#‘‘And​ why weren’t you at the post-fight talks with the other ancients when they fought Phantom?

[improbably-luminescent]

Clockwork and Frostbite, (whose domains would already have a fascinating relationship as the ancients of Time and Healing. Time heals all wounds etc. but also the fundamental difference between a healer’s benevolent neutrality vs Clockwork’s distant and potentially harsh form of timeline-pruning neutrality) having divorced parent energy over Danny “I don’t have or need ghost parents” Phantom is everything I never knew I needed.

Thank you for this.

It’s just really important that I tell you this at 3am but Frostbite thinks Clockwork is a deadbeat ghost dad to Danny

[niennavalier]

AC: Rogue - Second Chances

Summary: He's not an Assassin anymore - Shay has no doubts about that. He's less sure where that leaves him in the world, or in the context of this centuries-long war between Assassins and Templars. But when he's presented with a second chance - from a Templar, no less - he has to question all that he's done in the past. And all that he'll do in the future.

Character study set during AC: Rogue Sequence 3-1 "The Color of Right".

(Also posted on AO3)

*****

Shay isn’t sure what he’d been expecting. There’s little he remembers of the moment after being shot, aside from perhaps accepting his fate, knowing that, at the very least, he’d stopped the Assassins from leveling more cities. But he hadn’t expected to wake up at all, much less in a comfortable home and cared for by a kindly couple.

He’d not thought that he could be surprised by much else, but then Mrs. Finnegan - Cassidy - had handed him some clothing, and now, dressing himself, he can’t help but think.

They were our son's . Those words - they keep circling through his head as he readjusts the coat, finishes tightening his belt. Because he can't keep the thought from his mind.

The Finnegans' son - he'd been a Templar.

He'd not wanted to believe it at first, seeing the crosses at his shoulders, telling himself it was something else, something he'd seen elsewhere. It wasn't the Templar cross, and the couple who'd taken him in and cared for him as their own - they weren't Templars. They weren’t the same people he’d spent years fighting.

But pulling the strap for his rifle over his shoulder, the other cross settling on top of his heart, it’s not something he can deny. Somehow, he’s certain of it; whether the Finnegans are Templars themselves, their son had been.

And now he’s wearing the lad’s clothes. It’s something that makes him all the more aware of the hidden blades at his wrists - nothing feels quite right about any of this. Not that he can do much about it.

Sighing and shaking the thoughts from his head for now, he takes the time to tie his hair away from his face and happens to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Looking as he does, he has no doubt his younger self would've thought him a Templar himself, some fanatic obsessed with order. With his weapons returned, he looks every bit a man ready to fight for all that he’d once fought against . Though it's not like he has much choice; he doubts his old clothes had survived the ordeal.

He's not mourning their loss, though. It's a sudden realization, and one he wasn’t expecting to have, but he hadn't been eager to don the hood again. And he still isn't, perhaps would never be. Stranger still, it's not a thought he can bring himself to regret.

Wearing the uniform of the people he’d called enemies is unsettling, but as his last memories of the Homestead flash through his mind - all those he’d called friends, called family , suddenly turned against him - he’s certain that wearing his own robes would’ve been worse.

As he steps back into the main room, though, it’s like none of that even matters. The way Cassidy’s eyes light up - “Oh, well don’t you look a right gentleman!” - it fills him with something warm that he can’t remember when he last felt. Warmth. Family. Feeling like he doesn’t have to work to earn affection, the way he suspects it feels to have parents, despite never properly knowing his own.

Perhaps it shouldn’t feel as novel as it does, but he can’t help freezing on the spot. How is he meant to respond to that?

So he doesn't respond, at least, not directly. He asks about the Manuscript - lost, apparently, and some mix of relief and anger flares in his chest. Good, better that no one can get their hands on the damned thing. Good-hearted folk like these - they wouldn't be caught in the crossfire ever again. He'd see to that.

***

He's not expecting it when a man approaches him from behind, the cross on his sash - a Templar cross, it must be - the first and only thing Shay sees. His hand is reaching back for his pistols before he even realizes it - trust isn't something he's keen on having in spades for now.

"Be at ease, Master Cormac, we are friends.” Doubtful. But the man does know his name, somehow, even if Shay can’t guess why. Does he also know -? He must. This dance they’re doing - it’s too familiar. Both of them know what the other is (or rather, was , Shay supposes). He’d have to tread carefully; he has no idea what this Templar wants with him. “The Finnegans were worried you might take matters into your own hands. I am Colonel George Monro.”

Shay nods, the safest thing he can think to do. “Colonel.” The Finnegans, he’s willing to trust, and the Colonel knowing them might have meant something had their son not also been a Templar. As it stands, the connection means little.

“I came to help, but it seems I am late. Thank you for dealing with these foul criminals.” He eyes the gang leader (the Assassin-trained gang leader) Shay had killed just minutes earlier. “They were a blight on New York.”

The words are quick to rub him wrong. “What do you care?” For all Shay might agree about the gangs, he’d yet to meet a British officer who gave a damn about the colonists. Much less one who was a Templar, besides. “You Redcoats are nothing but landlords. The townsfolk here are grinding away, trying to make a living.” And for what, really?

