#when youre forced to learn the pleasure your new alien body can give you

[lowlifesymptoms]

:)

[delirious-donna]

Don’t Touch [Gojo Satoru]

an: since I reworked Nanami’s version of this (link here), it seemed only fair to give Gojo’s drabble the same treatment.

pairings: Gojo Satoru x female reader

warnings: sensory deprivation kinda (touch), reader is a tease, Satoru gets a lil subby (barely), NSFW throughout

Masterlist

Gojo Satoru was a beautiful man, a good man but a silly one too. If you levelled a challenge at him, especially one he felt certain he would win, then nothing would prevent him from accepting your terms. Would the overconfident sorcerer ever learn?

The pout decorating his lips was simply irresistible—dewy and perfectly kiss-swollen. Celestial blue eyes blink slowly, long white lashes brushing against his blush-tinted cheeks as you dip your head to suck that delicious bottom lip into your mouth once more.

You were naked from the waist down, tormenting the man below you with each languid roll of your hips. The friction from his straining zipper was more than enough to send tiny jolts of pleasure humming throughout your body, fissures of bliss erupting along your nerve endings, but it wasn’t what he wanted, and you knew it.

Satoru’s muscles tense and bulge all at once, the tendons in his neck strain from his desire to free his hands, and he could—in a heartbeat—but his desire to please overrides it.

It’s jarring experience. An alien sensation to the powerful man that is accustomed to being entirely in control of literally everything in his life. However, the truth aches in his pounding chest, his heart beating to a new song orchestrated by the woman he loves above all others. Satoru has been turned into putty by your sheer force of will, and worst of all, he likes it…

“I can feel you wriggling ‘toru. You know the deal,” you purred whilst your fingers card into his lustrous snow-white hair, twisting until you can coil around the roots and tug. Smiling when the breath in his throat catches.

His hands were practically numb from where they lay beneath his backside and you weren’t lying, they did twitch for release. Despite his insistence that you could lock him up if you really wanted, this was an endurance test for him, and not for a pair of cheap handcuffs or the tensile strength of a tie never worn.

“You’re the one not playing fair, princess, just sink onto me already.”

You chuckled at the desperation lacing his plea, petulance invading his tone only to be schooled into some semblance of obedience at the last second. Favouring to ignore his plight, you pressed wet kisses to his bare chest, sucking love bites into his collarbone and neck only to watch them bloom into purple brilliance. Of course, you paid extra attention to his rosy nipples, flicking the perky peaks with the tip of your tongue before offering a firm tug with your teeth.

His pectorals twitched and his head flopped back against the couch, the most desperately pitiful whimpers tumbled from his mouth with little restraint. Satoru’s hips arched up to remind you of what you were currently perched upon. His poor aching cock pulsed against his thigh, desperate for attention, desperate for any kind of touch. Anything was better than being trapped behind his pants, and if he couldn’t touch you then he definitely couldn’t touch himself…

Why had he agreed to this? Why had he grinned like a deviant little devil thinking he could best you when touching you was the highlight of his day, his life? Satoru panted through the myriad of his jumbled thoughts, his mind turbulent and disarrayed. He was being denied the pleasure of caressing your curves, of detailing the little marks that made you unique. He’d willingly accepted the worst form of torture.

“Why don’t you say please, ‘toru? If you ask me nicely, I might take pity and fuck myself on your beautiful cock, hm?”

As if to emphasise the point, your weight rises from his lap only to drop back down with force. A strangled grunt pulled from the depths of his chest in response, cheeks no longer pink but ruddy and sweating.

“Princess, babycakes… love of my life, please—I need you—need you so damn bad!”

You were good on your word. Humming in appreciation of his anguished but heartfelt plea, your hands work deftly to unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper. The damp stain coating the front of his pants was impressive, slick coaxed from your core in hot need of relief that only Satoru could give to you.

The tip of his finally freed cock was an angry purple, slit oozing pearlescent precum and very sensitive to the lightest touch. He was long, curved and so deliciously thick near the base, you could practically feel the stretch before you even moved over him to notch at your fluttering pussy.

“This what you want, Satoru?”

He didn’t know if he’d be able to keep the no touching rule going when you sheathed yourself fully, moaning directly into his ear. The itch to grasp you by the hips and teach you a lesson for teasing him so mercilessly by forcing you up and down his dick until you were the whimpering mess was rampant.

In the end, he behaved—barely.

“Ah, fuck… I-I’ll get you… shit… back for this. See how you look with… oh my god… with my blindfold tied around your wrists!”

[teratalia]

Alien girlfriend x reader

I wrote a short little snippet from this writing prompt from the wonderful @monsterkinkmeme and I ended up expanding on it!! Listen, I created this alien girl just for this prompt but now I love her. I love her so much,, constructive criticism and comments are always welcome, it's my first time posting something like this :)

Quick notes: oblivious/dense fem reader, very lemony yet fluffy, let's call it lemon candy? lemon sweets? idk? (fingering, tribadism) 

“Aleya? Would you come here for a moment?” you call out. You don’t have to wait long before you’re joined by your new lab partner.

“Yes?” Her voice, quiet and airy, reaches you before she does. She leans over your shoulder, squinting curiously at your workstation with eyes lacking both sclera and pupil, just sky blue irises.

Her midnight blue skin fades to black at her humanoid forearms and shins, and she ties her long purple hair into her usual braid with two out of four arms. White star-like freckles are scattered over her face and body, and she looks like she creates new constellations with every move she makes.

“Sit, sit,“ you urge, patting her back. Aleya hesitates for just a second before doing so.

“Look at the reaction this plant gives.“ Very gently, you stroke it with a gloved hand. Its petals flutter and then open wide, revealing another layer of petals that are closed tight.

“Last time I tried that, the inner part still would not open.“

“Yes, but watch this.”

Carefully, you run your fingertips over certain petals in a sequence that took you hours to find. Finally the inner petals open to reveal a colorful ball-like fruit, not unlike a mandarin, which the flower leans over and gently deposits on the table before sealing up the layers of petals again.

Instead of watching the flower, you watch Aleya’s face. Unlike humans, her kind doesn’t tend to show much by way of facial expressions, but her eyes widen slightly and her braided hair undoes itself and winds around in a twist before untwisting and twisting all over again.

“That’s incredible. We’ve got to study this fruit immediately.“ Her tone also doesn’t change, but you swear you can hear an undercurrent of excitement. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Thanks! But before that, I want to take a break. Care to join me?” You stand, slowly stretching out limbs sore from disuse and discarding your gloves. She agrees, her stocky frame barely reaching your shoulder.

You beam and pat her on the back, running your thumb over the exposed skin there affectionately as you guide her away. She shudders and her braid comes undone just a bit.

“Are you okay?”

Aleya nods jerkily, braid slowly retying itself.

Humans call her people the Astra because of the characteristic star freckles and deep galaxy-colored skin. You're still learning about her, and she about you as well. You could never truly tell if she was happy to work with you or not, but you liked to think she was content. This assignment almost felt like being roommates with a cat that seemed aloof, but would come up to you quietly for affection. Aleya seemed to like the affection, or at least hadn't said anything to the contrary.

Seated in the kitchen, you gather some snacks and munch away. Aleya doesn't need to eat as much as you do, and only eats human food to be polite. For her snack, she grabs a pressurized bottle of hydrogen-helium mix and sips like it's water.

"I am quite pleased with your progress today," she says, almost making you drop your drink. She almost never speaks to you first, so you're eager to keep her talking.

"Did you expect that little fruit?" you reply excitedly. She actually smiles back at you, small lips curving up.

"I did not. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I didn't think Astra really smiled, is all."

"We do not. I have noticed that it is something you do when you are happy, and assumed it was a human thing. Is it not?"

You blink at her, then beam. "You would be right. I have to say, I'm flattered that you're noticing things about me."

Very briefly, her star freckles on her cheeks turn pale pink, but turn back to white so quickly that you're sure you imagined it.

Aleya tilts her head down, toying with her bottle. "Is it not customary to learn more about one's lab partner?" Her hair falls forward, hiding her face.

"Of course it is! I can't believe how nervous I was when I was assigned to work with you. It's been such a pleasure so far."

Her hair curls up to obscure her face even more, and the exposed freckles on her shoulders turn pink. It might be out of curiosity, to tease her, or a mix of both, but you make a guess out loud.

"You're very cute when you're embarrassed, Aleya. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The pink sparkle brightens and you giggle as her hair nearly cocoons her upper body, hiding her whole face and torso from sight. Only the faint glow of her pale blue eyes and pink freckles shine through.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. Come on, don't hide." Reaching out, you pat around where the top of her head should be. Her hair slowly unfurls and flows down her back as she glares up at you under your hand.

"Must you make such jokes?" she grumbles quietly.

"Sorry, Aleya. I do mean what I said though. You're very cute."

Sliding your hand down her hair, you pat her back like always. She lets out a shaky sigh, hair twisting around itself and eyes narrowing, hands squeezing around her bottle. Frowning, you snatch your hand away, making her look up at you again.

"I really am sorry," you repeat more slowly. "I don't like making you uncomfortable, and I also don't like the thought that you might be forcing yourself to adjust to human customs."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Humans tend to like physical touch, but I've been so inconsiderate because I don't know if you like it. I never realized how distressed you look when I touch you so casually. I'm sorry. I just, I need a bit."

Discarding the empty food wrappers, you hurry off to your room, dropping down onto the pillows and leaning against the headboard. You can't shake the feeling that you've been royally messing up with Aleya, and maybe she was just pretending to be comfortable around you. If casual touch is something that the Astra don't do, you might have been subjecting her to something really awful. It just made you want to apologize all over again.

A knock on the door draws you out of your spiraling thoughts. When you don't reply, the knock grows louder and more insistent.

"Come in."

Aleya slips into your room and shuts the door behind her. Her hair is curled up as if with giant rollers, huge curls rolling and unrolling in constant, restless motion. Her star freckles are an odd shade of orange that you haven't seen before.

With a sigh, you indicate the rest of the bed next to you. "You can sit, if you want."

Aleya perches on the bed, actively trying to suppress the movement of her hair with two hands. The other two are folded in her lap.

"I need to apologize to you," she starts, holding up one hand when you try to protest. "You deserve to know some truth about Astra. About me. Yes, the touching is quite foreign to me, but it didn't actually make me uncomfortable."

"You're sure?" All that shivering and hair unfurling seemed to indicate otherwise…

"Why do you think I have been wearing a lot of clothing that exposes my back and my shoulders?"

"You weren't just too warm in the lab?" Finally you let yourself relax. The star freckles are no longer that strange orange, but now they’re turning pink. "Is there something else you need to tell me?"

"Touching my back the way you do, it…" The curls in her hair seem to multiply as she struggles to speak.

You take a second to think, and feel your heart nearly stop. "…That wouldn't be an erogenous zone for you, would it?"

Aleya nods jerkily, refusing to make eye contact with you.

The first thing you feel is shock, followed closely by horror and embarrassment. "I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea."

She shakes her head, still silent.

Then you pause. The clothing she wears. Could that possibly be…and if so, did you want…?

You take a deep, shaky breath.

"Maybe I should let you in on a human secret," you say quietly, unable to believe the very words coming out of your mouth. "Different humans may have different erogenous zones, but a common one is the neck. Specifically, if one were to kiss and bite there…" Shrugging off your lab coat and letting it fall to the ground, you tilt your head away from her. Uncertainty practically radiates off Aleya, but slowly, slowly, she leans in and presses her lips to your neck. You sigh contentedly, tension easing out of your body and hers. The wild curls in her hair start to calm, flowing into waves down her back as she backs away and looks up at you.

Placing one hand on her shoulder, you lightly smooth your fingers over her skin, and she smiles a little, pink fading out of her freckles. Emboldened, you lift your other hand as well.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," you murmur, caressing her shoulders, fingers dancing over sparkling purple freckles.

Aleya moans, leaning into your touch. "I-I would like to do this with you. It just feels different…I am not used to such physical expressions. Astra intercourse is more like a melding of minds rather than bodies, and I'd like to share that with you…"

You're not entirely sure what she means, but you nod as she draws closer, wrapping both sets of arms around you, her hair flowing over your shoulders. Locks of her hair caress your cheeks, sliding down over your collarbone, sparking something new deep in your chest. You gasp, feeling this unusual yet intimate warmth within you, realizing that it's her pleasure you're feeling. The more your fingers move over her back, the more the warmth grows.

"Oh, wow," is all you can say.

Aleya giggles. "I think it's easier to tell when you feel good, like so, perhaps…" Leaning forward, she pulls up your shirt and slips her fingers under your bra, cupping your chest. Her fingertips tease over your nipples and you grin, simply tugging your clothing off to allow better access. She just stares at your chest for a moment, eyes wider than usual, before reaching to pinch your nipples. Biting your lip, you discard the rest of your clothes and wait for her to do the same.

Aleya doesn't have much by way of a chest, but her belly protrudes, matching her chubby arms and thick thighs. The star freckles are scattered at random across her skin, some looking like complete connected constellations, some just clusters of stars, all gorgeous.

Clothes finally off, you press her against the headboard and lean forward, giving her plenty of time to turn away. She reaches forward to meet you, kissing you awkwardly. You smile against her lips, guiding her, teaching her how to move her lips, how to avoid clinking teeth. She's a fast learner, because of course she is, and before long you're melting into her kiss, letting out little moans as she holds you close.

It's intoxicating, the way her pleasure matches yours. Her tongue tastes like raspberries, of all things.

Slowly, you slide your hand down her chest, down her belly rolls, finding your goal between her legs. Seems her anatomy is similar to yours, after all. She's already slick, her wetness sucking your fingers in. Aleya trembles, gripping your shoulders and crying out. Some of her freckles turn pink as she presses her lips together.

"God, you're cute." Running your other hand over her shoulders, you thrust your fingers in and out of her heat, craving that sound again. "Don't hold back, I want to hear you."

Looking like she wants to keep quiet, Aleya actually bites her lip. You lightly scratch down her back in retaliation, finally making her shout again. She arches her whole body into yours, moaning with abandon as you add a second and third finger inside her. Your thumb slides up to the top of her seam only to find that she doesn't have a clitoris, but it doesn't matter.

The glowing feelings in your chest swell, threatening to burst.

Aleya gazes up at you through fluttering eyelids, pushing her hips against your hand, silently begging you not to stop. And who are you to deny her release? To deny her anything, really?

You press your lips to her ear, the subtly tart scent of her hair wafting over you, curls tickling your cheek. "You're close, aren't you?" Voice low, almost raspy, just above a whisper yet still enticing. "I can feel it…come for me, Aleya…"

Clutching at you like a lifeline, arching her back, she cries out, walls fluttering around your fingers. Gently you pull your fingers out of that tight heat, whispering soothing words to her as she comes down from the high. The warmth cools down slightly, not fully extinguished just yet.

Aleya pants, staring at you in dazed awe. Impulsively, you bring your still soaking fingers to your lips, tasting raspberry alcohol.

"You taste amazing." You mean it, too.

Narrowing her eyes, she suddenly flips the two of you over, pulling you down to rest on your pillows and straddling your waist.

"Humans can also feel that, right? That release?"

"We call it an orgasm, and yes."

Aleya's grin is devilish. "Then we shall have one together."

One pair of hands plays over your breasts, fondling your nipples, while the other set slides down to pet your thighs. Moving back, she fits herself between your legs and spreads your thighs, looking down to your dripping pussy. You'd almost forgotten your own arousal in favor of hers, but now that all the attention was on it…you squirm, fidgeting under her intense gaze.

"So are you just gonna stare or do you want to try something?" you ask weakly.

"Even now, you still make demands," she giggles. Her upper pair of hands absentmindedly pinches your nipples while she thinks. "This is different. What's this…?"

Aleya circles your clit with one finger, and you moan at the slight friction. "Th-that's called a clitoris, um, it's very sensitive, so please…"

She gently strokes your clit with her thumb, slipping other fingers inside you in the same way you had done for her. Encouraging her with little gasps and moans, you hold onto her upper hands still resting on her breasts.

Silently she pulls her fingers out and other hands away, leaning back and readjusting her legs. Before you can ask what she's doing, she pushes your hips apart a little more, sliding one leg underneath yours and swinging the other leg over your hip.

You freeze, raising your eyebrows. "Huh? Where'd you learn how to do this?"

"Just thought it'd feel nice, and it looks like I'm right, yes?" She pushes her hips against yours, rolling them together. You can't help but agree with a breathy moan, head falling back against the pillows as you clutch fistfuls of the bedsheets.

Her body feels different from yet so similar to a human's, soft skin grinding against yours, long hair cascading down over you, strands caressing your sides. One thick strand pulls your leg up, hooking it over her shoulder.

"H-how are you so good at this?" you groan, closing your eyes, hearing a soft chuckle as the only response.

Aleya pauses her hip movements, making you open your eyes, pout already forming on your lips. She reaches for you with both sets of hands, pulling you up to sit in her lap with your legs still intertwined, lower set of hands sliding down to pull your hips forward to meet hers once more.

"God, yes." Wrapping your hands around her shoulders, you slowly drag your hands down her back, watching as her back arches and her lips part in a silent cry. You pull her closer, closer, hoping to taste raspberries again.

From the warmth growing in your chest and the way Aleya just pants into your open mouth, you can tell she's close, and so are you.

"Together," she gasps, pushing one hand down between your bodies. Her fingers press down on your clit, rubbing quick circles. Bucking your hips, you come undone with a shout, feeling the warmth in your chest swell and burst. All four of Aleya's hands dig into your back as she pulls you close, body trembling, hazy gaze meeting yours.

As one, your bodies crash down onto the bedsheets, limbs and hair tangling. Slowly Aleya shifts you both to face each other, a strand of her hair stroking your cheek as the feeling in your chest fades away, leaving comforting contentment in its wake.

After a moment of watching your face, she says, "Now I wish I had confessed sooner."

Eyebrows shooting up into your hairline, you laugh, whole body shaking. "To be fair, it's not just your fault," you say between giggles. "I should've noticed that something was off. It's fine now, right?"

She smiles softly, star freckles going back to regular white. "Yes, it is."

You bite your lip before adding, "I have to say, now I think there's a certain kind of drink I want to have more often. I should fix myself a raspberry cocktail sometime."

"What does that mean?" Aleya merely blinks at you, sky blue eyes narrowing as you start laughing all over again.

[cupcakemolotov]

At Horizon’s Edge

I promised @lalainajanes​ a space fic sometime before Covid, so that could have been two years ago or three, who can remember anymore, but here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

You can read the story at A03 here if you prefer!

Synopsis: Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Space; Alternate Universe - Fantasy; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Alien Cultural Differences; Alien Technology;  Werewolves; Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known; Werewolves in Space; Werewolf!Klaus; Alien!Caroline; Mostly Alien at Least; prison break; Accidental Rescue; Some Gore; Non-OTP Charachter Death; Found Family

                                                              -

Caroline slid into her pilot’s chair just as the comm on her dash beeped for an incoming transmission. Glancing over at the seat where her co-pilot sat, Enzo gave her a grim look. He didn’t agree to her plan, and she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t usually given to bouts of insanity but every day in space was a new one, and sometimes life tossed surprises at you with the impact of live grenades.  

“Five minutes until gate clearance.” He paused and then sighed, rolling his shoulders with a reluctant acceptance. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

So did she. 

Five minutes was an eternity when facing the guns of the space station they had just left. Named after a moon in the humanities home solar system, Titan was one of the few remaining stations that still traded directly with Earth. They were also very proud that they maintained the largest population of pure blooded humans outside of Earth Solar System, even by Earth’s exacting standards of what was considered human these days. 

If she’d cared to check, the history logs on her computer would tell her all about the wars that had nearly decimated Earth and its colonized planets, of the laws that banned anyone who carried alien DNA in their veins. The justifications of a world terrified by how humanity could change in the cold void of space and their desperate, grasping fingers trying to avoid change. 

Caroline had long since stopped caring about earth’s collective opinions, and the stars cared not all about the blood in your veins. Not all of humanity bent to fear, the far flung colonies that still lingered though they’d been abandoned by their home world. They’d learned to adapt, to change. There were wonders and nightmares in space that Earth could never imagine, but right then, none of that was particularly helpful. 

What she cared about was getting out of Titan’s airspace as quickly as possible without getting blown to bits. The conversation she needed to have to do that would require her to be very, very careful. Blowing out a breath, Caroline hit accept. 

Half a heart beat later, and the familiar eyes of Marshal Tyler Lockwood popped up on her screen. He looked worn, older than the last time she had seen him. The thick black of his hair had faded to more gray than the salt and pepper she remembered from their last conversation, and the creases in his forehead, and at the corner of his eyes, were a sign of his human heritage more than any of the military patches on his uniform. 

Old. He had started to look so old. 

“Marshall Lockwood,” Caroline said, tucking away any hint of sorrow. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He grimaced, his face telling her exactly what he thought of either of them enjoying this call. Her ex-lover did not enjoy being reminded of their past, which was why she made a point to do it every time he initiated one of these little catch ups. A little pettiness always did wonders for her mood. 

“Forbes. You’re leaving early.” He looked down, the line between his brows deepening as he clearly checked something on his tablet. “We had expected your stay at the station to last for another 48 standard hours.”

Brows arched, Caroline tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I wasn’t aware that you were watching my flight plans so closely.”

A hint of derision entered his eyes. “You are dangerous, Forbes. I keep an eye on dangerous things.”

She was dangerous. But not in ways that Tyler could plan against, and they both knew to target her specifically because of her heritage went against a dozen interstellar laws. His team could enforce station laws while she was standing on it, but here, on her ship, minutes from making a FTL jump, what she did should have been of no concern to them. This wasn’t space owned strictly by humanity, where it could control its population down to its DNA. 

Tyler was walking a fine line. 

Smiling, she settled a bit more comfortably in her chair. “Awe, that’s so sweet of you. Being so concerned about your people. I think you’d be more relieved to see the back of my ship than making demands to justify why I would leave when we both know you're not entitled to that information.”

His mouth tightened at her jab. “Generally that would be the case but you’re predictable. This breaks your usual pattern, and that gives me cause for suspicion.”

She shook her head in false exasperation, deliberately misunderstanding him. “My personal life is none of your business, remember? You made that choice decades ago, no reason to get sentimental now in your final few years.” 

Her words were below the belt, but Caroline had never really been able to help herself where he was concerned. Walking away from her, walking away from the future they had been building together had hurt. Decades had softened the sting, but some scars still bled. 

“I wasn’t asking for personal reasons.” His words were clipped, the edges sharp and cutting. 

She laughed. “Such lies you tell. But there isn’t anything dramatic about my departure, Tyler. Your collection of goods suck right now. Did someone piss off High Command again? Would it honestly kill you to announce it when you have trade-shortfalls? Manifests exist for a reason, you know, and it’s such a waste that your ‘council’ won’t let anyone bring in additional goods. Seriously, I could have avoided this whole trip and it would have saved me some time and docking fees.”

Absently, she wondered if his jaw got stuck like that these days, clenched down on a brutal line that left the muscle jumping tautly. “You expect me to believe you couldn’t find the correct dress size so you decided to ignore two days of your itinerary? I know you better than that.”

Caroline scoffed. “Actually, you don’t know me, Tyler. It’s been fifty years since we last had a conversation that didn’t involve us insulting each other. Your personal opinions about my love of a well organized schedule are outdated.” The lie slipped easily from her tongue, and next to her Enzo rolled his eyes. She flipped him off, just outside of view of the camera. “My irritation at the lack of proper boot sizes available aside, you’re not usually this pushy. You want to tell me what’s really going on? And why you need a scapegoat?”

Tyler’s jaw turned to stone for a long moment, and she forced herself to appear bored. Every moment he delayed was another that they crept closer to their escape. He finally unlocked it enough to speak, words harsh. “We had a prison break.”

She didn’t have to fake her surprise, brows arching high at both his reluctant admittance and what it meant. Very, very few people knew that Titan had an advanced and secure prison system. Dear Old Earth had always enjoyed making its problems vanish, and Titan was one such place they used to keep their hands clean. Those shipments from Earth of goods and perishables that made Titan so popular as a trade station came with a dirty secret: in the belly of those ships were people. Political prisoners, murders, terrorists, inconvenient witnesses who needed to disappear. Titan housed them all. Some would be kept in the cold bowls of the station and others shipped off to one of the max-prisons deep in the black of space. 

None of them ever escaped. 

That Titan was a prison was a dirty little secret and not one that could be allowed to get out. But such secrets, buried in metal and technology, were very hard to hide from her. Tyler knew it, though he was bound to keep some of her secrets. As she was bound to keep the worst of his.

“You don’t lose people.” Caroline said slowly. “What happened?”

“He had help.”

Brows coming together at the word ‘he’, she frowned. “And now you want me to find him.”

Tyler’s face could have been carved from stone. “No, Caroline. I want to know if he is aboard your ship.”

Next to her, Enzo lifted three fingers in her peripheral vision. They’d only been talking for two minutes and it’d felt like twenty. 

“Tyler, that’s far fetched even for you. I don’t let random people on my ship. You know that.” She didn’t have to fake the bitterness in the curve of her lips. “If I remember correctly, it was a major point of contention in our relationship.”

He ignored her, only the flex of his jawline a sign that her words had hit home. “I want to board your ship.”

“Absolutely not,” Caroline said flatly. “You have no grounds.”

“I have more than enough circumstantial evidence.” He spread his hand in her view, eyes like flint, shoulders square. “We scanned your ship, and while there are only three bodies registering onboard, we both know you have the capability to hide someone.”

She arched a brow. “That’s a violation of at least three treaties, Tyler.”

Marshall Lockwood didn't seem bothered by that. “I also know that there are at least two smuggling compartments on your ship that are capable of housing a human for short periods of time without them suffering from asphyxiation.”

There were now four compartments, and all of them could hide people for up to four hours without risking asphyxiation but were rarely used for such purposes. Smuggling people was difficult, goods were safer. Goods didn’t talk about ships and captains and give people ideas. But there were some things she couldn’t stomach, and sometimes a girl needed to be prepared. 

But Tyler didn’t know that. 

It’d been fifty years since she’d let him step foot on her ship. And unfortunately for him, she was hardly the only crew member with secrets. Smuggling had brought such interesting bedfellows into her life, and she’d violate more than three treaties to keep them safe. But her ex didn’t need to know that, and none of it would save her, if he opened fire at her. The point blank range of those canons would destroy her and everyone who would be caught in the crossfire. 

Right then, Tyler was a problem and she could show no weakness. 

“Circumstantial evidence of what exactly? “ she tilted her head and let scorn drip along her words. “That your super secret prison had an escapee and I am conveniently close to blame? That is ridiculous and we both know it.”

“You’re a Tech Witch.” 

Next to her, Enzo tensed at the derogatory term and Caroline let her smile sharpen. Her mother’s blood wasn’t an unknown quality of hers, but saying so here, on this channel with who knows how many witnesses, put him perilously close to breaking the agreements that bound them both. 

“Marshall, my ship cleared your security systems ten minutes ago. We accepted the standard cargo check before we left the docking bay, and I am told they were very thorough. Other than requiring a scapegoat in the form of my non-human DNA for whatever inside job you're attempting to cover up, you have nothing.” She nodded when he remained silent. “You have nothing.”

Something beeped, and he glanced down. When he glanced up, nothing had shifted on his face. “I could request you return to the docking bay or face the canons, Forbes.”

Caroline shook her head. It was a threat, but here, for now, she had the upper hand. This kind of PR move for humanity would be costly, but Tyler didn’t worry about those decisions. But him, personally, and the blackmail she had?

“We both know why you won’t.”

