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arachine · 1 year

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— what's going on down there?: a dick analysis

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: jake sully, miles quaritch & norm spellman

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their human forms + avatar forms

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: talking about dicks obviously, explicit sexual content (?), humor lol

ᥫ᭡ note :: if you know anything about arachine, you know i love a good dick analysis. these posts are intended for comedic purposes only, which means they’re not to be taken seriously.

— jake “ima slut you out” sully

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: as we all know, jake’s life on earth was very unfulfilling. he was a man who sacrificed his legs for the fate of the country, only to be disposed of into the unforgiving hands of society, with no way to reap the benefits (or lack thereof) that veterans were promised to receive. and after losing the privilege of mobility, his body changed drastically. he got smaller, his body got weaker, and yet, one thing remained—that dick! jake is a survivor, through and through—his personal motto is: if it ain’t broken, then it’s still working—and boy, he does not disappoint when it comes to the downstairs department. standing tall at 7 inches, is little jake (maybe not so little). when flaccid, his length measures at a solid 5.7 inches. definitely a grower.

⟳ width: a little bit on the skinnier side, but he knows how to use it and that’s all that matters!

⟳ color: i think for the most part, his shaft definitely matches the rest of his body; though, i can see it maybe being slightly a little more darker at the base, like a very light beige. when he’s flaccid, his tip is a pretty pink, almost like a ballet slipper (aka the best pink). turns into an angry red when fully erect!

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: jake pegs me as the kinda guy who doesn’t really care? i mean, trimming isn’t foreign to him, because he has trimmed it before, and does so when he notices it’s gotten to be too long…but, i don’t think it’s something that he does often. to him, it’s just hair. he’s on his grown man shit, you know?

02. curved?: uhm, yes! you know that one beyoncé lyric? yeah.

03. any veins?: absolutely covered in ‘em

04. how he fucks with it: i’d like to think before his accident, he was a doggy style connoisseur—come on, it’s jake we’re talking about here. can’t nobody tell me otherwise! i just know he had bitches bent over, weaves sweated out, makeup all over the pillows…mans was f-u-c-k-i-n-g okay? fuckingggg.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: the masses may attack me, but it’s time i spoke up. the man has a monster schlong. a cooter cat killer, if you will. if you thought his human form was big, shit, you ain’t seen nothing yet! completely flaccid, his cock measures to about 10 inches. when fully hard, he grows an additional three! talk about impressive…

⟳ width: so thick that it basically slaps his thighs when he walks. the man could create a beat with it, get em into the soundcloud business now!

⟳ color: self explanatory tbh, it’s fucking blue. as blue as papa smurf’s ass.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that because he’s an avatar, he grows hair there. even if i’m wrong, i’m right. i don’t give a damn what james cameron says. he’s basically my character at this point, and i will him to have hair damnit! just…the idea of him having a full bush down there, in the wild, all primitive and shit…does something to me. idk. don’t ask me why i’m so nasty, blame my deadbeat father.

02. curved?: is a banana yellow? there’s your answer.

03. any veins?: i might have a brain aneurysm just thinking about it, but yes! god, yes. so many…so, so, so many. ribbed for her pleasure or whatever trojan said.

04. how he fucks with it: is he still the doggy style connoisseur? yes. but now that’s got the strength of 20 men, backshots sound a whole lot like gunshots now. they say every time the mighty toruk makto thrusts into a cunt, a tree falls down or something. so, yes. fucks hard, fucks rough, fucks like he’s on a mission. what’s that one tik tok audio? “rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, i dive in her cervix.” yeah, he lives by that.

— miles “on your knees, cadet!” quaritch

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: just gonna cut right to the chase. he’s huge. like pussy splitting huge. i don’t care what anyone says, you can argue with ya friend, you can argue with ya mother, but you cannot argue with me! coming in at a solid 6 when flaccid, quaritch takes the cake for the biggest cock on this list (at least, human form wise). at full length, he measures to about 7.8 inches!

‘booooo’ you say, well, guess what? it’s the truth, and i’m just the messenger. whether you hate him or love him, he’s just that guy.

⟳ width: surprisingly average. but it’s okay, sometimes you can’t have the best of both worlds.

⟳ color: if my memory serves me right, he was pretty tan in the first movie. so, i’m gonna stick with that and say that it’s a pretty tan that transitions into a pale pink. i don’t know if some of you have seen old dick, but their tips get less saturated with age. it’s a phenomenon (not really, the blood flow to the groin is just a lot slower, which can make it appear kind of gre—anyway, i digress!)

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: this man is a colonel, so he’s all about discipline and keeping things nice and tidy. so, obviously, his hygiene reflects that. i don’t think he goes completely bald, but he does give it a good trim. kind of like a fade…just imagine a patch of grey, prickly hair. yeah.

02. curved?: yes, and since he’s older, it’s probably curved a lot. you could probably hang something on it. maybe a towel, or a lanyard. it’s definitely useful for something!

03. any veins?: god, i don’t know why, but i have it in my head that he’s on steroids. he’s just so buff and strong, and i mean, yeah, he could just be really fit…but he could also be a self-image obsessed freak who takes drugs to be the perfect soldier. the correlation, you ask? well, i just feel like people who take steroids are really veiny, and i feel like his dick would be really, really veiny. so, thus the rant about steroids. steroid dick.

04. how he fucks with it: don’t let his age fool you. he may very well be pushing his late fifties, but he’s still a young man at heart—and he’s definitely got the sex drive to prove it! i can see his favorite position being something like missionary. not so much because he enjoys the intimacy of it (like being face to face), but more so because he’s got a size kink—and definitely a dacryphilia kink. he enjoys seeing his partners cry, whether in pain, or in pleasure, or both! so, when you’re fucking him, don’t expect anything romantic. he just wants to see your pretty little face all teary eyed and pathetic.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: so big you can see it from space; that’s how the RDA mfs know they’re close, because they can see the tip protruding from pandora. no, but seriously, it’s still really huge. like maybe 12-14 inches—maximum.

⟳ width: probably twice as thick as a human’s forearm. and god, it’s sooooo heavy. big breeding balls to match.

⟳ color: blue blue blue…like wet fun dip. with just as many stripes as the american flag or whatever.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: yes, but the hair is black instead of grey and it’s probably really straight because na’vi hair is straight as fuck.

02. curved?: sir, yes sir.

03. any veins?: what’d i say? steroid dick. but even worse (better) now bc he’s so damn tall, he needs all the blood he can get down there.

04. how he fucks with it: has you in all types of positions. his favorites are anything that shows off his new found strength, so i’m betting on full nelsons and mating presses. just fast, powerful strokes. lives by the motto: can’t stop, won’t stop.

— norm “what’s the sq root of 69?” spellman

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: i’m sorry to disappoint the norm fuckers (if there are any), but he’s not that big. when he’s soft, his cock measures to about 4.8 inches, and at most, 6.2 inches when hard.

⟳ width: skinny dick.

⟳ color: dawg he’s so white, it’s like hella pale and the tip is so pink that when he’s aroused, it looks like there’s something wrong.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: like jake, i don’t think he really cares.

02. curved?: straight like a pencil

03. any veins?: like two, and they’re really prominent because he’s so fucking pale.

04. how he fucks with it: i don’t think human norm is getting puss, let’s be real.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: i am a firm believer in N.W.B.C—nerds with big cocks. it’s just the universe’s way of saying thank you, they just…they just do so much for us, you know? norm may not have been packing down there in his human form, but this was his second chance at redemption. he’s now a proud member of N.W.B.C, sporting an impressive 15 inches. you know that one scene in the first spider-man when pete’s looking at himself in the mirror and he looks inside his briefs? yeah, that was norm when he found out. the man got so excited, he accidentally catapulted a scientist out of pandora’s atmosphere with the weight of his cock. joking.

⟳ width: on the skinnier side but still toe curling, nonetheless.

⟳ color: laffy taffy blue, with little (big) blueberry balls.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: no, he’s too busy in the lab and getting na’vi puss.

02. curved?: unfortunately no

03. any veins?: more than before, which he was pleasantly surprised to see.

04. how he fucks with it: norm’s got a big dick, but he acts so shy, like he’s scared of it or something. like stop playing boy and drop them drawls, the fuck? anyway, i think norm’s a sub. he pegs me as the type of guy who likes strong women, women who’ll tell him to shut the fuck up (because he talks so much) and eat their pussies. i guess this makes him a munch. yeah, he’s a munch. ice spice actually wrote that song with him in mind!

#jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #miles quaritch smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water smut #atwow x reader #atwow smut

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eddiemuonson · 6 months

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I will be your fool

Summary: You are friends with Steve, who is about to perform for the very first time. You find yourself feeling jealous of him, not knowing he has a hold of you. He wrote "Fool" when he was thinking about you, though.

Note: This is based on DJO. I might have been obsessing over him and his music lately.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex. p in v. oral sex (f receiving) + 18 DNI

Word count: 2.6k

Sitting next to Robin at The Hideout, you both watch as Steve rehearsed for his first concert. After graduating, he decided to devote himself to a musical career.

He adopted the alter ego "STV" (Steve, but without the vowels) and formed an indie band that gained notoriety before their first official concert. He even decided to use another persona as well.

Steve was being supported by Eddie, because the metalhead was part of a band that had performed at the same venue.

He was sitting on the edge of the stage, strumming a few notes of his song "Climax".

As you and Robin sat on the chairs near the stage, you watched him intently.

"How's the sound over there?" he asked, waiting for feedback from both of you.

Robin gave him a thumbs up.

"Terrible, this is awful. It sounds like a cat being beaten" You replied, laughing as you watched him flip you the middle finger.

"Remind me to never call you to a rehearsal again, jerk" He replied.

The three of you laughed, and not long after he finished the rehearsal, he approached the two of you. Steve was sipping water from a bottle after coming down from the stage.

"So, overall?" he nervously asked. It was no surprise; it would be his first performance.

You and your friend smiled at each other; it was just what he needed.

"That's great, dingus. You're going to do great!" She squeezed her friend's shoulder, her smile wide and open.

He looked at you, waiting for your answer.

"She's right, it's gonna work out!" You smiled too. Steve let out a sigh of relief.

He rehearsed with his bandmates before setting up the stage for the big moment.

Eddie came later on to offer his friend advice and moral support. As a veteran of the place, he found it easier to deal with moments like that.

Besides Robin, your group of friends were there, including Dustin who wouldn't miss the performance of one of his best friends.

Steve had asked both of you to stand on the side of the stage, but you both decided to watch him from the crowd instead so that he could look at you both and feel less nervous.

When the band was announced, everyone applauded including the students from Hawkins High. He showed up in a white jumpsuit, Nike sneakers, a wig, a questionable mustache, and sunglasses.

The resemblance to Steve was almost imperceptible, except for the voice.

The band started the concert with "I Want Your Video". It was the first time you heard him play his music live. He wanted to leave the "first-time" experience as a surprise.

As the first two songs came to an end, more people started to arrive at the venue. The room was filled with the sound of applause, and Steve had a smile on his face. You could tell he had been looking at you and your group of friends for the entire time.

His music had a hint of psychedelia along with synth instrumentals, auto-tune, and drone chords.

You couldn't resist when your friend sang "Go For It." His voice was admired by you and many girls. But something unrecognizable bothered you. Was it jealousy?

Were you jealous of having to "share" your friend with other girls?

Robin was the only one who knew that "Fool" had a meaning for him, especially after he dedicated it to her.

Steve moved closer to the microphone as "Figure You Out" began to play.

"This is for my dear friend, Y/N. Thank you so much for helping me with this song" He crouched in front of you and handed you the guitar pick he used during the entire concert.

He stood up and grabbed another guitar pick from the mic stand. Your friends were elated and may have commented about it, but you were caught off guard.

Robin sang along to the song with her arm wrapped around your neck. At that moment, you tried to pay attention to the rest of the concert, but his words lingered in your mind.

Deep down, something between the two of you was different, but you never really realized it before. Maybe you needed to find out about it later.

Steve's husky voice brought a unique essence to his brilliant performance, surprising the crowd with his guitar solos. He was completely ecstatic with the audience's reception.

It seemed like the concert had gone well, as the band received a standing ovation at the end, while Eddie celebrated his friend's success from the corner of the stage.

Steve had already changed his clothes and removed his wig and mustache before arriving at the bar. As soon as he got there, he was surrounded by his friends who hugged him and touched him everywhere. The amount of affection he received caused his hair to tangle.

As he approached you and Robin, he wrapped both arms around both of you and pulled you both in for a hug. It was surprising how the combination of his sweat and cologne made you feel dizzy.

Your nose was pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Holy shit, dingus! That was amazing!" She celebrated as soon as she let go of her friend's arms.

"Steve, you definitely killed it!" Your voice was a little slurred. Clearing your throat, you disguised so he wouldn't notice.

