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chaniters · 5 years

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ELDRITCH

New short, Fallen Hero : Rebirth. Sidestep meets Anathema for the first time. New made up villain too. Also, Sidestep gains a problem with addiction in the end.

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ELDRITCH

You take your a spot right next to the fountain. You like it here, and lots of people walk trough the park, specially on sunny days.

You set down your easel and extend your chair. Some of your previous sketches you set on display on the floor.

The easel was a good dumpster find, and you've been making a good living trough it.

You open your sketchbook and start drawing. You'r not the best artist, they just trained you to draw faces. And that's what you do most of the time.

But you'r also making a sketch of the park between sketches. You'r learning to draw buildings. Inanimate objects are harder to you, since they don't have a mind to tell you how they should look.

People are different. You can read their thoughts, see their features and draw them in the way they'd like to be seen. They'r so happy about it and your metal mug is usually filled with tips.

You wished you had thought of this before... begging on the streets made you feel like a parasite. At least people is happy with your sketches, and you'r happy to make them.

Today is a good day and you even manage to sell several of them. A guy comes to describe you some people he knows, and you take the images from his brain and draw them... He tells you that you must be very talented. Makes you blush, even if it's undeserved.

You stop a few times, for lunch and some snacks, but for the most part, the day is spent filling your sketchbook with faces and images.

By late dawn you'r done. You begin to pack your things. Time to get back to your place.

You put everything in your backpack, and get your hood and googles back on. You'll pick a different place tomorrow.. maybe by the beach.

"Fuck Olivia, I can't believe you did this."

You stop by, hearing the distant yelling even before you notice the minds.

"I did it for us baby! It's what you wanted! Now It doesn’t matter that you lost your job! We won't need to work anymore.. We can just take everything we need. You just need to take yours too!" she seems to be offering him a flask

"I was fucking joking! I told you that! And I never told you to take that shit! And i'm not going to take it either! Fuck.. we need to find you a hospital soon"

His mind is outraged and shocked... but Olivia's mind.. is something else. You sense an intense struggle... she's just simply being overcome by some form of hormone and chemical imbalance the likes you've never seen.

"I'm NOT JOKING! This is SERIOUS! I'll show you!" She extends a hand and to him... and it suddenly starts... changing.. before your eyes

"See? Look! I CAN DO THIS!" Her "Hand" now more loosely resembles a claw. A black exoskeleton is covering it before your eyes. And it's spreading trough her arm...

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?" he yells stepping back

"Jason! Stop! Don't run away!"

"Stay here Olivia.. I'll.. I'll go seek help!" he screams in panic.

"No.. No! NO you'r leaving me! I knew you where leaving me! EVERYONE... Is... always LEAVING!" she extends her claw... and it's now much longer than a normal arm. She takes hold of Jason's arm in an instant, pulling him closer.

"GAAgH!" You hear him scream, now in pain. There is a soft crack.. she's probably broken his arm with that claw. Some onlookers are taking pictures with their phones in the distance, but no one's doing anything. She closes the flask to his mouth as he tries to look away. Hero drugs obviously.

Fuck. You take your easel with both hands and sneak behind her

"AARGH! LEt me... Go!" Jason screams.

She's distracted... you lift your easel and take it down her face with all your strength.

"AWWW!" She yells turning on to you, her eyes changing color before you as he speaks "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" She realizes she’s dropped her flask “NOOOOO! I NEEDED THAT! WE NEEDED THAT!”

The exoskeleton begins to spread to her cheeks and the base of her skull..

Unlikely you can really hit her again after she’s totally covered.... her other arm is begining to look more and more like an insect's sting.. sharp and deadly. She gives you an enraged look...

FUCK... why do you keep getting involved...?

You don't answer. You just hit her in the chest this time, maybe you can... there!

She's out of air, and she lets go of Jason, who falls to the floor in pain.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" You yell at him

He manages to get up and take a few steps back.

"YOU WON'T DO THAT AGAIN YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Her claw takes hold of the easel and pulls with brutal strength... she actually tears some of the wood to pieces. Then she raises her needle and sends a powerful trust your way.

You see it coming, and dodge it, the needle tearing a hole in the pavement.

That's just great. You hate your life.

She pulls it again and charges at you. You duck as she swings her claw, then jump to her right to avoid the needle. Using the impulse, you get a get a hold of her leg, pulling it up... only she doesn't fall. Her shoe comes off in your hand, and you see claws beginning to form on her (Feet?)

Her other leg seems to provide more than enough balance, and she counterswings. You get hit by the claw and flung on your back.