The skin near his eyes visibly tightened and she let her smile dimple. They both knew her death would act as a trigger for a number of unpleasant consequences for Tyler. What bound them was contractual, but she had never trusted him to do more than keep the letter of the law, and today had proved she’d been correct in her assessment. If he could have violated the spirit of their contract, he would have. Lucky for her, he couldn’t. Tyler’s secrets could destroy everything he had worked to build in his life, and even now, less than a decade or two from his death, he wouldn’t risk her ruining him. 

Her previous lover had always been a coward when it counted. Earth had its enemies, and so did Titan, and she knew almost all of them. Today might cost her, but it could cost him far more. 

Letting her knowledge show on her face, she showed her teeth. “Do you even want to tell me who it is that you lost that has you so desperate?” 

There was a long, long silence as he stared at her and she just waited. Time was on her side now, the clock burning down. In the back of her head, she counted down. 

Sixty seconds. Fifty-five. So close. 

The gleam behind Tyler’s eyes turned calculating, and he dropped the name as if it was supposed to mean something, as if it was supposed to bring the weight of her guilt crashing down on her shoulders. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

Caroline just stared at him in surprise; she hadn’t expected him to tell her. The ghosts between her and Tyler faded a little more every year. Humanity might have extended their lifespans as far as they could be stretched, but they would never match those whose DNA held the remnants of long lived, non-human races. Soon Tyler would be one of the few living memories left from the single year of her life she had spent planetside. 

Klaus Mikaelson was another. 

Gathering her thoughts, Caroline shook her head, forcing herself to focus. “If he is alive, he should be nearing a century on a planet with less medical knowledge than your Station. He should be either senile or dead.” She pushed back a loose strand of hair that slid into her face, the pale gold as much as her mother’s blood as her fathers. “Out of all of us, I’m the only one cursed, remember?”

Next to her, Enzo made a grunting noise of disagreement, his disapproval clear. She waved a hand at him. Her hidden clenched fist relaxed as Enzo bared his teeth but started the sequence to activate the first of what was going to be several jumps. Right then, she didn’t care how much he hated Tyler. They’d be harder to trace once they arrived at the major traffic lanes, but first they had to make it. She didn’t dare take her eyes away from her screen. 

Tyler sighed, the sound deep and an echo that caught in her chest. His dark eyes creased, and for the first time the Tyler she’d once known peaked at her from behind the Marshall. “You’ve never been gifted at lying, Caroline.”

She laughed at him, the sound bitter. “No, Tyler. You’ve just never believed me when I spoke truly. I was never your enemy.”

His face told her that he didn't believe her. He never had. “I won’t forget this, Caroline. When we prove that you helped, and we will prove it, not even your precious interstellar laws will be able to protect you.”

The call ended just as their clearance to enter the gate came through. Caroline cut the open line, and immediately started backtracking through her systems to make sure that Tyler hadn’t tried to leave her a present. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Earth, and it’s subjects, tended to see laws as flexible when it suited them. 

The initial scrub didn’t take long, she’d never skimped on security and her ship did not endure itself to strangers programs, and the surface diagnosis came back clean. Jaw set, she triggered the deeper scrub that would erase the identifiers that they had used to dock at Titan. 

She’d known she’d have to burn the remaining dregs of that life soon, but hadn’t expected it today. Better to make a clean cut, erase her existence here in Pure Human Space now than end up in the darkness of its prison, driven mad by the hum of machines she could hear but not touch. 

“Ten seconds until FTL.”

Switching to her main screen, Caroline pulled up the screens to monitor their progress. Closing her eyes as the universe started to blur with the faster than light speed jump, she inhaled slowly and didn’t breathe again until the sound of space tearing around them drowned out the anxious rush of her heartbeat. 

-

It took twenty minutes after they passed through the gate to clear enough space to make the first jump. They didn’t quite dare engage their cloaking device until they left the jump points. It took another precious half hour before they finally winked out of existence as far as radars were concerned. But the muscles along her spine didn't relax until Enzo finally gave her a nod.

“We’re clear. No one followed us, which means they didn’t have enough time to scramble a ship. We’ve got a sixty minute window before this airspace becomes too hot for us.”

Caroline laughed. “Good thing we won’t be here that long. Go ahead and start planning our next jump.”

Enzo tipped his head. “Are we sticking to our plan then?”

“For now. I don’t want to risk picking up a tail, and they won’t be able to follow us from here. As long as we stay out of Federation space, we should be okay for the short term.”

For now. If they were going to stay that way was entirely dependent on what exactly she had gotten them into. Grimacing a little, she hit the comm button. “Bonnie? Everything alright down there?”

There was a pause and then the droll voice of her closest friend came back over the mic. “So far everything is holding up. I did a fast scan once we cleared the gate, and I didn’t find any extra tech that might have been dropped in the ship.”

“Thanks, but we’re clean.” She pressed her hand against the panel, listening to the hum of engines and the computers that were as familiar to her as the back of her hands. The curious hum of its voice. “I’ll be down shortly to deal with our pickup.”

“Better you than me.”

Enzo leaned back, watching her with dark eyes as he waited for her to finish her conversation. “You sure this is what you want?”

Caroline snorted and unbuckled herself. “I think it's a little late for second guessing, don’t you?”

A shrug. “We could space him.”

She laughed, this one far more genuine. “If he threatens you or Bonnie, I promise, he’ll find himself ejected. But until then…”

Enzo crossed his arms, gaze dark. “You think he might know something about your mom.”

Eyes sliding shut, Caroline sighed. She wished she could have given him that as the reason, but it hadn’t been. Not then. Now… “I don’t know if anyone knows what happened to my mom.”

“Be careful, Gorgeous.” Enzo’s mouth tightened at the corners. “The past can make you bleed.”

She knew that far better than anyone should, but arguing with Enzo about unnecessary reminders wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Yeah.”

Tipping back into his chair, Enzo studied her. “I’ve still got a friend or two on that station. I could arrange it so Lockwood stops being such a problem.”

She shot him a look and he shrugged unrepentant. “He has no teeth.”

“Gorgeous, we both know that’s hardly the truth. He’s going to do his damndest to make your life difficult. Even if he sticks to your bargain until he dies, you’ve got nothing to protect you after his death.”

Caroline shook her head. “Legacy means everything to Tyler. I don’t think he’ll so easily let me ruin it.”

Enzo snorted but turned back to his computer. “I’ll make the next jump.”

Understanding it for the grumpy acceptance but not an approval that it was, Caroline lifted hand to acknowledge she heard him, and left the bridge. The door closed behind her, leaving her in the quiet corridors, only the sounds of her boots loud over the hum of the ship as she walked. 

She wished she could explain her impulsive reaction to Enzo, wished she could find the words that gave her actions any kind of logic. Particularly since she couldn’t explain to herself. 

Walking around the corner, she found Bonnie waiting on her. There was grease smeared on one cheek and her mouth was pulled into a frown. Sighing, Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Are you going to yell too?”

Bonnie seemed to consider that, the data pad she held tapping against her thigh before she sighed. “I’d like to. But would it do any good?”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She held out the data pad with a sigh. “I still have a bottle of that shit you call liquor in my room. When this is over, you’re going to owe me an explanation.”

Caroline’s fingers curled around the peace offering. “It’s a pretty long story.”

“You noticed I said an entire bottle?”

There wasn’t much she could say to that. “Deal.”

Bonnie nodded and tipped her head towards their small medbay. “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and pressed her palm to the door, unlocking it so she could step inside. He was waiting for her, the familiarity of him the same punch to her system as it had been before. He’d lost the horrible prison uniform, Bonnie must have felt far more charitable than she’d wanted Caroline to know. But then, her friend had spent her own time in the prison uniforms herself and still avoided the color orange. 

But that meant he was now shirtless, his bandaged ribs on display, his expression guarded. 

Caroline gave herself a moment to absorb that change in perspective, to take him in. The tumble of curls still touched the tops of his ears, but he’d cleaned up his beard so that only a short stubble remained, leaving behind a man’s face, thin from his time beneath Titan but hardly weak. His eyes were gold touched blue, and awareness brushed down her spine. The decades since she had last seen him were stacked behind his eyes, visible in the way he had grown into his skin.

But the impact of him, the jolting rush of recognition from earlier still lingered beneath her skin. The sudden awareness of who he was and the bone deep hello she couldn’t explain. Which made no sense, had made no sense when she was hauling his ass through Titan. If the boy who had once been kind to her was buried beneath lean muscle and a hardness she recognized from her own mirror, she didn’t see him. This man, with his steady gaze and roughened features was a stranger.

She didn’t know what to think of the way he watched her. He brought so many complications with him. Tipping her head, she arched a brow with more casualness than she felt. 

“Werewolf, huh?” Caroline kept her voice even, and the edge of his mouth curled. “I’d have remembered that if you’d mentioned that little detail before.”

He took his time responding, gaze dragging down her body in a thorough perusal that left her skin tingling as if he’d touched her. “Caroline Forbes. I must say, you were not who I was expecting.”

She snorted. “Yeah, well, me either. I wasn’t there to rescue you.”

His gaze narrowed. “Then why were you there?”

Caroline kept her voice bland, shifting her weight to tap one boot against the floor. “New boots.”

And Klaus Mikaelson blinked at her as if the words that were coming out of her mouth were in a dialect he had never heard before. She felt a perverse amount of satisfaction from that. The Klaus she had known had been a few years older and nearly unflappable, outside of the mercurial moodiness of his temperament.

“New boots.”

“Yup. And lucky for you that I decided I needed them. There are reasons that Titan has never lost a prisoner before.” She tossed the data pad in front of him. “I don’t know who or what you were expecting when you made it onto the surface level, but if I hadn’t found you and decided to help, you’d have been collared and sent right back into the depths of the station.”

Caroline wasn’t certain she’d ever shake the shock of it: turning the corner, and finding Klaus standing there. Klaus, who she had thought of only in the safety in the dark of space, when she allowed herself to remember that tumultuous year she’d spent with her feet on solid earth. She had hoped for him to have married, to have had a batch of sarcastic moody children, to have grown old having survived the machinations of his mother. 

Another quiet piece of her past disappearing before she’d gained even so much as a hint of a wrinkle. 

But he hadn’t, and now she didn’t know what to think. 

When she’d seen him, his beard had been too long, the shackles from his cell had still been curved around the bones of his wrists. He’d been slightly hunched, the blood on his uniform not just from whoever had gotten between him and his escape, and the way he stood said something had hurt but he was on his feet. 

Somehow, she hadn’t gotten any of that blood on her. Right then, she was regretting that a little. A single touch of his skin against her own, and she’d have managed to avoid some of this conversation as she’d been given the answers. For the first time, she cursed the prison uniform for more than its obnoxious color and terrible material.

And now here she was , struggling to understand the certainty she hadn't felt in decades when she’d seen him. Her mother’s blood never forgot an enemy, but it also never forgot a friend, and once, a very, very long time ago, she’d thought of him as such. The punch of that knowledge had been staggering as they’d stared at each other, too much between them, and she’d heard the alarms blaring from beneath the soles of her feet. 

She hadn’t been able to turn, to leave him like she should have. Swearing at him, at herself, she’d moved forward and slid her arm beneath his and gritted out an order to stay quiet and to follow her. 

And he had. Now here they were. On her ship, trying to outrun the long reach of Titan. His gaze finally left her face and lowered to the datapad before returning to hers in a silent question.

“Bonnie is med-trained,” Caroline lied easily. “She did a data scan before I came in when she was tapping up your ribs. I know earth uses the prisoners below Titan for experimentation, but did you ever hear them mention what they were putting into your blood?”

“Bonnie,” Klaus said softly. “Is a witch.”

She didn’t lower her eyes. Esther had been a witch. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Not even a flicker of a lash. “No.”

“Because if it is,” Caroline said, “I will toss you into the airlock myself. Werewolves can last for a few minutes in the black, you know. Not long enough to live, but long enough to fight for it.”

The yellow in his gaze spread in a wash of power. “Threats already?”

“Duh,” she replied. “This is my ship, my crew. I might have saved you, but you try to harm them, and you’re going to see what it’s like trying to breathe in a vacuum.”

Klaus laughed, low and rich, and it ran across her senses like a touch. “Your threats have gotten better, love. I approve.”

Caroline snorted. “I’m touched. Really.”

He didn’t move towards her, but the sudden intensity to the way he watched her, the wolf clear in his gaze, left her very aware of the careful distance and one table between them. “I think you’ll find that even here, on this ship you’ve claimed and marked as your own, that I am not so easy to destroy.”

She didn’t doubt he believed that, that he was capable of horrible things, even injured, but she refused to give him an inch. Not here, not now. Not yet. Not when her ship would tear itself apart to protect its heart. “So says the werewolf that had to be rescued from humans.”

Klaus’ gaze narrowed, a flicker of deep seated rage there and gone again. “The result of an unfortunate betrayal, one I plan to deal with as soon as I am off this ship.”

There was something dangerous there, something terrible that kept her from asking the questions that lingered on her tongue. “Are you going to be a danger to my crew, Klaus?”

His head angled to the side, and there was nothing soft about his expression. “Will you believe my answer?”

“You’ve never lied to me before,” Caroline said slowly, feeling her way through the strange sense of knowing she hadn’t been able to shake. The buzzing of her mother’s blood. She wanted to believe him. “I don’t have a reason to think you’d start now, though you were apparently keeping some pretty big secrets.”

Klaus went motionless in front of her, the flex of his jaw unexpected as he stared at her. The wolf slowly faded from his eyes as he clearly weighed her words. “I intend no harm to your people, Caroline. Witches or no. But I cannot say the same for my enemies.”

She shoved her fingers through her bangs. “And just who are they?”

“Why did you rescue me, Caroline?”

She blinked. “Does that matter?”

A hint of a dimple curved along his cheek, and Klaus crossed his arms, leaning against the table. She tried very hard to ignore the shift and flex of muscle, the bare skin still on display. The fascinating movement of his tattoo. “Very much, I’m afraid.”

She mirrored his stance, arms crossing across her chest. “And why is that, exactly?”

“Caroline.”

“Klaus.”

“I’ve answered a number of your questions,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone that made her teeth clench. “It's only fair that you do the same, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t the one rescued.”

His teeth gleamed in the lighting. “A man has reasons to be concerned when a near stranger offers him his freedom. Particularly in such… serendipitous circumstances, don’t you think? The black is full of terrible things. Slavers. Blood Witches. Those influential human scientists who wish to unlock the immortality of magic without the cost. We knew each other a long time ago, love.”

Her eye roll was automatic. “Oh yes, I’ve risked my reputation and my neck to drag you off to a backwater moon so you can become someone’s wolf bitch. How did you guess?”

The hint of amusement that had tugged at his lips disappeared, and something hard entered his eyes. “The truth, if you please.”

It was a velvet threat said in a voice lined in steel. She hadn’t liked that tone from him when she’d been seventeen, and she liked it even less now, knowing of the wolf that lived under his skin. She forcibly reminded herself that she’d have questions if he’s just up and rescued her too. Locking him in the med bag until he was reminded of his manners wasn’t a smart decision. Yet, at least. 

She lifted her chin and held that inhuman gaze, unblinking. “You were something of a friend, once. I hadn’t forgotten that and I have no love for cages. Though I suppose I should worry why humanity decided to bury you in their favorite graveyard. There are some things even I won’t look past. Are we going to be enemies, Klaus?”

Truth and lies, they tangled together and she wondered if he saw them. None of that had been in her mind when she’d seen him, none of that had mattered. Her reaction had been inexplicable and confusing, and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss. Not now, preferably never. 

“You don’t want me as your enemy, love.”

Caroline scoffed. “I’m not sure I want you as my friend. The last werewolf I made an acquaintance of was a real dick, and this conversation isn’t shaping up to prove you’re much different.”

“And would that werewolf happen to be the esteemed Marshall Lockwood?” His words were casual, as if that information actually existed outside her head. As if he knew. But Klaus had known Tyler once, and that made her wonder. 

“Marshall Lockwood is not up for discussion .”

Klaus brow arched with intrigue. “So the rumors are true.”

“That would depend on the rumors.” It was a strain, to hold that slightly bored expression. To keep her pulse steady. 

“Lockwood should have been promoted past Marshall decades ago.” Klaus dragged his gaze down her face, and for a heartbeat she imagined those eyes lingered on her lips. “The why’s have always generated a great deal of speculation. He passes as human, you see. He is also loyal even when that loyalty is detrimental. The rumors of blackmail, of alien involvement have been rampant for years.”

She’d made a point not to follow those rumors, and it was a struggle not to wince. No wonder Tyler hated her. But she remembered the way he’d spat Tech Witch, the way he’d made it clear to anyone around him, and that wince turned to anger. He’d made his choices. 

“You’re pretty knowledgeable for a man who was locked away in the depths of Titan.” Caroline said slowly. “Why exactly did they toss you into their comfy retirement home? Werewolves take resources to hold.”

His smile was slow and sharp. “Humanity considers me a threat.”

“That hardly makes you special.” She waved a hand towards the walls of her ship. “Earth considers everyone not fully human a threat. It’s a long, extensive list.”

“True. Let’s say then, that I have made an effort to be noticed.” His eyes glittered. “They are well aware of who I am.”

“How wonderful for you. How?”

Klaus studied her for a long moment. “When you said you couldn’t return, you meant it, didn’t you?”

Her breath caught in her throat at those softly voiced words, the memories they dragged violently to the surface. The way she could almost smell the smoke, feel the splash of her mother’s blood against her face. 

“I never lied to you.” Caroline said. “Even then.”

Especially then. 

Not when she had a choice.

He gave a nod, the wolf back in his eyes, as if he had come to some internal decision. “Esther didn’t survive you leaving the planet.”

She blinked, frowned. “Esther was amassing a cult following, how did anyone get through that? And how does this answer my question?”

A sharp slash of a smile. “I killed her.”

Caroline stared at him. Esther had been his mother. “I don’t understand.”

He lowered his arms, shifting his weight carefully. “My mother… Esther was a monster. And so was Mikael.”

“They did try to sacrifice my mom, so no arguments there.” She let the bite of her nails into her palm ground her. “But they were also powerful, which is why we ran.”

And why she’d been willing to barter with Tyler’s mother to get him off that world, the one family with limited permission to leave the planet without the terrible protocols. Not that it’s done her any good, in the long run. Tyler had chosen to bury what he was and to become something he wasn’t. And she...

She’d woken to the cold berth of her ship alone, the only clue the blood that had stained the walls, the floors, of what had been her mother’s room. That ship had been destroyed in the heart of a sun, the blood too potent and the horror of it too binding. The ship sang too mournful song, a song of rage and sadness even as she watched it disappear in an explosion that erased it down to the last molecule.

“Yes,” Klaus agreed. “But by rescuing Liz, you allowed the rest of us to find our freedom.” A lowering of his lashes, charm in every word. “I suppose that means you’ve saved me twice.”

For a long moment their gaze held, and the room felt several degrees too warm. It had been Klaus’ hands who had caught her when she had staggered at the weight of her mother. Klaus who had told her to go, as the screams around them had grown in fever pitch as the fires Kol had set to burn began to consume houses. 

Clearing her throat, Caroline shook her head. “If you killed Ester that debt is even. But what does any of this have to do with you escaping that planet and pissing off enough people you got tossed into Titan? Stop avoiding my questions.”

Another flash of teeth, a deliberate god behind his eyes. “And where have you been all these years, Caroline?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Hand sliding to her hip, Caroline glared. “What do you mean? Space is a big place.”

“You’re not an easy woman to find,” Klaus said casually. “Even when one knows what to look for.”

Unexpectedly, her heart jolted into her throat. “You shouldn’t have been looking for me at all.”

The dip of the crease of his cheeks, the curve of his smile were all predatory. “No?”

“My mother paid her debts,” Caroline said bitterly, chin lifting. “I owe you nothing.”

“No,” he repeated, voice softening. “You do not. I believe if anything, if what you say is true, I owe you.”

Her gaze narrowed, but his eyes didn’t waver from hers. Motioning towards the pad on the table in front of him, she firmed her words. She was done discussing her mom. “I bet Titan’s food sucked. I’ll find you an energy bar while you read that report.”

She turned her back to him, and it itched along her spine. But even a werewolf couldn’t get a clean jump on her in her own ship and to flinch now would be to lose ground. Digging through the supplies they kept for emergencies, she found a shirt that would probably fit with something like regret. Another drawer for one of Bonnie’s stashed meal replacements, and she walked over and set them both in front of him. 

For a moment, she imagined she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, even with the table between them. She shook the thought off, ignoring the way she could almost pick out the scent of his skin beneath the sterility of the prison smell. Klaus, for his part, had done as she said and was looking at the data pad, the full line of his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“You’re sure this is accurate?”

“Bonnie doesn’t make mistakes,” Caroline said. “Not about this. And neither do I.”

“Why show this to me?”

She tipped her head and studied him. Considered the words she wanted to say. “Titan is full of the echoes of old ghosts. The kind humans cannot see, even in the black. The kind that skitter along nerves, that flicker with the hum of an engine, that race across a tablet screen in the shape of quick anomalies and distortions. What that station swallows, it keeps.”

There was no judgement in Klaus’ eyes at her reminder of her alien blood, the gifts that left her far more integrated into technology that should be possible. Tech Witch. If only it was so simple. 

“So you’ve said.”

“So I did.”

Those brilliant eyes narrowed. “Tell me, love. Your people avoid human space. Yet, here you are. Why?”

Her lips twisted. What few of them were left. “We avoid humanity for good reason. We… the best way to put it is we leave behind our own echoes, and too many… well, this ship would swallow its enemies too. Titan would never allow that sort of integration, but they fear it. What it could become.”

“Titan has no consciousness, no knowing.” Klaus said, as if he’d been prepared for what she would admit. “It’s halls are lined with human nightmares, not the kind your people give shape to.”

“Humanity has never been so simple.” Caroline returned. “The remnants of my people… they litter empty colonies like broken alters. What humanity tries to do with those bits and pieces could never be allowed on earth, could never be allowed to be seen as anything but human invention.”

“Nanotechnology is not new.” He pointed out, referencing the report she’d given him to read, the details Bonnie had included for him. So he could understand. “Humanity has been experimenting with improving vaccinations and healing for more generations than have passed since your people’s first contact. Even in the black, the science of it has trickled out into space. Improved healing, improved health, longer life spans as organs stop failing quite so quickly.”

“What we suspect that they have injected you with is not so simple.” She gave him a brief smile, barely more than the bitter curve of her lips. “Over the last twenty years, we’ve discovered that the scientists on Titan have been less than satisfied with the dozens of prisoners that earth sends them each year as experiments. They’ve turned their eyes towards slavers, towards their own people when it suits them. I can’t imagine how delighted they’d have been, to have found themselves in the position of having a werewolf in their grip. Whatever they injected you with, it’s going to be dangerous.”

Klaus ran his finger thoughtfully down the screen of the pad. “Experiments with what technology survived the fall of your people seems like a bit of an extreme jump in logic. Earth would never sanction such things as the fallout should it be proven would be terrible.”

She’d once thought the same. That had changed. Caroline held out her palm, nudged her chin towards the pad. “There is an easy way to tell. If Bonnie was right. If we’re wrong.”

A simple touch, and she would know just what part her people’s cast off ruins were being used in the torture of those Titan claimed as its own. To see what they had shoved in his veins, this man-made monster who might now carry worse sins in his blood than he knew.

In front of her, the line of his throat went taut, the cords of his throat in sudden, sharp relief. What blue had returned to his eyes disappeared under a wash of gold so potent, she felt it sizzle across her nerves. 

“Ah,” he murmured, voice dipping low and deep. “That might be more complicated than you know.”

She frowned. “Why? If they managed to inject you with their bastardized nanonites, touching you will let me confirm. Removing them is the complicated part.”

And would require help. Not something she thought the wolf would enjoy. Not when he was injured. 

“Tell me, Caroline, do you know why Earth, why the Federation, put such a strict quarantine on my home world?”

The sudden switch of topics sent warning fingers dragging down her spine. “You mean other than it being infested with witches and apparently the occasional werewolf, the two things they like to pretend don’t exist?” She wrinkled her nose. “I always assumed it was one hell of a prison planet.”

There were a few of those, scattered around the galaxies. Klaus’ homeworld had been unique in that it was beautiful, and it inhabited more than just a prison carved into an otherwise uninhabitable chunk of rock. But it was also full of horrors, and not all of them had been man made. 

He laughed softly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “You’re not entirely wrong. But what they wished to trap there is more complicated than blood and magic.”

“Very few things are more complicated than either of those,” Caroline said carefully. “And all of them are alien in nature.”

The flicker of approval on his face shouldn’t have mattered. “Earth has mostly forsaken its children spread among the stars, but not all survivors consider themselves lost. My mother certainly didn’t.”

“Your mother was a fanatic.”

A tip of his head in casual agreement. “My grandmother called it an artifact, my mother thought it was a map. My father knew it for the danger it was, and it cost him his life.” He gave a careful shrug of his shoulder. “The werewolf homeworlds have long since been thought to be lost, though most people believe their Armadas must disappear to somewhere. Esther sought to change that.”

“The werewolf homeworlds?” Caroline repeated incredulously. “No one even knows if they truly exist, or if they do, how they came to be.”

A thoughtful glance from beneath his lashes. “So you do know the stories.”

“Yes, because they are stories.” She crossed her arms with a scoff. “It’s everyone’s favorite boogeyman bedtime tale. Particularly once their ships started to have more frequent sightings.”

“Enlighten me.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Of what, rumor? Urban legend? Seriously, Klaus. What could you possibly have not heard? The stories that blame witches for your existence, the gift that the black pulled from your blood? The ones that blame earth's scientists who went deep into the heart of a solar system that no longer has a name. Or my personal favorite, the ones that blame my mother’s people, though how they came to those conclusions I don’t know. They left behind experimenting on flesh and blood eons before they were destroyed. There is no fact behind any hint of a rumor that currently exists.”

“The werewolf gene is an interesting one,” Klaus murmured. “It breeds true but not always in strength. Ansel thought it had to do with our longevity, that when born on planets where it was peaceful, we didn’t need that strength.”

“Ansel?”

“My father.”

“Your…” staring at him, she struggled to find a coherent thought. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mikael couldn’t have been Klaus’ father. But perhaps it should have. Esther had been a witch, as were her children. All except one. 

“What are you saying?”

“Esther’s ambition knew no bounds,” Klaus said. “She planned to use your mother’s blood to find the werewolf homeworld, to activate the map she suspected your people had left behind. And then she hoped to conquer it. But to conquer, she needed a weapon, one she could bind with the familial bond.” Another careful movement as he rolled his shoulder. “Ansel wanted to know if having a son under the horrors of our moon would grant strength back into his line. For a while, they’re politics aligned. It was short lived, as was with most things my mother touched.”

Caroline swallowed hard at the implications of his words. That he was that weapon. That her mom was a key to finishing worlds long lost. “That’s insane.”

“Perhaps. My mother was certainly many things, and sane was not one of them. But my father.” A slow tilt of his lips, the blunt edge of his teeth barely visible. “My father was not wrong. Though he was not entirely right, based on Tyler’s pathetic existence.”

“This,” Caroline said slowly, straightening her shoulders. “Is not your home world.”

The I am not your prey, hung between them. 

His smile widened. “Esther did not expect you or your strength to defend your mother.” His wolf glimmered in jagged shards behind his eyes. “That seems to be a weakness in my family, as twice now, you have surprised me, when I know better. I’m very aware of where I stand, love.”

Strength that had eventually failed her. That had left her with nothing but the smeared remains of her family. “Why tell me this? Why bring up any of this?”