The boy was smiling too much, he was happy and proud of himself.

Before letting him respond, you narrowed your eyes and sipped your drink. "What's that about me helping you with your music?"

He widened his eyes, taken aback, and looked at his friend in confusion. She shrugged and muttered, "I'll leave you two alone."

He cleared his throat, fixed his hair, and then looked at you.

"I'll tell you later. There's a lot of noise here, a lot of people. I prefer a quieter place," he explained, turning to ask the bartender for a beer.

Steve looked at you again, smiling, and you nodded.

After he was greeted by your group of friends, no one else welcomed him besides a blonde girl who seemed to be overly intrigued. She examined him from top to bottom and even went as far as kissing him on the cheek.

You kept your eyes on her as she whispered something in his ear.

He could talk to anyone, but why did it affect you? No clear explanation.

The two of them talked for about a minute, then she gave him a subtle smile and left.

Steve turned around and downed the beer, causing you to raise your eyebrow. You waited for your friend to explain, but all he did was laugh and lower his head. "What is it, Harrington?"

He looked provocative as he said, "You can't hide it, can you?" The boy left his beer on the bar counter and approached you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hide what, Steve?” You held your own breath as you saw him get closer.

He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "You feel jealous when someone gets close."

You tried to steady yourself on the stool, feeling your legs wobble. "Me, jealous of you, Steve? We're friends," you said.

It was clear that Steve had a hold on you, as you felt repulsed by any girl who came too close. Despite your efforts to resist, he laughed in your ear, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end. You couldn't help but feel weak for him.

As he placed his large hand on your face, you could feel the roughness of his calloused fingers, a result of his guitar playing.

The sensation heightened your senses, and your body was filled with restlessness. "We are friends, but why do our bodies seem to crave each other's touch?" He traced his lips down your cheek until he reached your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to respond and he kissed you passionately.

His tongue hits yours with pressure and need, pulling your body closer, like a magnet. Your hands wrapped around his neck and Steve pulled you by the waist with his other hand.

The background music and the noise of people talking seemed to fade away, and time appeared to stand still at that moment.

The way he held you showed his desperation for you, but the kiss remained gentle and calm. He held your lip between his teeth, causing a muffled moan to escape from your mouth.

You abandoned your friends back at the venue and arrived at Steve's house. The idea to go there was yours, not his. Steve insisted that he wouldn't do anything without your consent, which triggered a strong reaction inside you.

As soon as you got inside his bedroom, he pushed you towards his mattress and watched as you fell with bliss in your eyes. He laid on top of you, spreading kisses all over your neck, both of his hands wandering through your exposed skin.

His rough fingers were pressing against your thighs as he rode up the hem of your dress a little.

“God, I’ve been expecting this for so long” He grumbled against your chest. You were quickly panting as you could barely control your breathing.

Steve quickly spread both of your legs, pulling a sigh from your throat. He used both hands to remove the piece of lace panties that matched the color of your dress: black. The boy kissed your breasts covered in fabric and your stomach.

When he got close to your cunt, he looked at you with lust. Your eyes glistened as you looked at him. You lay down, and he pulled you to the edge of the bed, still looking at you.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this” He whispered. Steve couldn't handle his own lust, but he would like to give you something he had wanted for a long time.

He gently moved your legs apart and slowly dipped his mouth into your clit, sucking lightly on your button, eliciting a grunt from your mouth. “Steve” You almost sobbed.

The boy used the tip of his tongue through your slit, keeping his pace as he reached your hole. He licked you greedily, savoring your taste, murmuring in pleasure. It had barely started and it was already making you dizzy with so much pleasure.

Your breathing was uneven and your legs were already weak. Steve rested one of his hands on your thigh, digging his nails into the skin, leaving marks on it. He used another hand and pressed his thumb on your clit, feeling as you arched your back.

He kept the movements light and slow, taking advantage of every inch of your skin, leaving long licks on your cunt. When you felt him insert the tip of his tongue inside you, you groaned loudly, gripping his hair.

He was going crazy as you mumbled disjointed words and rolled your hips into his face. Steve was loving it.

His finger circled against your clit, while his tongue thrust in and out of you, making you whimper. You were about to hit your orgasm if he didn't stop. Pulling the strands of his hair, you rocked your hips against him hard, and Steve got the message.

He removed himself from you, placing a light kiss on your most sensitive spot, looking back at you. His face was glistening from your juices, his lips were red and swollen, and his eyes were flickering with pleasure.

He leaned forward for a more intense kiss, swirling his tongue against yours, teeth clashing with yours. With one hand, he pulled the strap of your dress down, watching your breasts bounce out. Still kissing you, he cupped one of your tits with his hand and rubbed your nipple.

The kiss started to get sloppy as soon as you started moaning against his mouth and Steve undressed quickly, getting rid of his boxers soon after. He really wanted to fuck you, but you took his cock with your delicate hand, pumping him with lust.

The tip of his cock was already red and swollen, practically leaking with precum. You spread it all over his length, until you reached the base. Steve grunted into the kiss and you smirked against his mouth. It felt good to be the one in control.

But he couldn't take it anymore so he broke the contact, leaving you on all fours for him. You looked over your shoulder to glance at him and you felt a knot in your stomach. This had become a moment of lubrication you both wanted to enjoy.

He arranged himself behind you, resting one hand on his cock, while the other rested on your ass. Steve slid his shaft in a slow, painful motion across your clit before burying his length inside you.

You both hissed when you felt each other. He was thick, and you were too tight. The sensation sent Steve into a frenzy as he thrust further in and hit your cervix. “Holy shit, you’re so tight. And so wet” He murmured.

You felt his balls hit your ass and you rolled against his dick, watching him twitch with excitement. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

As soon as he settled inside you, Steve began to thrust hard and fast, gripping the bands of your ass with his calloused hands. The air in the room was thin, stuffy, and your moans were echoing in sync.

“Yes, Steve” You whimpered, feeling the tip of his cock hit against your most sensitive spot.

He murmured disjointed words while resting his body on your back. He kept his chin resting on your shoulder as you felt his breath hit your ear.

Yes, it was the most exciting thing you had ever felt in your entire life.

“You’re all wet for me, aren’t you?” He whispered and you couldn't reason out a response. “God, your pussy is taking me so well.”

You didn’t have time to rest your elbows on the mattress as Steve used two fingers to rub your clit.

In an involuntary movement, you rolled faster against him, trying to feel his entire length inside you. Your head was down, also resting on the mattress. You could barely breathe.

“Fuck-” He growled into your ear and your stomach sinked. The more his dick pounded inside you, the more your skin burned with desire for him.

His fingers’ moves became faster, your body responded too well to his touch. A shiver ran through your body, before the orgasm hit you. Your fingers curled, your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, and your breath hitched.

He pounded against your cervix until you came for him and moaned his name.

Soon after, he collapsed on top of you, reaching his own orgasm, cumming inside you. His warm liquid enveloped your hole completely, as you felt his cock pulse inside you in a moment of pure ecstasy.

After you both cleaned up, he lay down next to you, wearing comfortable sweatpants. It was the first time you were staring at his naked body like that, and the countless moles spread across his skin were irresistible.

As Steve leaned against the headboard of the bed, he gazed at you with tenderness, softly stroking your face.

"I mentioned that song earlier because, at different times, you've helped me figure out who I really am," he explained.

You repeated his gesture and rested a hand on his chest. "Steve Harrington, you are wonderful."

He smiled at the compliment, pulling your body closer to his. “I will be your fool” He hummed, watching you look at him curiously.

“Steve…” You started to speak and he kissed the top of your head. "You don't…"

He shrugged, not caring if you knew you inspired his song.

“You never stop looking at me anyway” Steve continued, ignoring your surprised face. He pulled you into another kiss, this time it was more tender.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #userashe

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willowworkswithwords · 3 months

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Steve receives love the way he gives it and doesn’t know what to do with himself.

so i was going through my drafts folder because i'm thinking it's time to dip my foot back into the fic writing pool, and I found this collection of snippets and ideas that all stemmed from this post from @rogueddie. I thought about maybe elaborating on some of these, but I also wanted to share because I really enjoyed this idea. I also think I may have posted about this a long while back, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the whole thing.

-Future -> uses a pen like a sorta-stylus to hit each of his computer keys sometimes. Eddie figures out it’s because the keys don’t have enough physical separation between them (they’re so shallow) and it sometimes messes with his eyes [is this a feasible vision issue he might have??] so Eddie buys him an “old fashioned” keyboard with the big keys, one of the big colorful trendy ones.

-Eddie and Wayne keep the foods he like, foods he’ll always eat no matter what. Eddie notices that he’ll never ask for any special foods when Wayne makes the grocery list (when he moves in with them) so he starts being sneaky and goes on a recon mission a.k.a. asking Robin, Nancy, and the kids what he likes. Since Steve also loves to cook, Eddie looks through his cookbooks and recipe box and finds the ones with notes on them and him and Wayne practice how to make them

“Hey Wayne?”

“Yeah?” Wayne calls from the couch, beer in hand and the game on.

Steve steps out from the kitchen, box of tea in hand.

“Where’d this come from?”

Wayne doesn’t turn around.

“What is it?”

“Uh, the tea?”

“Picked that up for you the other day, since you were saying you like it better than coffee sometimes.”

“Yeah but… you and Eddie don’t like tea?”

He doesn’t know why he says it like a question.

Wayne tilts his head against the back of the couch, craning it to look at Steve in a way that’s so reminiscent of Eddie it makes Steve smile a little.

“You do, though.”

-Right before Steve moves in, when he’s an anxious mess because his parents are coming back but he doesn’t realize he’s anxious for that reason, he starts hiding little bits of his stuff in the trailer, mostly in Eddie’s room and around the kitchen. This puzzles Eddie but Wayne thinks it’s like Steve’s trying to expel his energy in a not-so-productive way, though there are worse ways. So, Wayne starts asking Steve to help more around the house, but especially with repairs bc they found out that Steve knew a lot about repair.

Steve’s been around a lot. Wayne sees his pile of folded bedding tucked behind the couch, and sometimes he sees the Beemer leaving the trailer park as he comes up the road from the plant. During daylight hours, when Steve comes by to help Eddie or brings the kids over or stays for dinner, he shows almost no signs of anything being wrong.

But Wayne is a combat veteran. It’s been a long time for him, but he hasn’t forgotten, and he never will. He knows his nephew went through war, and that Steve was right alongside him. From what Wayne has gathered, Steve had been in that war for a few years, and had been dealing with the ups-and-downs for two years before Eddie ever knew about it.

It hurts Wayne deeply, to see the children (because that’s what they are—as he and all his comrades had been) endure the aftermath. So he sees when Steve flinches, when he clenches his fists, when he holds his breath and makes himself breathe evenly.

Tonight is the least in-control he’s ever seen Steve.

He’s over for dinner again. All three of them are in the living room, a baseball game on, much to Eddie’s long-suffering sighs.

-Steve will make his opinion known about arbitrary stuff like movies and music, but if it’s been a Bad Day or a Bad Time, and he does, and Eddie reacts to it in a way Steve sees as criticism, he will then defer everything to Eddie to a frustrating degree. Eddie finds out that when it comes to their relationship, not any other relationship Steve has, Steve is extremely afraid of screwing it up so he thinks that means he should let Eddie call all the shots.

-Eddie memorizes Steve’s orders at restaurants

-Eddie sews Steve’s clothes without Steve ever realizing

The sun is just peaking through the windows of the trailer on a Thursday morning when Eddie gets to work. Steve, when exhausted, will sleep through just about anything, and the week had been a long one. Eddie had the opposite problem, finding little respite even curled around Steve. So, the early morning found him gathering up Steve’s clothes and taking them out to the front porch of the trailer.

Already out there on the side table was his sewing kit, spools of thread and thimbles neat and ready. Already out there on the couch was Wayne, sipping his morning post-work coffee and looking out over the misty park.

Without a word, Eddie settled onto his end of the couch, knees pulled up, and grabbed one of Steve’s jeans. There was a rip along the inseam, and Eddie took to it with steady persistence. After the jeans were shirts and three sweatshirts. Stitch after stitch after stitch, and soon Steve wasn’t left with a single hole in all his wardrobe.

“He still hasn’t figured it out yet?” Wayne asks, grinning into his coffee.

“Nope. I’ve almost convinced him of the existence of brownies.”

Wayne barks a laugh and Eddie smiles down at the last rip he’s fixing, laughing with his uncle. Steve has been with them for a month and is just now finally easing up, finally letting them both in—for the big and small. Noticing Steve get frustrated with all the holes in his clothes was the least Eddie could do for him, and if it warms him from the inside out when Steve excitedly rustles through his pile of clothes and realizes they’re all perfectly wearable, well. That was just a plus.