You roll backwards, standing up. Her mind is a mess... you can predict her movements but not her intentions.. or her continuous mutations. A horn is now beginning to form on her forehead. She charges at you.

Once more, you dodge, and she impales a wall behind you with the now fully formed horn. Only took seconds and it's solid enough already.

Your hand goes to your backpack.. but it's an old habit. You don't have a gun these days ...tough honestly you'r not sure a gun would help against this kind of boost.

Hesitation doesn't sit well with Olivia. She frees herself from the wall and ... something lashes at you. Tentacles.. coming out of her shoulders. Trying to grab you...

You evade, but she is faster and faster.. until one of them trips you... she raises her needle arm to stab you down. You close your eyes.

The stab doesn't come.. instead you hear a monstrous shriek of pain from her.

"Mind if I help?" You open your eyes, incredulous.

A hero... to your rescue.

He's holding the needle arm with one hand. The needle itslef is disintegrating, as if his touch was burning it.

Olivia shrieks and lets go, pulling her needle back in pain.

"Here let me help you up" He says extending a hand. You take it... and stand up.

"Are you new ? Outfit could use some work" the chubby figure chuckles.

"Watch out!" you yell. Too late... Olivia's claw, which seems to have doubled in size smashes him sideways, sending him flying into a lamp post.

"fuck... fuck..... Fuck!" You evade another killer blow. You've got to think about something fast.

Olivia.. Or the creature that was Olivia begins sending attacks with an ever changing body as you fall backwards.

You realize you'r not going to win this fight with strength. If you win it in the first place.

“Never attack when your enemy defends, always behave in ways they can't expect... never show your true power until the end.” You mutter as you dodge, duck, and cover. Despite yourself you can't help remembering your trainers.

You circle the creature, evading attacks from it's (Limbs?) as It grows increasingly frustrated.

"Stoooop... Sidesteeping!" It screams in what seems five different voices. You'r not even trying to look too much at it now beyond dodging.. it keeps mutating before your eyes in truly disturbing ways.. reminds you of the bodies... the inhuman ones..

You realize you've got only one chance at this...

A single mistake by the thing... it's all you need. You jump, spiraling in the air, your left palm stretched... and it makes contact with the thing's Head.

It immediately makes a grab for you with it's arms (claws... tentacles.. stings..) and IT catches you... but that's no longer important. If this doesn’t work you’ll die either way. You'r not confident enough in your telepathy... that's why you needed direct contact.

A storm breaks trough your shields, enveloping you... blowing you away... You focus, reforming your own barrier, and digging into her's.

For a few seconds there is only chaos, and you can only feel the strength of her arms crushing your chest... but then you find her, and you'r no longer in your body, nor she in hers.

There she is... at the very bottom of the pit, surrounded by monsters of every imaginable form and shape, circling around in a hurricane of lighting, confusion and hatred. You dive in, as hard as you can... reach your hand for hers... Your fingers touch.

You feel your minds meld.

Calm. The storm dies out. The monsters go silent before your gaze. There is only silence. She looks at you.

"Help me" She says. You've got hold of her mind now... but something's not right.

"I'm trying! Hold on to me!" your mind tells her. You are trying to put a lid on top of the enraged emotions... You only need a moment..

"HELP ME!" She screams... the scream echoes and the air around you turns into broken glass.. the sound increasing exponentially. The Storm rages once more The monsters wake up again, striking at you. But the door is almost closed... almost.. You struggle with all your strength to seal them away and... and then you'r kicked out of her mind.. In force.

Pain. Darkness... familiar darkness. Back in your own body. You hate doing that, but you had no choice. You open your eyes.

The hero who saved you... He's looking down on you with concern.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

You try to contain the nausea.. and then ask her in return

"I don't know... are you?"

He smiles. "I'm Anathema. I'm Invulnerable! But that thing's strength is something else. It left me out of commission for a few seconds... whatever did you do to it ?"

You look back, trying to stand up while panicking

"Where is it?"

"Oh it escaped. You gave it a good scare tough... When you hit it with that palm attack... and it just broke away in pieces". She points at a mass of limbs and tentacles lying on the floor next to you "It just started cracking... parts falling off like they had dried away. And then this naked lady got out from within... seemed totally out of herself.. and she just ran away"

"Olivia" You say.

"What?" Another voice... You realize the two of you are not alone. You turn...

"Hey kid" You blink. It's Charge. Fantastic. This crapola again.

"Oh This is Charge! I got here first... i was the closest ranger." Anathema explains.

"Yeah, i Know him..." You admit

"He's the brick kid"

"WHAT, for REAL ?" Anathema helps you up "HAhaha! You'r a legend!"