“I looked for you,” Klaus said, voice dipping into a caress that was almost a touch. “All these long years that I’ve spent among the stars. Hunted for a mention of your ship, chased every glance of gold from the corner of my gaze. And yet, when I looked for you naught, when my only thought was survival, there you were.”

Caroline’s stomach flipped at his words and she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I didn’t want to be found.” 

“So I’ve gathered.” The dryness in his tone almost wrangled a smile from her. “But finding you has never been about just want, Caroline, but need.”

She bared her teeth. “So I am just an alien to you.”

Klaus moved, a slow deliberate shift of his body to remove the barrier of the table between them. Caroline had to sink her heels into the floor to hold her position, and while he didn’t touch her, he was close enough that when he dipped his head, his breath brushed along her chin. 

“If only it was that simple.” He tipped his head, the movement strangely wolffish. “If only. You know what I am.”

Her fingernails dug into her palm as she wondered when she’d started to lose control of this conversation. “Yup. Werewolf, asshole, planet born. Big deal.”

An exhaled noise of amusement. “Alpha.”

She blinked. Blinked again. “Alpha of what? A backwater planet that eats its people regularly as it’s own wonderful world of sacrifice? Sounds awesome. Big congrats.”

A dimple creased his cheek. “You wanted to know who my enemies are, love? They are many, and varied. Earth, certainly. A number of werewolf tribes. The families of those whose son’s I left broken in my path to ruling. My inheritance from my father came with a heavy price, but it did not come without its gifts. Thankfully, the Armada did eventually see my value.”

“Armada,” she rasped. Swallowing, she tried again. “The werewolf armada. You are seriously trying to tell me you escaped your homeworld, and… what. You challenged your way right to the top of leadership? In the werewolf armada. The ships that are nearly impossible to find, that are made up of mercenary bands and other wonderful, loving people and they just let you stroll in and start killing people?”

“Yes.”

He sounded so unbelievably satisfied. “Well, clearly that didn’t stick since you ended up in the bowels of Titan.”

“Careful,” he murmured.

“Or what?” She wiggled her fingers, careful to not touch him. “You’re still on my ship, presumed alpha or not, and I can still space you. I probably should.”

An arch of his brow, though nothing about his body said he was worried about her threat. “Oh?”

Caroline gave him an annoyed look. “Have you not listened to a single thing I’ve said? Nanobites, Klaus. My people’s technology that’s been fucked about by humans into who knows what, swimming around in your bloodstream. Do you know what else they put in those things? Trackers.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah.” She lifted her chin. “Which brings us full circle to the original problem. I need to see exactly what they injected into you, and then Enzo and I might have to remove them, which is going to be a bitch for everyone. Otherwise dumping you on a planet to apparently contact your armada to come pick you up will mean absolutely shit. You’ll be cooling your heels on Titan in a matter of hours.”

“Enzo.” His voice turned cool, the line of his shoulders stiffening. “Who is Enzo?”

“My co-pilot,” Caroline said. “And someone I trust.”

Klaus moved, a quick shift of his weight that put his nose and mouth excruciatingly close to the skin beneath her ear. His breath was hot and damp, and she froze as he breathed deeply. “You don’t smell of him. So not lovers. Good.”

Caroline spluttered and took two steps back, cheeks hot. “That is none of your damn business.”

“I think you’ll find that is not entirely the case the moment you put your hands on me, Caroline.” His eyes met hers, and there was nothing human in the expression behind them. “You marked me decades ago.”

She straightened her spine, denial on her tongue, even as beneath her feet, her ship hummed with attention. “I did no such thing.”

His laugh echoed harshly between them and he prowled towards her, the line of his jaw set. “No? I disagree. So does my wolf. You’ve been in my blood so long, what does a mere echo of your people compare? Even the other wolves, the ones who sought my favor, who wished for my benevolence never quite dared ask for more than what I offered. They too, saw the claim you’d etched into me.”

“That’s impossible.”

An amused, indulgent glance that spoke of too many things that left her so very aware of how close he was standing to her. “Is it? You know the stories of your people as well as I do. My kind have a similar belief, though it is rare away from our worlds. Of claiming, of mating.”

Her fingertips tingled with the need to feel that uncompromising edge of his jaw and she swallowed. Tried not to think of the way her blood reacted to him, the impulsive need to help him. Mate. Impossible. “Klaus…”

His head lowered, lips lingering so close to her own. “Why did you save me?”

Caroline gave a tiny shake of her head, terrified that she’d give into the need to lean just a little forward. “I told you.”

“New boots,” Klaus murmured. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He straightened, and smiled, dimples on full display, cutting deep. “There is an easy way to tell. If I am right. If I am wrong.”

Her throat ran dry. 

Klaus spread his arms slowly, moving to lean back against the table. “Do your worst. Go ahead, tell me what runs beneath my skin. All of it. But, Caroline.”

She took in a deep breath, lifting her chin to meet those moon glow eyes, that daunting smile. 

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you, love.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Exotic Lifeforms.”

Had some fun writing this one. Give you more of that alien perspective everyone likes so much, so I hope you like it 

“It has been a pleasure doing work with you as always.”

“Your end of the deal?”

“Already upheld…. Where do you even find these creatures. I can’t say we have ever seen anything like it.”

“We found these ones on a stroke of luck. We do not think they are native to the panet, though where they came from is still very much a mystery.”

“Then what a stroke of luck for us indeed, I can’t imagine having your job.”

“You should try sometime, the exotic lifeforms business is very lucrative. If it hadn’t been you, I would have sold it to a wealthy owner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because, you paid more.” 

The Vitan turned ponderously on its five trunk-like legs and left through the open wall which spilled a beam of light through the room before going dark once more. 

The doors all around the circular room closed, the collector turned back to their work. The room itself was large and dark, shaped in that of a large black circle, the floors rising up with a steady curve into the ceiling than above. They stood at the center of this circle, and when commanded great projections of blue light appeared around the circle each disclosing a different image from a different one of the pens.

They turned their attention to the newest addition, watching the creature where it prowled back and forth around the perimeter of the yard.

Another beam of light cut through the room, though they did not turn to see who it might be.

The sound that followed was a sort of scuttling noise, slimy and wet against the open floor.

The Mandicar approached from behind and paused just to the right and behind their left side, a lead scientist by trade, she was one of the most important life forms on his staff.

They turned to address her.

Four thick stumpy tentacles undulated and wriggled, pulling her heavy body across the floor. The sacules on the side of her torso wobbled with her movement, and thousands of tiny breathing holes across her skin expanded and contracted with the movement of airflow. 

“What have you discovered?” They wondered, though-- nothing the tint of blue on the tips of her tentacles, the could see that she was very excited.

“A glorious discovery! Very exciting and like nothing we have ever seen before. Each creature better than the last. I have four new species to report about, and add to our collected knowledge on exoctic lifeforms.”

“Go on.”

“The names are decided Duopedus Secandi, Volantes Planita, and Magnum Turpis, Though the children have taken to calling the first a Duos because they cannot pronounce the proper scientific name. It is a very popular creature with our guests, very active. IT has even been seen to interact with some of the guests.”

“Tell me, what have you learned about this creature.”

She adjusted herself clearly excited to be giving a presentation. That is why they had hired her. While they were not particularly interested about the welfare and maintenance of these creatures, studies had shown that a happy creature that was well taken care of was more likely to live a long time, and therefore draw more of a profit. Not to mention that the sentient species tended to react best when there was someone around to boost enthusiasm, and he had to admit she was very good at that.

“Oh it's a lovely little creature, quite adorable really, the way it scampers around on its little feet.”

“Focus.”

“Oh, sorry.” The sacules at her sides flushed purple, “Well we know the basic so far. Obviously it is a bipedal carbon-based consumer lieform. Its primary needs are Oxygen and water. An analysis of its structures, including teeth, eyes and other notable features seem to suggest that it is an omnivorous predator. Early studies seem to suggest it has a relatively high IQ, maybe that of a small child though it does not seem capable of language, at least not that we understand. It’s range of speech are in extremely high pitches, and it barely seems to be able to hear us much less us hear it.”

“How very interesting.”

“Isn’t it! Anyway, I took the liberty of analysing it, so that we might better accommodate its needs. And so far what I have determined is,... well the creature is very cute, but it is a complete  biohazard risk.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all of its byproducts are completely volatile and hazardous to health. We have tested and analysed some of it by products and determined it to have some sort of symbiotic relationship with bacteria that live in its innards. These bacteria help the creature digest in exchange for maintained life, but due to this many of these bacterial lifeforms are expelled and cause great hazard. This process begins in the mouth meaning if this creature were to bite, it could lead to a likely lethal infection.” “We will have to put barriers in front  of the enclosure than.”

“Precisely.”

“ Now  as to more health related topics. The creature is capable of consuming a very versatile diet though its resistance to infection is a little less than one might have hoped, so it’s food will need to be properly cleaned. The diet itself should contain a wide variety of complex structures as it cannot produce by itself some of the chemicals required to feed it. That should not be hard, I would suggest injecting supplements into the food we are already rationing to it. This should include meat as I have said before. As a consumer based lifeform it both requires and expends a great deal of energy. I imagine it will be one of the viewers favorites due to the increased activity level. Furthermore -- as related to my earlier discussion -- its pen should be cleaned weekly if not biweekly. A clean water source should be provided, one that has likely been sterilized as it seems the water on its native planet was not prone to bacterial interference.”

“Seems strangely needy for a creature that has a symbiotic relationship with bacteria.”

“A very specific kind of bacteria.”

“Alright then, what else do we know?”

“The creature is bipedal as you are aware, though its feet and skin are relatively soft. It will require sand in its enclosure for maximum comfort, not to mention that it will need a shaded place to rest in order to stay out of the direct rays of the sun. Its skin has no natural defences against UV light making me think that it is likely a creature meant for the shade, though I cannot be certain. That is merely a guess based on the very light color of its dermal layer.” 

They nodded, “That can definitely be arranged.”

“Now, analysis also demonstrates a high production of oil in the skin and the hair. We see this as some kind of over-production, so it might be best to add a second kind of water source for it to bathe itself. The skin is water-proof but also requires moisture, and I think that a slow running river through the habitat would be a nice touch for the creature. Since it does not have fur, and the body has to work to thermoregulate, I would suggest temperatures around 75-80 degrees with 45-55% humidity index. Furthermore analysis of the bone structure might suggest that the creature originally evolved from an animal that walked on all fours, for this reason the feet, the knees and the lower back are especially prone to issue. IT will need somewhere comfortable to lay down, likely in that same shaded area I mentioned before. Something with enough padding to support the spine and allow for the bones of its hips and shoulders not to become soar.”

They were working to type this up in a report and send it out to the lieforms who built the habitats.

“What else do we know?”

“Since the creature has an increased intelligence quotient, I would suggest stimulating the environment. Add in some kind of activities or puzzles for it to solve, so that it will not be bored, otherwise it could become destructive. OUr analysis suggests that it was likely supposed to be a social creature, so Maybe adding a ground level window for it to interact with guests. We can see if maybe we can tame the creature so that the keepers might be able to provide it with some socialization. I hesitate to do that though because it still is a wild animal.”

They shifted turning to look at the camera feed, where the Duos was still wandering the perimeter of its enclosure.

“I thought you said it was docile.”

“It was injured when we found it, which was a likely reason, but I have done some tests on its chemical structure, and it seems to me that the creature produces some kind of hormone that stimulates the aggression centers of its brain. If this creature were to get out of its cage and be in a bad mood, it has a bite force of 162 pounds per square inch which is capable of tearing flesh and even amputating small lims on some of our guests, not to mention that the claws on the tips of its fingers can break skin. There is also evidence that it can turn its saliva into a projectile, which means that it can spread its biohazard up to around 32 feet, though that is on the extreme end of the spectrum.”

“This creature is really than dangerous?””

She sighed loudly through her entire body, the sacks at her sides quivering with the movement, “You see, that is the difficult part to determine because…. I would have to say no. It is not as dangerous generally as most of the creatures we keep here, but it is just dangerous enough in a variety of ways that the aggregate makes it especially concerning. Take the fact that the creature is not venomous, but it's just enough of a biohazard to behave like it is. Its bite isn’t that strong and its teeth aren’t that sharp, but still enough to rip flesh. Its not as strong as some animals, but strong enough to know someone over and hurt them badly. It isn’t very fast, but faster than some. IT isn’t the smartest we have seen -- that goes to the Volontes Planita-- but it is smart enough that we have to be careful. It isn’t aggressive, but it has the potentiality to be.” She ran her tentacles over the ground, “I think what I am trying to say is that the creature isn’t particularly impressive in any one aspect, but its abilities are so diverse than it aggregates into something greater than the sum of its parts.”

They nodded in great interest, “Go on.”

“It can run, it can jump, it can bite, it can spit, it can throw, it can crawl, oh and it can climb, that is probably something important you are going to have to look out for. An analysis of its feet and hands suggest great dexterity of a four legged creature that once spent most of its timb climbing, and while this creature spends most of its time walking on land there are still structures in there that make it an excellent climber as it can grip very well with the hands and partially with the feet. The hands in particular are an important structure to keep an eye on as the creature has an amazing dexterity with them.”

“How so?”

“IF could probably perform complex medical procedures if we asked it to, not that that would really be possible.”

“Good, good. I will get this down to the workers immediately, and they will make an enclosure for it.”

“Ah…. but there is one more thing.”

“What is that?”

“It seems as if we are not the first one to have captured this creature?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” They demanded, turning around to look at the scientist with great interest and agitation.

“The body is not completely organic. The skeletal structure on its outer layer that we once thought of as some kind of exoskeleton is not organic.”

“Not organic!”

“No sir, it seems to be made out of titanium and steel. Not to mention that one of its legs has been replaced, along with one of its eyes.”

They stood there in shock not entirely sure what to think about that, “It survived without one of its limbs.”

“Yes whatever happened to this creature, one of the legs and the eyes was removed and replaced with analogues. As for the creature itself, it is very durable, and has overactive scar tissue meaning that it heals quickly and from extreme injuries. That is another reason that I express my concern to you as it seems this creature may not be taken down by normal means especially if some other life form has been tampering with it.”

“That is…. horrible .”

Another long sigh, “I know…. Its horrible what they did to it. I can’t believe someone would be so callous. How it must have suffered.”

“Well, get it moved into a new enclosure, and see that its needs are taken care of. I want to send some of my people back to see if we can learn anything about the species that has been tampering with it.”

“Of course.” 

She turned and headed towards the door.

They called after her and she turned, “Be careful, if that creature is half as dangerous as you say it is, we will want to be cautious.” ***

I was not going with them.

I sat at the center of my ‘pen’ arms crossed and looking at the open cage door at the other side of the enclosure.

These asshole bastards had put me in a fucking zoo,and now they expected me to cooperate for a measly piece of fruit. Despite popular opinion from my brothers I am not a fucking monkey and will not be bribed to go with out.

I had already done a preliminary examination of the enclosure. It was nothing to write home about  -- aside form the fact that I was it’s occupant which bothered me greatly, and made me feel some serious feelings for the lions at the zoo who must have been just as pissed off as I was.

The walls were too high and too smooth to climb, and at their top I could see a thousand eyes staring down at me. Now its not like there were a thousand people to look on, but some of these freaky aliens had like ten ees which greatly skewed the eye count.

They gestured with tentacles and limbs and and any other appendages towards me as I sat arms crossed glowering towards the door.

A part of me greatly wanted to flip all of them off or moon them or something, but just because I was being treated like a monkey didn’t mean I had to act like one.

I could see the handlers moving just outside the cages trying to coax me in by tossing in more fruit. In a way watching them struggle was kind of funny. Based on their behavior, I would wager to say they had no idea that I was sentient. If they ever found out this was going to ook really stupid for them.

Now if they have a plate of my mom’s Pumpkin Pie in there, than MAYBE that would work, number one because pie is great and number two because that would imply they were keeping my mother captive to make pies, which was something I could hardly stand for.

Let them do what they want.

I needed to find a way out because this was DEFINITELY not ok.

This is not how I was going to spend the rest of my days.

For sure.

I had to be smart about this. Sitting there in the sand I began to devise a plan. The important part obviously was not to let on about how intelligent I really was. Unfortunately a lot of that might already have been undone, but maybe if I acted enough like an animal, than it would lower their guard and they would make somes sort of mistake.

Remember, I still had the Iron eye armor on my side, and an advanced prosthetic leg. Not to mention a knife and two spearheads which had been concealed under my leaves, so I was not completely helpless.

Although, you know what, retract my earlier statement. Maybe acting like a monkey is exactly what I needed to do to get out of this place. Make myself look docile and harmless, lower security and get my ass out of here.

Man I wish I was smarter, for sure, but I guess flying by the seat of my pants was going to have to do.

I cracked my knuckles and then my neck.

Time to go back to my animal roots.

Yeah, laugh all you want but it is much easier to behave like an animal when you are actually behaving like an animal.  I couldn’t convince them i wasn't bipedal already, but I made sure to behave all the other ways like an animal, slowly and nervously approaching the opening, stepping half in and then backing out, quickly grabbing some fruit and then running off with it. Eating pieces of it messily and with both hands. Using my teeth as much as possible.

Yeah yeah, I felt pretty dumb, but this was my first idea so I might as well roll with it.

Once that piece of fruit was done, I wandered over and nervously crawled in on all fours testing the ground with my hands.

OF course I could already see the hatch way that was going to come slamming down as soon as I crawled inside. I may be an idiot but I am a sentient idiot, and just as I thought it would, as soon as I crawled in far enough, the door slammed shut. I made a big show of getting spooked and racing around the sindie of the cage jumping up against the walls until finally curling up piteously in a corner. All the while I am watching carefully how they contain me, and it seems as if their transfer method is pretty solid. I had more likelihood of breaking out in the pen.

I wait quietly in my corner as the box is moved, and suddenly the door slides open again. 

I do my best to look hesitant and scared as I poke my head out into the sun.

A waft of pleasantly warm air hits me.

Crawling out, I crawl out onto nice warm sand. A stream trickles past my feet not a few feet away, and just to my right a little shaded nest has been made up below a tall covering. There are branches and steel bars lined around the enclosure, meaning I guess they figured out that humans can climb. 

Overhead I can see a steel cage cutting off my escape from the top.

Or so they thought.

It was a pleasant little place all told, almost like a beachfront island paradise with the perfect temperature and humidity.

I crawled up over to the next and took a seat hidden behind the leaves.

Well fuck their beachfront property and comfortable captivity.

I would rather be a free man suffering than a well groomed pet in a cage.

I was going to escape.

[tardis-ghost-blog]

Mind’s spark (The Master x Reader)

CW: Sexual content

The past year had been a wild ride. Not only had your learned that there really were aliens visiting earth, but also that they came there regularly. Somehow you had ended up travelling with the Doctor and Martha for a time. Then the year that never was had struck. You had been a prisoner on the Valiant, only a servant.

But the insane Time Lord had proven to be... not as insane as he made people believe. You had learned about the drums, when you had found him, one day, curled to a ball on the ground, shaking. You had shown him kindness, despite how you had been treated there. Somehow it had ended in the two of you becoming something like unlikely friends.

And then he had died.

And then he had returned.

You remembered the white light, the pull of the vanishing time war. You saw how the Master came way too close, maybe even intentional. So you ran and grabbed his hoodie, tore him backwards. Since then he was travelling with the Doctor and you, even though he kept mostly to himself.

The drums never vanished. And the Master took his time to figure out where his place in the universe was. After having learned how his own kind had used and abused him, he needed a break. A break from everything, including himself.

Aside from you. Being together made him forget about the drums for a while. He even agreed to follow on a few adventures without sowing (much) chaos. If your perception of time wasn't completely off, it had to be roughly half an earthen year until you had stormed out of a dangerous situation, soaked by an ongoing rainstorm - and he had grabbed you, pulled you closer the same moment you grabbed his jacket, your lips had met, rough, hungry, then passionate, gentle. Soft and heated kisses through smiles and the falling rain.

-oOo-

This morning you slipped out of your dreams with ease, feeling as if you had the best night's rest in a while. A small ray of emulated sunlight bathed the blankets with warmth as did the arm that held you tight. You lay on your side, snuggled up against the Master's chest. It was rising and falling regularly, indicating that he was still asleep. You smiled, cuddled a little closer. No wonder you slept so well.

It also meant he had been up all night, only finding rest in the last hour or so. Time Lords didn't sleep much, after all.

Still, You decided not to wake him, lay still and listened to the soothing double heartbeat against your ear. Never would you get used to the strange sound, never would you get tired of it.

The Master shifted a little, without waking. Only his arm gripped you a little tighter, pulled you closer against him. He was practically curling himself around you, both in a protective and possessive manner; quite as if he wanted to make clear that you were his, and his alone. Even in his dreams.

Your heart jumped and sped up a bit at the thought. It was weird and unexpected, but somehow you loved the idea of being owned like that. It meant you were valuable, worthy to be treated like a treasure; to be treated like no one else in his life.

It was then that you got aware of something else, something you had been a little curious about, if you were honest, and that now made you grin.

Apparently, Time Lords did indeed get morning boners.

There was just no way you could keep yourself from giggling a little, although feeling horribly childish at the same time. He didn't wake up, so you silenced yourself to a mean smirk.

Now, though, it was almost impossible to ignore the slight pressure against your thigh any longer, even when you tried your best to concentrate on his heartbeat again. The Master shifted slightly, almost not at all, but it was enough to make you grit your teeth.

It really was annoying to have a human body, you pondered, breathing deeply to get yourself to calm down. You watched the Master's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, almost innocent. Obviously the drums weren't bothering him, right now. You thought about those, how there might not be a cure, now that the Time Lords were gone for good, and it was a sad thought.

You watched him just breathe. It was still fascinating that Time Lords slept at all. For the longest time you had been convinced they wouldn't. Well, you also hadn't know they could get a...

Nope. You forced your thoughts away from that. He smiled. You frowned. The smile faded slowly, but his expression stayed somewhat serene. What you would give to know what he was dreaming. If only he wouldn't hold you so tight you might be able to reach up your hands. Could you initiate mental contact when he was asleep? Would that be an invasion?

Probably.

You decided to try it out another time, when he was awake and could help. You remembered the first time you had slipped into his mind, some time ago. Ever since, there was an unfamiliar craving to melt your minds together. It had felt amazing, like a rush, a dance, a gentle caress, like a deep, longing kiss. And so much more.

You groaned almost silently into his shirt, clutched your hands around the cloth.

Wrong train of thoughts.

The hand at your back twitched a little, stilled. Some seconds passed, then it pushed your lower half slightly closer. Your breath shuddered involuntarily. You looked up and met a pair of hazel eyes. His gaze was still a bit foggy from sleep, but his lips already twitched in amusement.

"D... did I wake you?" you asked, trying to keep your tone of voice neutral.

"No," he mumbled. "Close, though. Your scent is... vibrant."

You flushed bright red. It didn't help that you felt him press against you some more the closer he drew you, neither did that the only cloth between you were your T-Shirt and knickers. His mean chuckle gave away that he was fully aware of this. Then, suddenly, he moved again, and it took you completely by surprise how quick he was. You landed on your back, the Master kneeling above you, face split by a grin and so close to yours, your noses almost touched.

"There must be some nasty thoughts running through your mind, little one," he purred and leaned closer, brushing your lips lightly.

"N... none of them were particularly nasty." Which was the truth. Sort of. "But..." you smiled impishly, bringing up a hand to drag him closer, "since you're awake now..."

You closed your eyes when your lips found together. His fingers roamed over your sides, his hands wandered around your middle, to your back, pulled you up against him. Through the thin cloth of your shirt your breasts rubbed against his chest. Just enough to spark a new wave of heat between your legs.

You arched against him some more, one of his hands holding you in place at the small of your back, the other slipping under your shirt, trailing over bare skin. You moaned softly when he twirled one nipple in his fingers, then the other, then wandered higher slightly. He left a tingling path between your breasts, barely touching you with his fingertips, slid the same way back, lower, over your belly, just close enough to the rim of your underwear to make your squirm.

A soft chuckle slightly dragged your thoughts away from what his hands were doing to you. "You have no idea how much I love what I can do to you with just a few touches."

"Then don't stop."

A new shiver of pleasure went through you when he started to trail hot kisses over your belly, dragging your shirt up in the process until he had reached your breasts again, sucking the left one in and driving you crazy with his tongue.

You moaned when he pushed his arousal against your core. Even through all the fabric you were still wearing, it made you unbelievably lightheaded. You arched against him again, aching for more friction. The Master gave in, rocked his length against you, let himself slide over your clit with just enough pressure to make your shiver in his arms.

His forehead dropped against yours, his breath ghosting your lips. You reached up, hesitantly placed your fingertips near his temples. The Master stilled. His eyes bore into yours for a moment, hungry, craving.

"You want that?" he asked, unable to hide his ragged breathing from you, the excitement that came with the thought alone.

"I... if you don't... mind?" You wasn't sure whether it was appropriate or not.

The Master stared down at you as if you had said something extremely stupid. Then a grin split his lips and the hand on your back pulled you with him as he sat up. He pulled you into his lap, one of your legs on either side of his. You felt him press hard against you through the thin fabric of your knickers.

"Go on then." His voice was reassuring and challenging at the same time.

You swallowed and nodded, raising your fingers to his temples once more, your eyes seeking his. So far you had only initiated this once and felt a little uncertain. There was a half teasing smile on the Master's lips and he closed his eyes, waiting. You took a breath, tried to ignore the slight pressure against your damp underwear, tempered down the urge to rock against him a little. Instead you focused on your fingers, imagined your consciousness flowing through them into his mind.

Something... clicked.

You fell inside your own mind, no, inside his... yours. The border blurred. He panted out a soft groan, pulled you closer against him. A warm stream of energy engulfed your thoughts, intertwined with your essence. You reached out, drove deeper, carefully, but determined. For a moment you felt like a tiny candle in the vastness of space, got aware of how much more the Master was. His essence slowly enveloped your own, carefully slipped between the spaces of your awareness, until you could no longer tell where you ended and he started.

A shuddering breath escaped your lungs. "I think that's too much for me."

"We can end it," the Master offered softly, his thumb stroking over your side.

You felt the sincerity of his words, knew he wouldn't risk harming you. "Not what I meant." You chuckled and fed his confusion through the mental connection with your own emotions. Or tried at least. You had no real clue what you did there.

It seemed to work though, as his sharp inhale implied, and the grin you saw through half opened lids. The Master guided your minds like interlaced fingers, his lips found Yours again and each touch was amplified, felt like fire and ice at the same time. You groaned into his mouth, chased his tongue. Your hands slid from his head, knowing your connection would stay in place now. You roamed your fingers over his chest, traced down over his abdomen and teased the tip of his prominent erection through his boxers.

Like a small spark you could feel a wave of arousal that wasn't your own. Not that it mattered. It felt as if you were right on the edge anyway. Your intermingled minds had long set your whole body on fire, made every thought so intense you briefly wondered if you could orgasm without him even touching you. There was a smirk against your lips, then a tug at your essence, and suddenly you felt touch where none was, the Master igniting your nerves with his mind alone, making you squirm and almost tip over the edge within seconds. But he held your there, just close enough. His enjoyment at your mewls sparkling through your mind.

"Fuck," you hissed out and grinned at him. "Damn you."

He chuckled, dragged you against him and started to trail down a line of hot kisses from your neck to your collar bone. One of his hands slipped under your shirt, only to draw small, agonizing circles directly below your navel, decidedly staying far away from where you most wanted to have him.