-Eddie compliments Steve on his personality and who he is more than what he does, because especially in the first couple years after Vecna, while both of their bodies are still healing, Steve feels a lot of guilt about not being able to do all the things he used to be able to do to the same degree. Even once he’s healed and starts being able to be physical like he used to, Eddie knows Steve equates his value with his service, and tries to help him realize that he is so much more.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson is a good uncle #wayne munson cares very much about eddie and about steve #wayne munson is an excellent ally #and excellent uncle #eddie loves steve so much #and he tries so hard to help steve see that #acts of service #speaking in your partner's love language #speaking other people's love languages as the secret sixth love language #willow writes #my fic #willow talks

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maplebellsmods · 11 months

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Nursing Home Mod

Get ready for new gameplay for the elder life stage. Now your Sims can make the tough decisions when it comes to their elder. Say goodbye to the days of worrying about your elders' well-being, because nursing homes are now a viable option for their care.

This mod will need to tap into your sims imagination because I didn't want to make it too invasive. So when you believe your elders need specialized support, it's time to explore the world of nursing homes. This mod lets you dive into a variety of options, each with its own unique vibe, price, and perks. Whether you're looking for a swanky senior living community or a cozy, nurturing atmosphere, three options will be available. You can start by taking a look at the different nursing home options.

There are a few ways to go about sending you elder away to the nursing home. First of all, you can fill out an interest form and you will receive a call from a representative.

There are three nursing homes to choose from:

Green Tea Home Care - $1,250 simoleons a week

Du Pondersoa - $4,000 simoleonsa week

Desert Palms - $10,000 simoleons a week

Nursing Home Order

If you decide a nursing home would be the best option for your elder sim the next steps would be to, get an order from the physician. You can do this by scheduling a meeting with the physician. Once your sim is at the meeting they will be able to choose from a wide list of symptoms the elder may have. Now this is where you will use your imagination and pick the option that would fit best with your game.

Your sim may also really want to send the elder to a nursing home, for reasons that may or may not be malicious. They have the option to bribe the physician for pretty large sum of money. This could make the physician lean more toward giving your sim the nursing home order.

If the nursing home order hasn't been issued, but this was not the outcome you wanted you should read the section below. But, if the nursing home order has been issued you can move on to the next step. (Keep in mind these steps are not dependent on one another. You can do them in any order you would like.)

Finances

Finances are an important part of figuring out how your sim will pay for the nursing home. There are three options to choose from:

Medicare: You will qualify for Medicare if your household funds are under 30,000 simoleons

VA Benefits: If your sim was a veteran they will be applied to apply for this (There aren't any actual conditions for it because this would make strangerville a requirement for the mod and elders who you created and have no history wouldn't qualify even if you imagined this history for them.)

Self Pay/Private Pay: Self Explanatory

Permission

Finally, you will need to get permission from the elders themselves because you cannot just force them into a nursing home against their will... unless they aren't able to make that decision anymore based on their mental health. In that case, you would need documentation from the health care provider letting the nursing home know that the elder is unable to make these decisions on their own and will need assistance.

But if you don't have this document you will need to ask for permission. You will get different responses from doing this. Ranging from positive to negative.

After you've completed all of the necessary steps you can submit your application and will soon receive a response from the nursing home.

After you, the nursing home will call your sim and let them know about the outcome. Then your sim will finally be able to send the elder to the nursing home. When you send them away make you are ready because the first payment is deducted immediately after they are admitted.

After that you will automatically pay every week, based on your financing and nursing home option the payments will differ.

Your sims can visit the elder during specific visiting hours and they may all feel different about seeing their loved one in a nursing home.

If your sim does change their mind about the nursing home they can withdraw the elder. They will return home. This would be useful in cases where your sim cannot pay any more, want to explore the other options or just misses them.

Does this mod require any DLC?

No, it does not.

What else do I need for the mod?

Lumpinou's Mood Pack Mod, so it is required for the mod to work properly.

You can get her mod here.

If you already have it great! But make sure it's up to date.

Questions and concerns you might have?

I didn't get the nursing home order

If you didn't get a nursing home order, you can wait 24 hours for the results to reset, and then try again you may get a nursing home order.

The elder keeps refusing the nursing home request

You have to wait a few hours before the interaction shows up again. But another household member can also ask and maybe the elder will be more willing to listen to them.

I don't want to ask for permission

If you don't want to ask for permission then make sure you select, the "memory loss or confusion" option when the doctor asks you for symptoms.

I'm being charged twice

Make sure you only select ONE payment option. If you choose something you regret you can withdraw the elder from the nursing home. Another option is if you have mc command center you can use cheats to remove the buff where you chose the financing option.

Some of this information is inaccurate

I was trying to be somewhat close to how it goes in real life, I did a lot of research about this and made the decisions I thought would suit the game best. I still may have gotten some stuff wrong and I apologize if I did.

I'm experiencing some weird bugs!

Let me know, please.

Report it here: Mod Bug Report

Public: 18/06/23

Download: Here

#the sims 4 #thesims4 #sims 4 mods #the sims cc #ts4 #sims 4 edit #ts4cc #sims 4 cc #ts4 mod #ts4 mods #mycc #ts4 download

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rippleberries · 6 days

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I'm 99% sure this is the role that got Jeffrey Combs cast as Herbert West.

He frequently tells the story that a casting director approached him for the role after seeing him perform a similar character in a play. Based on the date of this article and the description and appearance of Jeffrey's character, this must be it.

LA Weekly [Los Angeles, CA], 13, September 1984, p. 114

[BEGIN IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION]

PICK OF THE WEEK

PVT. WARS

James McClure's play about three men in a veterans' hospital receives a near- flawless production under John C. Fletcher's impeccable direction. Though the play's three characters are survivors of Vietnam, this story has nothing to say about that war, or even about the nature of man and his military, other than the vague sanctioning of an individual's right to fight "private wars" of conscience. Rather, the emphasis is upon one of theater's most enduring situations, the heterosexual male triangle. Woodruff Gately is a hick grunt who now spends his time putting together a radio while two other patients vie for his attention and loyalty: Silvio, an Italian-American emasculated by shrapnel, and Natwick, a prissy rich kid hated by everyone but the affable Gately. Silvio's main form of recreation is flashing his nonexistent genitals to the nurses; Natwick's grasping for poetry leads him to a pathetic evening of failed suicide attempts. Both men make Gately's task infinitely more difficult by secretly stealing pieces from his radio, partly to assert their "superiority" over him, partly to insure his stay at the hospital.

Originally written as a one-act, McClure has expanded - and somewhat overextended - his play to two acts, using a lot of blackouts that fail to tighten the dramatic thread as they progress. It's a simple script with a pat metaphor (the radio as Gately's attempt to construct order in a fragmented world), but with enough. sincerity and concern for its characters to overcome its deficiencies. Gregory Grove is touching without being sappy as Gately, Tony Campisi wonderfully vulnerable as the blustering Silvio, and Jeffery Combs is perfectly brittle as the unpopular prig Natwick. Together the three reveal moments that are both refreshingly sad and funny in their depiction of men whose overriding need is to be heard by other men. Zephyr Theater, 7456 Melrose Ave., W. Hlywd.; Thurs.-Sun., 8 p.m.; thru Oct. 7. Call 851-3771. -Steven Mikulan

[END IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION]

#jeffrey combs #herbert west #private wars #natwick #james mclure #newspaper article #it is weyounsday my dudes

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alienpossession · 6 months

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Pagon Prologue: American Against Russia

Read the second part, which is linked to the first part here

The AAR or American Against Russia formed organically as a response towards Russian increasing threat to the global environment.

These men, mosly constituted of war veterans, active police officers and even private military contractors usually gathered per local chapters once a month in full and discussed about any intel they received on the conflict that Russian waged across the globe and the possible infiltration of Russian spies to US soil. They of course didn't expect that the spies that they should've been more worried about came thousand of light years away and can pose as anyone undetected, lurking among them and looking like your typical American redneck, even exactly copying your trusted neighbor or best friend from childhood

They can even posed as your own blood relatives and you wouldn't even notice the difference because they utilized the real one's memories to trick you

The local Wyoming chapter of American Against Russia has been infiltrated by Skrulls that pledged their allegiance to Gravik and Pagon causes. And the initiation night of their latest new member this month involved a totally different procedure from their usual one as Chase Hansen found himself handcuffed by the people he called brothers and already heard the stories on how Chase's grandfather fought the Russian in Afghanistan back when they were still named Soviet Union. Chase, a former Marine, fought his hardest to break himself free, but the handcuff proven to be unbreakable.

None of the guys even sided with him as the three top dogs of the Wyoming local chapter proven to be working against him too, saying some cryptic message about how Chase would be the perfect Trojan horse as his other 8 brothers joined their respective local chapters of AAR and the brothers would gather for the festive Thanksgiving later this month.

During that eventful day, Chase would put all their brothers to the pod and swapped them with loyal Skrull fighters that will spread among the rank of AAR across the local chapters in the nation, where they will eventually consolidate their power and emboldened their action from mere data gathering to a full-blown attack to destabilize Russian, and in turns, global geopolitical condition. And it's all going to be started from the Hansen boys

#alien possession #male possession #alien expansion #alien shapeshift #the pagon prologue

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homestuckpolyswap · 23 days

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What IS Polyswap? How does it work?

Consider this a quick & dirty overview of what Polyswap is for all the newcomers... just in case you veterans wanted to include someone fresh but weren't sure how to pitch!

[By the way... A polyship is any configuration of characters totaling three... or more!]

POLYSWAP: SIMPLIFIED

Polyswap, or the Polyamorous Ship Swap, is a Homestuck-specific event localized to AO3. That means it is hosted on the website Archive Of Our Own dot ORG. This event focuses on "gifting" and "receiving" anonymous creations with polyships in mind.

Event participants can choose from two subcategories, the ALL-AGES Prospit with a rating cap of T, or the ALL-RATINGS Derse where everyone is 18+ and stuff can get freaky. When you join Derse or Prospit [or BOTH], you will write out three-to-six prompts for three-to-six different polyships you want to see more Stuff for. Then, you write up an offer which dictates the kind of things YOU want to make stuff about.

Your requests are then matched to someone who offered things similar to what you're seeking, while YOU are matched to someone else's requests to create wondrous fanworks all about their super awesome ship ideas. Everyone only HAS to fulfill one prompt... but you could fulfill more if your giftee has really good ideas.

All of this takes place under the cover of anonymity, very hush-hush. Then, at the very end, gifters are revealed and you're able to celebrate the folks who made your favorite new polyship fanworks! What a thrill!

There are some rules and expectations, because of course there are. It's an event, you see. We'll be posting a bit about that soon. Stay alert!

[And if you're new to AO3, we'll be posting a simple guide for signing up / participating soon as well.]

#homestuck polyswap #homestuck event #polyswap 2024

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diogxnxs · 4 months

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Donald Duck suffering from PTSD was in fact already made into an official comic years back.

It is a product of its time, so I had to censor the slurs that were considered normal then. It's dark humor given what people were going through at the time. It didn't help that the victory in Europe overshadowed the war in the pacific that was still ongoing when they were already celebrating. It's quite symbolical that Donald was stationed there because despite his number 1 status during WW2 Era as a man duck soldiers could relate to, his popularity would eventually wane in the US during the peace time, overtaken by Mickey Mouse. And, as the comics go, he's not been having a perfect time in Duckburg either as seen in The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros written by Don Rosa who too is a Three Caballeros fan. All of Rosa's stories were set around the 1950s, post-war era.

Our poor veteran war hero cannot catch a break. Not only did he face the horrors of a war where no man can ever come out normal but Duckburg in the post-war era wasn't that kind in the treatment of our US Veteran either. Another sad part is that Military Medicine regarding PTSD was fairly new in this era. It was first called "Shell Shock" or "Old Sargeant's Disease." Eventually, it was referred to as "Combat Stress Reaction" (CSR) during WWII but colloquially it was referred to as "battle fatigue." They didn't even think it was a real thing until the numbers started showing. Initially, people thought that those who suffered from it were those who weren't made of "hard stuff" but even the toughest of men would suffer in that war. This led to a completely different outlook. Treatment for it back then wasn't that developed either and adjusting to civilian life after living in a state of conflict for so long is difficult. Despite this, Donald was able to raise three kids on his own and live a fairly normal high-functioning life taking on various jobs from being a sailor again to even being a policeman. (Or a superhero. Yeah. That one counts too) Donald Duck serves as a great symbol of hope and grit for the good that can still be had in life in spite of the troubles we've experienced. Because if this white duck can bounce back, so can you.