“I cannot blame you for having that impression.” Of course he can’t. It’s true, and Shay had seen it himself. The restrictions keeping merchants from trading as they pleased, the dangers and hardships braved by the colonists only for their earnings to line the pockets of the Crown. It’s the truth, not just an impression. “Some of my comrades have been less than helpful. But I take a different approach.”

“And what is that?” The words are bitter on his tongue.

“I care. I want to see these colonists safe and prosperous.” Years of training are screaming in his head not to trust this man. That he's just another Templar snake who's willing to say anything if it gets him his way. There's no way for Shay to know if he means any of the things coming out of his mouth.

"Noble words." But were any of them true? He’d naively thought others as righteous as the Colonel made himself out to be, and they’d all proven otherwise.

"Perhaps actions will convince you otherwise, Master Cormac." The Colonel gestures for him to lead the way, and he hesitates for a moment - it's a trick, it has to be - before thinking deeper on it. Betrayal still lingers in his mind, learning that the people he’d called his family cared more about ancient artifacts than they did him, or the thousands of innocent lives on the line. He knows now that they must have lied to him all along, and, really, were they all that different from the Templars? Now, he’s not an Assassin anymore, and that’s not enough to change any of what he believes about the Templars, but it’s enough to make him think.

Perhaps he could hear the Colonel out, if nothing else. At worst, his beliefs would be confirmed yet again. At best…

He's not ready yet to think there can be a better outcome.

***

“You can do great things for this city and its citizens. After all, a man needs purpose.” Those are the last words he hears from the Colonel before the man takes his leave, and they cut into him deeper than he'd like to admit. Though it's not for a bad reason of any sort. The way he explains himself - Shay can't help but feel like he can trust him. Perhaps because it sounds like the Colonel trusts him in return, despite having never met, and the two of them having stood on opposite sides. There's more than a chance that it should worry him, but instead it makes him think of something else - the orders and harsh reprimands from the Assassins. He'd known none of them (save maybe Liam) had ever really trusted him or his skills, but he'd not thought that much of it at the time. Assumed it was normal, being that he'd been the newest one there, but now, the way the Colonel was talking to him, he's starting to rethink that. Perhaps starting to resent that, too, whether he likes it or not.

It’s a selfish reason to make any kind of decision, and he knows as much, refreshing as all of it might feel. It’s not something he’d act on alone - he’s already seen what blind faith and desperation can do, and who can pay the price of death and destruction as a result. Lisbon flashes through his mind, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday. Screams of pain and terror still ring in his ears as smoke and sulfur make his eyes and nose sting, heat from the flames burning his cheeks. His rib smarts, and for a moment, he thinks it’s from tumbling through a crumbling building, crashing against walls and floors and furniture, not from falling off a cliff at the Homestead.

He forces himself to breathe and shakes the memories from his mind. That’s what he can’t let happen again. That’s what he has to make right, no matter what it takes.

And so he can't help but feel drawn in by all the things Colonel Monro said, about just doing right by the people. Making their lives better, not through freedom or control - not through the Assassins or Templars - but just by helping where they can.

As badly as he wants to remain skeptical, he can’t find a problem in that, at least.

But he still stands and watches for some time after that, wanting to see for himself. He stays along the sidelines as the citizens of New York wander by, their eyes turning bright as they hear that the old building is to be restored. From their conversations, he learns that the place had once been a church, left to disrepair now with the threat of war hanging over them. And seeing it ready to be restored - it visibly fills them with hope, and that lights something warm in his chest. Something that he's not sure when he felt last.

It reminds him of the way he’d felt when he’d first joined the Assassins, hopeful, and like he was finally sure of what he was doing. But he’d been a fool, then - he knows that, now - and hadn’t known that he’d hurt far more people than he’d help.

He can't say where he stands when it comes to the Assassins and Templars, to the endless war he'd fought in without ever really understanding it, but he's always trusted himself to know what's right. And this - seeing the lives of normal, everyday folk made easier - he can feel is right.

And for now, perhaps that would be enough.

He can accept that much, and knows he should head back to the Finnegans - all else aside, he trusts them. But as he winds through the familiar streets of his home, he can't help but think on the Colonel's offer. The man may be a Templar, but what he's offering - this way to just help people - it feels like a second chance. Like a way to start atoning for all the lives lost in Lisbon. Exactly what the Assassins wouldn't allow him to do.

Perhaps… perhaps this is the way forward. He may not be fully ready to trust the man yet, for all that he seems honorable, but doing some good for the people of the city, protecting them against those who would do them harm - that much, he would do.

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 5

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link! , Chapter 2 Link! , Chapter 3 Link! , Chapter 4 Link!

Summary: There’s nothing that brings opposing sides together like a mutual enemy, though who that enemy is...

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Author’s Note: I wanted to take a short break after THE SPECIAL to retool, replan, and rewrite some stuff in the next few chapters and make sure they would fit with what I have already posted, as well as wait for the last episode to be subbed so I could double check what I had in this chapter before posting. This fic is already canon divergent (and now a full on AU) so that helped a lot. All you need to know now is that in SFAUT another year is added in the timeline and 1 New Year has already passed. I will provide spoiler warnings for any chapter in the future since some stuff in the special will be relevant to this fic now. (There are none in this one! No Spoilers Inside!)

Chapter 5: Gladly, your journey ends here with me

“Come on, come on Jin... Ah ha!” Yin let out a triumphant yell as the two Calabashes finally connected remotely, one hidden tucked away where their now unwanted business partner hopefully couldn’t find it, and he quickly closed out and hid all the windows he could on the computers that would give away their plan. It was a long shot... but hopefully this would work. He just had to trust that his elder could handle this on his own.