You shuddered under his touch, cursed him for teasing you like that. You took his head in both hands to drag him up for another kiss, wanting to savour the intensity of the moment. Then you slipped a hand into his shorts, gingerly skimming your fingertips over his whole length. A new wave of arousal hit you, rumbled warm and deep in your lower abdomen. It was almost addicting to feel what you did to him, how his essence flared. You craved to have him lose control, wanted him to melt under your touch. So you stopped the teasing and took him in your hand, firmly stroking up and down, heard (felt?) the low growl deep in his chest.

He pressed his lips harder against yours, his tongue demanding entrance that you granted all too willingly. Your thumb slid over his tip and something lit up inside your mind, made you almost yelp in surprise. The Master chuckled at your reaction, but it was weak and short and interrupted by a breathed out groan, when you repeated the motion.

His hand had long stopped teasing you, but now he slipped it into your knickers, one finger firmly circling your clit. You broke the kiss, sucking in air. Your forehead dropped against his and you stayed like this, both panting, both halting all your movements for the briefest moment, allowing for a blink of silence in your minds.

He trailed lower, easily pushed two fingers inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips. His touch and his mind together almost let you shatter, right here and now. Your own hand started to move again, and it became almost impossible to distinguish between your own pleasure and his. It was so bloody good to actually feel how you brought him closer, how his mind flickered from time to time.

The Master's essence wrapped around your own more firmly, slipped into every corner he could reach, filled out your awareness. The flow of energy in your head felt raw and almost overpowering. His breath ghosted hot against your lips and your eyes crept open, when you somehow realized he had stopped moving inside you altogether, his fingers had left, instead digging into your sides.

Good. You smiled, stroked more firmly, felt him shiver with every move. The feedback loop in your minds dragged you right along, ignited the wish to have him inside you. But having him at your mercy like this, feeling how he surrendered himself to you, how his awareness was solely on your hand around him, it was almost too much to bare already.

He was so close, his breath ragged, fingers digging into your sides. You gently nudged your thoughts against his and his eyes crept open, iris swallowed by his wide pupils. He let out a breath that sounded like your name, then captured your mouth, let his lips sensually move against yours. A pleasant shiver went down your spine, made you ache for him even more. You could wait, though, savoured every second, every spark in your head that told you he got closer. The kiss got sloppy, stopped, your lips only lingering, now. Your whole body was shivering and with a last stroke the Master panted out his release, spilled himself hot over your hand and flooded your mind. You gasped at the sensation, trembled as you felt him nudge against the spot in your head he had teased before, and within seconds you cried out as you came undone, shuddering, clenching around nothing and still feeling amazing in ways you had never experienced before.

Somewhere through the dazed fog you got aware of lips on yours again, slowly dragging you back to consciousness. The kiss was slow and intensely tender. Along with it a gentle warmth pooled into your mind, wrapped around your thoughts like a blanket. You sighed content and reached out, tried to give something back, something you had no name for, but was still a truth in itself.

The Master raised his hands, cradled your face in them and slowly stroked his thumbs over your cheeks. It was so hard not to get lost in the shared connection, not to drown in the vastness it offered. Eventually you got aware that your hand was still in his boxers and you got it out, wiping it clean on his shirt in the process.

"Oi," he protested, smirking.

"Guess you'll have to change anyway," you quietly teased back.

The Master chuckled, dropped his forehead against yours. "I was more thinking about getting rid of those pesky clothes. Especially yours."

His mind gave a slight nudge that made you gasp and clutch his shirt. A new itch of arousal pooled warmly into your lower parts, reminding you of how little time the Master needed to recover. But for now he didn't move, just took in your presence, the mere sensation of your mind.

Faintly, somewhere in the far distance of your awareness, you thought to make out a rhythm of four beats. But that might have just been his hearts, drumming under your fingertips. And you were quite determined to silence the former and speed up the latter. If only for a short time.

[asclepius-erebus]

Nevarro

Title: Personal Eden (Ongoing)

Chapter 3: Nevarro

Rating: Mature (17+)

Word Count: 4.3k

TW: mentions of abuse (lmk if I should include any more!)

The next day, as anticipated, you land on Nevarro, where upon disembarking a flurry of droids scurry up to the ship.

“Hey!” Mando yells, paralyzing all the droids, “No droids!”

You learn that the baby is not in fact Mando’s, but a foundling he’d taken up first as a quarry but then adopted. You’re not sure what’s so special about this child, but for it to have a bounty over it’s head before it can intelligibly speak seemed cruel enough, and you don’t ask any further questions.

You also learned that Mando is a man of few words. He tends to keep his responses curt and to-the-point; and never straying away from the subject of conversation. From your observation, he has not gone onto tangents or disclosed any new information, willingly, that did not immediately pertain to the topic. It made it even more difficult for you to learn anything new about him, his character, humors, and appearance. He is a complete mystery, and yet you find him fascinating all the while he continues to intimidate with both his outward appearance, and lack of openness.

The day on Nevarro is grey despite the sky being totally clear. The landscape isn’t strikingly beautiful like some of the other planets you’ve been on with Malsifer. It’s gritty, dusty, and terribly suffocating. The air feels dense and warm, that kind that made you feel sticky and uncomfortable. The sky is a dull blue, but blue nontheless.

Since joining Mando on his ship, he’d allowed you the time to wash off the caked on makeup from the other night, some of which you’d cried off, like your ruby red lips. It was a nice color, you were fond of how well it complimented your skin and the shape of your lips- but it had overstayed its time on your face and it was time for it to go.

However, upon stepping onto the rough planet, you realize how out of place you appear to be. Not only is the green alien child perched on your hip and babbling to himself, but you’re still dressed in what Mando had rescued you in a few days ago. The wispy fabrics fluttered in the subtle warm breezes, carrying with them the muted but bright colors of an oceanside sunset of lavender, magenta, and gold. You felt exposed among the muted and dark colors that Mando and his child limited themselves to, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Mando’s child begins to fuss, deciding that he wanted to meander around in the dirt as Mando took a few steps towards an unfamiliar man. The man is of a darker complexion, though his beard and hair suggests he is of a wiser age, and extended a friendly hand to shake. They must already know each other.  

The child giggles and laughs, grasping and tossing any rocks he finds on the ground. You crouch to his level, structuring his play by tossing him back the rocks he’d thrown. From this, he giggles excitedly.

~~

“Greef.” Mando greets the aging man, Greef Karga, approaching him at the opening to the city, densely lined with clay houses and open markets. It teems with a unique variety of inhabitants and passersby- like Mando, who does not stand out in the crowd as obviously as the brightly colored dresses his new acquaintance was dressed in. That, was something he’d address soon enough.

“Mando.” Greef smiles, eyes lighting up upon seeing the familiar helmet, “How are you old friend?”

Mando looks over his shoulder at his companions before returning his attention to Greef, “Surprised to be back. What are you doing out here?” He asks with a tired sigh.

Greef raises an inquisitive eyebrow, “I’m just as surprised to see you out here… Tying up a few loose ends. Who’s your new friend?”

Mando hooks his gloved fingers at the top of his chest plate, resting his arms casually over himself and relieving some of the weight of the Beskar on his shoulders, “That’s who I’m here to find some information about. She’s one of Malsifer’s.”

“Malsifer?” Greef’s eyes widen, “What is she? A quarry?”

Mando’s helmet shakes, “No, Malsifer was. Malsifer had an indentured servant situation and I need to know more about her… Anything would be useful, but especially any bank records.” Mando says quietly, sliding a small note with the name of his newest crewmate scribbled onto it.

Greef looks down at the note inquisitively, “Malsifer, huh? Doesn’t surprise me… He always rubbed me the wrong way… Though I’m not surprised that his luck, or lack of it, finally caught up to him.”

“She’s got no where to go. Is there any way you can find out anything about her that’s useful…?”

Greef looks between Mando and the cooing child and woman behind him, and then down at the name on the note, “Get back to me in an hour or two.”

~~

Mando turns to wave yourself and the baby to his side, the man with whom he was conversing with turning away and headed into the city.

“What was that about?” You ask, the baby occupying itself with a metal ball he’s produced from his bundle of clothing.

“Business.” He says briefly.

Business. You think to yourself, the most colorful response I’ve gotten since I boarded.

With the baby balanced on your hip, Mando navigates you both through the streets of a busy marketplace. Vendors line the streets and advertise their products and produce, crafts, and other items for sale, all ranging in complexity and beauty that you admire from a distance. The baby on your hip is thoroughly entertained with all the sights, sounds, and colors, teething on a pastry he managed to swipe off a vendor when they weren’t looking.

Of course you attract some attention. Not only did it not help that the baby you tote clearly is not yours, but your impractical and fluttering dresses had other passerby step and trip on them as you went- sending you a few gross side-eyes and raised eyebrows. You clutch what you can in your hands as you follow Mando’s glistening helmet through the crowd.

He approaches a stand fluttering with colorful fabrics, handcrafted designs embroidered to the hems of cloaks, dresses, and shirts. They’re all so pretty and wonderful to look at.

Mando begins a conversation with a middle aged woman at the stand in her native language, her weathered face and dark eyes glancing at you from time to time as Mando continues to explain something to her. She raises her hand and counts on her fingers as she explains something to him in response, Mando filling her palm with a few coins. Pleased, she nods and produces a neatly folded up wad of fabric. She extends it towards you with a forced but friendly smile.

“Something to cover yourself with for now…” Mando explains, “Later, on the ship, I can find you some clothes.”

Accepting the folded fabric, you briefly study its particular shade of purple. It’s dark and neutral, almost barely detectably purple should someone care enough and stare long enough at you. You unfold it to find an opening, and you slip it over your head, a hood catching on you as the rest of the fabric settles on your shoulders and over your torso. The baby gets caught in it too, but frees himself with a shake of his enormous head. It is a cloak, the fabric feeling pleasurably heavy on your figure and comfortable on your bare shoulders. It feels protective and warm, but breathable and completely functional as an everyday garment. Not only does it feel well, but it conceals you much better amongst everyone else.  

“I buy my cloaks off her.” Mando responds simply, the first time he’s shared a new fact about himself, “She’s also going to find you a pair of shoes.”

He’s right. Perhaps the pair of sandals tied at your ankles aren’t the best fit for a shoe to be blundering around planets with. It was certainly enough for the occasions you accompanied Malsifer to meeting his clients, and the extent of your time out in the elements was limited to barely nothing. Malsifer concerned himself more with whether you appeared to his liking and aesthetics.

The older woman returns, producing a short pair of dark brown leather boots of a matte finish. They are simple and easy to slip on, with no intricate buckles, zippers, or ties. They hug your feet comfortably and accomplishes all the criteria necessary for being a practical piece of footwear.

Mando glances around and hands the woman a few extra coins, nodding in thanks as she accepts them and waves kindly at the child on your hip.

“Thank you.” You tell Mando as the three of you walk away from the stand of fluttering fabrics. He doesn’t react, at least as far as you can observe from the faceless helmet that you looked at when speaking to him.

“We have some time before we meet up with Greef again.” Mando says, ignoring what you’d said, “We can-“

“-Take a look around.” You interrupt, your curiosity about the rest of the market piqued. Surely there were other useful and interesting things the three of you can look at other than the four metal walls of Mando’s ship.

Mando agrees, but you’re not necessarily sure if it was from acquiescence or genuine concurrence.

It is difficult to read him, you’ve noticed it bothering you, without any facial expressions and other visual cues to clue you into his mood. His body language was often also very grey and difficult to deduce. This is unlike what you’ve relied on in the past to understand and predict other people’s behaviors. Malsifer was an individual very prone to giving himself way via his expressions and tone of voice, which made it easier to clue you into how you should respond, if at all. It’s natural to rely on social cues in order to know how to respond to a given situation, but with Mando, it feels quite the contrary.

He strolls with you at a relaxed pace, his hand firmly placed on the hilt of his blaster he keeps attached to his waist.  

Your eyes flicker between his helmet and his hand. You’d seen him use his blaster with deadly precision, it drove you to tears to see the barrel trained at the space between your eyes. You hadn’t heard of stormtroopers being as accurate, and you question what he is, and what he represents. You can already deduce that he’s a bounty hunter, why else would he be looking for quarry? But why the child? Why the armor? And why the ship you’d finally observed to be very Old Republic.

“Mando-“ You begin to ask curiously…“Can I ask you a question?”… cautiously.

“Sure.” He says simply, his helmet turning to observe a long blaster rifle on display at a vendor.

“Where are you from?”

Mando’s helmet continues to follow the long rifle as he walks away, “No where. I was a foundling.”

“A foundling from where?” You ask again. “Who found you?”

“I don’t remember.” He says dryly, his gaze returning forward as he scans the vendors again till something catches his eye… visor.

“So then what’s with the armor?”

He stops midstride, and you sense that you’ve either said something wrong or insulted him in some way.

Your cheeks immediately feel like their burning despite the chill that raced down your spine. You blink back a million-and-one thoughts and possibilities on how he might respond. Was he mad? Dumbfounded? Absolutely furious? It’s too hard to tell. By the way he’d stopped and now turned his head towards you, your hands clench into a fist- not prepared to strike, but to brace.

He chuckles. He chuckles. Warmly, softly, and bemusedly, his modulated blitheness is musical and so incredibly comforting. You’re not sure how you should react. It’s not the reaction you’d braced yourself for. After all, you’d insulted him, didn’t you?

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never seen Mandalorian armor before?” He asks, resuming the slow pace he took beside you.

You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you resume walking a few paces behind him. The child, unbothered, continues to chew on the pastry and inquisitively looks between yourself and Mando.

“I’m surprised Malsifer never let you see one.” He says, “No wonder you seemed pretty scared when I was there.”

You’d kept your gaze down at your feet as you walked, feeling ashamed to ask a dumb question in the first place. Of course you knew what a Mandalorian was, but you’d only ever read about them in flimsi books you’d managed to smuggle in and out of Malsifer’s library. They seem downright fictional, down to their very demeanors of being militant and mute. It didn’t help that the only information accessible to you came in bound flimsi books that in itself was probably older than yourself or Malsifer’s combined existence. You’d never seen their armor, at least not the kind that Mando was sporting in pure Beskar and with a helmet that looked too much like a storm trooper’s. You’d sooner expect he was an ex-trooper, or someone who simply stole or bought their armor.

“It was terrifying.” You admit softly, “You, pointing a blaster in my face. Doesn’t help that you’ve got all that armor.”

You see his boots stop moving and turn towards you. You still keep your gaze down, distracting your hands with the child’s robes as the crumbs of his treat fell from his face.

“Look at me.” He says sternly, and you obey, looking up into his visor, “You need to… unlearn whatever this is.”

You chew your lip, intimidated by his presence so close and so powerful over you. You fight yourself and your nervous glances away from the glare of his visor.  

“I don’t know what Malsifer put you through, but here, with us… none of it.” He continues, “Can’t have you walking behind me like some shadow, not with my kid.” He takes a step back from you and turns away, but stops.

His shoulders drop and his demeanor softens, “You were walking next to me.” He says, awaiting for you meet him at his side, “You were saying…”

Meeting up with him, the child in your arms coos and reaches out to Mando, who scoops him up from your grasp and you hide your arms under the cloak. He is right, it’s different with Mando and his kid. This is an equal playing field where you’re a part of a cohort of other individuals just like you. Of course, Mando is the leader, he provides, flies, and protects. The new dynamic is refreshing, but old habits are hard to beat. Which isn’t a natural nor healthy response. But neither was being caned across your knees and shins if you didn’t do so.

Mando stops at a vendor selling a wide assortment of things. They all seem extremely random, from switchboards to datatapes to bacta kits. Perhaps these are things the vendor was able to scavenge off broken ships and droids, this isn’t the first time you’d seen scrap collectors try to sell off what they can’t trade at a refinery. You’ve heard of such beings called Jawas who are infamous for such scavenging, but you also know that they’re not entirely open to the idea of selling what they find.

Mando strikes up a conversation with the vendor, a tall and slender specimen with small black eyes and three digits on each of their four arms. They’re haggling, is what you can assume, as Mando shakes his head and points to a well-stocked bacta kit on the table. The vendor insists on a certain price, counting it off on his palms before accepting a deal with Mando’s budget. He swipes the bacta off the table, and tosses it.

You catch it and immediately hide it under your cloak. Mando notices, walking away from the vendor saying, “Keep that there, don’t want him noticing he let me take the wrong one.”

His dry friendliness is welcoming, it made you feel like you were walking with a friend rather than a tank. The child giddily had finished his snack and entertained himself with his metal ball, which now you’d deduced was from a switch or lever, likely coming from the cockpit of the ship.  

“So… your armor. Mandalorian?” You ask, keeping pace with him.

He nods, “Mandalorian.”

You think back to what you’d read about in the flimsis, “If I recall correctly, some Mandalorians choose to keep their helmets on? Or do all of you have to wear it all the time?”

Mando nods, “When I swore to the creed, I swore to keep my identity secret. It’s part of our code.”

“So ‘Mando’ isn’t your real name?” You ask.

“No.”

“So what is your name?”

“Mando.”

You furrow your brows, not wanting to press further. You admire the devotion, despite it frustrating you further. You wanted to learn more of him, but now you know that such learning can no longer pertain to his appearance, and you must now learn his character. Though it wasn’t the only thing weighing on your curiosity, you’ve already begun building his profile.

Like you’d learned during your time in hyperspace that he is a man of not-so-many words. He isn’t aptly good at beginning a conversation, and usually such conversations are limited to small talk on the basis of his work and ship… But that had been debunked when he disclosed that he gets his cloaks from the woman at the colorful stand, and joked to you about the bacta-kit hidden away under your cloak. You hope he will reveal more of himself to you with time. You’re patient enough for that.

You respect that his physical appearance as an extension of his anonymity. It’s not the only instance where you’ve experienced the sort of veiling that came with particular religions, cultural identities, and personal choices. It will be up to him to disclose what he wants and when- it would be rude of you to pester. It’s not your place.  

The three of you walk leisurely, stopping occasionally to look at something interesting at a stall before returning into the direction of the ship. In the distance, you observe the man from earlier standing and waiting for you, Greef, you remember Mando mentioning the name.

Mando hands you the child back into your arms, “Get back on the ship.” He instructs, and you nod, the baby beginning to doze off to sleep in your arms.

~~

“What did you find?” Mando asks taking a few steps towards Greef and out of earshot from his new crewmate.

Greef’s usually friendly smile is thin, “I found one result for her name, one that appears on an obituary. According to the systems, she’s technically dead.”

Mando exhales sharply, disappointed, and curiously tipping his head to the side, “So, what? How long has she been ‘dead’?”

“Five years.” Greef says bleakly, “And she has no digital footprints anywhere. No record of her ever even having an account to hold credits, or receipts from anywhere that she’s spent credits.”  

Mando looks back in the direction of his ship, watching you board the Razor Crest with the child in your arms, how tenderly you hold his head and attend to his sleepy babbling. This is unfortunate news, that Mando would need to tell you sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know what to do with her.” Mando admits quietly, your silhouette disappearing in the ship.

Greef clears his throat, “I know this is none of my business, but the baby seems to like her, it’s pretty obvious… Until she can figure things out on her own, she can stick around, learn a thing or two, and you’ll have someone who can take care of the kid when you have jobs.”

Mando nods, “This isn’t the first time Malsifer faked someone’s death just to drain their accounts?”

“It’s also not the first time he’s trapped pretty young girls into being his personal assistants.” Greef says, raising an eyebrow in Mando’s direction.

“He abused them.” Mando says, “If it wasn’t for their money, what else did he need them for?”

Greef shrugs, folding his arms across his chest, “Malsifer seemed like the controlling type… He liked being in control of anything and everything important to him which is money and power. I don’t think she was a part of anything more sinister, but I certainly wouldn’t rule it out.”

“I’ll find that out more when she feels like talking. Right now… I don’t know what to do with her.” Mando crosses his arms.

Greef looks back at the ship behind Mando and back to his visor, “Let her stay until she can figure something out for herself. She can be useful while you work, keep the ship and the kid safe while you’re out…”

Mando nods again in agreement, “It’s my only option right now. Thank you… for your help.”

Greef smiles, “Anytime, old friend.”

--

Mando appears on the ship shortly after you’d put the child to sleep in his shiny egg-like crib. He’d tired himself out from the morning shopping and was happily full of whatever pastry took him the entire walk to eat.

You’d put the bacta pack in the bacta kit soldered on the metal of ship and managed to clear out some of the dust that had blown into the hull while the door was open. You’d observed Mando’s ship to not only be Old Republic but also just old in general. Though it is in excellent flying condition for its age, it lacked in amenities that more modern ships had like touch-pads instead of buttons and actually finished floors and walls. Either Mando is a man of old fashion, or simply too preoccupied to take care of his ship like others do.

He is quiet, walking up and down the hull checking lights, buttons, datapads, and other things. While he did that, you patiently sit on the familiar wedge prepared to strap into the metal wall and prepare for take-off. Your hands occupy themselves with the hang nails that plague your fingers.

You see, from the corner of your eye, something tan and grey. Looking up, it was Mando, handing off to you a pile of clothing he’d gathered in his quiet pacing around the hull.

“Thank you.” You say softly, standing to get to the fresher.

Mando nods, “Meet me in the cockpit, we need to talk.” And he turns before you can ask any questions. He disappears up the ladder.

The cockpit? You think to yourself curiously, what in the worlds does he want to talk about?

The mirror in the fresher is just reflective enough to call itself a mirror. It clearly once existed as a piece of scrap that Mando had repurposed to decorate the blank wall above the sink. But it fulfilled its purpose in reflecting back the visage of yourself you present every day.

Today, you look tired.

Dark circles around your eyes hint at some much needed deep sleep and the tired squint you gave to yourself only emphasizes this.

You look at the clothing Mando handed to you, consisting of a large white shirt and some pants that definitely needed to be tailored to accommodate your height and lack of… lower… masculine features. These are clearly articles of clothing Mando has no use for, and you’re thankful for them despite Mando’s somewhat apparent reluctance.

You undo yourself from your dress, somewhat sad to see the magical colors fall to the floor in a wispy heap. This was healthy though, a transition into a different person. After all, you’re fulfilling the prophecy you’d begun to brainstorm the first night aboard the ship: a change of clothes.

The shirt is square, harsh but hemmed edges of fabric for sleeves, a collar, and buttons to secure said collar closed. It sat rather high on your neck, so you keep the first two buttons undone, one side of the collar falling open to reveal the raw edge of the hem. The sleeves were of a comfortable length, also squared off with a button for cuff-links that you undo and gently fold up your forearm.

Looking back up at yourself in the mirror, you look like a little girl trying on her father’s clothes. It’s clear that they’re too big, but you make do with tucking and folding where you can. But the broad and structured shoulders the shirt gave you made you feel… bigger? Something about it made you feel more robust.

The pants are… another story. Of course they sat a little low on your hips and were too loose around the area where you lacked the facilities of a man. But the utilities of having so many pockets and places to stow away small items brought you some small joy as you cuff the pants around your ankles and tuck the shirt into them.

You style your hair simply up, anything to keep it away from your face and off your shoulders till it’s time to wash and you think what to do about them then.

Looking back into the crusty mirror, though your eyes see themselves, a whole new person has taken shape behind them. It felt foreign to you to appear so fresh-faced, neutral, and unassuming in a world where Malsifer demanded you always looked your best as an extension of himself and his appearance. That usually translated in wearing makeup on a near-daily basis, and extravagant colorful gowns to even the most casual of events.

The dress is a pastel mess on the floor of the fresher, and looking down at it, you feel a twinge of guilt for having to abandon it. It’s pretty…

You bundle it up and head out from the fresher.

You walk quietly across the hull, your bare feet making light patting noises as you went. Sitting at the wedge in the wall, you ditch the dress behind you and slip on your boots again before standing up, and head towards the cockpit like Mando told you to.

[laurenmm62017]

Jedi June: Day 5

5 Times Luke met Force Ghosts

Prompt: There is no death, there is the Force

This sort of ignores the whole “It takes years of study to learn to become a Force Ghost” thing but oh well.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32046055

@jedijune

~1~

The first time he spoke to someone who was not really there was back on Tattooine. Luke was working on one of the vaporators at the edge of the farm, near the end of the day. He had been working on the damn thing for the better part of the day. One part failed just as another was fixed, but it seemed that Luke finally figured out what was wrong.

He straightened up and wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with a satisfied huff. At that moment, his eyes strayed over to the fence that marked the edge of the farm. Leaning against the electric fence was a Kel Dor, long robes flowing around them. As if that wasn’t strange enough, they were completely blue and translucent. What the kriff?

“Hey!” He shouted over, lowering his hand to his holster to make sure his blaster was there. You could never be too careful with Sand People roaming around. “What are you doing out here? Tosche Station is a long way from here.”

The Kel Dor chuckled, and stood up straight. “So you’re the Luke Skywalker that Ben keeps going on about. A pleasure, young one.”

“Ben? Ben Kenobi? What about him?”

Then, the Kel Dor walked straight through the kriffing fence. Luke’s eyebrows nearly shot off his head at that. He fumbled with his blaster a bit before turning the muzzle towards the… ghost is the only word he could think of. “What the hell??”

“Do not be afraid, young Luke. I mean you no harm. I was simply curious.”

“Y...you’re see through. And blue? What are you?” Luke was so confused.

“Simply a memory from a time past. May the Force be with you, Luke Skywalker. You will do great things. Just like your father before you.”

And just like that, he disappeared, leaving Luke confused and intrigued.

~2~

Luke doesn’t see another ghost until the aftermath of the Death Star explosion (the first one, as he will find out later). Luke had just climbed down from his X-Wing, adrenaline still flowing through his veins. He yanked his helmet off his head and looked hastily around for where the Falcon landed.

As he scanned the landing field, he caught a glimpse of translucent blue, and his mind flashes back to that time on the farm.

Luke weaved through the crowd of Rebel pilots and engineers and mechanics to the edge of the airfield, almost out of sight of everyone.

This figure was tall, much taller than Luke, with hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a mask that covered his eyes with some interesting markings on it. While the last ghost wore Jedi robes, this one was wearing typical Rebel Alliance attire. He was leaning casually against the hanger wall, watching wistfully as a modified Corellian freighter slowly came in for a landing.

“You don’t look much like a Jedi, sir.” Luke called out casually.

The man turned to him and smirked. “Neither do you. You look like a hero of the Rebellion.”

“Ehh, all I did was pull the trigger.”

“And blew up the Empire’s biggest weapon. Come on, kid. Don’t be so modest.”

“Alright, alright, thank you, Master…?”

“My name is Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight. I fought in the early days of the Rebellion, with my crew over there. Maybe you’ve seen them around base.”

Luke and Kanan observed this crew disembarking the Corellian freighter. A Twi’lek woman walked down the ramp holding what looked like a very small baby with bright green hair. A Mandalorian with colorful armor was chatting with an older man with a beard and bright white armor, followed by a ginger-haired man in standard Rebellion clothes and a big purple alien of whom Luke did not know the species of.

“That’s your crew? They seem... formidable.” He looked over this eclectic, mismatched crew, who seemed to know exactly where each other were as they walked towards the rest of the rebels. Luke stared at the crazy amount of modifications on top of this ship. There was almost as much as the Falcon, but this ship actually looked in much better condition. Don’t tell Han he thought that.

“They’re my family. I watch over them through the Force when I am able to. When this war is finally over, then I will feel comfortable with becoming one with the Force.”

Luke’s gaze focused back on this crew and contemplated the last few days. He went from a simple farm boy on Tattooine to hero of the Rebellion in an insanely short period of time. He met a Princess, an old Jedi, and two smugglers that he had become very close to. He really hoped they could become as close as Kanan’s crew appeared to be.