"I'm not..." you look down. "I just wanted Mr. Molotov to get what he had coming.. uhm.. where is my... "

You walk down to where your easel is lying down, broken in several pieces. Your backpack is ripped as well. Your sketches are smudged with goo, and the sketchbook itself has a huge hole gooey going trough them all made by the thing's needle arm.

You take a deep breath. And just sit down on the floor seeing if you can salvage anything.

"Oh no... " Anathema approaches you. "Was that yours?"

"Yeah." you say letting go. Useless. It's all just useless now. Only a few pencils survived. And your unfinished sketch of the park is crumpled and thorn.

You feel like crying again.

"Hey. These are very nice" he says putting two pieces together... a sketch of an old lady. She gave you 5 dollars.

"Not bad" Charge adds.

"I'm learning" you say. That's true... you'r trying to learn to do more than just raw sketches.

"Why don't you come with us?" Charge says "We can get you some new supplies"

"I don't need charity!" You state a little louder, pretending to be enraged. TRuth is you'r scared of being seen with them and have people identify you later.

"Hey it's not charity" Anathema says looking at you with a smile. "It's the least we can do. You dealt with Eldritch Olivia in one hit."

There is something warm and fuzzy about his mind that you can't quite describe. But you know this is a mistake... You should hide again ... go back to your place... stay away from the authorities such as them.

"Here, have one of these" he says passing you a wrapped piece of ... something.

"What's this?" You ask

"Chocolate bar" he shrugs

You open the envelope and take a bite.

"Whatever you did.. .it was incredible. .. how did you do it? Do you have a name already? Is that some sort of touch of death?"

Your tongue answers in direct contradiction to all logic.

"I'm ... Sidestep. And that's what I do.. martial arts.. pressure points... I knew i could weaken her if I hit her when her chi was out of balance" You answer. It sounds real-ish, right ?

"Pressure points? Martial arts? Oh.. you'r one of those" Charge studies you.

"What's wrong with pressure points?!" You ask indignant

"Nothing, nothing!" Anathema Interjects

"Say... Sidestep." Charge pronounces your chosen name "If we can get you some new art supplies, can you make us a sketch of this Olivia? We still need to find her"

"It... depends" you speak in a serious tone.

"Hmm... ? On what?"

"How many more of these can you get for me?" You hold the empty envelope of your chocolate bar. "In the next 15 minutes?"

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My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #Fallen hero #fallen hero spoilers #sidestep #Ortega #anathema #fanfaiction

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jessemccowbae · 7 years

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EVERYONE AT OVERWATCH IS HOT. A THESIS.

ALRIGHT KIDDOS SADDLE THE FUCK UP.

We have now officially reached the drunk enough to say shit you ort notta said part of the evening. And we have so many new people showing up, and said to myself, damn self, there are so many pretty people showing up tonight. And then I realized why: it is because LITERALLY EVERYBODY HERE IS ATTRACTIVE

I am not making this up. When objectively removing existing friendships and awkwardness and social niceties and power imbalances and general Reasons It Is A Bad Idea, I would most definitely bang everybody in this building.

So naturally before making suhc a statement I needed to double check the entire roster. And make sure I wasn't leaving somebody out or making someone feel bad. Or anything like that, because even if I didn't want to bang you all I still almost entirely like y'all and don't want to cause no hurt feelings. We're still a family and I still love you okay? But I went down the whole list and. I was right. Literally. Everybody. At Overwatch. Is like 100% bangable. Some over 100%.

For the purposes of this I am leaving Bastion and Orisa off the list. Because Orisa is a youngun and probably doesn't have a grasp on such things yet and Bastion seems to be like... three? Four maybe? Mentally? I mean given that we just had to explain porn I think there maybe issues with the concept of sex, much less consent. But it's definitely not just an omnic thing, as you will see.

So look. We're gonna go straight down the fuckin list and I will Mathematically Prove This To All Of You.