Some Sources: History of PTSD in Veterans: Civil War to DSM-5 WWII Post Traumatic Stress Posttraumatic stress disorder and the World War II veteran Duck and Cover: Donald’s World War II Short Subjects Donald Duck Received Official Discharge Papers from the Defense Department

#WW2 Donald Duck #Donald Duck #Duck Comics #Disney #PTSD #WW2 #Duckverse #Ducktales #Thoughts #World War 2 #The Mag 7 - 4 Caballeros Comic holds a special place in my heart because it comes to show what being surrounded by support and love does.#WW2 and Post-War Era is my favorite Donald Duck to explore.#There's just so much you can do with it.

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mariacallous · 2 months

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(JTA) — The Jewish French-Moroccan journalist Ruth Elkrief — who has delivered TV news in France for over 30 years — found herself at the center of the story when she was placed under police protection in December.

Elkrief received the security detail after an online attack from the far-left politician Jean-Luc Mélenchon. In a post on X, formerly Twitter, Mélenchon charged her with hatred against Muslims after she challenged one of his colleagues during an on-air interview about the Israel-Hamas war.

“Ruth Elkrief. Manipulator. If we don’t insult Muslims, this fanatic is outraged,” Mélenchon said of the journalist, adding that she “reduces all political life to her contempt for Muslims.”

Mélenchon, leader of the far-left party La France Insoumise, known as LFI or, in English, France Unbowed, posted his comments moments after Elkrief conducted a heated interview with LFI lawmaker Manuel Bompard on her TV channel, La Chaîne Info, on Dec. 3. Elkrief asked Bompard about his party’s refusal to condemn Hamas and its characterization of the militants as “resistance fighters” after their Oct. 7 attacks on Israel. She also asked about the party leaders’ decision to describe Israel’s war in Gaza as a “genocide,” and whether this language might provoke civil unrest in France.

In response, Bompard referenced warnings from the United Nations that the Palestinian people were at risk of genocide without a ceasefire in the Israel-Hamas war. Elkrief in turn quoted the French historian Vincent Duclert, who has said of Gaza’s high death toll, “Even a frightening humanitarian situation is not enough to qualify as genocide.”

Elkrief, who says she “came out” as Jewish to her viewers after Oct. 7, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that she merely did her job of debating an interviewee and dismissed Mélenchon’s accusation of Islamophobia. According to Elkrief, she was challenging the positions of France’s far-left political class — not French Muslims, whom she does not believe to be well represented by LFI even though nearly 70% of them voted for the party in the 2022 national elections.

“Most French Muslims don’t support Hamas and they don’t support all these catastrophes,” she said. “They can of course fight for a Palestinian state — and I agree with that — but they are not agreeing with Hamas and terrorism.”

Nonetheless, Mélenchon’s charge prompted a wave of threats against the Jewish journalist and raised an alarm for French Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin. Darminin said he decided to provide police protection because Mélenchon “put a target on the back of Ruth Elkrief, who already faced many threats as a journalist [and] was just doing her job.”

The government was on high alert for domestic attacks responding to the Israel-Hamas war. Mélenchon’s statement came the day after a knife-wielding man killed a German tourist and injured two others near the Eiffel Tower, telling police he was angry about the fate of Gaza and “so many Muslims dying in Afghanistan and in Palestine.”

While it’s typical for domestic attacks to increase in France during conflicts in Israel and the Palestinian territories, a recent surge in antisemitism has been especially pronounced. Darmanin reported over 1,500 antisemitic incidents in the six weeks after Oct. 7 — a three-fold increase from the total documented in all of 2022 — including desecrated Jewish graves and the stabbing of a Jewish woman in Lyon whose door was marked with a swastika.

Whether or not Mélenchon planned for an antisemitic backlash against Elkrief, his choice of language on X was loaded, according to Dorian Bell, a professor researching France’s history of race and antisemitism at the University of California, Santa Cruz.

“To accuse a Jewish member of the media of ‘manipulation’ arguably draws on long-standing antisemitic tropes about Jewish control of the media,” Bell told JTA.

Mélenchon’s words landed in the middle of a polarizing fallout from the Israel-Hamas War in France, home to one of the largest Muslim populations in Europe (about 5 million) and the world’s third-largest Jewish community after Israel and the United States (about 500,000).

French authorities met the wave of antisemitic incidents with a crackdown on pro-Palestinian rallies. Darminin attempted to impose a blanket ban on demonstrations denouncing Israel’s military campaign, which he declared “likely to generate disturbances to public order.” Although the ban was overturned, local authorities can still block protests on a case-by-case basis, prompting an outcry from some French citizens who accuse the government of suppressing free expression in support of Palestinians.

France’s Jews and Muslims have both experienced a painful recent history, including institutionalized discrimination against Muslim immigrants and Islamic terrorist attacks that targeted a Jewish school in 2012 and a Jewish supermarket in 2015. The reverberations of the Israel-Hamas war in France have further shaped a perception, solidifying for decades, that the country’s antisemitism and Islamophobia can be collapsed into a Jewish-Muslim conflict.

Michel Wieviorka, a Jewish French sociologist who studies violence and terrorism, told JTA there is no evidence that antisemitic incidents are predominantly driven by French Muslims. In fact, most of the perpetrators behind the recent spike in incidents — particularly non-violent ones, such as property damage and graffiti — are unknown. Between Oct. 7 and Nov. 15, 1,518 reports of antisemitic acts resulted in 571 arrests, Darmanin announced in November.

“Nobody knows exactly who is acting,” said Wieviorka. “Many people believe that most of these acts come from people with immigrant origins, but they can also come from the extreme right. For instance, I know some cases of destroyed graves in Jewish cemeteries — these attacks usually come from the extreme right, not from Muslims or Arabs.”

For Elkrief, Oct. 7 marked a turning point both personally and professionally. The 63-year-old journalist was born in Meknes, Morocco, and moved to France with her family when she was a teenager. (A remaining synagogue in Meknes bears her family name.) She started her long career at the French desk of the Associated Press in 1984. She spent 14 years at TF1, the oldest TV channel in France, helped found two news channels — LCI in 1993 and BFM TV in 2005 — and has hosted an LCI show about French politics since 2021.

She is also the great-niece of Chalom Messas, who was Morocco’s chief rabbi in the 1960s and 1970s until immigrating to Israel in 1978, when he became the chief Sephardic rabbi of Jerusalem. Elkrief is part of France’s small Liberal Jewish community and maintains Jewish traditions, keeping kosher at home and gathering the family for Shabbat evenings — including her two daughters and a newborn granddaughter. (Liberal Judaism in France is most similar to Reform Judaism in the United States.)

In all her years on air, Elkrief never spoke about her Jewish identity on TV before Oct. 7. She felt obliged to keep a “poker face” about her private life until the Hamas attacks, when she was moved to share more — fueled by her fear of rising antisemitism and enabled by her recent position as a commentator.

“I could explain where I was coming from and how much I was anxious about antisemitism in France after the 7th of October,” said Elkrief. “I called it my ‘coming out.’ I’ve since had some opportunities to speak about the conflict as a French editorialist, but also as a French Jew, for the first time in my life.”

On Oct. 9, Elkrief told her viewers that she was born in Morocco and lived there until early 1974, when she was 13. Her parents, both descended from generations of Moroccan Jews, feared regional tensions in the aftermath of the 1973 Yom Kippur War, when Israel fended off attacks from Arab countries. They went to France because they believed their children would have a safer life there.

“When I came at that time, I couldn’t imagine that there would be antisemitism in France,” Elkrief told JTA.

Worried about antisemitism gaining currency in French politics, Elkrief has criticized far-left factions heavily on her show. In addition to her dispute with Bompard, she blasted LFI for boycotting a march against antisemitism in November.

France’s traditional left, which encompasses socialist and communist parties, has nearly collapsed and left the more radical, controversy-dogged LFI in power, said Wieviorka. Meanwhile, the far-right National Rally — including anti-immigration leader Marine Le Pen, whose father and predecessor is a convicted Holocaust revisionist — has escaped the same censure for antisemitism during Israel’s war on Gaza, largely by proclaiming support for Israel.

“My idea is that they hate Arabs, Islam and migrants so much that they consider they have to be fighting on the other side,” said Wieviorka.

Bell cautioned against focusing exclusively on what is often described as the “new antisemitism” on the far left. The “old antisemitism” on the far-right never went away, he argued, but has only been masked by pro-Israel sentiment. Indeed, Bell said that historically antisemitic tropes — particularly those depicting an invasion of Jews too different or unassimilable to become truly French — have merely been recycled by the far-right to stigmatize Muslim immigrants.

And even if this narrative now primarily targets Muslims, Jews are not free from the conspiratorial discourse, said Bell. He pointed out that while members of the National Rally may not explicitly attack Jews, they sometimes use euphemisms for Jewish “elites” whom they blame for engineering mass migration, in a French version of the “great replacement” theory that has fueled violence around the world.

“When Marine Le Pen talks about ‘cosmopolitan nomads’ who are encouraging migration and destroying European nations, she has a tendency to mention Jewish French political figures — Jacques Attali, Daniel Cohn-Bendit,” said Bell. “I don’t think that’s an accident.”

Elkrief and Mélenchon have one thing in common: They are both among the estimated 836,000 Moroccan immigrants in France. (Mélenchon, 72, was born in Tangier and lived there until he was 12.) Elkrief said she is a strong believer in the “Republic,” which in France denotes an idea that there are only equal individuals in the public sphere, no minorities or ethnic groups. The country’s principle of “laïcité,” loosely and imprecisely translated as “secularism,” enshrines in French law the state’s neutrality between religions and confines religious symbols and practices to the private sphere — a pillar that Elkrief believes can protect France from discrimination against both Jews and Muslims.

“I don’t want to be defined by my religion, and I don’t want other French people to be defined by their religion,” said Elkrief. “I believe in the French Republic staying a space of debate, where religion is a private question.”

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illuminatedquill · 3 months

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All Mine

A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger Story

Story Summary: A mission for the Ghost crew takes an unexpected turn when Ezra Bridger reunites with a childhood crush, Shana Tavorri. Sabine Wren, his close friend and partner, must deal with newfound feelings of jealousy - and possibly more - over their relationship.

For Sabezra Day 2024, @sabezraweek

Prompt: Confessing

Bright Jewel System, Mid-Rim Territories

"Look lively," called Hera from the Ghost's cockpit. "Just picked up the Phantom II signal."

Sabine was sitting with Ezra in the Ghost's communal area, playing a game of dejarik. At Hera's call, Ezra sighed and turned the game off. "Well," he said regretfully, "looks like duty calls, Sabine."

She smirked at him and replied, "Lucky for you that it's calling. I was about to bulldoze all over your pathetic defense there at the end." Sabine knew that she had him on the ropes at the game's end. Much as she respected her friend's prowess in battle, Ezra never was much of a tactician.

But, then again, his powers as Jedi certainly did give him options that weren't available to an average combatant. His strategies tended to fall outside the usual box of combat thinking, as Captain Rex - a veteran of the Clone Wars and no stranger to Jedi tactics - put it mildly one time.

It's probably why we work so well together as a team, Sabine reflected. She was one of the only people who could keep up with whatever crazy plan Ezra developed on the fly.

Ezra scowled at her. "My defense was solid, thank you. I was actually about to achieve victory. You're the one who is lucky."

That elicited a laugh from her. "Whatever makes you feel better, goober."

He opened his mouth to further argue the point but was interrupted as Hera emerged from the cockpit followed closely by Chopper. Sighing at the sight of them bickering, she planted both hands on her hips, her expression exasperated.

"Come on, you two," she said. "Let's be good hosts and greet the guest."

Ezra threw Sabine a 'we'll settle this later' look and followed Hera towards the Ghost's stern where the Phantom II had docked. Sabine replied by cheerfully sticking her tongue out at him, as she fell in step behind.

This 'guest', as Hera put it, was a Rebel spy part of the Fulcrum agent network. Three days ago, the Ghost crew had received a transmission from an unexpected source: Princess Leia Organa, the daughter to Senator Bail Organa. She had asked them to rendezvous in the Bright Jewel System where this spy had requested backup to make a trade with an Imperial informant for a data disk containing crucial information to the Rebellion on the nearby planet of Ord Mantell.

Being familiar with the Ghost crew and their capabilities, Princess Leia had requested them specifically for this mission. Once they arrived in system, Kanan and Zeb had then piloted the Phantom II to secret coordinates in deep space to transport the Rebel spy onto the Ghost from an undisclosed location.

As they approached the Phantom II docking bay, Zeb was the first one to disembark, the hatch hissing open to make way for the Ghost crew member. The big Lasat stretched as he emerged, wincing at the crackling noise his joints made. He greeted everyone and, upon seeing Sabine and Ezra, asked with a big grin, "Who won the dejarik game?"

"Me," said Sabine at the same time as Ezra. They turned to each other with bemused looks as Zeb guffawed at their expressions.