He turned back to Kanan, only to find that he disappeared.

~3~

Luke was recovering from his encounter with Darth Vader- his father when he met the next ghost.

Well, ghosts.

The doctor just left after making sure the stump of his arm wasn’t infected. It wasn’t, and what a relief it was for that small miracle. He was lying down with his eyes closed in a room between two empty beds.

Slowly, as the sedative the doctor gave him worked through his body, he began to sense two? Force signatures, sitting on the bed to his left. They were so melded and tangled together, he almost thought that it was one person.

He turned his head, and there sat two men. The first was wearing robes that looked similar to Old Ben’s robes. He was slightly too thin and his eyes didn’t quite connect with his own. The other was more built, had shoulder length hair, and was wearing a simple shirt and pants.

But Luke could see the way that their bodies were angled towards each other, the way the larger man had his arm on the other’s back, the way they seemed to unconsciously lean against each other.

“And who are you two?” He muttered, his brain still a bit fuzzy.

“My name is Chirrut. And this big softy is Baze.” The one who wore robes said, and gestured with his hand to the other man, whose frown deepened slightly at his introduction.

“Hi. I’m Luke.”

“You’ve been through so much, young one. The Force feels heavy around you. You faced a horrible creature and paid the price for your mistakes.” Chirrut declared, a bit too loudly, in Luke's opinion.

“Yeah, guess that’s what happens when I don’t listen to Master Yoda.”

“No.” Baze rumbled. “This sort of thing happens when you go into a situation you think you are ready for, but horribly overestimated yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should have listened to Master Yoda. But if I had, Leia and Chewie…”

“There is no changing the past. All one can do is look to the future.” Chirrut smiled. “Besides, I don’t think you’re ready to give up yet. After all, the strongest stars have hearts of kyber.”

“What does that even mean?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” Baze said, smiling very slightly.

“I’m disappointed, Baze. Do you not remember our time in the temple as Guardians?”

“I’m surprised you can remember something that happened so long ago, old man.”

“Such a shame. Baze Malbus was once the most devoted Guardian of us all!”

Luke smiled at them, letting their bickering to wash over him, then allowed the sedative to take hold of him.

~4~

The next time Luke saw a ghost was right before his turn in the plan to get Han back from Jabba's palace on Tattooine. He was at the outer edges of the Dune Sea, doing a bit of moving meditation to settle his nerves and center his focus. As his movements flowed smoother and smoother and he sank deeper into the Force, he could sense the Force coming together next to him in the form of a humanoid. Harsh, wild energy barely contained within, but already one with the Force. He could feel that this ghost was following the movements of his meditation with sharp precision and only a split second behind him.

He was winding down now, moving slower and slower, and finally settled in a kneeling position on the sand.

A beat of silence, then...

"You were trained by Obi-wan Kenobi, weren't you?" This ghost's voice was light, jovial, but his energy was dark, a shadow just out of sight.

"Yes. Him and Master Yoda. How could you tell?"

"I'd know Obi's style anywhere. We grew up together, after all."

Luke's eyes opened and looked across from him at this new ghost. He had dreadlocks that went slightly past his shoulders, a stripe of color across his nose and cheeks, and what looks like only the outside robe of standard Jedi robes? Interesting choice, Luke supposed.

"Obi-wan... I knew him as Old Ben, he lived out in the Jundland Wastes. Uncle Owen... he never trusted him, I guess. But I was always drawn to him, for some reason. Now I know it was because of the Force.” Luke smiled at the man. “You said you knew Ben?”

“Sure did, kid. But I knew him as Obi. We grew up in the Jedi Temple together. He was a cute little thing, always chasing after me and our group of friends. A lot happened to him at the start of his Padawan training, and it influenced him for the rest of his life, and therefore, the fate of the galaxy.” The man shook his head. “He was so full of anger when he was younger, but then he went to Naboo with his Master, that was the turning point for him. We could all feel it. Had the Jedi Order continued, I totally believed that he would have been the youngest Grand Master the galaxy had ever seen.”

“He was a bit distant, and I could tell there was a lot that he didn’t tell me before… he went to face Vader.”

“He was always like that. Never wanted to be a burden on others, so he kept everything close to his chest. He really only confided with Master Yoda. Or during the Clone Wars, he would spend a lot of time with his second in command.”

“A clone?”

“Yes, Commander Cody, highest ranking clone in the entire GAR. They were very close. Dunno what happened to him after the war.”

“May he be with the Force.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause between the two.

“Hey, kid. Be careful, in there. Jabba is a lot smarter than his appearance would indicate.”

“Of course. How could he be the leader of an entire system if he wasn’t?”

“Heh, that’s true. Just don’t underestimate what he would do if he found you out.”

“He won’t.”

~5~

The last time he saw a ghost, or Force ghost, was during his exile on Ahch-To. He had lost track of time many cycles ago. The local population helped him acclimate to basically having nothing. They taught him how to fish, sterilize water, plant edible food, and build a shelter for himself. All of the books that he collected over the years were kept in an isolated part of the island that he rarely went to.

It was peaceful. But there was still a storm in his heart.

Luke stood on one of the higher cliffs on this small island, looking over the endless water. The waves roughly washed up the cliffs and he felt the sprays tickle his feet.

He wasn’t meditating; his head was too much of a mess for that.

Why didn’t he see it sooner? Why didn’t he sense it? If he were a better teacher, would he have been able to stop it?

“Luke, stop that train of thought this instant.”

He jumped and nearly fell from the cliff as a result. He turned around indignantly, ready to tell off whichever ghost had come unannounced to his exile, but paused when all he saw was blue and white lekku.

He slowly looked up to see a scowling and unimpressed face glaring down at him and they stepped back. Now he had a better view of this Force ghost.

A Torgruta, at least a head taller than him, wearing long flowing robes and patches of… stormtrooper armor? No, it was a little too angular for that. Clone trooper armor then. She had many decorative beads draped over her montrals and lekku and her face markings were very sharp and distinct.

“Well it’s true. What would you know of any of this?” He retorted back.

“Oh, you will find I know betrayal very well. After all, thousands of my children betrayed me.”

“…you’re talking about the clone troopers.”

“Indeed. My name is Jedi Master Shaak Ti, and during the war, I was stationed on Kamino, the home plant of the clones. I oversaw thousands of clones’ training, I gave them advice, I comforted them when their brothers were decommissioned. I fought with and for them all. But in the end, it was for naught. They executed almost all Jedi, even the youngest in the crèche and the eldest in the Halls of Healing.” He listened in awe.

“But I do not blame them. It was Palpatine who forced them to do this. Implanted a chip to control them with the right code words. They couldn’t control it, just as you could not control what happened with Ben Solo.”

“But I could have stopped this from happening, if only I had seen it!”

“What if’s and could have’s won’t change the past, Luke. All you can do now is look forward. What could you do in the future, if only you would forgive yourself.”

“I… I can’t go back. How can I face them? Leia, Han, Chewie? Their son Fell to the Dark side, because I wasn’t a good enough teacher.”

“Falling is a choice, Luke. Ben was manipulated by the Dark and Fell because of it. Not because you failed.”

“Heh. Sure, whatever you say.” He turned on his heel and began walking back down the hill to his hut.

He heard her sigh, and then felt her Force energy disperse.

[cant-blink]

Another Dark Story-Concept

Tis a dark spin-off to my Half-Life series that’ll definitely be NSFW if I were to ever write it in full. But knowing myself, there’s no guarantees on that, sooooo....

I write it in a post :D Proceed at your own risk.

Imagine how terrible the implication of Gigan getting Ghidorah modified for his own pleasure actually is.

Imagine the method he chooses to go about doing this. 

He starts by hi-jacking a spaceship, like the pirate he is and takes Ghidorah to his old home planet, the same planet his Masters kidnapped him from. It’s a nostalgia trip for Gigan, returning to a world he hasn’t been a part of for centuries, even millennia. Not much has changed, his fellow space-ducks were still a plentiful apex predator.

He takes Ghidorah on a hunting trip. They’re looking for a very specific target, a female space-duck. Ghidorah’s ability to pinpoint lifeforms comes in handy here, and any creature they find that doesn’t meet the standard is immediately killed.

Eventually, they do come across their target. Gigan sends Ghidorah down as bait, a distraction. His physical appearance, with gleaming gold scales and massive wings, is a show-stopper. How can a space-duck resist?

Their target certainly can’t. It isn’t long before she discards her initial wariness of this newcomer and approaches curiously. She tries to make conversation, Ghidorah doing nothing to respond like the mysterious badass he is, and Gigan takes advantage of her ill-fated interest.

He shoots his first pair of grappling hooks around her neck, and the other around her legs to immobilize her. With her struggling helplessly, she sees Gigan for the first time. The look of disgust on her face, seeing something so close to their own kind, but so... WRONG. It’s like the uncanny valley looking at this cyborg.

Gigan notices this, and feels anger welling up within him, knowing he’s an alien to his own species after being forced from his only-slightly-unnatural Showa form to his completely-unnatural Final Wars form. But he hides this feeling behind a cruel smirk.

“Hopefully, she feels as good as she looks,” he taunts her before ordering Ghidorah to knock her out.

He has testing to do on her, and given how space-duck anatomy is designed to make forceful mating difficult as fuck, it’ll be much easier when she’s relaxed.

Ghidorah complies.

...

So Gigan does this for multiple females, holding them hostage in their ship until he finds the perfect one that he likes the feel of the most. The remainder are then killed, as is the rest of the planet. Gigan takes particular satisfaction in killing his fellow space-ducks, Ghidorah can have the rest. They think him a freak? He’ll show them just how superior he actually is. Their hostage is forced to watch the extermination of her species, of her entire planet, before she is taken with them as they leave the world in ruins.

This hostage is kept in that ship for however long it takes for Gigan to find a race savvy enough to perform the surgery safely on Ghidorah. The female space-duck keeps fighting against her captor, as well as trying to convince Ghidorah to turn on Gigan. Unfortunately, this doesn’t work, as Ghidorah is nothing more than a puppet that long since accepted his fate.

Imagine the terrible things Gigan does to their new hostage on the daily, toying with her and giving false hope of escape only to destroy it. Even if she could get away, he points out, she would have nowhere to go on an alien world. Or worse, escaping the ship could mean dying in the empty void of space. 

“You’re fully organic, babe. You won’t last a second out there.”

The cyborg takes great pleasure in doing everything to break her, and in seeing her attempts to avoid being broken. She makes it clear she would rather be dead than endure another minute of him.

Gigan snickers. How cute.

Eventually, after some researching and tracking work (aka, finding those five-stars on Space-Yelp), they find a race that can perform the surgery, with some ‘persuasion’ from Gigan of course. After all, would be a shame if a dragon were to destroy their entire planet if they said no...

The surgeons learn quickly that Ghidorah requires constant heavy sedation. The same system that ensures toxins are removed from his body also neutralizes anesthesia very quickly. They need powerful stuff and a constant supply of it. Even then, Ghidorah fights this sedation; not only does he NOT want his body tainted for Gigan’s sick pleasures, but he remembers how his creators would keep him under whenever he was not needed. The whole thing is a traumatic experience overall for the dragon. But eventually, he succumbs and the work can begin.

The female space-duck’s reproductive organs are transferred over to Ghidorah, and a proper cloaca is made for him. Gigan waits patiently, totally going through the magazines in the waiting room and harshly judging every page before he’s given the news: the surgery was a success! Recovery period? What’s that? Just take Ghidorah up to space to heal off and recuperate.

Their victim has survived the surgery but has outlived her usefulness, as has the race that performed the surgery. Gigan sends Ghidorah to destroy the planet, and joins in himself. A little celebration to this joyous occasion.

Even if Ghidorah’s destruction is less than enthusiastic. Was he unwell from the transplant? Or just unhappy in general about the whole thing? Meh, Gigan doesn’t care. He’ll get over it.

Now, with the planet in ruins, Gigan turns to the three-headed asshole and tells him to just... relax. It’s time to test his newly customized mate...

[miss-pearlescent]

Universal Differences (3ᵐ/7)

Trapped in a dilapidated spaceship, you kidnap an alien to help you gain your key to freedom: marriage to a safe and trustworthy diplomat.

As a rich and handsome son of billionaires, Kai is bored of his repetitive party life. It isn’t until he’s kidnapped by a little human with a mission that he realizes the fun he’s been missing.

Rated M for smut (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) ♡

[ 1 | 2 | 3ᵐ | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ]

---

[3/7]

Kai forced down a groan as the human shifted in her seat again. “What?” he asked as she looked away, flushed but confused. “Didn’t like it?” He could tell her body did. It had reacted just as he expected. She was a hot-blooded human, but her calculating brain wasn’t going to let things be easy.

“No, it’s not that...” she realized what she had said and shook her head. “Sorry, I meant—”

He stopped her flustered words by raising his leg, causing her to reposition again until she was straddling him. “Kiss me like a human would, then,” he offered. Anything to get her lips on him again. “How you want to be kissed.”

Her hands came on his shoulders and her eyes turned downward. He saw the debate in her head, the uncertainty. A second later, he saw the heat that was there earlier. The same glimmer of intrigue he had seen back at the party, when he had teased her about spending the night together.

In his time with these socialites, he had learned to pick out the real from the fake.

And when she leaned in to kiss him, her lips soft and bouncy and unsure, he knew she was being genuine. She showed him how she like to be kissed: little pecks here, little nips there. It was nothing like what he had done to her earlier, and he knew she would never survive in her future husband’s bed if she chose to marry outside of Earth.

Her little moan made his cock twitch, but he kept it down, telling it to wait its turn. His tongue still wanted some more playtime before his little human got away.

As if she had heard his thoughts, her warm tongue darted out, tickling the edge of his lips. He smiled at her shy request and gently let her in.

That seemed to do the trick as she melted against him, her fists wrinkling the collar of his fine suit. He had learned her style—slow and gentle. He tucked it away in the back of his head, hoping he could last long enough to give her what she wanted.

Because she sure as hell was not going to get this kind of sex anywhere else in Space.

He growled at the thought of her underneath another man, and she quickly pulled away. Opening his eyes, he saw the hurt flash in her gaze, her lips swollen and trembling from the kiss. Before she could hide away, he urged his cock forward and took a swipe between her legs.

She shot up, her breasts arching toward his face, and he saw that her nipples were hard peaks behind her red jumpsuit. It made his mouth water.

“What was that?” she asked, fixing the blankets around her shoulders.

“It’s me.” He gave a satisfied grin and stroked her with his cock again, loving the way she bit down on her lip to keep from making a sound. “Can humans do that?”

“You have active range of motion in your dick?” Her voice was breathy. She was clearly fascinated and turned on at the same time. “No, humans can’t do that,” she said with a gulp.

He set his cock straight, running it back and forth along her slit. There was no use in hiding it anymore. “Unzip, and I’ll show you what else we can do.”

“I...” She put a hand to the big industrial zipper at her neck but stopped.

“I can’t touch you, human,” he reminded her gently. “You have the control here.”

She seemed to keep forgetting that point, because she apologized again. “Should I untie you?”

He almost wanted to laugh. Untie him and what? Stop where they were going? He shook his head, teasing her slit again to bring her back on track.

She sucked in a breath as she looked down, seeing the prominent tent in his pants as it moved on its own between his legs. Without taking her gaze off of his waist, she began pulling down the zipper that ran from her collar to her hips.

Kai swore under his breath as he saw her flesh. He clenched his hands together, telling his body to stay still even as she peeled the jumpsuit off her arms.

When the human species had diverged, Kai’s people had changed genetically. They were stronger, faster, harder. His body was all muscle and bone, despite the lack of strenuous work he did. Women were much the same: tall, lean, powerful.

But this little human...She was lush. His mouth went dry when he saw her breasts, because all he wanted to do was suck on those round orbs that dropped down to dusky nipples, peaked from the cold. He was surprised by the way her hips curved, dimpling here and there. He found his hands twitching, wanting to touch everything. Learn her body.

Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and he wanted to lick them until they went away. He wanted her warm and tucked underneath him, shaking not from the cold but from a hot release. “Is this...new to you?” she asked, her voice unsure as she crossed her arms over her breasts.

Kai collected himself, meeting her gaze. “No,” he lied straight out of his ass. Humans were rarely found on New Home, and they were basically banned on the other planets. There were only rumours here and there of how wild and savage they were in bed.

If only Kai’s people knew how soft humans actually were.

“Then,” she cleared her throat, clasping her hands together, “may I see yours?”

Kai almost spilled in his pants at the way she fluttered her eyelashes, as if she was simply asking for an extra serving of dinner.

Oh, he was going to fill her up all right.

He grunted and gave a quick nod, adjusting in his seat so she could reach between them and unclasp the auto-pins to his trousers.

In a tortuously slow motion, she let him out, his cock standing up like a untamed beast.

She gave an audible gulp when she saw him, and he was quite satisfied with himself as she took a second to stare. “Like what you see?” he asked, his pride puffing up.

“What is that?”

Kai stiffened, dumbstruck.

She seemed to notice because she covered her mouth and quickly apologized. “What I meant to say was, humans don’t have that extra appendage above their penises. I’ve never seen it before.”

Ah, she was talking about his sucker.

“That’s my sucker.”

“Sucker?”

He racked his brain for the scientific name. “I can’t remember what it’s actually supposed to be called, but everyone I know calls it a sucker.”

“What does it do?”

Glad she asked. “Do you have a clitoris?”

She nodded, though he noticed her face got ten times more red.

“Then get on top of me and enjoy.”

Her eyes widened but he knew she understood what he meant.

She raised her hips, and Kai raised his cock to match her. “Are you wet enough?” he asked, just in case. His little human was...well, little.

“I-I think so.”

They hadn’t done much in the foreplay department—much to Kai’s chagrin—but there was nothing a sucker couldn’t help with.

“Oh my...” Her words trailed off as she lowered her hips, sinking down on his rigid length, her silken lips spreading wider with every slow inch.

“Stars,” Kai gritted out through his teeth at the same time. He watched as his cock penetrated her, settling into her warm, wet flesh. It was as hot as her mouth, and he wished he had the chance to explore this part of her body with his tongue too. Scratch that, he wanted to explore all of her with his tongue. “Are you ready?” he choked out. Her walls had a vice grip around him and he didn’t know how long he was going to last.

Her lashes flitted, her gaze dazed. “Hmm?” It seemed that the only thing on her mind was his cock inside her.

Good. Kai wanted to keep it that way. He savoured the loopy smile on her face that grew with every tremor of her body. Her nails dug into the shoulder pads of his suit and he enjoyed it. He wanted this moment permanently stamped in his memories.

He, ever so patient, waited until she was fully seated. “Hold on tight,” he muttered before turned his sucker upward. Like a champ, it had found her clit, pink and swollen and waiting for him.

He locked on it and began sucking.

His little human shrieked. The blanket fell away as she bucked her hips wildly, the slick walls of her pussy clamping down on him as she writhed. He growled, matching her movements with effort, not letting her get away from the one thing that would give her the pleasure she had asked her.

“Kai, how—Ah!” she squeezed her eyes shut as he continued the negative pressure, tormenting her poor clit. Her breasts bounced in front of him, teasing him. All he wanted was a taste, a little lick. But she want still too far back.

There was a rumour that humans had a small patch of ultra sensitive flesh within their body that was connected to the clitoris. Kai wanted to aim for it. He decided, as a special treat, to curve his cock.

She cried out as her hips rolled back and forth, letting his shaft hit her most sensitive spot. Her back arched and Kai took that opportunity to lean down, craning his neck so he could suck on one precious nipple.

A moment later, his lap was drenched in her juice.

A thought raced through his mind: that nobody else could make her come apart like this. Shaking, gasping, dripping. Nobody else was allowed to touch her like this.

Mine.

The force of the word brought him to right to the edge. He groaned, pumping into her warmth with every ounce of strength in his body. Two more thrusts and—

“Thermal engine restart initiated. Ideal temperature: twenty-two degrees centigrade.”

A snap rang through the air and suddenly Kai had his hands on his little human. He stood, letting the blankets fall the to floor before laying her gently on her dismal airbed. She stared up at him in shock as he gently brushed away a lock of her hair.

“This whole time, you could have left,” she said, her breathy voice coming out unbearably sad and shakey, as if this was somehow a failure on her part.

He didn’t like that. He leaned in, kissing her softly on her lips the way she liked it. “I wanted to stay. i wanted to see what a little human like you had planned.” His cock twitched inside her, reminding him of other business. “If you want to stop,” he forced his throat to work, “tell me.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. She was always debating with herself, wasn’t she?

He smiled. “I won’t be hurt if you do.” He knew he was lying to himself. He wanted to finish this. His body was revved up and he was ready to spend all night pleasuring this little human. But he was learning that she didn’t have the heart to harm a tiny crawler, let alone his feelings. She was unbearably soft and warm, too innocent to be out here alone, and she had never even experienced a sucker before.

On that thought, he disengaged his sucker to give her a breather.

“No, wait!” Her legs came to wrap around his waist. “We can continue. I want to learn how...different we are.”

Kai met her eyes, saw the excited determination in them. She wanted this as much as he did.

His body fired up once again.

---

I promise smut is not the only thing I write. I promiSE!!!!!!!

But it sure is fun :)

Thank you guys for reading! This chapter came out a little later than I had intended but my mood+schedule have been WHACK sooooooo

But also, I’ve been reading a couple of new releases! Nobody asked for book recommendations but here I go!

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey is book #2 in her series about...idk what LOL I read the first book and it was really cute but omg this second book....omg I THOUGHT I WAS ACCUSTOMED TO DIRTY TALK BUT HOLY SHIT THE DIRTY (DOM-HEAVY wink wink) TALK IN HERE IS.....wow. I’m not even finished the book but I have to recommend it already LOL it’s about a married couple who have been together since they were young, but they’ve grown apart in the last five years after the guy came back from the military. Plot aside, I love the character dynamic between the couple because the guy is named DOMINIC and he’s so DOM but also soft and loves his wife so much that his heart hurts when she’s sad and he’ll do anything to get his wife back waaaaaaaaaah

Did I mention DOMinic is a freaking DOM with DOMINANT dirty talk?

And and and his wife is named ROSIE. ROSIE. AND SHE’S THE CUTEST QUIET THING EVER WHO JUST WANTS TO COOK (see: open a restaurant) AND MAKE EMPANADAS FOR HER HUSBAND.

I’m cry, bro.

Anyway, I also just finished The Lord I Left by Scarlett Peckham. A romance between a priest and prostitute (google hierophilia). Honestly? HONESTLY? I had to skim a lot of the book because the religious talk went straight over my head. I have no idea what the difference is between a reverend, a clergy, a priest, a bishop, etc etc is LOOOL But the romance was kinda cute ;_; Lemme see how many tropes we got: Virgin Hero, Only One Bed, Stuck in a Storm, Cold Bed w No Blankets, Enemies to Lovers, Grump vs Sunshine.... hehehe TBH i would recommend her other two books in the series but this one was good too.

If you really want to dive straight into hierophilia, Priest by Sierra Simone is wild. I read it in 2015 and don’t remember much, but just enough that I know it was kinda wild LOLL

ok that’s all for now :) see you guys next time!

[letterboxd]

The Package.

As the bonkers genre thrill-ride Shadow in the Cloud blasts into the new year, writer and director Roseanne Liang unpacks her love of Terminator 2, watching Chloë Grace Moretz’s face for hours, and the life lesson she learned from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s Cheng Pei-Pei.

Roseanne Liang’s TIFF Midnight Madness winner Shadow in the Cloud landed with a blast of fresh genre energy on VOD platforms on New Year’s Day. It’s A-class action in a B-grade body, cramming plenty into its taut 83 minutes, including: a top-secret package, a freakish gremlin, a hostile bunch of Air Force dudes, outrageous stunts, dogfights and a fake wartime PSA that feels remarkably real.

Throughout, the camera is focused mostly on one face—Chloë Grace Moretz’s, playing British flight officer Maude Garrett—as she tackles all of the above from a claustrophobic ball turret hanging under a B-17 Flying Fortress, on a classified mission over the Pacific Ocean during World War II.

While the film’s tonal swings are confusing to some, schlock enthusiasts and genre lovers on Letterboxd have embraced the film’s intentionally outlandish sensibility, which “makes excellent use of its genre mash to create an unpredictable, guilty pleasure,” says Mirza. Fajar writes that “it felt like the people involved in this project knew how ridiculous it is and gave a hundred and ten percent to make it work. Someday, it will become a cult classic.” Mawbey agrees: “It really goes off the rails in all the best ways during the final third, and the last couple of shots are just perfect.”

Chloë Grace Moretz and her top-secret package in ‘Shadow in the Cloud’.

To most of the world, Liang is a so-called “emerging” director, when in fact, the mother-of-two, born in New Zealand to Chinese parents, has been at this game for the past two decades. She has helmed a documentary and a romantic drama, both based on her own marriage; a 2008 short called Take 3, which preceded Hollywood’s current conversation about representation and harassment; and Do No Harm, the splatter-tastic 2017 short in which her technical chops and fluid feel for action were on full display, and, as recorded in multiple Letterboxd reviews, established her as one to watch.

Do No Harm scored Liang valuable Hollywood representation, whereupon producer Brian Kavanaugh-Jones brought Shadow in the Cloud to her, thinking she might connect with the material. “It did connect with me on a level that is very personal,” Liang tells me. “As a woman of color, as a mother who juggles a lot.” She says Kavanaugh-Jones then went through the process of removing original writer Max Landis from the project. “He felt that Max was not a good fit for this project, or for how we like to run things. We like to be respectful and courteous and kind to each other…”

In several interviews, Liang has said she’s comfortable with film lovers choosing not to watch Shadow in the Cloud based on Landis’s early involvement. What she’s not comfortable with is her own contribution—and that of her cast and crew—being erased. While WGA rules have his name attached firmly to the project, the credit belies the reality: his thin script, reportedly stretched out to 70 pages by using a larger-than-usual font, was expanded and deepened by Liang and her collaborators.

Writer-director Roseanne Liang. / Photo by Dean O’Gorman

That team includes editor Tom Eagles, Oscar nominated for Jojo Rabbit, actor Nick Robinson (the titular Simon in Love, Simon) and Beulah Koale, a star of the Hawaii Five-Oh series. The opening newsreel was created by award-winning New Zealand animation studio Mukpuddy, after a small test audience got weirded out by the sight of a gremlin in a war film, despite well-documented WWI and WWII gremlin mythology. It’s an unnecessary but happy addition. The cartoon style was inspired by Private Snafu, a series of WWII educational cartoons scripted by none other than Dr. Seuss and directed by Looney Tunes legend Chuck Jones.

But the film ultimately hangs on Chloë Grace Moretz, who overcame cabin fever to drive home an adrenaline rush of screen craft, in which the very limits of what’s humanly possible in mid-air are tested (in ways, it must be said, that wouldn’t be questioned if it were Tom Cruise in the role). Liang would often send directions to Moretz’s ball turret via text, while her cast members delivered live dialogue from an off-set shipping container rigged with microphones. “I just never got sick of Chloë’s face and I’ve watched her hundreds, if not thousands of times. You feel her, you are her, she just engages you in a way that a huge fighting scene might not, if it’s not designed well. Giant empty spectacle is less interesting than one person in one spot, sometimes.”

Ambitious and nerdy about film in equal measure, it’s clear there’s much more to come from Liang, and I’m interested in what her most valuable lesson has been so far. Turns out, it’s a great story involving Chinese veteran Cheng Pei-Pei (Come Drink With Me’s Golden Swallow, and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s Jade Fox), whose film training includes a tradition of remaining on set throughout filming.