----------

“You weren’t kidding when you said everything smelled dull,” Mei said with a frown. They were walking around the city looking for anything that could possibly help them get out of here. So far no luck, everything appeared to just be as normal as normal could possibly be. MK had even tried breaking something with his staff on “accident” and only got a slightly angry but forgiving shopkeeper once he paid for the broke table out of it. “Now that I’m really paying attention to it I can’t help but notice it.”

“It’s bizarre,” Red Son chimed in with a growl, true frustration having long since started to bloom in his expression. “Nothing’s happened! No one is attacking us, no one is trying to make everything perfect. It’s just... Normal!” The last word was screeched out, his hair flaming up before he took a breath and calmed back down. “I don’t think this is Jin and Yin anymore. It’s too different from what you described to us.”

Despite not wanting to, MK couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “I think you’re right... this has to be a Calabash, I’m sure of it! But unless they got really good at making more than two step plans really quickly, someone must be helping them.”

Though who that could possibly be they had no clue. As far as the three of them knew the Gold and Silver Demons weren’t really affiliated with anyone specifically. They seemed to run around doing their own thing for the most part.

“There’s got to be some kind of clue around here about how to get out, nothing technological is perfect!” Mei chimed up with a wide smile. “Who knows, maybe the solution will just hit us when we least expect i-”

“WATCH OUT!”

The trio jumped in surprise at the yell, voice familiar but sounding just off enough to startle them. They looked up as a cloud barreled down and ducked right before it flew right into an alley behind them, a series of yelps and crashes and curses being let out by whoever had hitched a ride on it.

“God bloody damn it how does he even fly this stupid thing?” They heard from inside, and they all carefully stepped into the alleyway. MK pulled out his staff, Mei her sword, and Red Son lit his hands on fire in preparation.

“UH...” MK lowered his staff just a bit when he caught sight of the figure in front of them, turned away from them and brushing dust and dirt off his clothes with his tail swiping madly at the air like he didn’t exactly know what to do with it. “M-Monkey King?”

“Monkey King” tensed, turning quickly with an uncharacteristic look of surprise and... fear? Fear on his face. “Uh... you’re sorta right, MK.”

“Ok, you are definitely not Monkey King, he NEVER calls me MK and he definitely does not have an accent like that,” MK said as he raised his staff back up with a raised brow. “And you are definitely not the fake Monkey King we just left who did call me Bud and Kid instead. Who the hell are you!?”

The new fake Monkey King raised his hands in a sign of surrender, laughing awkwardly. “Whoa, whoa! No need to attack, I’m here to help you! Surprised you don’t recognize me already, do we really sound that much alike?”

“Wait a- JIN!?” “THAT’S Jin?” “But how?” MK, Red Son, and Mei all shouted one right after the other, looking between the Jin-Turned-Monkey-King and each other.

“Change back!” MK shouted, extended his staff just enough to poke Jin in the chest. “Stop looking like that right now!”

“I can’t,” Jin sighed out, taking a step back and away from the staff jutting into his rib cage. “I mean, I can if I try for a minute, but it’s not safe! I need to be disguised and apparently using this digital form already made up with your info this is the best disguise the program decided for me.”

“AH HA I was right this is a Calabash!” MK shouted in victory before realizing this just confirmed what they had already agreed to. “Ahem... OK... why do you need to be disguised? And why did you say you were here to help us? Isn’t this one of your plans?”

Jin winced at the questions and looked away, rubbing one of his arms. It looked... bizarre and wrong to see on the Sun Wukong’s face. Sure, MK had seen the ancient being look vulnerable before but it was never anything like this. “Yin and I were... tricked into helping someone we shouldn’t have. She’s got control of everything right now, except an extra Calabash Yin has me in that I’m remotely connected to you from. I can help you get out of here if you just trust me for a bit.”

“Oh, like we’re just going to trust you like that!” Mei growled, taking a step closer. “How do we know this isn’t some kind of trick? That this isn’t part of your plan?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna admit that me and Yin aren’t really that good at plans,” Jin deadpanned with a frown. “I mean, we’re pretty smart! We made an entire virtual reality system that can hold multiple people shrunk down with magic and replicate anything from their own memories after all! But we’re not really good at more than 2 step evil plans.”

“He has a point,” Red Son interjected. “We fought them 2 months ago and even then their plan was ‘take control of the city water supply, fight Monkie Kid’. They didn’t have a plan aside from just... holding the water and hoping they’d win.”

“See, bad at plans!” Jin pipped up with a wide awkward smile, and that felt more natural if a little exaggerated to see. “But! We’re good at tech, and the problem here is tech we personally made. So I can help you!”

“Again, why though?” MK asked, lowering his staff cautiously. “Why help us? Wouldn’t whoever you’re working for getting rid of us be good for you?”

Jin frowned again, looking down at his (Sun Wukong’s) hands. “... It was my idea. A week or so ago... A woman came by asking for a job, told us to just call her Vapor, learned real quick that wasn’t her name after she dropped her disguise... We needed the extra cash to fill a tech order for another demon and it sounded easy enough. Make a Calabash convincing enough to trick the Monkie Kid’s senses so that he couldn’t get out from the inside. And it was easy, we already had everything being worked on ourselves! But then...” He scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away. “She started to want to get all three of ya. Started talking about wanting it to be ‘worse for him, more painful’. We didn’t know what she was talkin about, but we knew from context clues that whoever ‘him’ was wasn’t you.”