"I'll take that to mean that Sabine was about to win it then," Zeb chuckled.

Ezra pouted. Sabine grinned but gave her partner an affectionate pat on the back.

Hera sighed again. "Kids, please behave," she said.

Kanan's voice drifted out from the open hatch, speaking softly to someone. "Watch your step here," he advised, his hand outstretched to the guest.

The Rebel spy stepped through. She was young, around Sabine's age. Lustrous black hair that fell slightly past her shoulders and a beautiful, statuesque face that belonged in holo-dramas. Her eyes were a light gray that shone with a cool intelligence, taking in the Ghost crew with a swift look. The white combat suit she wore was Rebellion standard uniform but, somehow, looked perfectly tailored to her slender body. The holster on her belt had a mean looking blaster tucked inside and judging from the marks on the weapon, it had seen use plenty of times.

Beside her, Sabine heard Ezra take a deep breath in surprise. Frowning, she looked to him - and noted the look of dumbstruck recognition flashing in his piercing blue eyes.

Before she could ask him what was up, Kanan introduced the spy to the crew. "Everyone, this is the Fulcrum agent we've been assigned to escort. Her name is Shana Tavorri."

She nodded in greeting. "Hello, everyone. Pleased to meet you all. I'm grateful for the assistance in this mission. Princess Leia has given you the highest of recommendations."

Shana smiled as her gaze fell upon Ezra. "Especially you, Ezra Bridger."

Sabine narrowed her eyes at Shana. There was an intimate familiarity with how she said Ezra's name . . . and, for some reason, it bothered her.

Ezra took a cautious step forward. "It really is you," he said in amazement. "I can't believe it."

Sabine crossed her arms and leaned against the bulkhead. There was an odd, pinched feeling emanating somewhere inside her chest. Grimacing, she watched her friend practically float towards the new arrival.

Shana's smile widened into an easy-going grin. "Been a while, Ezra. You've certainly grown up from the little street thief I remember back on Lothal."

"You know Ezra?" asked Kanan in surprise.

Shana nodded. "We go way back. Our families were close, and we were childhood friends . . ." Her expression turned sad. "That was before the Empire took over. Ezra - did you ever find out about your parents?"

Ezra went still, a pained expression briefly passing over his face before smoothing into a neutral look. "They died some time ago," he said.

Shana's face fell; she reached out and gripped his hand in sympathy. "Oh, Ezra. I'm so sorry. I was always hoping that they met a better fate than my own family."

Ezra looked down at his feet. "No such luck, I'm afraid," he said. "It's okay. They died helping people."

"It's not okay, Ezra. It'll never be okay. Look - come here," she said and suddenly pulled him into a deep hug. Ezra's face went red in surprise, and he glanced at Sabine with an odd look - like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

She just frowned at him and felt another uncomfortable twinge in her chest. Sabine rubbed at the spot, wondering why she felt this way looking at Ezra and his old friend embracing - and became aware of Hera, looking directly at her, with an amused look on her face.

I don't like this, Sabine thought. I've got a bad feeling about this.

She coughed loudly, interrupting the tender moment between Ezra and Shana. Stepping forward, she stuck out a hand at the Rebel spy. "I'm Sabine, by the way," she said. "Sabine Wren. Ezra's partner."

Shana released a flustered Ezra from the hug and turned towards Sabine. The Fulcrum agent's gray eyes glinted with amusement as she took in Sabine's blunt manner and colorful appearance.

Shana replied coolly, "I've heard all about you, Sabine Wren. You have quite the reputation." The spy took Sabine's hand and gave it a tight, yet amiable squeeze in acknowledgement. Her grip was firm and steady, Sabine noted; her hands, while looking delicate, were calloused. It meant that Shana was not unaccustomed to hard work, despite her model appearance and elegant demeanor.

Normally, that would have impressed Sabine. But, for some unknown reason, it made her dislike the spy even more.

"Good or bad?" asked Sabine as they shook hands.

Shana gave a polite smile as she responded. "Depends on who you ask."

Hera clapped her hands together. "Right. Well, seems like our guest and Ezra have some catching up to do. Ezra, you'll have the honor of giving Shana the tour. Kanan and Zeb, you can go rest. I'll punch in the coordinates to Ord Mantell and get us on the way. And Sabine . . ."

"Yes, Hera?" She was staring at Shana who had already sidled away to speak with Ezra.

"Go freshen up your room. Shana will bunk with you for the night."

Sabine felt her stomach drop out from her abdomen. "Seriously?" she asked. "She's in my room?"

Hera arched an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Sabine gritted her teeth. "No," she replied. Shana had slipped her arm through Ezra's and was walking with him towards the Ghost's communal area. Ezra said something to her, and the young woman let out a peal of laughter that rang through the corridor.

Sabine felt her heart twist viciously as she watched Ezra give a shy smile at Shana.

"No problem at all," she said and went to clean her room, doing her best to ignore the turbulent feelings buzzing inside that were saying something else entirely.

Hyperspace, Mid-Rim Territories

It had been a long day, despite the relative lack of activities, and Sabine was ready for bed. Ezra had given Shana an in-depth tour of the Ghost at her insistence; at the end of it, Sabine had the amusing thought that their guest now possibly knew the Ghost's interior better than any of them. Once finished, Ezra and Shana had lounged in the Ghost's communal area, chatting about various things that had happened in their lives while they had been apart.

Sabine had spent that time lurking nearby, working at a nearby computer station - or, at least, pretending to be working. She was trying to get a better read on this mysterious Shana Tavorri; a Fulcrum agent, after all, was a notable position within the Rebellion, especially for someone so young. There were many of them, she knew, scattered throughout the galaxy performing various missions of critical importance to the Rebellion. The only other one she knew personally was a Jedi Knight, much like Kanan and Ezra, named Ahsoka Tano.

Shana was clearly no Jedi, but she definitely had exhibited skills that the Rebellion deemed worthy enough to put her in the same position that a Jedi had previously held. That made her dangerous.

But Shana's conversation with Ezra failed to disclose any of those potential skills, despite Sabine's best efforts to listen in. She was, however, embarrassed by her response whenever she did hear her name mentioned by Ezra, which came up more than a handful of times in their discussion; a warm, fuzzy feeling that left her feeling pleased.

After a while, both Ezra and Shana wrapped up their chat with a hug (Sabine felt her jaw clench so hard that she could hear something creaking) and retired to their respective bedrooms for the night. Sabine finished her work at the computer station half an hour later and followed suit.

Checking a nearby chronometer, she registered the lateness of the hour and stepped inside her room, deciding to spend some time maintaining her weapons before sleeping -

Only to find Shana laying in the top bunk, reading something on a data pad. Sabine winced, having forgotten that she wouldn't be alone for the night.

"Don't mind me," said Shana amiably, almost as if reading Sabine's thoughts. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Gladly, Sabine thought. But she said, "Hope I didn't disturb your reading."

Shana chuckled. "You didn't. I was just finishing up, actually." She rolled over in the bed to get a better look at Sabine. Her gray eyes took in Sabine's casual appearance, glittering with an almost feline interest.

Sabine, uncomfortable with her gaze, settled down at her desk and reached for her blasters and maintenance tools. "Anything interesting?"

"Oh, plenty," replied Shana. "I was reading about this superweapon developed by the Empire called 'The Duchess'."

Sabine froze, her hands twitching on the grip of her blaster. Her heart began to hammer away, a thousand beats per second. Slowly, she turned towards Shana, finding her sitting at the bed's edge, her feet dangling. There was a slight, polite smile on her face, but her gray eyes flashed again with that cool intelligence.

"You have led quite the life, Sabine Wren," remarked Shana. "Tragedy after tragedy. Does anyone in this crew know about any of that?" She cocked her head at Sabine. "Does Ezra? What would the gallant Jedi think of his friend if he really knew her?"

It was a thought that had kept Sabine up through the night on several occasions.

She crossed her arms and stared at Shana. "You've been reading up on me."

Shana shrugged. "On everyone, really. Princess Leia recommended you all so highly, so I couldn't help but take a peek at your files and histories. Quite the achievements you've pulled off for a crew so small."

"I've been reading up on you, too," replied Sabine coolly. Shana arched an eyebrow in surprise, eliciting a rush of satisfaction - clearly the spy had not been expecting that. "You ran with Saw Gerrera's crew for five years before working directly under Princess Leia. Did he kick you out, I wonder? What does it mean if you're too extreme even for someone like him?"

Shana dropped down from the top bunk and leaned against the bulkhead; her arms crossed in a similar fashion to Sabine. She wondered briefly if it was intentional, to mimic her. "Those files are available only to the top brass of Rebel Command," she murmured. "You hacked into the Rebellion's encrypted database at that old computer station? I assumed you were just skulking about, trying to listen to mine and Ezra's conversation."

Sabine shrugged, hiding her humiliation at having been clocked so easily by the other girl. And here I was thinking that was discreet, she thought. "I'm clever like that," Sabine retorted.

Shana grinned. "Your reputation precedes you, Sabine. Gifted prowess in combat, especially for a Mandalorian, and notable demolitions expert - but everyone seems to overlook that you are a child prodigy. I suspect your rough, blunt demeanor disguises that fact well. But you are, without a doubt, an enormous threat against anyone that chooses to go against you."

Sabine rocked back mentally at Shana's high praise of her talents. But all she said was, "Thanks, I guess."

Shana nodded in acknowledgment. "I can't say the same for Ezra, however." Shaking her head, she added, "I'm surprised he's survived this long."

"What do you mean?" asked Sabine.

"He's hopeless," said Shana in an exasperated tone. "I mean, yes, he's a Jedi now - or so he claims. I understand they're in short supply of capable students but to recruit him into the fabled Jedi Order? Desperate times, I suppose. He could barely tie his shoelaces together when I left him last."

"Ezra Bridger," said Sabine hotly, "is more than capable in any situation. Not because of his Jedi training, but because of who he is. He's saved all our lives - and many others - countless times over."

Shana eyed her skeptically. "You don't have to pretend to me, Sabine. I was just like you before. He's a loyal pup to be sure and good for a distraction I admit, but it's a stretch to say that he's capable on his own." She sighed. "I understand that this crew needed a mascot, perhaps, to cheer them up during these dark times but I think it's irresponsible to take someone like him - "

Sabine struck her with an open hand so hard that the other girl's head bounced off the bulkhead. Before Shana could recover, she shoved her against the wall, pinning her with a well-placed forearm. Sabine, through the red haze that obscured her vision, dimly noted the cut lip on the girl's face but found that she didn't care.

"Do not insult Ezra Bridger in front of me ever again," she said in a voice that was barely recognizable. It was a harsh rasp that Sabine didn't know she was capable of. "Do you understand?"

Shana tapped on Sabine's arm, gasping for air. It took a few moments for her to realize that the other girl couldn't reply due to the lack of air. Sabine relented, feeling her heartbeat pulsing rhythmically inside her skull; she looked down at her hands and found them shaking from the rush of adrenaline, now subsiding.

Yet on the inside she felt calm, as though a stream of ice water were flowing through her veins. Many things from Shana had unnerved her tonight, but it was her insults toward Ezra that had pushed Sabine past the edge.

Doubled over, wheezing, Shana gave her an amused look to Sabine's surprise. "So, you do care," she said.

"You didn't answer my question," Sabine said quietly.

Shana nodded. "I understand. You've got this emotional wall up, you know that? Hard to see through - except when it comes to Ezra Bridger." She wiped at her lip, noting the blood. "Nice hit," she observed.

Sabine reached into her desk and took out a first-aid kit. "Patch yourself up," she said, offering it to her.

Shana accepted it with a nod of gratitude. "I hope you don't take what I said about Ezra seriously. I just needed to know where you stand with him."

Sabine sat back down at her desk. "You don't actually think that way about him?"

Shana shook her head and leaned back against the wall, opening the kit. "Not at all. I know Ezra. We used to scavenge together back in the old days on Lothal. Hit up Imperial patrols for food and water. He stuck his neck out for me plenty of times, at risk to his life. I know what he can do. And that was before he became a Jedi."

Sabine watched her apply medicinal gel to her lip, thinking over what she said. "You care about him."

Shana blew out a breath. "Deeply. He was the only bright spot in my life during that time. I think I loved him."

Sabine felt her heart stop at Shana's words, hearing the depth and sincerity of emotion within them. Feeling her stare, Shana looked over at her with a knowing gaze. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

Deflecting the question, Sabine asked, "So why did you leave him? How did you two get separated?"

Shana sighed. "One of our little scavenging operations went sideways. An uppity Imperial lieutenant wanted to make an example of us for humiliating him in front of his troops. The chase was exhausting; Ezra led most of them away but the lieutenant caught up to me. I thought I was dead."