ANA. Alright, this is one of those where like I normally outside of this experiment wouldn't think about it mostly because Fareeha would murder me. But for the sake of makin' the point I will. The Captain was a fuckin' fox in her day and hasn't lost most of it. It's like 80% attitude, she could kill pretty much everyone I have ever met, but even if you base it just on looks she's got it nailed, alright? 10/10 gimme the damn time machine

HANA. I feel like I shouldn't because she is enough younger than me that it's creepy? So I will just say this: if she had been here when I was a 17-year-old recruit I would have basically tripped over my own dick trying to get her to so much as fucking glare at me. Hypercompetence is fuckin hot. */10 but teenage Jesse is like nerf me pls

GENJI. Is a hot dude. I'll just go there, alright? He is. I am also like 90% certain that some of those mechanical parts have functions that weren't in the instruction manual if you know what I'm saying, and I have watched his ass train, you would not believe the fuckin flexibility. Like if you like dudes even a little and you wouldn't fuck Genji you're lying. 11/10

HANZO. Go on and fucking laugh. Get it out of your system, I'll wait here. Okay, you done? Cause this motherfucker is carved out of fucking marble. Like I think if I punched him in the stomach I'd break my hand? And my hand is metal. Just fucking. Chiseled out of granite or some shit. Top to bottom. His face is the same too, he looks like some kinda Renaissance statue or some shit. Like even if I wouldn't bang him, which make no mistake I would, I would still want to touch him a lot to just see how he's fucking real. 13/10

JAMIE. Okay but lemme let you in on a secret. Happy fun laughing sex? Is the best sex. And if this little asshole is half as manic in bed as out you are in for a fuckin' time, alright? Plus he's tall as hell and has long ass fingers and the accent ain't bad either. Solid 8/10, probably a 10 if he could concentrate long enough to put actual effort into seduction? Either way, bring Gatorade

LUCIO. I mean, have you met this dude? He is probably the most gentle and caring and tender jackass you ever met in a bed. Will just dote the fuck all over you until you're a crying mess because you know no human can ever be that good back to him and he doesn't even care, he's just glad you're here, and then he wants to snuggle after. I mean sure, he's hot, but that's fuckin' secondary at this point. 11/10 also probably has the best sex playlist on the planet

MEI. If you have never seen Mei outside of her winter gear. Do yourself a favor. If it ever looks like she is about to take her coat off. Make sure you do not have any food or drink in your mouth. Because the first time I saw her in a t-shirt I basically snorted soda up my nose. She is a sweet and kind and wonderful darlin', make no mistake! But more prurient to the current subject her body does not even make sense. I'm shocked Winston ain't made a project of her yet because that many curves in that small a space has got to violate some laws of physics. Just... so much... EVERYTHING. All at once. Twenty pounds of bodacious in a ten pound sack. Here for it. 13/10 thighs would make excellent earmuffs

ANGIE. Okay. Look. You know all those American movies where there's this like shallow useless prop of a Gorgeous European Woman who's flirty and sexy and statuesque and golden? Now imagine they're also friggin crazy insane brilliant and like the kindest most loving person you ever met in your life and can also cook. Why do the rest of us even exist. Fuck me sideways. 11/10

FAREEHA. She is smarter than me, cooler than me, tougher than me, more educated than me, and can and has beaten me up. If you're into ladies and muscles this is your second best bet on base. And she's good at fucking everything? Which, again, I'm into, you should be too. 10/10 wear your pads

REINHARDT. Look. I'm just gonna come right out and say what we're all thinking. He's like 6'6" at least and about a yard wide at the shoulders. Even if he's just proportionally average he's still probably hung like an elephant. And hey, still got the bod after all these years, it's impressive. 11/10 I am a tall dude I've never been held up against a wall and it sounds fun

ROADHOG. You know what? Hog is a super fuckin sweet dude. I was not expecting that. But like, I got a big soft warm hug earlier just because I was drunk and sad. And we ain't even super good friends yet. So honestly this probably goes the same way as Lucio, basically. Plus he's got big hands so hey. 10/10 why the hell not

JACK. I mean, fuck, look at him. Fuckin blond-haired blue-eyed pristine midwestern beefcake asshole. Got a fuckin' statue. You'd do him just to say you did it. 10/10

SATYA. Look, I'm normally real good at reading people and the whole aloof and mysterious thing is kinda played out? But she's working it. Like, just warm enough on occasion to reel you in a little. I dig it, very controlled, well executed. If you're into someone else taking control it's totally there. Or just insulting you, if that's your thing. And I mean, also gorgeous eyes and legs to the fuckin moon but did I even need to say that? No, no I didn't. 11/10

TORBJORN. YES I SAID EVERYBODY. Now look. Everyone wants to talk shit because Torb is small which is a fuckin disability actually, and it gives him migraines and shit and it makes everything hard and it sucks for such a good dude. But I have two points here. One: he is an engineer. I have seen him work. The level of manual dexterity is fucking astrounding. Two: He has like eighty-leven fucking kids, so he is CLEARLY doing something right. 10/10 get you some old man

LENA. Is a doll, alright? Everybody knows that. But everything I said before about happy fun sex applies here. Like yes, super cute, got it, but she's just like. Fun and happy just to be around. Lena makes everything a good fuckin time and if anything should be a good time it's fuckin', right? 11/10 maybe 12 if she brings British chocolate

WINSTON. Yeah I know. I said everybody. But like, here's the thing. There's the obvious Not A Human issues. That's weird. And weird in a way it isn't with omnics because he's a thing we normally don't view as equal but he's special and separate. So I am not gonna say this in a like, of me way.