Roseanne Liang on the set of ‘Shadow in the Cloud’.

That meant that, during filming of Liang’s My Wedding and Other Secrets, Cheng would stay on set when she wasn’t required. “In New Zealand, trailers are a luxury,” Liang explains. “I said ‘Don’t you want to go to the trailer that we arranged for you?’ ‘No, I just want to sit and watch.’ ‘Why do you want to watch it, you’ve seen it hundreds of times!’ And she said ‘I learn something new every time’. To Pei-Pei, the secret of life is constant education and curiosity and learning. Movies are her work and her craft and her life, and she never gets bored. If I can be like her, that’s the life, right?”

Speaking of which, it’s time we put Liang through our Life in Film interrogation.

What’s the film that made you want to become a filmmaker? Terminator 2: Judgment Day is the movie that is at the top of the mountain that I’m climbing. To me it’s the perfect blend of spectacle, action design, smarts and heart. It poses the theory that if a robot can learn the value of humanity then maybe there’s hope for the ships that are us. That’s perennial, and possibly even more pertinent today. It holds a very special place in my heart, along with Aliens, Mad Max: Fury Road, Die Hard, La Femme Nikita and Léon: The Professional.

What’s your earliest memory of watching a film? I have a cassette tape that my dad made for my grandma in 1981 (he’d send tapes back to his mother in Hong Kong). I was three years old and he had just taken us to see The Empire Strikes Back in the cinema. And he can’t talk to my grandma because I’m just going on and on about R2-D2. I will not shut up about R2-D2 and he’s like, “Yes, yes I’m trying to talk to your grandmother,” and I’m like, “But Dad! Dad! R2-D2!” So it’s actually an archive, but it’s become my memory.

What’s the most romantic film you’ve ever seen? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s not the sexiest, but it’s the most romantic. That last scene, those last words where she goes “But you’re gonna be like this forever and I’m gonna be like this forever…” and he just goes “okay”. That to me is one of the most romantic scenes I’ve ever seen. It is a perfect movie.

And the scariest? If it’s a horror movie, the most scared I’ve been is The Ring. I was watching it on a VHS and I was lying on a beanbag on the floor and I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t move, because I felt that if I moved she’d see me! Also, American Psycho just came to me this year. I caught the twentieth anniversary of that movie, which is a terrifying film, and again, possibly more relevant now than when it was made. The scariest film that’s not a horror is Joker. It scared me how much I liked it. When I came out of the movie, I was like, “I’m scared because I kind of love it, but it’s horrible. It’s so irresponsible. I don’t wanna like this movie but goddamn, I feel it.” Like, I wanted to go on the streets and rage. In a way we’re all the Joker, we’re all the Batman. That duality, that yin and yang, is inside everyone of us. It’s universal.

What is the film that slays you every time, leaving you in a heap of tears? This is a classic one, the opening sequence of Up. The first ten minutes of Up just destroy me every time. I also saw Soul a couple of days ago and I was with the whole family and I, just, if I wasn’t with the whole family I would have been ugly-sobbing. I had a real ache in my throat after the movie because I was trying to stop [myself] from sobbing.

Tell me your favorite coming-of-age film, the film that first gave you ‘teenage feelings’? Pump Up the Volume. Christian Slater! Off the back of Pump Up the Volume, I fancied myself as a prophet and wrote a theater piece called Lemmings. Obviously the main character was a person who could see through the façade, and everyone else was following norms. “No one understands me, I’m a prophet!” So clearly I have this shitty, Joker-style megalomaniac inside of me. It was the worst play, and I don’t know why my teachers agreed for us to do a staging of it!

Christian Slater and Samantha Mathis in ‘Pump Up the Volume’ (1990).

Is there a film that you and your family love to rewatch? We’ve tried to impose our taste on our children, but they’re too young. We showed them The Princess Bride—they didn’t get it. We literally showed our babies Star Wars in their cribs. That’s how obsessive Star Wars fans we were.

Name a director and/or writer that you deeply admire for their use of the artform. I have a slightly weird answer for this. Can I just give love to Every Frame a Painting by Tony Zhou and Taylor Ramos? They are my film school. I was thinking of my love of Edgar Wright, but then I thought of their video essay on Edgar Wright and how to film comedy, and his essay on Jackie Chan and the rhythm of action and then their essay on the Coen Brothers and Shot Reverse Shot. I must have watched that 30 times ahead of the TV show that I’m making now. I started out in editorial and Tony Zhou is an editor and he talks about when to make the cut: it’s an instinct, it’s a feeling, it’s a rhythm. I realized the one thing in common that I could mention about all the films I’ve loved is Every Frame a Painting. It’s their love of movies that comes bubbling out of every single essay that they made that I just wanna shout out at this part of my career.

Were there any crucial films that you turned to in your development for Shadow in the Cloud? Indiana Jones was something that Chloë brought up—she likes the spiffiness and the humor of Indiana Jones. Sarah Connor was our touchstone for the female character. For one-person-in-one-space type stories, I watched Locke quite a lot, to figure out how they shaped tension and story and [kept] us on the edge of our seats when it’s only one person in one space. In terms of superheroes, I came back to Aliens. Not Alien. Aliens. You know, there are two types of people in this world—people who prefer Alien over Aliens, and people who prefer Aliens over Alien. But actually I think I vacillate for different reasons.

Can there be a third type of person, who thinks they’re both great, but Alien³, just, no? Maybe that’s the best group to be in. We don’t need to fight about this, we can love both of them! I was having an argument with James Wan’s company about this, because there’s a rift inside the company of people who prefer Alien over Aliens.

Okay, program a triple feature with your film as one of the three. I don’t know. Ask Ant Timpson!

I’ll ask Ant Timpson. [We did, and he replied: “Well, one has to be the Twilight Zone episode with William Shatner: Nightmare at 20,000 Feet. And then either Life (2017) or Altitude (2010).”]

Thank you Ant! I used to go to his all-nighters as a university student. He is the king of programming things.

Jake Gyllenhaal in ‘Life’ (2017).

It’s strange that we never met at one of his events! Ant would make me dress up in strange outfits and do weird skits between films. (For those who don’t know, Timpson ran the Incredibly Strange Film Festival for many years—now part of the New Zealand International Film Festival—and still runs an annual 24-Hour Movie Marathon.) So what’s a film from those events that sticks in your head as the perfect genre experience with a crowd? It was a movie about a man protecting a woman who was the girlfriend of a mafia boss: A Bittersweet Life. Not only does it have one of the sexiest Korean actors, sorry, not to objectify, but also I actually screenshot a lot of that film for pitch documents. And, do you remember a crazy Japanese movie where someone’s sitting on the floor with a clear umbrella and a woman is lactating milk? Visitor Q by Takashi Miike. I remember just how fucking crazy that was.

Finally, what was the best film you saw in 2020? I haven’t seen Nomadland yet, so keep in mind that I haven’t seen all the films this year. I have three: The Invisible Man, which I thought was just amazing. I thought [writer-director] Leigh Whannell did such a great job. The Half of It by Alice Wu, a quiet movie that I simply just adored. And then the last movie I saw at the cinema was Promising Young Woman. The hype is real.

Related content

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Follow Gemma on Letterboxd

‘Shadow in the Cloud’ is available in select theaters and on video on demand now.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-03-12

I have been told only a few things about the upd8 that just landed, over Discord by two people:

upd19 feat. 4,901,157 read it. now. note: the featuring note is accurate if in a different base than what you might be expecting

What the fuck does that even mean.

Okay Pretty good chapter.

...from another friend who VERY dislikes HS^2?  Oh shit.

I also glimpsed a post that may or may not have been about Homestuck at all at the top of my Tumblr feed for an instant that said “YES YES YES YES YES” in huge bold print.  I have no idea whether to be excited or nervous.

Okay, it’s not a Bonus update... let me comb through from an earlier page to be careful not to get a spoilerlook at the pagecount...

...huh.  That seems... like a conversation that would be up my alley, but not necessarily unique so far or worth all this crowing about.  I thought we were about to get Dirk-aliens with a full Horschestra backing... are we getting something else?

> CHAPTER 6. A Conversation Regarding Relevance

Hmmmmmmmm.  With the contrast between their reactions and this ominous buildup, there’s got to be a serious fun-twist coming.  Right?  --I’ll stop with that talk for the moment though.

space is vast. an unproductive statement, almost a tautology. [...]

Alright, that and the starry background are riffing the fuck off Star Trek.  Nice homage to Andrew’s roots.

the lives of the many are far too volatile and instinct-driven

Alt!Callie what the fuck are you doing.  This is intentional now.  You can’t play this off as “what’s a Star Trek”.

tautologies are, in general, reserved for stories. for narrative device. for finding new and inventive ways to tell an audience that which they already know.

God damnit she’s still doing it

neither of us ever able to convince the other of the righteousness of our stance. we were never meant to agree. it isn’t in our blood.

Blah blah overanalyzing classpect blah

when they scoff at my tautology ‘space is vast’, what do they really know? nothing. as far as any of them have experienced, space does not exist.

It’s still nice to see some real personality leak through on Alt!Callie.  We definitely know from her other self that she can develop quite a relatable and colorful one.  Have the years helped?

> ==>

dramantic pouse... ........

Also,

-look at that collar.  Damn, Callie, that is a collar

very few have stood and looked into the abyss, the true gulf of nothingness that spreads out around the single point of consciousness adrift in a constellation. all the combined weight of sentient endeavour would quail underneath that sheer, irresistible truth. the realization that they are so small, that the universe cares about their puny lives so very little. sitting in the glowing light of the stars this becomes even more apparent

In the official aspect quiz I never took the time to analyze, the aspects were put on a wheel where Space was a neighbor to Void, if I recall correctly.  I wonder how much those aspects engender feelings of goddamnit I’m doing it again aren’t I

...

are we out of orange juice?

Yesss let more personality Alt!Callie bleed through, more of it~

Wait, does Alt!Callie even taste through Jade?  Isn’t this remote control?  Is she vicariously drawing pleasure from Jade’s not-just-meat-or-candy mostly-human taste buds or?

> ==>

JADE: are you talking to me? JADE: because if you are i would like to remind you that i hate!! orange juice!!

OH FUCK YES!!! SHE’S IN THERE AND AWAKE!!! SHE STILL HAS AT LEAST ENOUGH AGENCY TO BE PRESENT AND ARGUE WITH CALLIE! YESSSSSS

no you don’t.

JADE: well i guess i never really had a strong opinion on it before JADE: but now i cant stand it!! JADE: its all you drink!

i like the pulp.

QUIT INADVERTANTLY FORCING SHIT ON JADE WITH NARRATIVESPEAK GIVE HER A BIT OF LEEWAY ALT!CALLIE YOU CONTROLLING--

JADE: its my body and i dont want orange juice! JADE: i hate pulp, and i didnt just make that up to spite you JADE: who wants strings in their juice?

i do.

JADE: ughhhhhhhhh

I have had friends hopefully fantasize about and/or therapeutically roleplay this exact situation with Jade breaking through and arguing with Alt!Callie’s control to make this all a fair bit more palatable but I didn’t dare to hope we’d get even THIS much

Maybe the HS^2 authors DO care about not leaving us wallowing in hopeless witness to the characters’ constant torture and existential turbosuffering!!!! :#D

i realize that jade’s situation is less than ideal from a characterization perspective, but i still politely point out that nobody likes a whiner.

Fuck you, this isn’t CALIBORN you’re trying to repress you asshole!  Leave Jade some AGENCY!!!!!  She deserves it!!

JADE: fuck you rude calliope inside my head!

YES EXACTLY

JADE: why dont you try being possessed by the spirit of some other version of a good friend of yours, and floated around a spaceship full of people you love JADE: unable to affect anything or say hello to anyone! JADE: then tell me about whiners!

i killed my brother and consumed him.

JADE: sounds like a you problem

Compromise and give her some agency finally come on compromise and give her some agency you red-text twatwaffle

i suggest to the witch that i have spent untold eons in the void between universes, waiting for the moment i would be needed to prevent the dissipation of reality as we know it. her appeals to emotion will not help her. i will remain unmoved.

Oh god damnit.

JADE: well i had to watch my boyfriend and my brother die in front of me on a tiny scaled version of a world that i shrunk for them! JADE: and then spend the next three years talking to myself, wracked with guilt that id killed them!

Oh. God. Damnit.  This had better not be where the Suicide trigger warning was coming from.  Are there going to be any characters left who DIDN’T emerge from this mess feeling suicidal?!?  (I mean if there were any understandable case it would be three years alone on the golden ship Jade but-- I mean COME ON, we have to discuss that in our FIRST GLIMPSE at her since the epilogues?!?)

> ==>

i remind the witch that my time was in the void, which is far darker and lonelier [...]

Oh fuck you don’t compare suffering as an excuse to COMPLETELY body-enslave and squash the agency of someone when you probably don’t have to.  You’re just doing what’s COMFORTABLE alt!Callie admit it.  There’s a way you could give her some leeway, I’m almost positive.

JADE: even if i had the powers of a first guardian, my brain still worked in modules of human pattern recognition! JADE: three years is a long time for a human teenager, i dont care how many of her molecules are made of a god!

(i love it when jade talks smart, that bit of the epilogues was a treat too, plz reveal more of the big brain on jade)

It seems Jade can’t see or quite understand the full import of there being a “narrative”.  Or THINKS she cant, because she still says:

JADE: your voice is impossible to read and i cant see your face

If she’s “reading” alt!Callie’s remarks, that means she’s breaking through to understand the narrative to SOME extent.  She might be one of the ones who learns to do that a little more and better in the future, especially with alt!Callie almost unintentionally training her to see it.

> ==>

Oh, good.  So A!C’s not above being considerate.  That’s a step in the right direction.

> ==>

D’aww, Jade conceding and trying to empathize like her usual self.  I appreciate it.  :)  --but Alt!Callie’s definitely in the wrong here.

JADE: but i think it is a very natural thing to be silly when you are used to being able to control your own body, but now cant

i will allow that, yes.

Thanks.  Learn some damned reason.

jade smiles. dave and karkat will always be a source of pain for her, a low ache somewhere in her center of gravity, but she is happy for them. she knows that there is really no other alternative for how to be. they chose each other over her, and they always will. they are the two people who matter to her the most in every universe, and that will not change, no matter how much she wishes it would, no matter how--

JADE: do you actually know that?

pardon me?

Oh, shit.

JADE: do you actually know that im doomed to pine over dave and karkat across every iteration of reality? JADE: like, can you actually see that? JADE: because youre a space player, like i am. JADE: i know that you are more powerful than me, but i dont think you can see other timelines any better than i can JADE: so i think you are just being dramatic JADE: for the “audience”, whatever the heck that means

i experience a moment of unease as jade looks at me. keeping her out of my thoughts is proving to be more difficult than i had first assumed it would be.

That’s a damned interesting question.  I was giving the narrative the benefit of the doubt, but given everything the Epilogues warned us about when it came to the narrators and alt!Callie’s occasional slips into her own bias, I really should have known better.

i had begun confident that i could keep her consciousness sleeping peacefully inside the shell of her body, tamed and quiescent, but she has proved to be more irascible than i initially gave her credit for.

JADE: heheh JADE: i have never been particularly tamable, and my consciousness is huge!

This might end up playing out more like my friend’s Jade-breaks-out roleplays than I initially assumed.  (What does she mean “huge consciousness” though?  Superpowered due to part-First-Guardian, like she alluded earlier in the conversation?  That never got much play before, so it’s great to see that potential realized here a bit...)

> ==>

...I’m a fucking idiot.  Of COURSE “huge consciousness” and the whole line around it was just an unsubtle double-entendre.  A small part of me actually wondered if it was and dismissed it as a clumsy reading in an instant.  How stupid am I?  Jade is the best.

If only this sort of thing worked on Cherubs.

> ==>

Yeah.  It really doesn’t.

...Alt!Callie, you are a fucking war-criminal for bottling all these double-entendres up where none of the others can appreciate them.

> ==>

JADE: you are a pretty tough crowd, evil callie JADE: but yes, i can hear most of what you are thinking to yourself JADE: it took a little while to separate it from my own thoughts, just like it did with dirk JADE: because thats what he was doing the whole time, wasnt it? JADE: controlling our thoughts JADE: making us believe things we never would, things he thought we SHOULD believe

Fucking excellent.  She’s definitely training herself on this shit.  The more people who have a harder time getting fooled by this nonsense the better.

jade knows all of this, i don’t have to tell her. she is a very bright girl, and even if she didn’t have partial access to my thoughts, she is good at compiling data and using it to fill in gaps. as she herself had rather licentiously mentioned, her brain is quite large.

C:

and all of these reasons are why i know i can count on her to be reasonable and realistic about her situation. i need a body to continue interfacing with this timeline, and her body is the only one that will do.

Dammit.  Trying to get her to logic her way back into keeping Alt!Callie in complete control.  That’s a tactic that will probably work.  :(

what about [kanaya], jade? she is a space player, it is true, but her powers are nothing compared to yours. for one, she isn’t god tier, and for two, she is dead. a living dead, but dead nonetheless.

Hm.  Are you saying she maybe has less relevance, less of an effect on her surroundings because she spent some of her “cred” on unconventional partial resurrection?  To the extent where she’d make a less influential vessel?  Hmm.

For that to even matter, you have to be planning to use Jade’s Space powers too.  Taking a far more active role in things than narrative beacon.

and a sylph’s specializations lie on a different end of the spectrum from my own. a witch is a far closer match.

!!!!!

Sounds like details of the classpect system that we don’t know will have relevance in HS^2, and we’re indeed gonna possibly get some actual new, clearer details about the system Andrew invented unlike the dearth of new info the Epilogues brought us.  That is... promising.

no, jade understands and sympathizes with my assurance that her body, and her body alone, will do for my purposes.

JADE: um...no i dont!

YES.  Jade is now officially immune to absolute command! :D :D :D

she does. after all, she would not wish this sort of state of being on anyone else, and especially not on one of her friends. jade may have undergone a lopsided number of narrative hardships in her life, but at least she is used to them. why spread that suffering to another?

What the fucking shit???  You’re using that on her?  You think it’ll WORK?!

jade understands and accepts her place in the story, which has always been to enable events to play out around her, just as it has been mine.

..........yeah Jade’s gonna bust the fuck out on the very next page, isn’t she.

What the fuck is Alt!Callie thinking, here?  Wasn’t the other Calliope the one to let us know that the Witch is one of the most active classes there is??  ...what exactly does a Witch officially do anyway, for Alt!Callie to think saying such a thing wasn’t dead wrong?  This sounds MUCH more like the sort of statement someone might make after breezing through Homestuck and confusing the old Jade (cough) for the person she grew up into.

And the fact that you’re phrasing this as a narrative command to try and make her forcibly THINK this way deserves you a smack in the non-literal depictive face.  Let’s see if you get one:

> ==>

Oh wow, no smack yet?!  That’s some restraint!

because what is a story, truly? nothing but a series of misadventures and connections, actions spurring reactions, tumbling into one another, over and over and over. with so many competing interests, clearly the story cannot account for all perspectives, for all threads? it would be laughable, childish, even selfish, to demand that they do.

in other words, not everyone will achieve a happy ending. this is a truth that jade had come to grips with a long time ago.

JADE: wait. JADE: stop. JADE: why are you saying all of this?

Ohh.  Because she still had even MORE smackworthy stuff left to say, to make the smack even SMACKIER, didn’t she.  Alt!Callie you asshole.  If this gets you kicked out of her almost entirely and jeopardizes the crew as Jade struggles to combat Dirk’s narrative influence on her OWN, then I’m fucking blaming YOU!  Do you realize how horrible it’ll be if Dirk gets to almost singlehandedly write the whole story around her and the others for the first section of HS^2 with only one or two characters aware and trying to mentally avert it??  We already TRIED that in the Epilogues!  It was awful!

jade’s body is my vessel, and it is through this realization that she will understand her true role in the story. her true relevance.

Go fuck yourself, Alt!Callie.  Read the audience a bit!

if i released my hold on her consciousness, there would be no guarantee that i would be allowed in again. therefore i cannot permit her the control of herself that she so desperately craves, and she understands that.

THAT’S your reasoning your used-to-surpressing-Caliborn ignorant--!??

JADE: wait. so...you could give me my body back, and then just hop back in when you need to?

in theory, yes.

JADE: then what the hell callie!

because i don’t trust you to cooperate when the time comes.

MotherfuckerTheMusical.mp4

(or real existing equivalent that’s just off the top of my head)

JADE: why not? JADE: i thought you said i was a reasonable girl with a huge brain!

you are, to an extent.

she is. but the truth of the matter remains that humans are capricious and emotional. and even jade herself can admit that she hasn’t been the most...committed example of her species in the last few years.

Oh my fucking god.  I know they’re trying to make this more satisfying when she actually DOES take control in a few panels, but, Alt!Callie, seriously, get more on your other self’s level!!!

> ==>

Yes, please >:O some more

moving from lover to lover, job to job, interest to interest. over the last few years jade had found herself listless, unable to settle and unwilling to commit to anything or anyone. she knows there’s nothing wrong with that on a moral level, but on a personal level she’s always believed that she could be more, could do better. be better. and now, because of this, she realizes that sacrifices must be made.

and that she, as a space player, is uniquely built for sacrifice.

JADE: yeah JADE: i guess youre right JADE: i have been such a silly little slut! JADE: hey callie

yes, jade?

JADE: oh my god, whats that!!!!

You are so fucking screwed Alt!Callie.

this space is utterly under my control. jade could control it too, if she had any access to her own powers. but with my grip around her cortex, there is no chance of that.

(Wait, there’s an extent to which this space is “real” and not imaginary?  Or does holding her space powers in check also mean keeping her imaginary space powers in check?)

Anyway, here comes the smack.  And, though Alt!Callie deserves this, I hope Dirk isn’t let in too often amidst the others as a result.

> ==>

Yup, poising to pounce...

> ==>

I thought there was a weird infinity symbol underneath them but it’s just two spotlights and a shadow cast by her head.

and here i make my first mistake.

No you made your first mistakes WAAAY earlier in this conversation.  And what you did to Jade in general.  She’s a hero/player for a reason, she doesn’t take stuff lying down forever.

but bringing her into a place where we can both physically manifest has left me, foolishly, vulnerable.

First, physically manifest?  This isn’t pure imaginationspace?  And second, she’s going to blame her polite concession to Jade for this and hold on even tighter the next time, isn’t she.  God damnit, not looking forward to that.  Alt!Callie won’t learn her lesson til the end, will she?  :(

her fingers tear at my throat, trying to find purchase. she won’t be able to kill me here, but it is certainly unpleasant, and not to mention slightly repetitive. we just saw this in the previous chapter, although this particular fight will not end as amorously as the last one did. so don’t get your hopes up.

JADE: who! JADE: are you talking to!

I really hope Jade ends up with full narrative powerOOOOOHHHH FUCK THEY COULD GO FOR THAT HUH

Dirk was able to become an Ultimate Self in his own body because it was the uniting of an irrepressible “self” that he always unbreakably represented.  The others had more trouble.

But Jade

has a BIG PART-GOD BRAIN as reinforced in the narrative repeatedly!!

Meaning that later, SHE could Ultimate Self without ANY PHYSICAL CONSEQUENCE.  :D

I was hoping Jade would end up with full narrative-dictating-and-reading power when she wants to use it, at some point, but I might’ve been aiming too low! :D :D :D

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay

Now all the playfully-horny omnipotent Jade fanfics are true, what that totally isn’t part of why I love this go ahead and admit she doesn’t deserve it

> ==>

Yesss flashy gif struggle against control!  (Though, not as elegant as one of Andrew’s might’ve been. Gotta say.)

> ==>

Blinky-eyes about to resolve normal-Jade-colored....!

> ==>

Wait, what?  I thought Jade was about to snap in and--

during the ship’s trip through space, there have been numerous experiments; modifications to the nutrition output of the various machines designed to create sustenance for the various species on board. i myself have been content with orange juice and synthetic proteins, but dave and roxy have both expressed longing for various ‘earth snacks’, and so the trials and errors began.

What the fuck?  I don’t even know where this is going if it’s punways.

Is there like a dog treat somewhere that’s gonna push her over the edge?  Where is this headed even.

> ==>

Wh...

WHa??????

the results were mixed. as roxy told us in a previous chapter, alchemized food all sort of tastes the same, although the visuals really help to bring about the flavor. and at the end of the day, isn’t it the journey that is more important than the destination? the stories you tell as you create the strangely flavored nutritional paste?

JADE: ????????????

Um??  What’s even going on.

so far, everyone’s favorite attempt has been a vaguely peanut-butter and chocolate flavored creation called "Rices'". nobody eats them really. they just sit in a bowl on the counter.

i’m not actually sure what the witch is trying to accomplish here.

Is Jade trying to humorously gross Alt!Callie out of her body with a candy she doesn’t like or?  But, “suicide threat”? Why joke--

JADE: you dont? JADE: really?

i don’t know what she is trying to accomplish, because surely she would not be doing what it appears she is trying to do. making such a meaningless threat.

JADE: meaningless? JADE: do you even know anything about the body you stole? JADE: shouldnt you have run some sort of psychic physical before you possessed it? JADE: its definitely what i would have done!

Oh SHIT.  You mean Jade has the same peanut allergy JOHN does?!?

> ==>

jade must know that i am well-aware of her family-wide peanut allergy. a story thread that has been extremely important and weighed in on in multiple parts of the narrative. how could i have forgotten such a key detail?

...yes, she totally forgot, but more than that.

I’m betting John is the ONLY one with a peanut allergy.  That Jade is USING that fact to bluff like hell.  :D

(Allergies aren’t usually inherited that way you alien!)

there is nothing remotely just or heroic about dying from self-imposed anaphylactic shock in the throes of a childish tantrum. at the most i’ll get a relaxing few minutes of sleep.

Is Alt!Callie bluffing now?  Even a resurrecting death could throw her off.

> ==>

FUCK YES JADE.

JADE: do you really want to risk it?

what are you talking about, jade? i just said--

FUCK YES JADE, BE A HUGE WITCH

(i say in the most witch-connotatively and non-classpect-related way)

JADE: i dont know, callie JADE: ive never really understood the rules that govern the death of a god tier, have you? JADE: it seems pretty arbitrary from where im standing JADE: who makes the decision whether or not something is heroic or just?

...that’s unclear. but it certainly isn’t you.

JADE: right, of course not JADE: but are you so confident that youre a good guy? JADE: are you sure that the alpha timeline WANTS you to be here?

...what.

JADE: youve done some stuff, callie JADE: im only saying you shouldnt be so quick to assume that me killing you wouldnt be just JADE: and that taking my own life to do it wouldnt be heroic

Even with JUST this one fucking situation Alt!Callie put her in, throwing off her control forever by dying would be shortsighted but HELLA JUST.  What Alt!Callie is doing to her is a crime.

Oh shit!?!?

> [S] ==>

What is this, HTML5?  *clicks play*

...for a second, I thought this was gonna launch into a huge thing with that clock ticking song from the Felt album.

Having Rose and Dirk’s colors competing here really reinforces that... Prospit vs Derse vibe that was feeding the whole this-is-the-basis-for-the-game’s-structure-and-the-birth-of-Paradox-Space theory more earlier.

> ==>

i don’t let the witch manipulate me. i refuse to falter in the face of her whispers. without my careful planning and swift action, the prince would have taken full control over this timeline. none of my friends could even begin to imagine the turmoil.

In the end, you’re ignoring what’s right and brave in this instance to instead do something EXPEDIENT, to the exclusion of trust and compassion when things COULD work out just as well without taking the worst actions -- which is textbook villainous.