She closed her eyes, reliving the memory. "Saw Gerrera was there. Don't ask me why or how; he never explained. He killed the lieutenant and offered me a choice. He was impressed with my skills, you see. So he said that I could come with him and pay back the Empire for what they had done to me."

"And if you didn't?"

The girl smiled grimly at Sabine. "He would kill me. No witnesses. Apparently, he didn't want the Empire knowing about his whereabouts, should they find and interrogate me afterwards."

Sabine snorted. "Not much of a choice."

"Indeed," Shana agreed. "So, I went with him."

"And left Ezra? You never went back for him?" Sabine didn't mean to, but there was an accusatory tone to her questions.

Shana eyes glazed over with sadness. "I couldn't. He was just a kid. I didn't want to pull him into danger. I could tell Saw was dangerous, even if he was fighting for the Rebellion. The moment I had an opportunity to do so, I jumped ship. Princess Leia found me and offered a new path. I took it."

Sabine was silent for a moment, thinking about Shana's story. Finally, she said quietly, "Ezra would have followed, if you had asked. He would have gone with you anywhere."

"I know. He's silly like that."

"Loyal," she corrected. Shana cocked her head and smiled a little sadly at Sabine.

"Just like you are to him. Is it typical Mandalorian stubbornness? Or something more?"

Sabine did not want to have that conversation with Shana. Or with anyone else, for that matter. She stood up abruptly and said, "Good night, Shana."

Shana's smile became, somehow, even more sad. "A word of advice, Sabine?"

Sabine was already standing at the door, about to step out. But something in Shana's tone made her pause.

"Don't wait to tell him how you feel. You won't get a second chance. Especially in this galaxy."

She considered Shana's words for a long moment before replying, "Whatever you think our relationship is . . . it's none of your business. That stays between us."

Sabine left before the other girl could respond. Her mind still buzzing with what happened, she wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the Ghost before running smack dab into someone.

"Sabine? What are you doing?" Sabine blinked at the person speaking - and almost groaned out loud.

It was Ezra. Dressed in his sleep wear, holding a mug of his favorite beverage, hot chocolate. His eyebrows were raised in an expression of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Sabine very desperately wanted to be anywhere else right now. Her face was flushed in embarrassment; her heart was thudding a steady tattoo into her ribs at Ezra's proximity. She felt exposed, like a raw nerve, her inner turmoil and feelings threatening to spill out the longer she stayed in front of him.

Racking her brain to find some last second excuse to get out of there, something caught her attention: Ezra's fingers were bandaged. Her fears momentarily vanished as she asked, "What happened to your hands?"

Ezra fumbled his mug, trying to hide the evidence but it was too late. Sighing, he said, "I was working on something."

Sabine arched an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "Working on what?"

Blushing, Ezra said, "Promise not to laugh?"

A small smile curled on her lips. "Nope."

Ezra groaned but led her to the communal table where his "project" laid. She noted immediately the disarray of colored paper strewn about on the table, half folded in various attempts into a familiar shape -

It clicked. "You're trying to make a flower out of these?" she asked. Ezra sat down and nodded glumly.

"Ezra Bridger," she said, placing a hand on her hip. "You've been holding out on me in terms of artistic abilities? That come with your Jedi training?"

He gave her a despairing glance. "I wish. Been up most of the night trying to figure this out."

Stifling a laugh out of pity, she surveyed his work. "It's not half-bad. What kind of flower are you trying to make?"

Ezra rubbed the back of his head, not looking at her. "It's supposed to be a - well, a Lenora flower."

Sabine's eyes widened in surprise. "A Lenora flower? From the fairytale?" Princess Lenora and the Starboy was an old fairytale that she was familiar with - in fact, it was one of her most treasured stories. Memories of her father reading it to her when she was younger, were still vivid in her mind. The flowers from that fairytale held deep symbolic meaning that marked them as her favorite.

"Yeah."

"I see." Sabine studied Ezra's work some more, looking to see where he went wrong - and then felt her stomach sink, as a horrid thought came to her.

"It's for Shana, isn't it." The words tasted rancid in her mouth.

Ezra looked at her, surprised. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then - oddly enough - a small, relieved smile appeared on his face. He answered in an innocent tone, "Sure. It's for Shana."

There was a part of Sabine, operating from a recent frame of memory, that wanted to sweep the contents of the table onto the floor and stomp on them. She struggled to control her wayward feelings, however, and took a deep breath.

"You want some help?"

Ezra's expression turned amused. "You sure?"

Sabine sighed. "Yeah. I'm sure." He needed her help. Like always.

And she could never turn him down.

He patted the seat next to him. "Thanks, Sabine."

Despite the situation, Sabine managed a smile at her friend. "Anytime, goober."

Ord Mantell City, Ord Mantell

Ord Mantell City was a bustling acropolis, teeming with all manner of people far flung from the distant corners of the galaxy. Tall spires loomed over the city center; a sprawling mass of mis-matched architecture that spread far as the eye could see. Rumor had it that the infamous criminal organization, the Black Sun, operated out of here - a rumor that the Empire was desperate to quash, as it clashed with their image of retaining control over the entire known galaxy. Despite being a haven for ill-gotten gains and profit, it was certainly a far cry from the pits of villainy and scum that other planets were, and the citizens enjoyed a relatively peaceful life despite the tense cold war between the Empire and the criminal organizations that inhabited their city.

The Ghost had arrived mid-morning with time to spare before Shana had to make contact with her Imperial informant. After taking the time to do a quick survey of the locals to ensure that they weren't being watched, Shana revealed her plan to the crew: a simple trade made in the market square and then she would be shuttled off in a separate transport nearby with another Fulcrum agent who was waiting on stand-by. The Ghost crew would act as her escort, in case things got hairy.

It was a reasonable enough plan - except for one, glaring flaw that Sabine immediately noticed.

"Why is Ezra the only one going with you for back-up?" she asked, trying to keep the heat out of her voice. "I thought we were all going with you."

Shana shook her head. "My informant would scamper at the sight of a group approaching. Two is more than sufficient to handle him, I assure you. The rest of you will wait back here, in the Ghost, ready to assist should we need it. The market square isn't far from the landing pad."

Sabine looked to Kanan and Hera. "Please tell me you disagree with this," she said.

Kanan stroked his beard, thinking. "Hera?" he asked. "What's your opinion?"

Hera answered, "She knows the area better than we do. And I know Shana and Ezra can handle themselves in a fight." She glanced at Sabine. "It's her plan, Sabine. And we'll be nearby in case something goes wrong."

"Which it won't," Shana said reassuringly. "I know this informant. He won't be a problem."

Sabine glared at her, then turned towards Kanan. "Kanan?"

Kanan let out a deep breath. "I'm with Hera on this one. We'll leave it to those two. This information is important. We don't want to risk spooking her informant."

Zeb grunted in assent. Chopper whomped his agreement, as well.

Sabine gritted her teeth, preparing to launch an argument -

Ezra interjected before she could open her mouth. "Sabine."

She looked at him. He gave her a serious look and said, "It'll be fine. Trust me."

Sabine blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine. Leave your com-links on, though. I want to hear everything being said. The moment something goes wrong, we'll know."

Shana nodded. "Agreed." Turning to Ezra, she said, "Let's be off, Master Jedi."

Ezra bowed gallantly at her and said, "Lead the way, my lady." They began to make their way down the boarding ramp.

Sabine rolled her eyes. Shana paused at the entrance and turned around to face Sabine.

"What?" asked Sabine.

"He'll be safe with me," said Shana. "I promise."

And she left without another word. Sabine watched her catch up to Ezra, turn a corner on the street ahead, and then vanish into the crowd.

An hour later, they returned triumphant with the data disc in hand. Sabine bounded down the ramp, almost colliding into Ezra. She had been pacing inside the Ghost, listening to the tense conversation exchanged between Shana and her Imperial informant, expecting it to go sideways at any given moment - but it never did.

Shana did her job as expected. Ezra checked in a few minutes later to let them know they were on the way back, and that he hadn't spotted - or sensed - anyone following them.

"Huh," said Kanan. "That's a first for us. A job that didn't have any complications."

Hera glanced at Sabine knowingly. "Well, for most of us, anyway," she remarked.

She bit her lip and double-checked her friend for trackers, despite knowing there were none.

Shana said, "I'm fine, too, in case you were wondering."

Sabine threw her a glare and finished her inspection. "No trackers on you, far as I can tell. All clear."

Ezra raised an eyebrow at her. "That was a very . . . thorough inspection on your part, Sabine."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Shut up, goober."

He grinned briefly at her and then turned to Shana. "I guess this is farewell," he said quietly.

The other girl shook her head. "Don't say it like that, Ezra. I'm sure we'll meet again - "

Ezra interrupted her. "Just say it this once. Please. For me."

Shana looked taken aback for a moment and then smiled sadly. "Good-bye, Ezra Bridger."

And then she leaned forward, giving a soft kiss on his cheek. Sabine looked away.

"Good-bye, Shana," he said softly. He turned back towards the Ghost and walked up the ramp without another word. Which left Sabine alone with Shana.

Sabine gazed at her, not sure what to say. Shana, however, merely smiled and offered her hand. Incredulous, Sabine gripped it and gave a firm shake.

"This has been an . . . experience," she said. "I'm still not sure what to make of it."

"Can I tell you something, Sabine? I'm rather jealous of you. Ezra clearly cares for you deeply."

"And what makes you think that?"

"He didn't say good-bye to you when he left with me. He just asked you to trust him; trust that he would come back." Her smile turned melancholy. "I don't think he'll ever say good-bye to you, Sabine Wren."

Shana's com-link sent out a chirping noise. She checked it and said, "That's my ride. I should be going shortly."

"Well, safe travels. And good hunting," replied Sabine. The Fulcrum agent nodded and turned to go - but paused for a split second and turned back towards her.

"Yes?" asked Sabine, cautiously.

"Remember what I said. About not waiting." She looked thoughtful for a moment and then added with a sincere smile, "And take care of him, will you? He's all yours now."

And then she took a few hurried steps and disappeared into the crowded streets of Ord Mantell City.

Hyperspace, The Way Home

Later that night, getting ready for bed, Sabine came across Ezra sitting alone in the Ghost's communal area. He was studying something gripped in his hand, his expression lost in thought.

Sabine took a step closer and felt her eyes widen in recognition: it was the paper Lenora flower that he had made the night prior.

"You still have that?" she asked.

Ezra jolted slightly in his seat. "Oh, hey. Didn't see you there."

"Shana didn't want it?" Sabine asked. She couldn't imagine the girl refusing Ezra's present. Just the thought of it alone made Sabine wish she had hit Shana harder when she had the chance.

Ezra smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, it wasn't for Shana in the first place."

He abruptly offered it to her. Sabine felt her jaw drop in surprise.

"It's for me?"

He nodded. "Hera told me that you were feeling a little neglected since I was focused on spending time with Shana, so I decided to make this as thanks. I appreciate you giving us the time and space to catch up."

Sabine took the flower gently from Ezra's hand. "How did you know to make this one? It's my favorite."

Ezra smiled at her. "You might have mentioned it a time or two during a conversation. It's from your favorite fairytale."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Try that again."

He winced. "Okay, I snuck into your room one time and saw the book laying on your bed. It wasn't for weird reasons, I promise! Zeb ate all my snacks, and I knew you had some stashed away, so I went looking while you were out."

Sabine snorted. "I believe you now." She rolled the flower between her fingertips, admiring the work Ezra had put into it.

All for her.

"You know what this flower symbolizes, Ezra?" she asked suddenly.

He thought about it. "Unwavering loyalty and dedication, right? I can't quite remember the whole story."

And love, she thought.

"Anyway," Ezra said quietly, "I just wanted you to know that . . . well, you're the only one for me, Sabine. No one will ever replace you."

Sabine's eyes snapped to Ezra; she could hear her heartbeat, pulsing loudly in her ears.

"As a partner," he added hastily. "I mean - well, you know - "

She smiled. "I know what you mean, goober."

Don't wait to tell him how you feel. You won't get a second chance. Especially in this galaxy.

He's all mine now, she thought. All mine.

"We should probably head to bed now. Separately. But you knew that." Ezra's expression became increasingly mortified at what was coming out of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to very badly disappear in that second.

Sabine just laughed. "True. It's been a long day."

He shook his head, his expression flustered. "Good night, Sabine. See you in the morning." He began to walk down the hallway towards his room.

Don't wait.

"Hey, Ezra," she called. He turned around.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum," she said softly.

Ezra cocked his head in an inquisitive manner. "Is that a Mandalorian saying?"

Sabine nodded.

"What does it mean?"

"A literal translation is 'I will know you forever.'"

Ezra mulled over the significance of what she said. "Nothing's certain in this galaxy, Sabine," he said. "But I hope that's true for us."