But here's the thing. Winston is just. Good. Better than any of us, seriously. And he's the reason we all ended up back here. The reason I ended up back here when I damn well don't deserve to be. I walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me like a fuckin' idiot because I was scared and you all just. Let me back in. Like I didn't stab every damn one of you in the back when y'all needed me most.

I deserved what I had. Being alone and scratching out a meal and on the run. All I was doing was reaping what I'd sown myself and now... this. Now I'm home again and you all just act like I didn't...

And Winston gave me this. What I didn't deserve the first time around and sure as hell didn't deserve a second chance at. I owe him everything. I owe him my damn life. Winston is good and kind and amazing and wonderful and I want him to be happy and have whatever he wants, and if that includes getting laid then by God I hope he finds it.

10/10.

Anyway.

ZARYA. Holy hot damn. Like, I understand submissiveness in bed and whatnot, I may not entirely feel it but I get it. But I've never quite gotten the like, actual physical roughness thing? Until now? Because I'm pretty sure I want her to punch me. Honestly I'm suprised Lena can hold a conversation with her without choking. 11/10

ZENYATTA. Yeah yeah y'all were waiting for this weren't you. And this was gonna be a pretty standard "lol vibrating robot parts" joke but a little while ago I was snifflin' into this shot glass and he put one of those happy orbs on me? And just... guys everything is so good. I love y'all a bunch and we're all here together, an' we're doin' good an' makin the world better and it's so good. An' it don't even feel fake-good like getting drunk and forgetting your problems, which I was failin' to do earlier. Just... like there's so much good stuff already in the world an' I just couldn't see it before. Anyway what I'm sayin' is bangin' Zen might be the path to eternal enlightenment. 11/10 align my chakras baby

AND THAT. Is the thing. Is the post. That I have spent like an hour on now? But everybody here is hot and I'm surprised I can goddamn function.

#overwatch rp #jesse mccree #Drunken Cowboy Antics #everybody is hot #((I've had this post thinly planned out for like a week))#((I've been waiting for an excuse to get him plastered enough to do it))#((I sincerely hope you all enjoy and laugh))

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starpunched · 7 years

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and enoch walked with god

fandom: fire emblem: awakening pairings: chrom/grima, past chrom/robin warnings: violent imagery, death, blood, semi-explicit sex, consent issues due to power imbalance, religious overtones

and he was not; for god took him.

In the version of things where Chrom bleeds out, Grima shows some form of pity towards the end. Chrom appreciates having company for the end of the world.

read on ao3 or below the cut:

The world ends with a protracted death rattle. The sky burns, the sea rises, but none of it’s instantaneous. There’s time for a slow build, if there’s anyone left to look upon these wonders and despair. It’s not often, but the Fell Dragon can be generous.

Grima pins Chrom’s soon-to-be-corpse to the Grimleal altar, the red sky reflected on Falchion’s edge. “Don’t play coy,” he says through Robin’s lips. “I already know how much you love me.” Chrom grunts. Blood loss limits him to monosyllables.

Fingers that feel like talons trace the angles of Chrom’s jaw. “Come on,” Grima says. “Be honest about this. You’ve never lied to me before.”

Robin is Grima and Grima is Robin and Chrom has no secrets from either, though maybe he wishes he did. This is all too familiar; him with his back to the ground and Robin bent over him like a kind and loving god. Add in the gaping wound. Add in Grima’s simpering smile. The scene played better without all these complications.

Grima forces a leg between Chrom’s knees and kisses his waiting mouth, sucking face more like a teenager than a rebellious divine. It’s déjà vu on a macro level. Robin is Grima and Grima is Robin so of course the Fell Dragon knows the script from the first time they fucked. Chrom’s rabbit heartbeat, Robin tearing his clothes – yeah, this all seems about right.

“I still hate that you dress like this,” Grima says. The clasps designed to hold Chrom’s cape steady unfasten and roll off the edge of the altar. “We could never have a quickie when you take forty minutes to get undressed.” He unsheathes Robin’s stained Levin sword and slices the fabric open – gently, as if another cut would make a difference. Chrom’s head lolls sideways. Blood trickles from the side of his mouth.

