CC Draws Things

"Show me?" Ben pleaded before she could leave it at that, "Please, I want to know. I need to understand where this pain is from, why you were so afraid."

Her hands moved to his temples where they hesitated, "Are you certain? This isn't something light Ben, it's what shaped everything I did afterward."

"Yes," Ben told her firmly, "I meant what I said, I need to understand what happened. If I don't I'll just go over it in my mind again and again and make it worse and worse. I don't want to do that anymore, I'm too tired." He was certain of that, whatever she'd seen that shook a woman he'd thought unshakeable, he needed to see it too.

The explosion was brighter than even the daylight, a blue-white, that hurt, cutting behind Ben's eyelids! The snap BANG of it breaking the sound barrier rattled him down to his bones, and the shockwave chucked him like a ragdoll! Instinctively he grabbed the child and held him tight to his chest, shielding him with his arms!

Surely, Ben thought dizzily to himself, a signal that bright, loud, and obvious, must be impossible to miss…

Ben leaned back against the tree, looking up through the dense leaves at some small feathered creatures pecking and prodding away at the things crawling along the branches. As far as places to begin his journey of self-discovery™ a swamp seemed almost poetic. Start crawling out of the figurative mud by crawling out of the literal mud. Or maybe it was the growing, nagging, feeling that his having ended up here wasn't an accident and an unnerving thought began to form in his head.

"If this is Dagobah," he firmly told the universe, "I'm out. I'll turn myself in, to the first Republic Officer I find."

"Fortunate for you then that this isn't Dagobah,"

Long long ago, in a galaxy far far away... "I wonder how revolting it was for you to pretend to play nice, just to save your own skin? I can't wait to see what the New Republic decides to do with your worthless hide. Execution is always an option, but I think I'm going to suggest imprisonment in the worst cell they have. One of those old ones the Empire made for Jedi. Just leave you in there alone to rot."

Long long ago, in a galaxy far far away... Ben smirked, resting his chin on his hand, "Oh you would be surprised." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I learned my first curse words from my mother. The songs I learned from my father and his "friends"." "No," Rey could feel a grin forming on her face, "She never would have let him, surely!" "She didn't like it," Ben shrugged, "But her job was critical and kept her far too busy to spare time keeping me out of trouble," there was a touch of regret and disappointed acceptance in his words, "I spent most of my time with my father anyway. It was that or leave me with a nanny droid, and Whills know I got very good at escaping from them fairly early on and it wasn’t wise to leave me alone." Rey laughed, trying to picture a tiny little Ben, all pudgy baby limbs and wild hair, sneaking past fussy droids to find his parents. She hoped it was as adorable as she imagined. "I still don't know that I entirely believe you. A bar or anywhere else Han might go for fun is absolutely not any place for a child." "Pot to the kettle. I can prove it." "How?" "Name a song. I bet you I know it."

“What- what the fuck is happening? What the hell are you?!” he croaked shrilly in rising panic.

Simmons tilted his large head, an ear flicking up, “A werewolf.” simply stated like Grif was an idiot.

The next day Church took to scratching at the doors. A faint barely there thing you had to strain to hear. Sometimes Grif thought he heard other people talking, but he never went to check. He knew they weren't really there. No matter how real their pleading cries and screams might sound.

Simmons made a kind of exhaled grunt, the sort people make when they're relieved but also frustrated, "No. I-" he squirmed, "Look, I get the whole 'when you're ready' mentality, and it's nice and all but I don't think I'll ever BE ready. So...ummm... Give me until...end of the month? After the full moon? I'll figure something out by then."

The camera feed that served as his helmet’s main source of vision glitched and fractured, and it took him a second to piece together what he was seeing, trying to parse it all together even as consciousness began to leave him again. Dirt. Rocks. Dry grass. Sideways. Sunlight. Shadows. Movement. Legs? Distant. Color. Laying beside him. Armor. Crumpled. Mangled. Streaked with dirt and liquid red, dark and bright. Maroon.

...Simmons…? I said I’d do it and I did! :D a fic based off the sketches for Sketchtober! (links to them can be found in the chapter notes or by searching my rvb tag!)

Wasn't this the part where things got all flowery and saccharine sweet as the girl's heart got all fluttery at the sight of this dude she was just now infatuated with? Writing it like it was love when really they were just going to fu-

Simmons started with surprise and blinked at him, "Oh... Uh, I didn't expect you to be awake..."

"Where are my pants?" Grif blurted like a gigantic idiot.

"What does that have to do with Cinnamon?" Grif asked, the pit in his stomach he'd been trying to ignore all day feeling far too obvious now.

"Because from everything you've told me Grif," the old woman put her hand on his knee in a comforting manner, "It sounds like you were already ready to make him part of your home, and it sounds like he'd already accepted you. So be patient, it will hurt, it always does when you don't know what will happen. I'm sure he's probably frightened too, but have a little faith, alright?"

"Sorry," Grif babbled, supporting himself with the edge of the table, footing unsure as the brick turned into a bowling ball, "I um.. I just remembered- I'm supposed to, to, call! Kai! Check up. I forgot!"

Tucker blinked, "Oh, shit. Yeah, call! Make sure she didn't burn down your house..." his eyes widened, "Maybe she's doing shots with your dog!"

Grif expected there to be people at the park. And there were. He expected there to be dogs. And there were. He did expect noise, like barking and shit. But um… Not this.

Grif captured the wiggling head in his hands and stared right down that massive snout into glaring green, "Listen," he said firmly, shushing the next attempted grumble, "this is best for everyone. We just have to live this lie now, okay? Forever."

Clothing and Hood worn upon awakening to the nightmare of blood and beasts. Not typical clothing for Yharnam, perhaps it is of foreign origin. It is said, after all, the traveler came to Yharnam from afar. Perhaps its wearer had to stay out of sight, and travel by cover of darkness?

The bandage is terribly worn and unsanitary. A faint memory recalls blood ministration, involving the transfusion of unknown blood. Not long after. the nightmare began.

But, without memory, who will ever know? - Compiled description of “Foreign Hunter” starting gear, Bloodborne.

A crossover that literally no one asked for, but I'm writing it anyway because I like both these things! That and people were foolish enough to allow me to do it! I present the RvB Bloodborn AU!

Simmons and Grif are two semi-passable (ie shitty) hunters who receive a summons from The Healing Church, asking them to journey to the somewhat unknown city of Yharnam to participate in the Hunter's Dream. It's a pretty odd request to be sure but a hunt is a hunt! You show up, kill some monsters, save some folks, same old same old... Right?

MAJOR spoilers for the game Bloodborne as this fic will follow the plot from the game and the Old Hunter's DLC! There are TONS of characters so everyone will be making an appearance at some point. This will update slower than my other fics as I want to create a piece of art for it since it's such a visually different setting.

If you're really that desperate you can always... Sell your body? ...I guess?

Guest starring a date with Lopez and Sheila!