MK let his staff down entirely but didn’t put it away, earning odd looks from Mei and Red Son. He shook his head, gesturing to Jin and then their weapons to urge them to stand down for the moment.

“Then she started to get frustrated,” Jin continued. “She pushed us to work harder, faster, and when we tried to cut off the deal she... she pulled out this kind of smoking pipe and I don’t know what the hell she has in it but that stuff knocked us out harder than any drink ever did. When we woke up we were... stuck.”

“Stuck?” MK asked. “Wait, you work for other demons?”

“Yeah yeah, we make tech for other demons, that ain’t the point right now!” Jin cleared his throat, continuing his explanation. “She had some kind of... of sealin charm on the building. No demons gettin in, no demons gettin out. ‘cept for her, she’s got some kinda charm around her neck that lets her leave whenever she wants. We’ve been stuck in our little hidden HQ ever since and whenever we get too rowdy or annoying she just puts us to sleep again. I don’t know how much more of that we can breathe in before it starts to actually hurt us, and whatever she has planned wasn’t for you. You’re just some kinda-a pawn. To hurt someone else. That’s why I want to help you, she’s hurtin my brother and as much as we want to take you down the Gold and Silver Demons will not be used as pawns in other’s schemes.”

“So it’s a pride thing,” Red Son said as he crossed his arms. “You’re helping us because this Vapor woman hurt your pride.”

“Yeah, and what of it?” Jin crossed his arms in turn, glaring at the fire demon. “Need a better reason or do you not want my help?”

“We want your help!” MK jumped in with a sigh. “Any help, even help from pride alone, is probably needed right now.”

“Great!” Jin smiled wide again, and the quickly changing expressions he was showcasing on the Monkey King’s face were starting to give the trio tonal whiplash. “Should be simple enough, she’s out and about right now so all we gotta do is get to a little something Yin and I added in while she wasn’t looking before she gets back.” He smirked, prideful and eager to brag. “An emergency access hub. Didn’t have time to program it to pop up on command, but once we get to our hidden HQ we can access it and force this Calabash to just spit us out! You probably could have found it yourselves... eventually...”

“That’s... surprisingly easy and simple,” Mei said, but smiled after a moment. “But worth a shot I guess. If you’re lying we can just kick your butt and get out of here the old fashioned way!”

This caused Jin to laugh nervously again, raising his hands up. “No lying, promise! Just follow me-EAGH!” When he took a step he stumbled, righting himself as he flailed his arms and sighed. “Stupid tail, how do you balance with this thing?” He took another careful step, then another, and after a moment he just grabbed his tail and yelped at the sensation and wrapped it around his wrist before walking normally. “This is bloody weird.”

“I’ll say...” MK muttered as he watched Jin step out of the alley and wave his free hand, the air in front of him glitching in a familiar way before a digital floating map rested before him. “... ok, that’s kinda cool.”

Jin paused, looking back at them with a bit of a flushed tint on Monkey King’s ears. “Uh... thanks? Just follow me, this will tell us if anything pings the system to alert it that I’m here or she comes back.”

They followed Jin for a moment, fake people staring at the full form of Sun Wukong in awe. The same way MK and the others would have expected them to in real life.

“Wait, hold on!” Mei piped up after a moment. “You said you found out Vapor wasn’t this mystery woman’s name, but you never told us who she was! What’s her real name, maybe we already know who she is!”

“Yeah, if we know who she is we can plan on how to kick her ass!” MK agreed.

Jin shook his head. “I don’t know if even you three can fight her at this point, she’s strong. Way stronger than I already knew she could have gotten over the years. You’re gonna need more than a little help to take her down.” He turned to Red Son.

“What?” Red Son questioned, tips of his hair sparking as he tensed in confusion and worry. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because Vapor was-AAAAAHHHHH!”

And Jin fell to the ground screaming.

----------

“And to what do we owe the.... honor of your visit,” The Demon Bull King growled lowly, arms raised slightly at his sides as Princess Iron Fan stood on his shoulder. Her own glare was even more formidable than her husband’s.

“Brother Ox,” Sun Wukong greeted as he bowed in respect. “I-”

“We stopped being brothers in name long ago, Sun Wukong,” DBK growled low again. “Now state your business here before I lose my patience and we continue our last fight.”

“I’m surprised we aren’t already fighting...” Pigsy whispered to Tang. “This is weird...”

And Pigsy was right, the situation was weird. They had snuck in, Wukong ready to fight and get them out of there if things had gotten out of hand. Instead, they were greeted with a very annoyed but subdued Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan who looked ready and willing to murder all of them if given half an excuse... but for some reason were holding themselves back.

“Demon Bull King,” Wukong corrected himself with a small frown, holding his bow for an extra moment before straightening himself. “I have come to ask for a temporary truce... and your help.”

DBK grit his teeth, leaning down until he was nearly nose to nose with the Monkey King, PIF holding onto his horn on her side to remain stable. “And what makes you think I would ever agree to that?”