True love is all this still giving him an erection.

Falchion clatters to the ground when his belt comes off, Grima working him out of his cotton cocoon. Slowly, gently, even lovingly. Robin’s fingers pausing to trace his scars.

“See?” Grima says, squeezing Chrom’s hard-on with Robin’s hand. “I told you. This body, you love it too much to bear.” It’s not that, Chrom wants to say. It’s Robin he loves; Robin with his thin smile and clever words and selfless devotion, Robin the person, not the shell. “Rrghgf,” he says, and then he’s lightheaded from doing that much.

It’s awful, but Grima’s – Robin’s – laugh still sounds like sunshine to him. Robin’s laugh, Robin’s lips, Robin’s bedroom eyes lined up in two rows of three. Gods. This is just so close to being romantic. Picture Robin with a regular face and both their bodies intact. While he’s at it, picture them both wearing rings.

Grima kisses down the length of Chrom’s chest, pressing his lips against Chrom’s mangled sternum. He comes up bloody, smiling. Chunks of entrails cling to his jawline where Chrom used to kiss him, and he’s still so lovely it hurts.

“He really did love you,” Grima says. He straddles Chrom just below where he killed him, grinds his hips down where Chrom is still whole. “You loved him too, right?” A bubble of blood pops by Chrom’s mouth. Yes, it says, I really did. I really do, still.

Besides the warm blood and stiff dick, Chrom might as well be a corpse. Or a sex doll. Whatever it is Grima’s hoping for here. With one foot in the grave he can’t touch Grima, can’t reach up and grab his hand/ass/thighs like Robin used to want. But he’s good enough, apparently, good enough for Grima to shed his coat like a butterfly shrugs off a chrysalis. One-to-one reenactment. Right down to unfurling his wings.

“Help me,” Grima tells him. Chrom can’t find a way to say no.

Grima’s wings, long and feathered, they frame Chrom’s body like a cage. He smiles. Chrom’s rabbit heart flutters. Then Grima’s frotting against him and peeling off Robin’s pants and yeah, Chrom remembers how it goes after this. They weren’t so desperate the last time this happened, but they weren’t so dead and doomed either. Accepting your mortality isn’t the worst way there is to get off.

Between all the blood and the sweat, they stick together wherever their skin happens to meet. Grima grinding down on Chrom’s cock and dragging his nails down Chrom’s chest, he makes Chrom waste some of his last cloying lifeforce on gasping for breath. Beneath him, Chrom wonders if his death or his orgasm will come first.

Maybe he almost gets there. Seconds away from blowing his load, and that’s when his heart finally stops. Edging on a grander scale.

Grima kisses him. Chrom forgets hypotheticals. Grima kisses him, and Chrom’s thrown back to a cold night in Regna Ferox with him and Robin cuddled for warmth, making excuses to get closer. Robin half-naked and framed in fur robes, asking Chrom if this is okay. Robin kissing him, and Chrom kissing back. This is like that, Gods forgive him. The Fell Dragon makes him remember first love.

“I wish you’d live through this,” Grima sighs into his mouth. “Imagine, me as your husband, you as my bride. Just the two of us, ruling this miserable planet together.” The question just seems cruel.

As if Chrom would hesitate to say yes.

With the sky like it is, the time is whatever anyone claims. Morning. Twilight. Noon. It’s all the same with the sun struck out, all apocalyptic vistas and swirling red clouds. In humanity’s final hours, everything becomes subjective.

This could be their wedding night.

Grima pulls back from Chrom to get a better angle, moaning and gasping with his teeth stained red. Naga’s blood on her worst enemy’s lips. Naga’s brand on the Fell Dragon’s altar. A marriage consummated by outright sacrilege.

Grima rides Chrom like the world is ending and tells him, “Robin wanted to see you wearing a ring.”

Gods forgive him, Chrom doesn’t even try to pull out.

His vision goes spotty when he comes. For a moment he thinks it’s the end, that blowing his load struck him down where blood loss did not. What a fucking way to go that would be. Emmeryn dies a martyr and he croaks mid-ejaculation.

It’s a shame that’s not how it goes. Really. He should have died hereafter, before reality comes in to kick off its shoes. Grima his red-eyed god rises from the altar with semen-streaked thighs. His wings trail behind him; the train for tonight’s wedding gown, more elegant than any white lace. Body fluids and molting feathers instead of silk or satin. Chrom’s mortal wound is a melting pot of all the above.

“You don’t have long, probably,” Grima says. “If only you could get out some last words.”

Chrom realizes, suddenly, there’s a question he still hasn’t asked.