"Me, too," Sabine replied. She followed him down the hallway to their rooms.

"Does that phrase have another meaning?" asked Ezra. "I get the feeling it translates to something else."

I love you.

Sabine smiled at him. "It does have another, more famous meaning. I'll tell you about it someday. When this war is over."

"Ah," said Ezra dryly. "Well, that won't be too much of a wait, then. Between you and me, we've got the Empire on the ropes already."

Sabine laughed.

"Promise me you'll really tell me what the other meaning is?" asked Ezra. "You won't leave me hanging, right?"

Sabine looked at him, gazing deeply into his eyes. How blue they looked, she thought. How they shined like sapphire gems under the right lighting.

"I promise, Ezra Bridger," she said. "No matter what. If the galaxy tries to separate us, I'll find you and tell you."

#sabezra #sabezraday2024 #sabezra fanfiction #sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars #star wars rebels

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lillian-gallows · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 17: Threesome with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader x Bucking Barnes. Work Count: 767 Warnings: Threesome, Oral (M receiving), P in V sex, Spit-roasting, Dirty talk. Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

There’s a very long list of perks to Super Soldiers. Hightened strength, healing, speed, it goes on and on, but the best thing, by far, is the stamina.

You, Steve, and Bucky have known each other for a while. Officially you’re their handler, and that’s all you had been at first, their anchor to modern times, making sure they can get from point A to point B without issue.

But as happens when people adults are left to their own devices, the three of you became friends, then later, lovers.

Two years of ups, downs, and a lot of communication, led three of you to where you are now.

And where you are right now, is spit-roasted between the two men.

Bucky was gripping your hips as he drove into your weeping cunt over and over again; while Steve had a hand wrapped in your hair, filling your throat with his thick cock, the taste of salt lingering on the back of your tongue as his precum leaks.

A veteran of this particular position after two years helped you keep your eyes open and trained on the baby blues looking down at you, clouded with lust. It also helped keep you from being pushed too hard forward by Bucky’s hips, who you could hear sighing and muttering filthy things.

“Christ, Doll…Perfect fucking pussy…Grippin’ me so fucking tight…” You could picture the look on his face, eyes dark and locked on the place where your bodies meet, mouth hanging open just a little as heavy breaths puff out, sweat dripping down the side of his face, making his hair stick.

You didn’t have to picture Steve’s face. He loved watching you suck his cock, and he loved you watching him watch. He always gets this little smirk, like he’s proud of the mess he and Bucky can reduce you to with a handful of touches and filthy words.

“Such a good little slut for us, aren’t you, Baby?” He asked on equally heavy breaths, not expecting an answer, nor needing one, not with the way your eyes roll back for just a moment before snapping back to his, half-lidded and foggier than before as your head had long since gone floaty. “She’s so far gone, Buck…You should see her.” Steve said, gaze flitting up to the other man for a split second before returning to you.

Bucky let out a curse as Steve’s words made you clench around him. “Took the words from my mouth, Steve- Fuck…” He gasped, the sound of a gulp, like he was running out of breath, it wouldn’t shock you, this was round 3 after all. “Grippin’ me like a fucking vice…All pretty pink and puffy…” He let out a breathless laugh, which Steve returned.

“Hear that, Pretty Girl? Makin’ Buck feel real good…” Steve’s touch in your hair turned gentle as he brushed strands back. “Makin’ me feel real good too…” The his was gripping hard again. “Smack my leg if you need me to stop.” That was the only warning you got before he was fucking your mouth the same way the man behind you was fucking your cunt.

Whether it was on purpose or not you couldn’t tell, not when your brain was barely functioning, but they found an almost perfect rhythm, when one was pulling out, the other was pushing in.

The blond in front of you nearly tripping you gag reflex every other thrust, stinging your scalp from his grip on your hair, balls smacking your chin, and the brunette behind you battering your cervix and dragging over you g-spot without fail, hands gripping your hips so tight you hoped there would be bruises.

A perfect recipe for absolute bliss.

The room was filled with a symphony of filthy sounds, wet squelching and the slapping of skin on skin, hard breathing and the muffled whimpers from your throat that were just barely audible through it all.

You were so lost in the sensations that you didn’t even realize how close you were to orgasm until Bucky spoke. “Tightenin’ up, Princess…You gonna cum? Hm?” He asked, then promptly laughed when you clenched around him again, always drunk on their words. “Go on. Cum on my cock…”

Steve pulled himself free of your mouth and fisted his own cock, watching you cry and whine and whimper as your orgasm ripped through you, Bucky’s onslaught never stopping.

And once he deemed that you’d gathered your breath enough, Steve was right back between your lips.

“We’re far from done, Babydoll…”

Stamina indeed.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 12 days

Text

Insurgency: The Uprising

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.

Word count: 4,750

A/N: this is an idea I had for a book I wanted to write. I love dystopian books and movies so I really wanted to write something like this. This will be a series lol.

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“The relief of giving in to destruction.” - Franz Kafka, Diaries.

“This is an urgent message from the president. This is an urgent message from the president. This is an ur-“

“Hello citizens of Pruye,” the TV warning got interrupted by the screening of a middle aged woman sitting down on a desk. Her suit was black as a flag stood behind her. The colors blue and green with a crest on the far left corner- a serpent. The woman had a brown bob with a few grey hairs. Her eyes were deep brown as her lips remained a bright pink. Her rosy cheeks puffed out the look of exhaustion as she embodied the feeling of a confident and strong leader,

“Today is an important day that all must remember. Tonight, we will launch the cure of all illnesses. The immunity to life. We shall bring peace and harmony all throughout the globe. A change never seen in history… until now.”

“Membario will become the new pharmaceutical phenomena. Our people worked hard for this cure and we shall be the first ones to prove to the world that we, too, can make history. Tonight, you all will be receiving a sample of this cure. Tonight, we will boast in the celebrations of what it feels to be victors! We are proud Pruyanians!”

The TV got turned off by someone, your coworker, “What a bunch of mierda,” Your coworker was an old man, a veteran who served in the war and now worked at where you worked. A canteen right in the middle of downtown Pruye. The streets were made of cement but had plot holes from previous battles.

The Pruyanian government, right before the current president won the election, was peaceful and harmonious in which it allowed citizens to have a voice. After President Mendez took charge, she changed everything.

Streets were patrolled by the Pruyanian soldiers who proved their loyalty to the country. Laws were changed and made to accommodate the president’s demands.

“I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal, it’s just a drug like opium or morphine,” he continued with a grumpy voice.

“C’mon, Franco. Don’t be a buzzkill. Imagine how rich we can be if we were to sell it to other countries?” Another coworker said, a young woman in her early twenties with dyed hair. Red fiery hair covering what was a previous black raven shade.

Franco snorted as he stared at the TV and then back at the young woman, “Don’t tell me you actually believe her words? She’s manipulating us!”

You sighed and went to clean up a few tables, “You two fight like politicians.”

“Look- I’m just saying is that there are better ways to make a living. I don’t want to work here for the rest of my life,” the young woman replied as she too helped you clean around the canteen.

“Too bad, Esme,” Franco replied as he opened a newspaper and began to read, “Life’s a bitch and you can’t do anything about it.”

Esme raised her brow and looked at you for a brief moment, “He gets old but not his spirit, eh?” She nudged you with her elbow gently.

You stifled a chuckle and shook your head as you went back to the kitchen to clean the used dishes.

It’s always been you three working here. Esme, Franco and you were like family. After President Mendez delivered the order to kill all those who opposed her, your family became a target.

Your brother, around 16 years old, died right before a ceasefire was called. He was with his friends when a group of Pruyanian soldiers appeared and shot him. The cause for the shooting? He defied a soldier and showed insubordination.

Since then you’ve grown resentment to the government- specifically President Mendez.

The ground shook as you were cleaning the dishes. You slowly approached the open door entry along with Franco and Esme, watching as battle tanks drove through the city.

“Coño… what are they doing over here?” Esme asked faintly as she watched the tanks and army pass by. Their uniform blue with the serpent crest embedded on their arm. The red serpent you’ve seen all throughout the city.

“Must be presidential orders,” Franco pointed to a big screen on a tall tower. The tower stood right in the center of the city layout. Its purpose was to guide those who are lost- or maybe it was to show who the powerful ones really were.

You and Esme turned your attention to the big screen, watching as a countdown took place. They were about to distribute the cure to the citizens in 6 hours.

Esme huffed in annoyance and went back to stare at the soldiers pass by. Their boots echoing through the humid streets of Pruye as they held their weapons with a firm grip.

“They’re securing the area…” you whispered as you furrowed your brows. You turned back to look at the screen and listen to what the president had to say, “We will be patrolling the following areas- Pucalara, Miguén, San Jolonia, and San Bandero. Do not be alarmed, this is standard protocol.”

Currently, you were in San Bandero. The heart of Pruye. The soldiers all surrounded the city and held their rifles close to themselves. You watched as the tanks all moved inward, closer to the tower.

“They’re locking us in…” you spoke faintly as you quickly walked back inside the canteen. Esme and Franco exchanged a look as they followed behind you, seemingly confused.

“This isn’t protection like she claims- no. She’s locking us inside the city-“ you frantically said as you got your bag and jacket.

“Y/n, slow down. How do you even know that?” Franco put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

You shook your head as you swung your jacket around your shoulders, “I don’t. But knowing her… she’s hiding something and I don’t want to be here for that.”

You walked out of the canteen and walked down the sidewalk towards where the soldiers were blocking an exit. As you neared them, a soldier held out his rifle and aimed at you as he spoke through his helmet, “Turn back around. You cannot leave the area.”

You raised your hands in the air and took a step forward, resulting in the other soldiers pointing their guns at you, “I said- turn back around! Now!”

With a glare you slowly took steps back as you walked away from them. They weren’t letting people out which meant that they were also not letting people in.

As you walked back to the canteen, you noticed how people began to get out of their houses and grow confused at the soldiers. Why were they blocking the exits and entries of the city?

Right as you were about to walk inside the canteen, shots were fired. You crouched down to the floor and covered your head with your arms as you looked over your shoulder and saw soldiers shooting the civilians with weapons launching at them.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the people with machetes and guns fight each other. The sound of bodies falling down to the floor as well as the blood seeping through their lifeless bodies, staining the cement under them.

Rain began to pour down, making it hard for the soldiers to see through their helmets. You watched as a person stabbed a soldier from behind with their knife but then fall to the ground dead as the soldier behind them shot them in the head.

This was war.

Leon was called to the main office of the organization he was currently working at. Which was for the government. He found himself inside the White House again for some reason.

As he waited inside a room, he couldn’t help but notice how bright and sunny the weather had been lately. Which was a contrast to what he felt. Drained and exhausted.

The door opened gently and two men dressed in expensive suits stepped inside with a file in their hands. They approached where Leon had been sitting and sat on the couch across from him.

“Good news, your request for a getaway vacation has been approved,” one of the men, balding and tired, said as he laid the file on the coffee table between them. Leon leaned forward to pick it up and go through it.

“And the bad news?” Leon asked without glancing at them.

The other cleared his throat before speaking, “You’re being sent to another virus mission.”

Leon looked up from the file to stare at the two men. Another mission about the virus, when will it ever end?

He sighed as he closed the file and leaned back against the couch, “So another zombie apocalypse. Great, just what I fucking needed…” he whispered as he put the file back on the coffee table, “No.”

“No? What do you mean no? This is important, people’s lives are at risk and we can’t-“ Leon quickly interrupted the balding man.

“You can’t save everyone when it comes to this. I’ve seen it many times, why don’t you all just do what you did back in Raccoon City, huh? Bomb them until there’s no trace of the virus,” Leon got up and began to walk towards the door.

“This is different,” the other man said, causing Leon to stop in his tracks. “This isn’t like the virus you’ve seen before… this is much more dangerous.”

Leon turned around to look at the two of them before walking back to sit on the couch. “Go on.”

“Ahem-“ the man continued, “South America. The branch wants you to go over there and retrieve a sample of the virus. That’s all you have to do. Once you give us the sample, we’ll proceed from there and you’ll get your vacation.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at him, growing suspicious of how easy the mission sounds, “You aren’t telling me everything, are you?”

The balding man laughed nervously and readjusted his black tie, “Not per se-“

“There’s a revolution going on in the country of Pruye where you’re being sent to. They mutated the virus’s genetic code into something more dangerous and they’re using it as medicine- I believe you know where this is going,” the other man said.

Leon nodded and kept quiet as the man talked, “The government is planning on distributing this ‘medicine’ to other countries but we cannot let them. Your mission is not only to retrieve a sample but to also stop the spread and destroy the evidence of the virus ever existing. You will be given a team- both air and land to help you complete your mission. Your task is not let others know the real reason why you’re there. You are acting as a soldier proving aid to the government. Once you have retrieved the virus sample, we will pull you out of the country and bring you back.”