> ==>

JADE: they arent your friends!! JADE: you took them from me!

Now isn’t THAT a way to put it. :D :D :D

Alt!Callie is sinning almost as badly as Dirk, here.  Viewing everyone else as characters in a story, the only way she’s ever viewed “friends”, and her as the not-so-humble narrator doing what’s best for all of them.  If she’s going to win against Dirk -- or if that victory is going to MEAN anything -- she will HAVE to realize that she needs to be different.

JADE: you keep saying that youre doing all of this for my own good, but youre just lonely! JADE: i know you are, because so am i!

Ouch.

Will Alt!Callie force her to swallow it?

JADE: you said that being a space player is all about sacrifice JADE: well

> ==>

JADE: bet

...I guess she really might have an allergy.

> ==>

Aaaand the candy drops.  A W A K E ! ! ! !

Yaaaaay Jade is BACK and we’ll get to see even more of her!!!

...please tell me on the next page she grabs the candy, noms it, and mentions she doesn’t have a peanut allergy after all.  That would be sweet.

> ==>

...

Nope, you just leave us on a sad.  Dammit, why do you gotta be all adult and showin’ us both sides in a moment of triumph, HS^2.  Shucks.

Anyway, YAY JADE!  C:

I am happy by this, if slightly too emotionally-rollercoastered by the past 24-hours to give this the full-rejoicing it deserves.  That, and worried about the openings Dirk will get because of this... joy now for potential frustration later, even if Jade tries her best to let Alt!Callie back in in-time.

See y’all next time!  And, uhm.  I guess I’ll comment on whatever other asks I promised to comment on another less-eventful day.  Keep reminding me and holding me to it though!

[emiijay]

Chapter Nine- Finding yourself in time (Rick x Reader fanfic)

I do not own Rick and Morty 

You turn over in the sheets bumping into something hard. You open your eyes and come face to face with the man you’ve been spending a lot of time with recently. The sheets are spilling over his waist, exposing his bare chest to you. You scan over his body, starting with his face. He looks so peaceful when he is sleeping, all the stress washed off his features.

Your cast your sight downwards and meet his chest. His skin is pale glowing in the sunlight, his abdominals strong and clearly defined, moving with his every breath. You reach up and hover your hand above his chest. Slowly your hand meets with flesh, the warmth startles you.

You look up to Ricks face and see it undisturbed with your actions. You gently drag your hand down his waist, past his navel to rest just above his groin.  Your fingers lightly trace the skin, stopping as it goes behind the waistline of his pants. You continue your ministrations doing the same on the other side of Rick’s waist.

You lay like that for a few minutes before Rick starts to stir. Your hand freezes until he goes motionless again, feared you’ll get caught. You shift your body closer to Rick draping your arm over his frame. You sigh in contentment wishing you didn’t have to get up today. Your mind still spiralling about the events that transpired, the sight of your friend’s dead bodies overwhelms you. Even though they weren’t the Rick and Morty you knew, it’s still dreadful to even have to witness their deaths.  

You hug Rick tighter, the sadness taking over your body.

“I could get used to waking up with a hot chick.”

You squeak in surprise at the husky voice that fills the room. You look up to Ricks face and see him smirking down at you. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, getting rid of the sleep that is currently present.

You lift your arm up to get away from Rick when he grabs it to stop you.

“Uh, ah. Now why would I let you get away after touching me without my permission? We’ve been through this before. Hmm?” Rick leans in close to your face.

You look away in embarrassment and try to hide your face with your other hand. Rick doesn’t let you as he grabs your other wrist and pins you against the wall that is directly behind you. The wall is cold on your back which sends chills throughout your small frame.

“Maybe I need to teach you some manners. Does the princess need to be taught?”

You struggle against the hold he has on you as you try to break free.

“Rick, I’m sorry. Please I won’t do it again.” You plead as his grip only tightens.

“Now what to do with you. Shall I spank you? Or perhaps I should tie you up?”

“N-n-neither! Please just let me go” you beg of Rick.

He manoeuvres you so he is now on top, your hands sprawled above your head. He lowers his body so his weight is now resting on top of you. Rick lowers his head and his lips connect with your neck. You shriek in shock having the unfamiliar sensation hit you. The feeling of his wet lips trailing down from your neck to your chest sends warmth straight down to your privates.

You gasp as he starts nipping at your skin, stopping on your throat. He begins to suck lightly in the same spot gradually getting harder. His erect member pushes into you and you can’t help but let out a moan.  

“R-rick what are you doing?” you let out in little breaths.

Rick just hums and moves up, crashing his lips against yours. He licks your bottom lip asking for entry. You let him in, your tongues start battling for dominance. Rick lets go of your hands and brings his up to knead your breasts through your nightie, your nipples stiff as he rolls them between his fingertips.

You let out a moan and run your hands up his strong back, finding a place to rest them in his dishevelled hair. Rick bucks his hips into yours, his small gasps and moans turning you on further.  

“Why don’t you tell daddy what you want.” He says aggressively into your ear.

“Rick! Please I need to feel you.” You struggle to get out.

“Where? Tell me where you want me?” He sneers as he pulls your nightie up over your breasts.

“P-please I need to feel you inside me Rick. Fuck me please!” you cry out in need, succumbing to the pleasure.

With that said Rick pulls himself free from his pants, pulls aside your panties and slams deep inside you. You gasp for air in shock at the slight bit of pain the friction causes. You hear Rick’s grunts as he adjusts himself inside you, the pleasure soon taking over.

“Uh baby, you’re so tight, so wet” Rick rumbles in your ear.

He begins to thrust slowly, gripping onto your thighs. Having him deep inside you doesn’t quite feed your desire, you need more.

“Faster” you whisper out.

“Uh uh, what are the magic words princess?”

“Daddy I want you to fuck me faster, harder!” You groan out in frustration.

“That’s my girl.” He smirks and kisses you ferociously.

Rick bucks into you even harder, earning a loud mewl from you. He grabs your legs and brings them to rest on his shoulders. The new position allows Rick to go even deeper, the new angle hitting your g-spot. The sound of skin hitting skin surrounds you, your moans reaching every corner of the room.

Your hands grip the sheets, your breasts move with the force of each thrust. Rick lowers his head and connects with your nipple. He takes it between his teeth and lightly bites down. This pushes you over the edge, your climax taking over your body.

“R-rick” you moan out as you orgasm, your walls clenching around Ricks member.

“Fuck baby! I’m coming.” Rick leans his head in the crook of your neck as he releases himself inside you.

Rick removes himself and rolls beside you. Your bodies sweaty as you try and catch your breaths.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that this morning.” You look to Rick as you say this.

He stands up and heads to the door. He opens it and peaks his head to look down the hall.

“Let’s go shower.” He walks out and heads to the bathroom, leaving the bedroom door wide open.

You jump up and race to the bathroom but not before running straight into someone. You instinctively cover yourself with your hands before looking at the culprit.

It’s Jerry.

You shriek and try to step around him but all you do is that awkward stepping where you both keep going the same way. The commotion must have caught Rick’s attention as his naked frame steps into the hallway.

“Jeez Jerry you perv. Step away from the woman!”

Jerrys face goes bright red and he tries to avert his eyes. You use this time to side step around him and run into the bathroom.

Jerry just looks at your retreating form as you disappear behind Rick’s naked body. He looks bewildered as he watches Rick close the door and the both of you are safe from prying eyes.

“I don’t wanna know.” Jerry says before walking away.

//

It’s been a couple of days since Rick bought Morty home that sex robot. Everyone but Morty is down eating breakfast, the constant squeaking of bed springs can be heard above. You look over to Rick who doesn’t seem to pay any attention to what is happening around him.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Morty coming down into the dining room, dressed in his undies, a sheen of sweat present on his forehead. He grabs the carton of orange juice and gulps it down before running back upstairs. You hear the squeaking start up again, you blush in embarrassment.

“Um, please excuse me.” You say and stand up to place your plate in the kitchen.

You hear Jerry start scolding Rick in the other room while your gaze trails over to the freshly disturbed grass, the place where you buried Rick and Mortys bodies. A shiver runs down your spine, remembering all the carnage strewn about the garage. The horrifying images plaguing your memories.

As you are lost in thought you hear commotion coming from above. You walk back into the dining room and find it to be completely empty. More shouting can be heard so you race upstairs to see what is wrong.

“What the fuck is that!?” you shriek in horror.

Morty has some type of thing in his arms, it’s completely covered in gunk.

“I’m a father now. You know. It’s time for me to be responsible” Morty says as you look on in terror.

Jerry and Beth go over to stand beside Morty and what you’ve learned to be Morty Jr, trying their hardest to defend it from Rick and his gun. Rick just sighs in defeat, knowing he isn’t going to win this one and picks up the sex robot.

“Fine. I’m going to take this to my lab and do a little bit of investigating. Do not let that thing out of your sight, it could grow up to be something dangerous.” He walks past you in the doorway grunting from the weight of the bot.

“Wait up Rick, I’ll come with you!” The sight of Morty Jr gives you the creeps.

You reach down into the lab and watch as Rick lays the robot on the table.

“So what are you working with here Rick? Some type of alien sex robot?” you lean over and watch Ricks expert hands get to work. The same hands that ravished your body only days earlier. You shake your head as Ricks talking brings you back to reality.

“Well I can’t solve the problem my way, so I’m going to have to find out where this is from and hopefully find suitable parents to look after it. Gross, I think I may have touched one of Morty’s loads.” Rick shakes off his hand and looks over at the garage door that has now opened.

Summer walks in and asks Rick the same question you just did. He sighs and repeats himself, bringing up some type of hologram of planets. You look on in wonder as Rick begins to tell us his game plan.

“Maybe I can find suitable parents for Morty Jr on this robot’s home world, which seems to be a planet called Gazorpazorp. Go back inside Summer, I have a job to go and do.” Rick says while he walks towards a portal he just opened up.

Summer looks at you with sadden eyes before turning to Rick.

“Don’t you need a new companion now that Morty has a family? The three of us can all go.” Summer pleads while following closely behind Rick.

“It’s bad enough that I have to lug this one around with me, I don’t need a second pair of tits on this one” He says as he points back in your direction.

You cross your arms in defence.

“Look Rick. I think I may skip on this one. The whole sex robot, alien child thing kind of creeps me out. Take Summer. I know she really wants to go. Plus, I want to look around town for a bit. See if anything jogs my memory of where I came from.”

Rick just looks at you and lets out a groan.

“Fine. Summer, you can tag along but don’t go touching shit you shouldn’t. I’m not your babysitter.” Rick takes out a flask that was in his coat pocket and tags a swig before stepping through the portal.

You wave goodbye to them as you see their frames slowly disappear from view.

“Right, time to face the music” you say to yourself as you leave the confines of the garage into the brightness of the day.

//

You hop out of the cab, finding yourself in the middle of town. The streets are lined with unfamiliar faces rushing past you as they go about their day. You roam the streets for a while going past building after building, nothing jogging your memory. As you approach the mall you are drawn to where you went shopping with Summer, the place looks overcrowded. You decide to go through the automatic doors where you’re met with the cool touch from the aircon.

After spending a few hours looking around, you end up with nothing. You sigh out loud and hear your stomach grumble. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast so you decide to head to the food court. You pick up a burger and fries and plunk it on the table forcibly. This is ridiculous. You thought you would at least see something that jogged your memory.

You sit there and play with your fries, not really having an appetite anymore. Your eyes wonder around the many faces that line the food court when your eyes settle on someone. Someone who looks slightly familiar. This person decides to take this moment to look up at you and your eyes meet. You stare at her for what seems like an eternity when she finally breaks eye contact.

Her short brown hair shifts when she turns her head away and stands up from the table. You can’t help but stare at her frame as she walks away. You try to keep track of where she went but a group of people walk in front of you and she disappears from view.

Oh well, mustn’t be that important. There is nothing left for you to do here in town so you call a cab and head back to the Sanchez household. Maybe things will be more interesting there.

//

You pay the for the taxi cab and thank the driver before heading up to the front door. You wrap your arms around your small figure, the cold of the night starting to creep up. You can hear shouting coming from the confines of the house. You contemplate whether or not you should go in, hoping you aren’t interrupting anything.

You reach out to grab the door handle when the it abruptly opens. Out barrels this monster who is well over twice your height. He doesn’t seem to notice you so you quickly jump out of the way, Morty following close behind him. You hear Morty call out in protest.

“No. Stop!”

Your eyes never leave the monster as you see it take in deep breaths.

“My life has been a lie.” You hear it say as it begins to run away, still rambling on.

“Uhm, Morty? What was that thing?” you say as you turn your attention to him.

“That was Morty Jr. We need to do something! He is going to take over the planet!” He yells at you and runs back inside. Soon finding his own dad.

You walk inside not long after Morty and close the door behind you. You lean against it and let out a deep sigh. You really can’t deal with this right now so you head up to Rick’s room and wait for him to get home. There is something you need to discuss. You sit on his bed and before you know it, you drift off into sleep, Rick’s musk filling your senses as you snuggle into bed.

//

You are woken up by the bedroom door forcibly being open. You jolt up in bed and hazily rub your hands through your sleep tousled hair. You can hear Rick slurring to himself as he starts to undress, you quickly intervene.

“Rick?” you squeak out.

He stops what he is doing a slowly turns around smirking at you.

“Couldn’t keep away from me, hey hot stuff?” he wiggles his eyebrow at you.

You blush and look down sheepishly.

“I was just wondering if there was any way we could speed up my memory loss. I feel like I am getting nowhere.” The sadness of your voice radiates around the room.

Rick begins to hum and ponder in his head.

“There might be one thing we can try. Follow me toots.” Rick leaves the room, grabbing his lab coat that he just took off. I guess we are going to the ‘lab’.

You follow Rick down to the garage and he is quick to set up what looks to be a long bench with straps for the hands and feet to be secured. You nervously walk over to Rick and ask what you need to do.

“Get naked.” Rick blatantly says.

Your eyes go wide in shock and slowly follow his demands, Rick’s gaze never leaving your body.

“Do you mind if you could look away?” You ask of Rick.

“It’s not like I -urp- haven’t seen it already.” Rick gleams and takes a swig from his flask.

You quickly make work on getting undressed, folding your arms over your chest to protect you from the cool air biting at your skin.

“Get on the table”

You follow his demands and place your arms and legs in the restraints, ready to be shackled to the table. Rick places a strap over your head to keep it secure, your heart starts to beat rapidly. He starts to attach things to your head and your chest, making sure they are stuck on firmly.

“Is this going to hurt?” you ask, looking into Rick’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Is all you hear before you feel the electricity run throughout your body, a scream filling the air as you black out.

You see something. A figure standing over you but you can only see their silhouette. There is an unknown laughter resinating in your head, the feeling of a strangers hands grabbing at your body. Your eyes bolt back open, your breathing heavy before you notice Rick sitting in the chair beside you.

He has taken off the restraints and you sit up, your hand coming to rest up on your head.

“So, did that -urp- help you remember anything?” Rick asks.

“I did see something. It was very troubling.” You bring your knees up and wrap your arms around your body.

Rick just stares at you in deep thought before you feel something warm drape around your body. It’s his lab coat. He coaxes you off the table and walks you inside and upstairs, your clothes left lying on the garage floor.

“Let’s go get some sleep. We can -urp- brainstorm tomorrow.” He nudges at your side.

“Ok. Hey, Rick? Did I really need to be naked for that?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Fuck no but I just love seeing you in the nude!” he laughs manically, causing a smile to fall over your lips.

A/N: Hey all. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Does anyone have any thoughts or theories? I would love to hear them. Thank you Until next time xx 

[lilmajorshawty]

Uranus in The houses : The Unhinged.

Uranus In The First House : A Calamity

(Kanye Feat. Jay Z - No church in the wild)

for natives with this placement the world itself can feel almost restricted in it’s dense formatting. To them people play pretend, and this makes them create walls as a means to escape from this “playground” of superficiality and conformity. they in many ways can be fantasy, operating on whim and wanderlust rather than any understandable motive. The ego here is complex, rather it’s constantly changing and augmenting. These natives can seem detached, far or aloof even if they have a rather watery or earthy ascendant. They keep distance from the world around them and can find it rather hard especially when young to cope with being “different” from the rest. Uranus in this house can cause standout features such as cheekbones, hair patterns and colors, eye colors or rather even just a unique scar or beauty mark on the face. these natives can be problem starters or deviants, in some ways many with this placement if not outright have that hidden side to them that seeks to test the boundaries of people or things in their immediate environment. Stark reds or blacks tend to color their wardrobe especially if they happen to already be a water or earth ascendant. despite Uranus here they can hide this energy despite it sitting in the first house if Uranus is well aspected or partnered with another planet or aspect to the rising sign.

Uranus In The Second House: A Power-Outage 

(Kanye West - Fade)

Uranus in the second house natives have the Judas Kiss. In most scenes this is seen as a taboo or rather bad relation; rather in this situation I would say this natives are capable of a great good but also a tremendous evil if they so please. the temperature here is cool to hot very quickly much like the finances of these natives. on one side they can have massive ups, and rather godly luck in matters of money. But seemingly from nowhere money can be lost, stolen or even misplaced just as quickly as they found it. the cycle of having and losing usually is what causes these natives, especially later in life to become very free when it comes to money matters. their self esteem can see its fair share of ups and downs but once they accept their uniqueness for what it is they no longer feel bound to the standards of beauty or security they've been taught to uphold here as Uranus forces them to create a new definition of the idea of “security.” these natives can be GORGEOUS; of course in saying this I don’t mean every other Uranus placement lacks the ability to be beautiful, rather Uranus in this house adds a special type of sensuality, the type that seduces a room without even a second thought. They have a star quality, almost like the lights are drawn to them effortlessly. The throat can be a bit unique or even possess tattoo, piercing, or in some cases freckles and or beauty marks(moles.) the tone of voice can either be raspy or faded in a way, fluctuating and “different” these natives can be untouchable once they master the art of loving thy self in regard of all uniqueness. 

Uranus In The Third House: A Stormy Sky

(Run The Jewels - Call Ticketron) 

Uranus in the third house natives in true third house fashion Love the mind, they can take on a rather personal stance towards understanding others but a more impersonal one on understanding their own mental makeup. They are true creatures of impulse, seeking to dig and devour every aspect of the human response. They want to know the “why,” the “how,” the many intricate reasons on why you close your door before you go to sleep, why you cuff your jeans before you head to the date, why you cover your mouth when you laugh. To them the mind is a machine and one they are endlessly fascinated by. They can have moods in which they are extremely choosey and cliquish about who they show their genius mind to but in some ways its not them being stuck up or snobbish, rather they need to be mentally stimulated by people who know how to have free thought. People who can challenge them, people who can give them a new perspective or who have a deep mind are like eating the sweetest cherry pie for these natives. they adore mental diversity and often remain more introverted until they find that in the environment they’re in. They can have a rather fixed gaze in their eyes as if they are caught in a deep thought or on a destination you’re not apart of. They can have beauty marks and moles on the arms unless other planets sit in this house, the nails and or finger tips on women or men can be slender and boxed. the hand movements can seem very detached from the movements of the body they belong too. the arms can also be rather cold in their temperature. the speech pattern is quick and get far away as they speak as if they are talking away from you as the conversation continues. They also have the tendency to avoid touch or have an intensity to the way they do initiate touch.(handshakes). Very punk rebel vibe to them. 

Uranus In The Fourth House: A Silent Bolt 

 (Travis scott - Astrothunder) 

This can be a bit of a taxing place for Uranus to be in a persons chart as it can create a distant sort of ways a way feeling in the most vulnerable place in someone’s heart, home. The home can seem a bit “for now” for the native even if the family Is loving and caring as can be. the native carries this energy as if the security they feel may only last for a moment. the family can in some cases be unorthodox or a bit strange in its composition. it could be that the native is an adopted child, lives or has lived in a ever shifting home environment or may have a detached relationship with those they get intimately involved with, including their loved ones. Uranus could also create a situation here the child is raised by relatives or siblings rather than the parent or in some cases raised themselves. the native could've seen the home as a place to test the mind or the concepts of life itself. at home is where their ideas and concepts find voice often causing the natives to seem detached when you get to know them as you will soon realize that it is impossible to make these natives feel as though they “need’ anyone. Due to their detachment to their fourth house often started from child hood they don’t have the same emotional grounding as most. this makes these natives Extremely hard to get to know as they keep so much of their feelings hidden away from anyone, even family. Uranus here doesn’t just build walls, it creates circumstances that force the native to fend for themselves and be independent. these natives don’t know how to “need” people and because of this usually have to teach themselves how to allow themselves to feel certain emotions, and in many ways they have to teach themselves to “care” about people despite the possibility of vulnerability that may come from it. These natives have deep feelings but regardless seek freedom frim their intense emotions as often they feel immensely understood on an emotional level and prefer to be their own “ rock” so to speak. the parents could have professions in medicine and even science and or law. parents may be gone often or be unable to provide for the native emotionally in the proper way necessary. The chest region can be unique in some way, be it scars, moles, or different skin tones than the rest of the body. the chest is very vulnerable. heart palpations and unusual heartbeats can be common place. Uranus here can cause cold body temperatures. these natives have a hard time letting people in and because of this the more you get close to them or force your way into intimacy with them the more distant they will get. they crave a life free of people and connections, in many ways they want to be nomadic, feeling and experiencing in reclusion. 

Uranus In The Fifth House : A Electric Current 

(Kanye Feat Sia, Vic mensa, Frank Ocean - Wolves) 

Uranus in the fifth house is a powerful position for Uranus, despite being situated in the house of its opposing medium. Uranus in the house causes the native to experience their fare share of heartbreaks as it invites love liaisons that are exciting, passionate but brief in nature. it can seem like their is a divine lesson to be learned in the realm of romance and even children as these natives will be forced to relinquish control over their children much earlier than most parents as the kids will be strong in Aquarian/uraniun energy. this isn’t to say other planets and even the sign on the cusp wont augment this, but the natives will have to allot their children the room and freedom necessary to grow otherwise the children will rebel. the dating scene is likely turbulent, periods of draught and nun- like celibacy only to be bombarded with periods of intense intimacy. the natives can attract the idealist type, the rocker type, the bad boy or the conspiracy theorist. the kids are often visionaries but detached, they can adore the native as a friend or the cool mom, dad. the casual sex encounters are often memorable but can push the native into deeper themes of self realization. the party scene is often indie, a bit nuance and a bit of a sacred relic. they tend to be off to the side or inhaling the energy so to speak almost as if they’re seeking a greater party elsewhere within the very party they’re are attending. the hobbies and things sought out of pleasure are often odd. these natives tend to be stimulated by electronics and gadgets but more importantly documentaries and alien flics often are more their scene. they love a good conspiracy and even more so love to research the topic. they can be a bit flighty when it comes to the seriousness of intimacy which is often reflected back onto them in the grand scheme of karma. the back can have beauty marks, moles on it and can also have a strangeness to it appearance. 

Uranus In the Sixth House : A Perplexing Case Of  Deja Vu

(Disclosure - Jaded jammer Remix)

to put it in simple terms these natives are erraticccc, with a capital E. They can create the wildest day to day schedule and it’ll somehow be much more organized and neat than any of us could ever do. they live by their own compass and tend to loathe any outside reinforcement of how and what they should be utilizing their schedule to do. They value a certain level of independence in their day to day and can easily feel afflicted if they are being forced to follow any one else's regimen than their own. their health can also take on the same erratic tone. some times the guessing game they play with their bodily health is part of what adds to that insane happy-go lucky energy they carry and partly why they are the least effected by bodily alignment. Uranus makes the body heal quickly here, often causing these natives to do better dealing with their own health issues unless absolutely necessary. Surgery may in some way shape or form be necessary for these natives as Uranus in this house and the eighth house tend to do that. The stomach can be unique in its appearance but this is often negated especially if the sign on the cusp is in its last decan. the internal organ structure however will operate and preform much different than most. The native will often have odd schedules at work or detached and new age type of co-workers. the native may get jobs as a journalist, a CEO at apple or a new generation company. the ability to get a job “can” be easy sometimes and hard in other times it truly just depends on how Uranus is vibrating. The native may have a sort of cosmic back drop, as Uranus in this house can create premonitions and or preludes to situations set to occur soon. the native should take much care to pay attention to these. 

Uranus In The Seventh House: A Unstable Party of two

(Big Black Delta - Huggin & Kissin )

Uranus in the seventh house natives are quite the experience. To put it fondly these natives can be a maelstrom of ups, downs, here's and there’s, Back and fourth's, Two le fro. The story can drain you but you’ll find yourself sucked into their electric vortex of sex, love, passion, anger, rage, and numbness. they are in a sense a sweet little jingle all to themselves wrapped in thorns. they are passionate souls, but the electric uranian current causes them to send out that passion in an overwhelming fashion. people attribute this placement to cheating which is something I have to disagree with, this placement on it’s own in it’s depth means that these natives crave and need a connection that touches their spirit and mind on a cosmic level. Their standards are high which causes them to seem flighty. they are unique and very perplexing individuals and for that reason they’d do anything to find that one perfect gem that reflects their storm, making a colorful shimmer. to them the chaos in a relationship is what makes a connection but the ability to take one another, bare and complete is what they attribute to be real love. The conquest can make them seem like sluts, or whores but in reality they aren’t the type to sleep around or even date for the sake of it as many of them prefer the loner lifestyle. these natives can be hard as hell to understand and even harder to win over but once you do you’ll likely see just how powerful cosmic love can be, and baby it is a groovy experience. these natives can have very cute butt dimples or beauty marks around these regions. depending on how daring they are these natives also get ass tattoos. these natives are very sexy and have an energy to them that makes them the prize. most people want them but they normally don’t notice there fans and prefer the types who don’t blend in normally with society. Exp(drake leo rising Aquarius DC falling for Rihanna, Rebellious, independent, passionate but aloof) They often are level headed and non-emotional in their interactions with others and vice versa. the start of the marriage can begin abruptly and depending on how evolved the native is the marriage can also end abruptly. 

Uranus In The Eighth House : A Fallen Apostle 

(Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Sacrilege)

Ah Uranus in the Eighth house, The epitome of Intensity and the icy cool of hell all in one. These natives are very much so the dark witch dressed as damsel in distress, the virgin dressed in sheer red panty less, the red eyed lover sitting atop the debris. to these natives the world, it’s people and their psyche isn’t safe from their all seeing celestial aura. these natives are blessed with a sight so clear and so powerful that often they can sense you and your intent ions before you even glance their way. they feel energy like an electric vibration and react to it consciously and unconsciously. they operate on this divine modem yet still reject any guidance from any higher power as they want to be in control of their own fate. in many ways they take on the form of a rebellious angel favored by the ruler of all, not just for their “balls” but for the limitless nature of their tenacity. these natives are ambitious when it comes to the world of the dead, they want to transverse spirituality and the cosmic window and many can be drawn to the occult, be it astrology, actual cults, tarot, psychic mediums, paranormal investigations and so on. these placement is very spiritually powerful as well as these natives tend to earn the respect of good and bad ghost. demons and angels tend to take on passive energies towards these natives more or less being rather curious as to the life choices and directions the native will choose to follow. they often have very strong dreams and can easily hear divine calling if they surrender to the unknown but these natives as brave as they are can be afraid of how “real” their own spiritual ability really is and in turn shy away from the heavier stuff. they can have a past life linked to science and innovation, one in which they discovered something of great importance in their present life. in many cases having Uranus in your 8th house in this life time can mean you’ve lived many lives and carry many souls within your body hence the heaviness of this placement. the body temperature is often very cold and the native can easily get shivers and tremors due to sudden temperature changes. these natives tend to dislike to much heat and can suffer from being accident prone. the native will likely have surgery and an interest in surgery that will become more apparent over time. the genitalia will have unique features or just be shaped in a different way. the hips will be in a sort of hourglass shape depending on other influences. Uranus here also causes a much darker eye color, as with all 8th house placements. the native will have good luck in finances but, their will be a constant fluctuation in finances especially with Neptune here due to Uranus and it’s 50/50 nature. that being said inheritance and money deals will usually run smoothly even if Uranus is badly aspected, but still caution is advised with harsher aspects. sex can almost be experienced in seldom as usually from what I've seen the universe is very picky about who is able to sleep with these natives. usually the natives are put in long moments of celibacy and then sprung by sudden and long periods of constant sex or thoughts of sex. the natives can be very detached and very, very hard to get emotionally close to as the darkest and most intense side of themselves is put behind a uranian wall. they are in a sense the darkest place for Uranus because of how overwhelming their real energy is. not to exaggerate but these natives are not easy to handle and they know that, no ordinary person is usually capable so these natives tend to be very choosey about who is ready to take them on. 