“The reason I am asking for it,” Wukong continued, not even reacting to the snorted breath in his face. “MK, Mei, and your son were supposed to join me on Flower Fruit Mountain this morning. We... have not been able to find them.”

This immediately got both parents attention, DBK narrowing his gaze dangerously as he stood up straight so fast PIF had to hold on tighter to not fall off. “What are you implying?”

“MK, Mei, and Red Son are missing. We want your help to find them.”

[kylorenfanfic]

Long Away - chapter 1

Kylo Ren x Female Reader 

Masterlist

Story: You have been hiding for years, ever since the slaughter in your temple. You were one of the many force-sensitive children that Luke Skywalker was training to be the New Jedi Order. You were there when Ben Solo killed everybody, but you were lucky enough to survive, you weren’t important, he didn’t remember that he let you go by accident. You had given up and ran away to hide in Dantooine, but when you heard that Kylo Ren had become the Supreme Leader, you realized that you couldn’t stay out of it any longer. Finding your way into the First Oder and gaining Kylo Ren’s trust so you could help the Resistance by giving them inside information. But things turned out to be very different than you expected to be the closer you get to the Supreme Leader. A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first fanfic and I am completely nervous about it. I have written more chapters of it already, but I am not sure if I am going to post it. Tell me if you guys like it or if I should keep posting. The first chapters are kinda boring because it’s the context of the whole story. If you wanna be tagged also, let me know. Love, and I hope you enjoy it. Words: 1.6k

It was a warm day in the Fields of Banir. It wasn’t sunny but you could feel the heat. It was the first time in a while that you were leaving the old Jedi Temple. You have been living there for the past few years, ever since you lost everything and everyone. You used your Force abilities to hide yourself, to shield yourself from any other Force sensitive being that might land. You had to go to Garang to get some of the supplies – even though you were living out of things you could collect in the fields. Sometimes you needed stuff, like medicine and fresh clothes, and that was when you would travel to the capital city of Dantooine.

You weren’t used to having many people around – especially when most of were Dantaris – but you still enjoyed having a change of scenery. Sometimes the cold walls of the ancient Temple became too much for you. It was there, in Garang when you first heard it.

“The First Order has a new Supreme Leader” someone around you said, you couldn’t identify the voice among the crowd.

“It is Kylo Ren, you know? That guy in the mask” other person replied.

“Does that mean things are getting worse?” the voice faded away and you couldn’t hear the answer. Kylo Ren was the Supreme Leader now? That meant he wasn’t being controled by someone, he wasn’t being brainwashed to be in the Dark Side. He was fully part of the Dark Side now. And was its leader. You shook your head, that wasn’t your problem. It was when your mind started to fade.

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone screaming. You were lost among the chaos, the buildings were collapsing and there were flames everywhere. “Stay where you are!”, you heard Hylia’s voice in your head.  

Hylia was your best friend, the one who took care of you when you first arrived to the Temple, feeling alone and afraid, after losing your parents and discovering your Force sensitiveness. You couldn’t leave her there to die. You disobeyed her orders and tried to find her. Then you saw him, Ben Solo killing the padawans. Hylia was standing in front of him and with a furious scream, she ran into his direction holding up her green lightsaber. They started to fight and then she saw you, she didn’t say a word, she concentrated, her hand drawn out and in this weak moment the man in front of her killed her with his lightsaber. He turned around to find other remaining padawans and he passed right next to you. He didn’t see you. You ran to Hylia’s body. She was barely alive, wounds from lightsabers do not bleed, but are just as fatal as a blaster shot.

“Hide.” she said. It was when you realized she was using her powers to hide you from Ben. You felt tears on your cheeks. She faded away, hiding your Force signature has weakend her badly wounded body. And you ran, never looking back.”

Hylia died to protect you and her last word was the thing you have been doing ever since. You didn’t want to do anything about what was going on in the galaxy. Let the Resistance and the First Order kill themselves. But now… now things were different. Ben Solo wasn’t a bad person and you knew it, he had saved you once before during training, so long before the massacre happened. Maybe Ben Solo was indeed dead and now all that remained was the devious Kylo Ren, now the Supreme Leader.

It was one of the teachings of a jedi, to never be selfish. You could help to defeat him. You could help to avenge Hylia and all the others that died by his hand. Because now it was just himself, not someone controlling his mind.

You had a feeling. You could do it, you could help somehow. And inside you, you felt the urge to do something, you felt that you couldn’t handle another day of solitude in that goddamn Jedi ruin, another day in this goddamn planet. You had your lightsaber with you, you didn’t need anything else, you could leave everything behind and that was what you did.

You entered that place and it smelt bad, the smell of dust and old durasteel. You saw the man behind the balcony.

“I need a ship” you said straight forward. He looked at you and laughed.

“You have currency?” he replied with a sarcastic smile.

“How much?” and the answer that he gave you made you gasp. “That is an absurd amount of credits!” you protested, you didn’t have nearly enough credits for that.

“No money, no ship.”

“It must have another way to get it.”

“You are that girl, right? That lives in the ancient Temple?”

“You can say that.”

“Are you a Jedi? Hear they could do stuff.” he asked and you bulffed.

“Of course not.” you answered as it was an insult, mostly for him to believe you.

“You know how to fight?” he were asking with a lot of interest

“I do…” you suspicious answered. “Get to the point.”

“Get me this man, and the ship is yours.” He said showing you a hologram of a Dantari.

