rogueonekink | ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

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MOD POST || FILLS POST || DISCUSSION POST

RULES TO KEEP IN MIND:

No kink or pairing bashing, YKINMK (your kink is not my kink), if you are uncomfortable with a post for any of these reasons, ignore it.
OT, any off topic discussion should be moved to the discussion post.
No prompt/thread hijacking, if you want something differently done create your own prompt/fill.
Non anon-posting is allowed.
PROMPT-FREEZES, I doubt we will have any major freezes unless activity goes crazy after the film comes out, so I'm not going to go into this yet.

WHAT IS NOT ALLOWED:

There is no current limit on how many prompts you can submit daily, but please remember if you are submitting 10 prompts a day, to try and fill one for someone else.
NO UNDERAGE PROMPTS OR FILLS. I know some kink memes allow this, but I have to follow official US Federal law guidelines on this subject.
CROSSOVERS - Are acceptable, but please remember Rogue One characters have to still be part of the prompt/fill.

RULES FOR PROMPTS:

TITLE, your title should include pairings and characters (if apply) and a quick general idea of what the prompt is about. You might also include warnings on the title.
PROMPT WORD LIMIT, I'm not going to include any word limits on prompts for the time being, but please use common sense. If a prompt is going over 1,000 words try to cut it down.
Again, no thread hijacking, similar prompts are allowed if you are inspired by someone else's prompt but want something done differently. Yet, please note prompts that are just a complete repost of another will be deleted. Thread reposting will be allowed in a separate post later on.
WARNINGS, I'm not going to enforce mandatory warnings (for now), but again, common sense here. If your prompt/fill has a sensitive topic that needs a warning (gore, rape, etc.), include it.
Be courteous, no fighting is a big one. But if someone fills your prompt try to leave at least a "thank you".

RULES FOR FILLS:

Remember to share your fill in the fills post so others can find them.
You can link your fill to outside sources (tumblr, AO3, FF.net, etc.).
Multiple fills are allowed, the more the merrier.
If you are linking to a previous fill or story that might meet the guidelines of someone's prompt it does not count as a fill.
De-anon-ing is fine, just remember to include a link under your fill.

HAVE FUN! <3

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They settle into bed, Chirrut warm against his side. He listens to Chirrut’s soft breathing, and feels the relief wash over him. They are alive. They made it. He tugs the quilt over their shoulders to keep the cold out, and Chirrut snuggles closer into his chest. He listens, and can just make out Bodhi’s soft snore. For so long, Chirrut had been the only one who mattered, the only one who needed his protection. Listening to the others sleeping, however, made him realize that perhaps his attachment was growing. Baze reassured himself again. Everyone is alive. Everyone made it.

A soft flutter against his stomach reminds him that his family was growing in more ways than one. He feels the relaxation slip away from him, replaced by a hard knot in his stomach.

“You protect, Baze,” Chirrut says softly against his skin, “but you cannot change the will of the force or pry open the hand of destiny. Some things are out of your control.”

Chirrut traced the edge of his collarbone, then turned to whisper his fingers down his side. “All these years, and you still deny it.”

“I don’t.” Baze took his husband’s hand and set it back against his chest.

“You’re afraid.” Chirrut wrapped their hands together.

“How are you not?” Baze tenses as Chirrut guides his hand down to the soft curve of his stomach. Another slight movement against his palm, and he realizes Chirrut has to feel every one of these movements.

“I’m terrified,” Chirrut states, matter-of-factly. He does not seem disturbed by his own words, and Baze feels as if the wind has been kicked out of him. Chirrut doesn’t get the option to turn away. He must live with the facts every waking moment, has to face his reality more intimately than Baze could ever imagine.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he wraps his arms around his husband, as if he were a small child that believed kisses really do heal wounds. Chirrut sank into his embrace.

“Don’t be. You have every reason to be afraid,” Chirrut mumbled against a shoulder.
Baze relaxed his grip slightly. “No. Being in denial is harmful to you.”

“You-“

“Can you feel their life force?” Baze had only asked that question once, a lifetime ago. Chirrut smiles against his skin.

“I can, and it’s beautiful. I enjoy the moments I’ve had with my children.” Chirrut hums, softly.

Baze thinks back through his memories, and tries to pick out an enjoyable one, but it doesn’t come. Chirrut, nineteen, and trembling head to toe as he tries to sputter out the news. Hammering a wooden box, five years later. A young woman, months after the fall of Jedha, pain in her eyes as she sees the newborn. An old woman, in the days of the Empire, telling him it was for the best - starvation and Stormtroopers were too great a danger. Chirrut, through it all, whispering his
mantra as if saying it with more conviction will make it be true.

“Pain and happiness love to be close together.” Chirrut rubs his thumb over cheekbone.

Baze thinks of holding his son, far too tiny and struggling for breath, and not being sure what emotions the tears came from. Chirrut wipes away his tears, now as he did then, and in the dim light he realizes Chirrut has his own tears.

“I love you.” Baze rarely felt the need to say this out loud, but the moment almost seemed to beg for it.