“Robin,” he gurgles. That single word, it’s worth the Herculean effort it takes.

“Oh.” Grima’s six eyes narrow to slivers. “Him. It doesn’t matter, but he was watching.” And that’s it, that’s the ground pulled out from under Chrom and oblivion eating him whole.

Robin, Robin who he loves more than anything, Robin who he’s lost forever, Robin whose heart he’s just broken; Robin was there, Robin is there, and they were so fucking close to a fairytale ending. Put a different man in the driver’s seat. Dredge Robin up from the mind he’s been drowned in. Just give them a do-over with Robin in control, and forget the part where Chrom ever wanted anything else.

He starts to work up to ‘I’m sorry’, but the space beside him is already empty. Robin’s coat lies in a heap nearby on the floor.

On the edge of the Dragon’s Table, loverlooking a world on fire, the lord of the Grimleal spreads his wings.

#fe13 #fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #chrom #grima #robin (fire emblem)#writing

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beaconsardis · 3 years

Text

Night of Firsts and Lasts

I've given the crew port leave. It's been too long since I've let them stretch their legs and they were all showing the early signs of cabin fever.

Vaynai is not a planet I've visited before. It's a resort planet for families and for business looking to seal the deal with new clients. There's a single spaceport, located on one of the handful of mesas that poke out of the single ocean that covers the entire planet.

The crew scrambles off the ship and I only follow them as far as the Greemesa Market. It's a vacation destination, so the stalls are filled with distractions, entertainment and food. The prices are double what they should be, but with my mastery of the Force, I have never felt comfortable haggling. I buy two bowls of glaavyuk, four bottles of Endorian mead, and head back to the ship.

I relieve Fordsy of his guard duty. He insists he stay. Then he sees the two dinners I'm carrying. "I've gone longer than the recommended amount of time between shut downs," he admits. "Please reactivate me should something happen or we leave the planet."

Humaira's door opens with a beep and a whoosh. She's surprised to see me. I offer her one of the bowls of glaavyuk and nod for her to follow me. "Want some fresh air?"

We sit on the loading ramp of the Nexu, eating our spicy noodles and fish as we take in the oceanic panorama. We eat in silence, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves. Gulls caw overhead, circling us in the hopes we'll toss them some glaav.

"So what does a princess have to do to get a thirty thousand credit bounty put on her head?"

Humaira smiles. She knew this question was coming. "I was sacrificed on the altar of commercialism."

I'm not sure what that means, so I say, "I'm not sure what that means."

"What do you know about Cantonica," she asks.

I shake my head. I've got someone in Canto Bight, who keeps an eye out for purses that need pilfering, but I know little to nothing about the planet itself.

"We have a sister planet," she takes a sip of mead, "Bonadan. To show that there were no hard feelings about a business transaction that went sideways, I was given to Prince D'wonel."

"Given?" I don't like the sound of that.

"For his collection," Humaira nods matter-of-factly. "He had a harem of playthings from all across the galaxy. I didn't take too kindly to that, so on the night he called me to his chambers, I took a sword and stuck it so far into his stomach that I pinned him to the bed." She presents herself like the prestige of a magic trick, "thus the bounty."

I don't want to believe her. I want this to be a ruse, an act. I want her to by lying, trying to get on my good side so I'll think twice about collecting on her bounty. But she's telling the truth. She's as imperfect as anyone else, but the actual and complete victim here.

"Five hundred years ago this corner of the galaxy was given to a collection of corporations to govern and control, creating an oligarchical fiefdom of planets." Humaira spits every word with disgust. "Greed is their creed and life is cheap."

"What'll happen," I ask.

She doesn't respond. Her eyes are distant, disappearing into the rhythm of the waves. "They'll make a big show of it," she finally says, her voice as distant as her gaze. "Thanks for the final meal, I've never had glaavyuk before." Then, as almost an afterthought, "I've never been to the ocean before."

"That means you've never swam in the ocean before," I astutely realize.

"Never been in a body of water that wasn't manmade," she answers, finishing her mead.

"Well then let's make your last night a night of a couple of firsts, too." I stand and use the Force to whip the empty bottle of mead out of her hand. "Let's go."

I lead her down the ramp. We circle under and around the ship, walking the length of dock. With the ship between us and the rest of the port, I strip down to my undergarments. She follows my lead, slipping out of her dress and diving in behind me.

The water is warm and salty. The current gently flows around us. It's just shallow enough that we're able to touch the soft sand beneath us as each lolling wave sets us down.