“What has he done?”

“He owes me credits. Bring him to me and you get a ship. His name is Barak Norurdi and he lives in the Taikana Hills. You have until tomorrow morning.”

“That is ridiculous”.

“Bring me Barak or no ship.”

You went out of that old place thinking about what you were going to do with your life. Going after a dantari? For what? Just for you to try to find Kylo Ren and kill him? Or at least help to destroy his Order? What were you thinking?

You had that feeling again. The Force wanting to talk to you somehow. You had shut yourself to the Force for so long and you couldn’t understand why now it was finding your way back to you. If only master Luke was still around…

You got in your way to the Taikana Hills, the sun was almost setting when you got there. You saw a little house, there was light on, you decided to go there, maybe they would know something about Barak.

You knocked on the door. No answer. You knocked again.  You heard someone speak in Dantarian. The door was open.

“Hi” you said with a simple smile, hoping that he would know your language.

“Hello” he answered in a thick accent, no smile.

“I am looking for Barak Norurdi, have you heard of him?” the man gave you a suspicious look.

“It is I, who asks?” that was incredibly easy, you could barely believe it.

“I came to collect your debt to Caran Spero.” You said more firmly than you felt.

“I owe no currency to Caran Spero. Caran Spero owes me. He stole from me.” He said getting angrier.

“Look, I am sorry, ok? But I am just following what was asked from me.”

“Stupid human.” And he closed the door.

“It’s going to be on the hard way then.” You told yourself. You kicked the door and it opened with a bang. The dantari man looked at you surprised. He came in your way with angriness. You had your staff with you, you wouldn’t use your saber anymore. You fought the dantari man, he was using his bare hands and you were skiving from his punches using your body and staff. Your staff went down to his legs making him fall behind, his head hitting the floor, he had a painful expression on.

“Look man, I’m sorry ok, but I gotta get out of this planet.” And you knocked him unconscious. You thought about how you could bring that heavy dantari back to Garang. You went out the wooden house and tried to find for some short of speeder. What were you expecting? Dantaris aren’t people who use tech… well, but this one apparently was. Maybe that was the reason why he was in debt with Spero.

You put the unconscious man, tied up, on the speeder and started to drive. You felt the wind in your face, it was night already and you had to smile, you haven’t felt that alive for so long, maybe what you were doing was right afterwards. It felt right.

You got to the store after a couple hours.

“Oh, the bounty hunter is back.” Spero said when he saw you entering his shop.

“I am not a bounty hunter” and you dropped Barak on the floor in front of him. He was up now, but all tied up, he couldn’t make a proper move.

“Oh, ho ho ho. It seems like a bounty hunter to me! Well done, well done!” He said, coming around the dantari laying on the floor.

“Can I get the ship now?”

“Sure thing, sure thing. Let me show you, it’s already outside in the back.” you followed him to the back and there was an old ship there.

“That is garbage!” you exclaimed, angry.

“Well, I didn’t say what kind of ship, right? That is what you got. You didn’t seem that had that much work to bring him back to me.”

“You are a worm!”

“Careful with your words, young lady. You know what? Now you got no ship, that’s it, that’s what you get for ingratitude.” In your fury you got your lightsaber from your belt, hidden behind your tunic and threatened him with the saber on his neck, the blue light lightening up both your faces.

“You said you were no Jedi” he roared.

“And I am not, the Jedi are dead. Now give me the ship. A good one.”

“Alright, alright, since you asked nicely” and he escorted you to the other hangar. “It’s a CT-21, good model, you can get to where ever you want fast.” You looked at him and then ran to the ship, getting in. You knew how to pilot from your padawan days.

You started to pilot the ship, and in no time you were leaving Dantooine, the place you thought you’d die in. Now you were heading to the unknown… or better saying, heading to Kylo Ren.

CHAPTER 2

[wherearemyglassesbro]

Why Francis is That Way: A series of headcanoned events that led to the ancient man we have now long post warning

Baby’s First Abandonment: When Fran was VERY little, physically 6 or so (idk 50 years old?? I don’t know nation ages) his mother Gual was his main caretaker. They lived in a small village with nomadic people by a river, very nice! Very aesthetic. Gual was close friends with many villagers so naturally Francis became close with them too, leading to them becoming his second family of sorts. One night Gual came back after bei Nd gone for a few days, Fran didn’t think much of it, and insisted he stay inside for the night with her. She made a special dinner and cuddled him all night and sang him to sleep and in the morning, she was gone. Francis, again, didn’t mind cause his mom left frequently for hunts so he went about his week. After a month he became worried and after six, he started flipping out. Tantrums and screaming and the villagers all had a felling his mom was dead so the woman with the most kids took him in. This was Francis’ first abandonment and this is what began his somewhat clingy nature. (He now knows that when his mother left, she went to fight Rome...and lost)