Chirrut laughs softly. “And you, Baze Malbus.”
_

Everything ends far too quickly.

Baze curses the stars and everything else he can think of in this galaxy as he watches his husband, sweat beading the side of his face, breathing heavily as he rides out the tail end of the latest contraction.

“Our child is far too stubborn,” he’d said just hours earlier.

Baze had listened to the nurse’s reassurances that far earlier births had survived, but he knew the rebellion didn’t have access to much of the technology that made it possible. Still, it was better than anything they had living on Jedha.

Chirrut crushed his hand again as the next contraction started, sooner than the last. The nurse was throwing constant encouragement as they neared closer and closer, but Baze kept silent. He was trying to be steady, dependable, but the anxiety inside of him was spreading through his chest.

“Ah, that’s the head, much closer than I thought,” the nurse explained, sending another nurse out of the room. Baze was starting to wonder if something had broken in his hand as Chirrut bared down again. As the doctor arrived, Baze heard a small cry. “Congratulations,” he thought he heard someone say, but time seemed distorted as he watched the doctor cut the umbilical cord and carry the newborn straight out the door, to the medicine that might save a life. There was a soft clang as the nurse set down a bucket for the afterbirth.

Soon enough, the two of them were left alone in the small medbay room. “She’s alive,” Chirrut breathes. Baze notices his own body has developed a tremor, a mass of raw nerve endings.

“She?”

“They just announced it. You’re not going deaf, are you?”

“No,” he responded. He grabbed a towel, and wiped the cooling sweat off his husband’s body. “You did it.”

Chirrut smiled. “So it seems,” he said, before beginning a meditation. Baze sighed, an attempt to shed nervous energy, and stepped out of the room, only to be immediately mobbed.

Bodhi wrapped his arms around him, and Baze felt a familiar tremble. Cassian patted him on the back before explaining where they’d taken his daughter. His daughter. It was going to take a while before he would be comfortable with the idea, but it seemed he had that while, as Cassian was

excitedly explaining the doctor’s estimation of a 90% chance of survival.
They crowd the small room, looking at the infant invaded with feeding tubes and an oxygen machine. They watched, because they could not touch. A tiny chest moved up and down.

“You can see her veins.” Jyn is the first to speak, breath betraying a horrified wonder.

Baze says nothing, but watches and waits. Keeps his due diligence, ready to ensure no one or thing, not even the force itself, could still this tiny being’s breath. The doctors eventually force him out for the night, and he wanders through the halls to his husband.

“She’s beautiful,” Baze says as a greeting.

“I know, I feel it,” Chirrut says, but then his face is full of that cocky smile. “With the two of us for dads, how could she not be?”

As the sky became lighter, Baze once again settled Chirrut into his wheelchair, and they made their way to that tiny room, where they sat, Baze watching her every movement. If the wait seemed endless to Baze, they must be torturous to Chirrut, his senses only picking up the steady hum of machinery.

“It is strange,” Chirrut mused. “We were together for so long, and now there is an impossible divide between.”

Baze tells him every detail he can muster, from the tips of her eyelashes to the soft nails to the exposed veins. Fiber by fiber, he tries to translate the babe before him into words. When he’s exhausted himself, Chirrut gets as close to their daughter as he can, and begins his prayers, telling her for the first time of the bond between all living things. The force is with me and I am one with the force.
_

Cassian, dirty from grease and engine oil, stops by. “Have you decided on a name yet?” He’s watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

Chirrut stops his meditations to answer. “It’s customary tradition on Jedha to name a child on the first day of their eleventh month, and not before.”

“Eight standard months,” Baze translates.

Jyn and Bodhi come too, watching and asking questions with the same eagerness. Bodhi asks about traditions he’d long since forgotten, and Jyn about the days before the Empire.
_

She’s 18 days old when they first hold her. Chirrut goes first, hand finding hand and tracing the tiny fingers. He lifts her up, gently, so not to disturb the remaining machinery, and lays her on his chest. Feet, legs, belly, arms, face, he takes it all in with loving hands. He traces an ear, and Baze can see tears lurking in the corners of his eyes. Her movements of rising and falling continue on her father’s chest, and he can see Chirrut take his breaths in unison.

Baze feels content to watch the moment stretch out forever, but then Chirrut turns to him with that disarming smile and shifts his weight towards Baze. Carefully, she is switched between fathers, and it is then, with her tiny fist clenched against his chest, that he realizes Chirrut is not the only one he’d follow anywhere.

A/N:
Did not intend to write this much but it kept on going!

Oh god, I did not expect one of their children to actually be BORN before it died. That hit me in the heart with a sack of bricks. Legit bawling right now.

thank you so much this is so beautiful...

*sobbing* this is beautiful. Thank you.

*cries* So beautiful and perfect <3

Would you ever consider posting this somewhere like AO3 so we can fav and bookmark it because this is a masterpiece <3

Thank you!! No plans right now to post elsewhere, but feel free to save it on your computer if you'd like!

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ROGUE ONE KINK MEME: ROUND ONE

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)

Re: FILL: Baze/Chirrut, mpreg, miscarriages (PART 2)