Humaira laughs, a moment of natural joy washing over her. She lays down, floating on her back and letting the ebb and flow decide where she goes. She hums to herself, a peaceful smile sliding across her lips.

"So how do you make peace with being a Jedi and a pirate?" She opens one eye to see my reaction. "I thought Jedi were supposed to not have material possessions."

"It's actually really easy," I say, "I'm not a Jedi."

She sits up, splashing into a standing position. "What?"

"The Jedi Order was a religion," I explain, "and the Force is bigger than any church. It's universal. It flows through us and around us. It connects every living being to one another. It's like the tide of this ocean, pushing and pulling us and with the right practice, you can use it to your advantage."

Comparing it to the being caught in the current of a river or ocean is the best way I can think of to explain what it feels like to be me. I feel the flow of the Force so profoundly that I have to remind myself that others don't feel it at all.

"Sometimes I tell it what to do and sometimes it tells me what to do."

I can see the question forming. It's on her lips so I answer it before she voices it.

"I believe there is a great imbalance in the galaxy. The rich and powerful are only getting richer and more powerful while the poor and weak are only getting poorer and weaker. I'm trying to bring some balance to the galaxy by taking from the rich what they don't need and giving it to those who do." I present myself like the prestige of a magic trick, mirroring Humaira. "Hence the piracy."

"Can you mind control people?"

"I don't like to," I say uneasily.

"But you do."

"I can."

"So you do."

I frown. "I don't like taking away people's ability to choose, but," I admit, "there have been times when if a guard could just look over there for a second, I could get away."

"Could you convince your crew to just look over there so I could get away?" Humaira asks. There's a smile on her face, so she can claim she's joking, but the question is clearly sincere. "Or could you, I don't know, convince them to let me join the crew?"

"Join the crew?" I almost laugh. "What can you do?"

"Oh," she says very seriously, "I can fly circles around your best pilot."

She believes this. It's not up for debate with her. She is the best pilot she's ever known.

I nod back to the Nexu. "Show me."

Humaira sits down in the cockpit. She pulls her hair back and stabs one of the chopsticks from dinner in it.

"This is a Corellian freighter," she surmises. "YT series?"

"YT-2000," I nod.

Her eyes dance across the controls and then with a nod, she looks back at me. "Okay."

I couldn't convince a single person on my crew that this is a good idea. Handing over the pilot's seat to a prisoner who knows their life is over if they're turned in is the sort of thing I would never be able to explain to anyone, ever. But Humaira's intentions are pure. She just wants to show off. She wants to impress someone.

The Nexu lifts off the landing pad. But instead of nosing up and heading for the stars, Humaira keeps the ship low and punches it. We rocket out over the ocean, spraying water in our wake. She puts us into a spin before pulling back suddenly and sharply, sending us skyward. The timing on the maneuver is impressive.

She kills the engines, putting us into freefall. We plummet downward, going faster and faster as the planet pulls us down for a tight embrace. My stomach is in my mouth and my eyes are shut. She waits a second longer than I think she should before bringing the engines back to life and sending us straight for the horizon.

We're flying upside down, with the ocean above us and sky below. We bank a long, slow arc to the starboard, putting the resorts directly ahead of us.

"Oh no," I hear myself say as I realize she's about to get us into a lot of trouble.

Humaira laughs as she increases power to the thrusters. The resorts are coming up fast. They're too small and we're moving to fast for me to see them, but it's easy for me to imagine vacationers stopping what they're doing as they see a freighter barreling down on them. They turn to one another, wondering what they should do. Bomba chokes on whatever he's eating as he recognizes the foolhardy ship.

I watch in silence, in horror, and in amazement as Humaira weaves us through and around the resort's buildings and towers. We never come close to even grazing one of them. She is incomplete control. She is one with the ship.

Humaira points at me. "There it is. That's the face I was going for."

She sets us down on the landing pad and spins around in her chair to face me. She holds out her hands to ask, "well?"

I can't look her in the eye. "Thirty thousand credits is too much," I say. "They would mutiny."

Humaira sighs a long, low sigh. It's not the answer she wanted but it's the answer she expected. "I'll show myself back to my room."

"I'm sorry," I start to say, but then stop. A plan is starting to form. It's less than a plan. It's a thought, the vaguest of ideas.

Humaira is standing at the door, one foot out. She's looking down at me, an eyebrow cocked. I see the curiosity and desperation in her eyes.

"I think I have a terrible idea," I say.

#Vaynai #Humaira #Jedi #The Force #Cantonica #Corporate Sector #Nama Heh #South of Heaven's Chanting Mermaids #Into the Unknown #Star Wars #29 ABY

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