The First Heartbreak of Many: A long time later, I don’t know how many years, Francis met Arthur. Fran traveled with a new nomadic tribe now and went across the channel with them for the first time and found that lil stinker. Arthur and his brothers lived close to the water too so it was easy to find them! As years and years went on, Arthur and the other kirklands were Francis’s only friends! When the Auld Alliance was formed, he and Alastair were ‘married’ for awhile, which Francis very much enjoyed. He never had a lover before! He was still young for a nation, so was Ali so this was a first for them both. In his naivety, Fran believed that he and Ali would be together forever! But within a decade or so, Ali became more distant. Eventually he sat Francis down and told him “I love ya, I really do, but...Not as a wife. You’re a boy...And...I don’t like boys in a ‘wife’ way” of course Ali was very nice about it!! He was nothing but nice to Francis but that still broke his lil heart and the next day he insisted on going to live back home with his people to sulk. Sulk was probably the wrong word but what he did was lay in his hut for days on end, not leaving and crying a lot. He really thought he’d have someone to love forever and for the first time, he was broken up with

Too Young: As he grew up into a cocky teenager, he made many more nation friends. He called Antonio ‘cousin’ in an endearing way and spent a lot of time with him! He fought with Arthur a lot because now that little kid was growing physically too and they could fight their frustrations out like Real Men (they were not). By now, Francis had been with many women and a handful of men so he had Experience in relationships now. He’d talked to Antonio about a certain someone...Someone who...Has been trading around Italy...Sadik. It took awhile after first hearing about him to see him and oh lord, Francis fell for him on the spot! He was all he talked about with Toni and Artie for awhile!! His friends weren’t very supportive “Listen, idiot, he’s far older than you are it just wouldn’t work out!” “Franny, he’s so cruel, I’ve seen some of the things he’s done” but we know our boy is not one to listen to other. So of course, he perused Sadik and got exactly what he wanted. Both parties did, actually. Francis didn’t care about Sadik’s religion and Sadik felt the same way, they were attracted to eachother. Sadik liked Fran for his feminine features and his strength and Francis was extremely attracted to Sadik in almost all aspects of who he was. This ‘relationship’, if you could even call it that, was based on lust and not love so it didn’t last more than three years. It ended in an explosive fight with Francis saying Sadik was too self centered and Sadik calling him too young and stupid. Not exactly the way you should end a relationship. Both were upset at the split and went their separate ways. What did Francis learn from this experience? He learned not to rely on looks and that older men were a pain in the ass....But that didn’t stop him from persuing him again in the 1900s and I oop-

Humans Cant Provide What Nations Need: We all know the story of Joan of Arc so I won’t waste time describing that. Francis and Joan were close and Francis felt a very intense love for her. So intense that he longed for her when she was away and felt her pain himself when she was hurt. Was this a complication of being a nation? Possibly. But he thought it was his heart belonging to her. After centuries of living THIS girl was it! This was his soulmate! This had to be her, the woman he would love forever! And then the English came. When she died Francis felt dead on the inside and sank into a deep deeeeeep depression. Arthur later came to see him and told him a few things “Listen...It wasn’t personal. I didn’t want to hurt you, you were never the target. But you can’t depend on humans the way you depended on her...They dont last long...And they don’t come back...” Francis learned to be more closed off towards humans. Developing connections with them in this way wasn’t just unhealthy...It was stupid too

The Child: Skipping history again here! So Francis raised Matthew and Arthur raised Alfred for the most part UNTIL the English government decided they wanted Arthur to have custody over Matthew. After a lot of back and forth, the French agreed to give Matthew over without Francis’s consent. Naturally, Francis was DEVASTATED!!! He was such a good father. Every night he sang Matthew to sleep, he made him his favorite cookies, he let him pick out clothes, he cut his hair, he kissed his cheeks and hugged him and loved him so much! And now that horrid englishman was taking his son away! He blamed Arthur even though it wasn’t his decision. Francis chose to deliver Matthew himself so they could spend some time together. Francis dropped him off and practically dragged Arthur away from the house to yell at him without the kids heading. He yelled and punched him in the shoulder and yelled some more, let all of his hurt out. And when he was done having his adult tantrum he felt...worse. They went inside and spent time together as a family and later apologized to his dearest friend with a kiss on the cheek and breakfast in bed the next morning. He learned to be more mature and handle his feelings in another way than yelling and to be the adult his kids need

The Light Switch: Between the world wars, Fran and Artie finally got together. During the second ww, Fran was taken by the Germans and kept as a prisioner. When he was finally retrieved and brought home two years later he was a big ol mess. Arthur stayed with him at his house. The lights all needed to stay on, no loud noises, the doors were locked and checked over and over and over. Francis would insist he was fine until he was blue in the face but at the end of the day, he really needed Arthur and was so thankful for him being there. At this time he really needed someone there and Art had a lot of shared trauma so they got even closer through that. Fran didn’t learn much from this but what he did was become more open with his closest, dearest friend and become his lover. They became eachother’s support through this time and grew a lot from that together :) now the lights can be off and they can sleep soundly if a door went unlocked somewhere but they both can’t stand those thunderstorms that shake the house. Those kinds of storms bring back horrible memories for them and that’s an excuse to just hold eachother closer

Conclusion: Fran has issues with seperation and rejection cause of all of this and even though hes hella old he still is naive despite his smarts and even though he knows it’s bad, he listens to his heart more than his head

Thank you for reading this far!!!!!

[flyingkiki]

How long will you stay?