Uranus In the Ninth House : A Divine Exit 

(Foals - Exits)

For Uranus in the 9th house natives much could be said bout their rebellious spirit but even more could be said about their influential presence. These natives share a obscure world view, one far from the norm and one that isn’t supported by the rest. the can have passionate views on the political landscape but can keep these thoughts tight to their chest especially if they are a more shy person. they prefer a world lived in truth rather than blind following and desperately seek to create that even if in a small way in the world around them. they are buzzing with the rebel energy and can seem like the bad boy or bad gal in town even if they’re sweet as can be. the nature of Uranus in this house is to challenge the status quo which often makes these natives huge advocates for reform and leaks as they need and want the public to have the opportunity to think on their own. These natives can be extremely open minded and one of their most admirable qualities is the safe haven they create for those who don’t feel safe speaking or validating their own truth. these natives albeit strange are very good hearted anarchist. the travels can be interstellar(literally) as Uranus rules space age tech and these natives tend to travel often to highly industrialized places. the natives can have rather aloof or detached engagements with foreign places which allows them the greatest avenue for self discovery and change. they often adore history and language but can despise the ecosystem of paid college and governmental institutions which usually makes many of them seek outside sources of knowledge or in some extreme cases not go to college or further schooling all together. the hips and thighs can be unique in their shape or have freckles(moles). 

Uranus In the Tenth House : A Earthly Anomaly 

(Alexandra Savior -Frankie)

Uranus in the tenth house is very intimidating. These natives have these kind of critical yet leering gaze to them, this honest and suffocating loathing of society and its little nuances. They know the end and beginning and often find themselves augmenting the results only to be disappointed by it’s commonality. They view people in spades and often find themselves testing reactions and situational responses from environments and people involved. their public persona can be viewed as detached, rather cool and unassuming. their media profiles can range from conspiracy to vintage oldie sit-com. they live in an era that is long dead and gone. they value genuine expression and often adore the new, and rather simplistic approaches to beauty and art. to them keeping some of the old, and taking your own spin on it, bringing it to life in your own light takes an immense amount of dedication and skill. they can seem rather elderly in their approach to concepts and carry a sort of pre-historic air to them yet in so many ways they are ions beyond everyone else as Uranus in this house gifts these natives with not only a resourceful mind but a encompassing mind that sees the beautiful stills and angles yet to be used. they tend to be very poised and serious individuals who dislike a misuse of the “outsider” aesthetic. to them not fitting in isn’t a “trend” rather it’s a experience, it’s a very real aspect of life and one they take seriously. they project this air of independence but can easily overwhelm you with how easily they can remove their feelings from an encounter and treat you as if you were a speck of sand they happened to pay a little to much time on. they have a strong capability to do anything technical, be it space science, astronomy, be it bacterial research, chem labs, cancer research, robotic engineering and so on. they could care less about status and tend to be fond of jobs that allow them some level of reclusively. other planets can augment this description. the bone structure can be rather striking in it’s build leading to either a stranger look or taller look.

Uranus In the Eleventh House : A Transparent Fuse

(Metronomy -reservoir jaques Lu cont remix)

Uranus Can act a damn fool in it’s own house, you’d imagine Uranus would be pretty happy here correct? you’d be right! Uranus is a force in this house but not in the way you would think. The natural ability to make friends is capitalized here but it’s also strange in how it’s brought about. friends and the idea and concept of this will constantly be a out of reach understanding to the native. The friends take on the real role they were supposed to which is being a mirror into the soul of the individual. every aspect of these natives friend is an aspect of the native her/himself. the friendships can start and end quickly and have rather odd middle periods almost as if its a simulation of sorts. The natives themselves can be quick of wit and insanely bright, their mind just receives and accumulates knowledge like some sort of intergalactic sponge.  they tend to take on a humble conscious though and tend to loathe seeming overly educated in any one subject as they believe there is always something more to learn. these natives can struggle with hot and cold periods especially emotionally as they can feel sudden bouts of direction less-ness. they can seem a bit self critical and self deprecating only because they hold their mental state to such an abnormally high standard. they tend to be very drawn to organizations of any kind and have very giving and sacrificial hearts. that being said they can smell a con from a mile a way and aren’t to types to mindlessly donate. they can have a strong moral compass and a truly authentic rebel soul yet a great deal of who they are is presented very calmly and flows much easier than any of the Uranus placements so they actually seem the most “normal’ out of the bunch. the ankles can be a bit on the small side and can have some unique marks or bone structuring towards the foot. 

Uranus In The Twelfth House : A De-Railed Train

(Tangerine Dream - Love on a Real Train)

Uranus in the 12th house is very different from Uranus conjunct Neptune, or Neptune in the 11th..rather it’s a placement that creates this energy of oneness, a seemingly collective stimulus in a final alignment. These natives are Psychic batteries, they feel and sense the world in such a deep way that they often can easily be written off as “weird” or “odd” to the general populace. in many ways they represent the cosmic due to how deep and personal they feel the vibrations of their environment. they often have strong escapist tendencies that are worsened because Uranus often feels stifled in this house. they tend to operate on two planes of consciousness and switch in and out of these personas on a continuous scale. they can often seem as if they’re not feeding you the entire plate, which is true, they are often withholding large chunks of their mind and inner realm from those they meet as a measure of protecting themselves. The dreams can be vivid beyond belief and can have rather peculiar and odd contextual themes that never seem to go hand and hand. the dreams tend to increase in intensity in response to outside triggers. the spiritual constitution is very intense but can get better as more experience is gained over time. behind closed doors these individuals are Brainiac's, wizards, mad scientist and lab rats. they understand it all, listen to them and hear the astral plane on the tips of their tongue. they are immensely intelligent and unknown to many of these natives once tapped, their minds can do unforeseen things. they are adaptable and  easily able to pick up information and skills in the blink of an eye. to them there isn’t an uncharted place in the sky, but since this is the twelfth house this beautiful skill is hidden somewhere in the hum-drum of their psyche and it’s waiting to be freed. 

[badsext]

The Substance of Love - Chapter 3: Klaus x Female Reader

Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 2 is here

Word count: ~ 1950

Warnings: This is where the tender, loving SMUT is.

_________________________________________________________

“So you finished it?,” Klaus inquired, his mouth full of instant noodles.

“Yeah”

“And….”

“Oh my god, it’s so epic.  I never thought I’d root so hard for the antichrist….Heaven is full of hard ass warmongers…The devil is a deadbeat dad.  That shit is priceless!  And, of course, Azirafale and Crowley are so perfect together.  I’d ship them.”

“I really like you, Y/N.“  Klaus said, his eyes focused on you.

"Aren’t you, uh?…You stammered.

"What?"  He grinned, still staring and enjoying your embarrassment a little. 

"I mean, I’m not completely…either, but I thought…” Your voice got caught in your throat and your cheeks grew hot.

“Never mind.  What I meant to say is, me too, Klaus.  I like you too.”  You started frantically checking around the pillows on the couch.  “Oh for fuck’s sake - Where is the remote?  I still need to show you my favorite movie.”

“Since when do you swear this much?,” Klaus teased.

You bopped him in the face with one of the pillows then settled into a comfortable position.

“I guess the ghosts decided to give you a break, hu?”

“Oh no.  We’re definitely not alone.  It’s like listening to two or more conversations at once.  My brother, Ben is here.  He’s a real chatty bitch.”

“Is he the one with the…"  You mime a creature bursting out of your chest.

Klaus laughed. “Yeah.  You know he can see you.”

“Oh, right…I’m just saying ‘Aliens’ might not be the best choice of movies.”

Your phone buzzed with a text from Kendra.  It said ‘call me - important.’

“Ooh.  I’ve gotta make a quick call.”

“Alright, I’ll go outside for a smoke,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him.  “Just a smoke,” he assured you.

“Okay.  Give me five minutes."  Klaus shut the door and you turned your attention to Kendra.

"Hey Kendra, what’s so important?”

“Is Klaus there?"  Her tone of voice made you nervous.

"He went out for a smoke, why?”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this….She paused and took a deep breath.  "Klaus and I have been seeing each other. I know you two are close.  Has he mentioned it to you?

"Um, no."  You reply, still processing the information.

"That’s what I was afraid of.  I just hope he’s not giving you the wrong idea.  He’s also been telling me things.  He told me why you got fired from Mount Saini.  I just wanted to warn you, before you got too involved.  He’s not who you think he is, Y/N.  Just be careful.

"Okay, I appreciate you telling me."  You wiped the tears that had already formed on your face as Klaus opened the door.  He noticed immediately that something was wrong.

"What is it?  What happened?"  He rushed over and tried to comfort you, but you just stared at the ground with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, hurt but not wanting to confront him.  You were embarrassed for thinking Klaus might have romantic feelings for you.

"I have a job interview in the morning.  I think you should go,” was all you could manage to say without crying.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded.  His hands gripped the back of his neck and he looked as if he was about to cry himself.  The more he insisted, the more you felt like you were being played.  Kendra’s words still rang in your ears.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.  Just get the fuck out,” you said, effectively ending the argument.  Klaus searched your eyes for a compromise, but he found them unrelenting.  Instead of slamming the door, as you may have expected, Klaus closed the door so carefully it barely made a sound, which was somehow worse.  You started crying as soon as he was gone.

A few minutes into your breakdown, just as a headache was beginning to form, you went into the kitchen for some water and it dawned on you.  Maybe Kendra was lying.  Klaus looked genuinely confused and upset. After leaving your place, Klaus would have gone to Kendra’s or to the club to score drugs.  If you found him at the club, that could mean he wasn’t with Kendra after all.  It was worth a shot. 

You headed downtown to the spot he always talked about in group, 'The Shark Tank.'  You were so conflicted. Part of you wanted to find him there, suggesting that maybe he did have feelings for you and not Kendra.  Another part of you was devastated to think of him using again and that you had something to do with it.  You were so torn, you thought about buying some street pills and just getting high.  This is the point when you would have called your sponsor, which reminded you that you needed a new sponsor ASAP.

Klaus’ description the club in group really flattered the place.  It was actually a grimy hole in the wall, chock full of sweaty club kids.  It would seem that at thirty, Klaus had outgrown it.  But then there he was, leaning against the wall looking despondent.  You were relieved to see him there, but still anxious about what you might learn.  He looked up at you confused.  The music was so loud you had to get close and practically yell into his ear.

“Did you take anything?"  Klaus just opened his hand.  In it was a standard little plastic baggie of amphetamines.  He looked up at you, clearly feeling the blunt force of his emotions.  He was clean.

"What stopped you?"  You asked, wondering how he had the strength.

"I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you."  The significance of this made your heart jump, but you couldn’t let it stop you from your purpose. 

"Klaus, I have to ask you something." 

"Please!  I have to know what you’re mad about.  I seriously have no clue.”

“Kendra knows about my past, not about my power, but she knows the reason I was fired from the hospital…You didn’t -”

“No, I didn’t tell her that!  I wonder how she would-”

“You’re not sleeping with Kendra, are you?”

“God, no!  I haven’t talked to her since the last NA meeting.  She came onto me, but I wasn’t into it.  I turned her down and she didn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d try anything like this,” Klaus replied, looking genuinely distraught.

You looked into those haunted green eyes and you knew you believed him.  Klaus was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar.  Kendra had raised some doubt during a moment of weakness, but she was manipulating you.  You had real, tangible feelings for Klaus and it was time he knew it.

You held his head in your hands and kissed him delicately on the lips.  Then you pulled back holding your breath for his reaction.  A split second passed which felt like a millennia while he sorted his thoughts.  Then he smiled, pulled you close, and kissed you with an intensity that affirmed everything you had hoped for.  His passion persuaded you to move your body to the music with his.  Dancing was something you had rarely, if ever done sober.  But it felt so good to finally have your body pressed against his that the rhythm came naturally to you.  His hands were wrapped around your waist and yours had found their way to the back of his neck.  Klaus nuzzled into your ear and whispered, “Wanna get outta here?”

Buy the time you got to your apartment, you were so desperate for each other, you barely made it through the door without tumbling onto the floor.  You each began shedding your clothes.  Your eyes raked over his smooth skin and lean muscles, adding to the growing wet heat between your legs.  He was likewise aroused by the sight of you removing your sundress.  His tight leather pants were made tighter by the sight of your naked silhouette.  You grabbed teasingly at his bulge while he explored your mouth with his tongue.  “Let me help you with this,” you said into his lips, as your fingers fumbled with his fly.  He trailed sensual kisses down your neck and shoulders.  

When his pants fell down around his ankles he kicked them off then lifted you off the ground to straddle him. Your breath caught in you throat as he spun you around towards the bed.  He put you down gently and trailed his fingertips softly through the hollow between your breasts, over the soft curve of your stomach, and down to your aching pleasure center.  He looked into your eyes as his fingers danced and played with your sensitive flesh.  You gasped and moaned, reacting to his subtle and not so subtle movements.  He dragged his lips down to your breast and sucked your nipple into his mouth while he slipped his fingers into your tight wet void.  You bucked forward and he swirled his thumb against your swollen bundle of nerves.  There was no holding back, you came before you even realized what was happening, moaning and twitching and spasming around Klaus’ fingers.

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and giving them a little taste.

You reached up, wrapping one hand gently around his neck and purred, “I need you now, Klaus.”

That was all he needed.  You felt his throat muscles clench and his erection press harder against your belly.   He slipped into you so easily and filled you completely.  Then he began thrusting, grinding, and building friction exactly where you wanted it.  Another orgasm pulsed through you, and Klaus watched your body arch and react.  He cracked a proud little smile as he continued.  After riding out your climax, you seized his shoulders and rolled on top of him.  You wanted to make him feel the way he made you feel.  You rocked your hips forward until he was buried to the hilt.  You intuitively wrapped your hands around his neck and squeezed lightly as you bounced up and down.  It wasn’t long before Klaus was bucking and releasing himself deep inside you. 

“Wow, that was….”

“Um hm.”

You dismounted carefully and rested your head on the pillow next to him.  You laid there together a moment, just catching your breath.  He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together.  

“So, this is going to sound random …My father died a few weeks ago. You were still in rehab. I went back home for the funeral and saw all my brothers and sisters. It got me thinking.”

“Oh god, that’s right.  I remember seeing it in the news. I’m so sorry, Klaus.  I can’t believe I didn’t even acknowledge it.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it…He will not be missed…The point I was trying to make is that if you’re interested, I ‘d like to take you home…to meet my family.”

“Oh my god, Klaus, yes!”  You peppered his face with featherlight kisses, then you settled in behind him, one arm under the pillow and the other slung over his hip.

“Oh, wait.  I really do have a job interview in the morning.”  You suddenly remembered and leaned over to set your alarm.  “And let’s confront Kendra at the next meeting.  She shouldn’t get away with this shit and I’d love to know where she got her information.”

“Mmm,” Klaus writhed against you.  “You’re sexy when you plot revenge.”

“Go to sleep,” you chuckled, kissing his curls.

Want more?

@moorehollandplz @helena-way07 @bubblyani @yeetskeetbuddy @zoemassingale @zohrayoung @ohyoubringmejoy @mywinterivy @waywardtrashfam @fiowersnack @becka1703 @zohargreeves @slutonside @klaushollandyoung @bekindbeslutty @hmblergah @justahufflebird @salty9winter9adult @kit-kat-is-me-lol @victor-criss-bish

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 15: In Sickness and in Health

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena is a bit under the weather.

Editor: @wonderifshelikesroses

"Whatever you did to the wicked bitch, it worked," Crowley said, tone rich with approval. Proud to the bone. "Keep doing it."

No good morning.

No hello.

Not even a sarcastic remark.

If you didn't love him, you would have shoved him.

"Good morning to you, too," you said, earning you a smug smirk. Jackass. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sam threw his signature bitchface at Crowley and rolled his eyes. Dean seemed amused, and Castiel looked out of place as usual. As if he'd suddenly found himself surrounded by strangers and was too awkward to get away. Classic him. Meg, clutching his arm to keep warm, was smirking, intrigued by whatever drama (and it most certainly was drama. With Crowley's uninhibited approach, it could hardly be anything else) was happening.

Well, shit.

What had you walked into now?

"Rowena's sick," Sam said.

"Oh." You forced your face to remain neutral. Shoved down the concern that nibbled at you like an army of fire ants crawling over your insides. "I can't take the credit, but I'm sure she'll be fine."

She was Rowena MacLeod.

She survived.

"She picked up some nasty ailment while on your little trip to the cinema ," Crowley said with disturbing joy. "My sincerest gratitude. Granted, it's annoying to listen to her whine at home, but at least I don't have to look at her at school. And she got knocked down a peg. That's always a pleasure."

"I'm so glad I could help," you said dryly.

It wasn't like you intended for her to get sick.

If anything, the purpose of going to the movies was to have fun. To show her there was more to movies than black and white classics.

Wait…

How did Crowley know where you went? Had someone from school seen you and spread the rumor? Or had Rowena told him in a rare moment of sibling bonding?

"You went to the movies with her?" Dean said in the tone that hoped the answer would be negative.

You weren't at all sorry to disappoint. "I did."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh."

What did he want you to say? That it wasn't true? That he'd dreamed it?

You were with Rowena Saturday evening. Watching a horror movie. Holding hands.

Your heart swelled up with warmth at the memory. Your hand still tingled where hers held it. Where her tiny fingers squeezed with impeccable strength.

"So, what, she's your friend now?" Dean said, accusation clear in his tone.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, anger flaring through you like lava in your blood. Why did he care? Why did any of them care? Who you hung out with was none of his business.

"Why do you care?" you snapped.

"Because she's Rowena?" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, bitch, bully, dating the guy who grabbed your ass."

"I'm well aware of who she is, thank you very much," you retorted. "That still doesn't make it any of your business."

"I'm just trying to look out for you."

Noble, but no less annoying.

It was Rowena.

Yes, she hung out with bad people. And yes, she dated a douchebag. But you could handle her. Regardless of the people she was surrounded with, she was harmless.

"I can look out for myself."

Dean sighed. "Look, I'm just saying she's not the best company."

"I can make that decision for myself," you said. "Besides, we aren't even friends. We just hang out sometimes. She's my tutor."

He cocked up an eyebrow. "She tutoring you at the movies?"

"For the last time, none of your business."

He raised his hands up in a placating motion. "Whatever, dude. Just be careful."

You smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. Condescendingly. "I'm always careful."

"She got you good," Crowley commented.

"It's none of your business, either," you told him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Duly noted," you said sardonically.

"I, for one, am glad you guys are hanging out," Sam said warmly.

"Of course you are," Dean commented.

You ignored him, flashing his brother (who was giving him his signature bitchface) a smile. "Thank you. It's nice to take a break from studying from time to time."

"Right," Sam said, nodding, a conspicuous smile on his mouth. "From studying."

Was that disbelief in his tone? A touch of teasing?

No way.

You and Rowena were just friends.

Not even that.

Whatever Sam was implying (or you thought he was implying) would never come to be.

*****

Ms. Hanscum was going on and on about today's lesson, reminding you with each word why Math was your least favorite subject.

You yawned, exhausted, longing for the warmth of your bed. God, you hated Mondays.

You especially hated Math on Mondays.

As if it wasn't enough that you'd gone to bed late and slept badly and that your friends had all but spat on your budding friendship with a mean girl, you had to listen to numbers and formulas that you didn't understand and Rowena wasn't there to flash you that smile that wasn't as smug as it'd initially looked and give you a look that promised that later on, once she was done with you, you would understand everything. Or at least enough for a D.

You missed her.

You hated yourself for it, but, god, you missed having her in this class.

It was silly; you were well aware of that. It was just one day — one class — without her. She would be back in no time.

You'd spent so much time wishing she would go away and now that it finally came true, you were miserable.

Life was full of irony.

Ten minutes before the end of class, Ms. Hanscum started rambling about the midterm. As if a wave of ice-cold water had suddenly washed over you, you froze, chills making their way down your spine as you watched the white chalk as it scrawled over the board.

There it was — the date of the midterm.

Two weeks from now.

Two measly, lowly weeks.

Shit, shit, shit.

There was no way you could prepare for that. No way you could learn all the lessons, even with Rowena's help.

You were screwed.

When the bell rung, you quickly gathered your things and rushed out. You needed to be away from this class. Away from numbers and dates and midterms. Away from Ms. Hanscum.

Unfortunately, she had other plans.

"Y/N?" she said in her sweet, friendly voice you found yourself resenting. How dare she be so nice after announcing such a difficult exam? "Could you stay a little bit, please?"

You stopped in your tracks. Sighed. Willed yourself to push the turmoil down. "Of course, Ms. Hanscum."

It wasn't like you could say no.

She waited for the last student to leave before saying, "As I'm sure you noticed, your new friend is sick today."

"She's not my friend," you said, more out of habit than actual denial. She was your friend. Or was on her way to becoming it.

"Right," Ms. Hanscum said, not really buying it. Or not caring about the correct terminology. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take her homework over to her? With the midterm coming, I don't want her to miss anything."

"I, uh, sure," you instantly said. No thinking it through. Instinct taking over.

You wanted to see Rowena. Wanted to see how she was doing. Bringing her homework over would be the perfect excuse.

As an added bonus, maybe she would infect you and you could miss the midterm.

Win-win on both ends.

"Wonderful!" Ms. Hanscum beamed. She handed you two folded up sheets of paper, smile never leaving her mouth. How could she always be so cheery? While teaching Math, no less. Maybe she was an alien. "Tell her I hope she gets better soon!"

"I will," you said with a nod.

You would be wishing the same thing.

*****

The last person you expected to greet you at the door of the MacLeods' house was a surprisingly well groomed old man with snow-white hair and an impressive beard.

He looked like Santa Claus who'd lost a couple pounds and replaced his red suit with a black tuxedo.

You eyed him, surprised. Crowley hadn't mentioned having any visitors this morning at school.

But then, he was Crowley. He spent more time at bars than at home.

"Hello, young lady," the man said politely. It was the kind of politeness that was learned, perfected over years. Professional. Somehow, it put you at ease.

"Um, hi. I'm here to see Rowena."

You clutched your bag to you in emphasis. And also because it was cold. Layers of clothes and boots weren't a huge help in this weather.

Winter sucked.

"Of course! Come on in."

He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in, then closed it gently but firmly behind you.

"I must warn you, young miss is sick," he said. "Seems to be the flu. This year's got it bad."

Ouch.

Lucky for you, you got your shot on time.

"I heard," you said sympathetically. "I won't be long. I'm just here to give her today's Math homework."

"That's very kind of you," the man said. "Are you the one she tutors? Her mother mentioned a girl who often comes around for lessons."

"That'd be me."

You smiled awkwardly and started following after him as he led you up to Rowena's room.

"How rude of me. I haven't introduced myself." He stuck out a hand, a kind smile on his mouth. "I'm Guthrie. The nanny."

Nice.

You'd never seen a nanny such as him.

You shook his hand. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

He gently knocked on Rowena's door.

"What?" came her instant response. Annoyed. Scornful. So Rowena.

You had to smile. It felt good to hear her voice.

"You have a visitor," Guthrie told her.

She sighed, purposely loudly. "Send her in."

He opened the door and motioned for you to do as told. Rowena was on her bed, sitting cross-legged, clad in cute red pajamas and woolen socks, and wrapped in a fluffy blanket. Her laptop was open in front of her, the screen bright as the light overhead. She was paler than usual. All color was gone from her face, leaving her skin ashen, white as bone. Her hair was messy, resembling a bird's nest.

It was strange to see her like this. Rid of her glamour. No makeup to hide her features. No shiny clothes to cling to her lithe body.

Just a girl like any other.

And she let you, of all people, in to see it.

It felt like a privilege. Like you'd just been granted a priceless gift.

"Hello, sick girl," you said teasingly.

She allowed a smile to graze her dry mouth. "You're on thin ice, lass."

You put your hands up defensively. "Hey, you're the one who let me in."

"I'm starting to regret it."

You chuckled. She followed suit.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else would be here at this ungodly hour?"

"It's three PM," you pointed out. Your designated studying time.

She smirked. "My point exactly."

"Do you need anything, Rowena?" Guthrie asked in the soft, gentle tone of a father concerned for his child's wellbeing.

"I'm fine," she said, exasperated.

He nodded. "I will leave you girls to it, then."

With a small bow, he closed the door behind him and stalked downstairs, his footsteps echoing in the hall.

You raised an eyebrow. "Grandpa nanny?"

"Mother calls him when Fergus and I aren't home to take care of Gavin," Rowena explained. She rolled her eyes. "And me, apparently. I told her I'm perfectly fine, but apparently being sick makes me unable to take care of my brother. Like I'm a bloody invalid."

"Maybe she's right," you said, shrugging.

She glared at you. "I'm fine."

"You're sick. And she's your mom. She worries."

"She's overbearing, is what she is."

Agree to disagree.

"Why are you doing here?" she asked. "You do know I have the flu, right?"

"You look it," you teased, nodding. She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. You laughed. "I'm here on business. Ms. Hanscum sent me to deliver your homework."

"Of course she did."

You handed her the papers. She looked them over, curious.

"I take it you won't have trouble with it," you said.

"Och, darling, you know I'm a genius."

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. "Yeah, you're Einstein."

She grinned. "Is that all?"

If only.

"There's gonna be a midterm before winter break."

The words tasted foul in your mouth. Bitter. Your stomach turned.

Rowena nodded. "What do you say we start preparing for it this Saturday? I suppose my ailment will pass by then."

"Sure." You turned to her, fear straining your face. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you asked, "You think there's enough time?"

She frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For me to, you know, get everything."

"Och, aye! Don't you worry, dear. By the time the midterm comes, you will be a Maths expert. Second only to me, of course."

You had to give a small chuckle. She knew how to lighten the mood. "You're so humble." She shrugged. Your face fell. "Really, though, I'm scared."

It took a lot of courage to say it, but once it was out of your system, you were relieved. It was out in the open now. No more just your burden to bear.

Rowena's expression softened, sympathy spilling over her face. "Don't worry," she said softly. Soothingly. "You will pass this exam."

It was easy for her to say. She was a genius. One of the best students in the school. Everything came easy to her.

She had no idea what it was like to turn over in bed all night for days on end as thoughts of failure chased your dreams away.

"What if I don't?"

"You will," Rowena said decisively. She reached for your hand and squeezed it. The touch was gentle, comforting. Her skin warm on yours, sending waves of excitement, elation, through you and putting you at ease all at once. "I promise."

A new hope blossomed within you.

If she said it, then so it would be.

*****

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