“This time I’m actually getting help. Nice,” Leon replied sarcastically. It was obvious that Leon wasn’t all too excited about this. He’s been used as a killing machine ever since Raccoon City. He’s been tossed around the globe with expectations of solving everyone’s issues. And he’s tired. He’s 38, he should be worrying about other things other than war and death.

His hands rested on his thighs as he began to stand up from the couch, “When do I leave?”

“First thing in the morning, you’ll be on a private plane provided by the government,” the balding man answered.

Leon nodded before finally walking towards the door and exiting the room. As he walked down the halls of the White House, he wondered what life would be like for him. Is this all he’s ever going to do? Was his life purpose about fighting and killing? He couldn’t wait to retire.

Smoke covered the entire block. Rain poured down harshly against your skin, causing your hair to stick to you like glue. The smell was of gunpowder and metallic blood infiltrated your nose. A vision full of haze as you stood up from being crouched down on the floor.

Blood.

A lot of blood.

They brought tanks and a helicopter. “¡Al suelo!” Someone yelled.

You got down on the floor as an incoming tank shot a building, causing it to crumble down just a few feet away from the canteen. Your eyes widened in horror at the sight.

People screamed- from pain and from the fight. You got up and ran to try and find Franco and Esme. You needed to get them out of here now.

You staggered as you ran towards the canteen. The debris that had fallen over from the building covering the road. You jumped and ducked as soldiers hid behind them and shot at anyone who they deemed a threat.

Panting through the bloodied streets, you had reached the canteen. You heard groaning and some yelling more up ahead.

You didn’t know what took over you but you found yourself running towards that sound. As you approached the yelling, you saw that Esme had been hit by a piece of debris from the collapsed building. Her leg had been squished and she desperately tried to pry the piece off of her. You kneeled down beside her and pushed the debris aside, watching in horror what had happened to her leg.

Her bone broke and penetrated her skin. Snapped in half like a twig. There was blood pooling down her leg. You froze, you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t a medic but you also weren’t heartless enough to leave her.

You took off your jacket and applied it to her wound, hoping you could at least stop the bleeding. She gripped your arm as she let out a bloody scream in pain.

“Estoy aquí- respira. Todo va estar bien-“ you tried to calm her down but she let out another yell, “y/n it hurts- grragh”

Of course it hurt, her bone was poking out of her skin.

“Where’s Franco?” You asked as you tried to get her distracted from the pain.

She didn’t respond and instead pointed to a mountain of rubble. Metal rods and pieces of cement fell down on top of people. You could see limb pieces- arm, legs. But you couldn’t recognize all of them.

Your eyes followed her finger as she pointed to the gore display.

“He’s under there…” she replied weakly and let out another pained scream.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as your heart rate quickened. Slowly standing up, you walked over to the mountain of rubble. “Franco?” You called out in a panicked tone.

Silence.

You hurriedly kneeled in front of the mountain and hastily moved the rubble away. Taking piece by piece as you denied the thoughts scurrying through your head.

Almost immediately, your heart dropped down to your stomach as you recognize the veteran necklace. With shaky hands, you reached for the necklace and took it.

Franco was dead.

Your vision blurred as you held the necklace on your chest. You let out a blood curdling scream as you trembled in horror.

The ground shook as more bombs blew off. Troops stampeded through the streets, their weapons aimed at the citizens of San Bandero.

You went back to Esme and tried to pick her up, “Come on,” you grunted as she leaned her weight on you.

Dragging her alongside you, you managed to walk further away from the city and towards the exit. The soldiers bordering the entry/exit road had been killed and now laid there lifeless. Their uniforms stained with the red tint of what could be assumed was their blood. Maybe it was also someone else’s.

As you managed to get her out of the city, you walked through the dense forest and laid her down on the ground as she leaned against a tree.

“I’m going to get help- stay here and don’t make a single sound-“

“Leave me,” Esme interrupted you. Her gaze defeated and weak as she looked up at you. “I’m only going to slow you down. You need to get out here…”

Your eyes softened at her, “I can’t leave you, Esme. You’re coming with me-“

“For fuck’s sake y/n! Just go!” She cut you off again. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Just go…”

You stared at her in silence, your feet frozen in place.

“Esme…”

“Just go. I’m not going to live, you saw what they were doing to us… please, Y/n… just go…” she rolled her head back against the tree and grunted softly in pain.

You stared at her in silence as you contemplated your next actions.

“Y/n, go to La Séten mountain…” she heaved as she tried to breathe, “There’s- there’s a group of people who can help you, give them this.”

She weakly handed you a piece of paper with writing on it. You took it and put it in your pocket as you nodded shortly.

“I will…” you whispered as you looked into her amber eyes, “I’m sorry, Esme…”

Esme gave you a weak and faint smile, “Don’t be sorry… promise you’ll live… for me…”

You nodded and held her hand as your eyes welled up in tears, “I will.”

You leaned closer to her and gave her forehead a gentle kiss. She closed her eyes and exhaled for the last time in her life.

You stifled a sob as you let go of her hand. You’ve lost Franco and now Esme too.

You walked through the forest, making your way to the mountain Esme mentioned.

“Madam President, the city states have been seized and are under troop surveillance.”

“Wonderful, let the Chief in Command proceed with the plan. We mustn’t delay the delivery.”

“Yes, Madam President,” the female assistant walked out of the President’s office, the same one when the announcement was first made. President Mendez let out a soft hum and stared down at the files in her hands.

“Tonight, we will change lives Doctor Ramirez,” she spoke as Doctor Ramirez walked closer to her desk.

“Yes, we will Madam President and it’s all thanks to your help. Without your sponsorship, we couldn’t have progressed so quickly with our research,” Doctor Ramirez was a tall and lanky man with glasses. His hair was neatly parted at the side and his white coat shielded the suit he was wearing underneath. He exuded wealth and power, much like the President herself.

President Mendez laughed and clapped her hands slowly, “Oh.. Doctor Ramirez, you are too humble.”

“Not all Madam President… not at all,” he replied with a quiet tone. His eyes unreadable.

The path to La Sénte Mountain was a rough one. It’s one of the biggest mountains in San Bandero that has been classified as unreachable. There was an abandoned trail that originally was used for horse riding but ever since the country got ruled over by President Mendez, everything turned industrial.

Trees aligned the rail as the tall grass reached up your shins. It had gotten dark by the time the bombs and the shootings all faded in the background. As you took a step up, you turned back to look at the city that was once your home become occupied by soldiers. The helicopter flashed its light in search for citizens. There was smoke and fire coming out of the city from where you stood.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. With a sigh, you continued your trail up the mountain. Unknown to you that you were being watched by eyes hidden in the grass, trees, and bushes.

Hours passed and it was now some time past midnight. You took a break to catch your breath. Sitting down on a rock, you took out the piece of paper Esme gave you.

It was a small map with the word ‘Insurgents’ on it. The map was a layout of Pruye, it contained information about where each government and army building was located around the coast as well as the center of the country.

You tucked it back into your pocket not before hearing a twig snap. Anxiety quickly coursed through your veins and you got up to leave. Whatever was out there was probably not friendly given the current uprising in the country.

With a force against your feet, you kept climbing up the mountain. Climbing for what felt hours until you saw an orange light emitting from a cave.

Fire. Someone had lit up a camp inside a cave in the mountain.

You gripped the edge of the cave and pulled your body up. As you entered, you were immediately met with guns pointed at you. There were about four men pointing their rifles at you as you climbed up. A woman came up to you and dragged you up by your arm, helping you stand on your feet.

There was a table right in the center of the cave with a lantern. And behind that table stood a woman with a scar across her face. Her eye a different color as the scar ran right through it.

“Hold your weapons,” she raised her hand to stop the men from shooting you. The men took two steps back and slowly lowered their weapons. The woman who helped you up left your side and walked back to where the other woman was standing.

“I assume you were told about us,” she began as she went around the table and walked to stand in front of you. She was taller than you by at least two inches. Her hair was short and black. Her skin tanned and full of freckles.

You nodded and took out the note Esme gave you, “A friend of mine told me to come here.”

The woman took the note and inspected it before giving it to the woman who helped you up.

“Another recruit, Esme was really good at recruiting more people,” she said casually. Your eyes widened, she knew Esme?

“I don’t suppose you know what we do or who we are?” She walked back to the table and motioned for you to follow behind her.

As you neared the table, there were papers scattered around messily. Maps and files with important information. The woman turned to you and took out her hand for a handshake, “Name’s Yanira. Welcome to Insurgents.”

You took her hand and shook it with a firm grip, “Insurgents? What are you guys?”

She let go of your hand and focused back down on the table, “We are an organization looking to overthrow President Mendez from her position. She and her minions have been controlling our land far too long. It’s time we claim back what’s ours.”

An anti-government group. And they’re fighting the Pruyanian government for freedom. You furrowed your brows and stared down at the table as well as Yarina kept speaking, “We need as many people as possible if we want to make this happen. You’ve seen how they treat people back in the city states. Why don’t you join us?”

You looked at her with wide eyes, “What? Why would you want me to join? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

Yarina chuckled softly, “You’ll learn. We’ve got plenty of people who can teach you different things,” she leaned closer to you, “We’ve been preparing for this moment. All we need is more help. And you- I have a feeling you can help us big time,” she whispered and then leaned away.

She focused back on the table and continued discussing whatever it was that she was talking to the other people.

Join them? You can help them? Up until now you were just a girl working in a canteen living paycheck to paycheck. And now everything turned upside down. The army has taken control of four city states and you’ve lost more people.

It was no lie that a war was coming but to actually partake in it was terrifying, at least to you. But witnessing how everyone seemed to have the spirit and the faith that everything will work out in their favor is beginning to persuade you.

What more do you have to lose? You’ve lost your family and now your friends. It’s time to fight back for what was once yours.

“Okay,” you nodded slowly and looked at Yarina.

“I’ll join you.”

Yarina smiled brightly and hung an arm around your shoulders, celebrating with the other insurgents.

It all felt so overwhelming yet so real. This was happening and there was no turning back.

“Okay, here’s everything you need to know so far,” Yarina pointed to the map.

“The coast has been guarded up by the navy army of Pruye. President Mendez sent out an order to not let anyone in or out of the country. The ports have been closed and the soldiers are patrolling the beach.”

She then pointed to the center of Pruye, right on San Bandero, “San Bandero has become the military center of the country and is where most of the soldiers have been patrolling. This is where their control comes from. If we can target and destroy their center from this point then we have a chance at liberating the other city states.”

You furrowed your brows, “It’s not easy. I’ve seen what they brought. Tanks and helicopters. Are you sure you want to target them first? What about the civilians?”

Yarina let out a soft exhale, “We can perform an underground evacuation- some of our soldiers will go in the sewers and take people out of the city towards the forest. Once the people have been evacuated, we will proceed and attack the main tower.” She then pointed to a tall building colored in red right in the middle of the map.

“This is where most of the military controls the country. If we can hijack and steal their data, then we can convince the rest of the country to join us. And we can also delay the soldiers from terrorizing other city states.”

She already had a plan for everything. No wonder Esme knew about this. If this group was this good then that means that there’s hope for liberation.

“Okay…” you began slowly, “What do you need me to do?”

“You, my friend, have a special mission,” she slid a piece of paper your way.

“The United States will send some troops over here to aid President Mendez. I want you to go back to San Bandero with a few of my people and infiltrate their meeting location,” her finger pointed to another building on the map, “This place is called La Fundación de Membario. It is heavily guarded by soldiers. The place is where President Mendez is currently staying at. She’s going to personally welcome the Americans and give them a run down of what Pruye has been up to. She’ll most likely tell them about us and knowing her-“ her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as she stared at you.

“She’ll want the Americans to target us.”

You pinched your brows together and looked back down at the files of the American soldiers that were expected to come, “But why is the U.S. sending their military over here?”

“Because President Mendez sent an emergency alert to their President. She declared her country was threatened by us and needed backup. So, the U.S. playing God in all wars- decided to send their people over here to control us.”

You looked up at her from the files as she spoke again, “But you know what I think? I think they don’t stand a chance against us. We know the country better than anyone. They’ll die right before they can touch land,” she replied quietly.

She sounded like she wasn’t lying. It was a promise to herself and to the people of Pruye.

“When do I start?” You asked after putting the files back down on the table.

“Tomorrow morning. You can stay at our camp and we’ll teach you the basics. For now, you should rest. We’ve a long day tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder and walked deeper into the cave. The other insurgents gave you a look and some gave you a firm nod as they followed their leader.

You exhaled shakily as you looked out the cave. From now on, you were a soldier. No longer the girl working in a canteen. That life was long gone.

You were now part of the Revolution.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon #di leon

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