Ask and you shall receive! A lot of you seemed to like Stay. I received a request to do a follow up piece on that story. So here it is! :)

If you have not yet read Stay, you may want to read it. I created a series for these two stories - and I just may continue writing out other one-shots connected to this story arch. They're pretty fun to write out. :) 

~~~

NYU’s graduation ceremony was, for the lack of a better term, massive. The whole graduating class, their families and friends, the university’s faculty, and probably half of New York were all crammed into the Yankee Stadium. It was like New York – crowded, loud, and so extra.

The Yankee Stadium was filled with a massive sea of purple. Graduates dressed in their graduation gowns filled the bleachers, loudly cheering on classmates, faculty, and whoever really came up on stage. Everyone was armed with bells and whistles making the atmosphere way more festive than any traditional graduation ceremony.

It was exhilarating to say the least. And once everyone was told that they were official graduates and the whole Yankee Stadium erupted into loud cheers, chanting, and fireworks, Raven let out a long breath and laughed in relief. It was done – she had graduated.

Watching purple and white confetti float through the air, Raven felt a smile grow on her lips. Her purple hair tickled her chin and neck in the cool wind and her purple eyes greedily drank in the sight of celebrating graduates and faculty. An immense sense of pride and accomplishment filled her, realizing that she had finally completed her degrees and gained some level of a normal live outside of the Titans.

They could hear celebratory music as everyone piled out of the stadium to meet up with family and friends. Once Raven and some of her classmates stepped out they were greeted by a sea of people. Raven smiled softly at the celebratory atmosphere and allowed herself a moment to bask in the emotions of other people.

Spotting the parents of her friend Camille approach, Raven waved at the approaching couple. Giving Camille and her parents a moment, Raven stepped back and watched the middle aged couple shower their daughter with praises.

“Congratulations, Rachel,” Camille’s mother, Annie, offered Raven a brief hug. Her ash blonde hair ticked Raven’s nose. Pulling away, Annie squeezed Raven’s arms tenderly. “A double degree and top of your class, I am so impressed,”

Raven blushed at the attention. “Thank you,”

“Rachel was one of the most hardworking students in our class,” Camille paused and sent a teasing grin at Raven. “She barely even ate, slept, or went out on dates or parties,”

Camille’s father raised his eyebrow at his daughter. “Can’t say the same thing about you,”

“Hey!”

Ignoring squabble between father and daughter, Annie looked at Raven kindly. “What are your plans, dear?”

Raven’s fingers curled around her graduation cap and she hugged the cap to her chest. “I’ll be traveling a bit and then I’ll start on a research post at a University. There are some interesting studies happening on ancient languages,”

“That sounds nice dear,” the older woman blinked and Raven was absolutely sure that she was not interested in her ancient literature research job. “Do you know where you’re moving to?”

Raven’s lips curled slightly upward and she felt a soft flutter in the pit of her stomach at the thought. Tapping her graduation cap thoughtfully, she looked up at the elderly woman. “Gotham,”

“Mom, Raven and I are just going to take a quick photo with the rest of the history department,” Camille announced and pulled Raven away from the elderly couple. Tugging her towards the small group of history majors, Raven smiled softly at the group she had grown to call her friends.

The square outside of the stadium was still packed and noisy as Raven and her classmates posed for group photos. They talked about missing each other, personal plans, and made promises to stay in touch as much as possible. While Raven was not close to most of the group, she deeply appreciated everyone who was part of her journey through NYU. Eyeing the noisy group fondly, it still amazed her how normal it all seemed.

“I’m going to miss you,” Camille hugged Raven. Her aura reminded Raven a lot of Kori’s – warm, friendly, and full of life.

Raven hugged the curly haired brunette back. “I’ll miss you too, Camille.”

“I’ll miss your hangover remedies too, Rachel,” Camille grinned. “I never seem to get the recipe right,”

Raven rolled her eyes playfully. “Probably never.” Truth be told, the herbal tea with honey she gave Camille on occasion may just have held a bit of healing magic that helped her friend feel a little less nauseous after one sorority party too many.

Behind them they could hear their classmates make plans to meet up on the weekend for celebratory drinks. Everyone agreed on meeting at a bar downtown Friday night.

“Did you want to join my family for dinner?” Camille asked.

Raven contemplated the offer but decided against it. She’d rather spend a quiet evening at home and call Victor and Kori. Shaking her head, she gave her friend a soft smile. “You enjoy your night with your parents. They flew in for you. I’ll be alright,”

Camille gave her friend a worried look. “Yeah, but I –” Raven watched in confusion as Camille’s eyes widened at something behind Raven and she all but grabbed Raven’s forearm and squeezed. Her voice dropped down to a whisper and leaned into her. “Look!”

Raven blinked at her friend’s antics. Shaking off the vice-like grip around her arm, Raven adjusted her graduation gown as it had slipped down her shoulder before turning around to take a curious look at what caught her friend’s attention.

“Isn’t that –”

With his impeccable black Armani suit Tim Drake stood out like sore thumb in a sea of purple, sundresses, and spring clothing. Standing a few feet away from them, he stared at Raven with a bright smile and fingers curled around a small bouquet of calla lilies. He raised his hand in greeting and walked up to them.

Raven’s chest fluttered at the sight of him and how ridiculously handsome he looked suit. She felt her lips twitch and she fought of the urge to break into a smile. Tilting her head lightly, her eyes shone with a hint of amusement. Tim Drake was full of surprises. She raised her left hand and offered a small wave in return.

“You know Tim Drake?” She heard her friend whisper harshly into her ear.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, not breaking eye contact with an amused Tim. Absently mumbling that she’d be right back, Raven felt her stupid stomach flutter without permission. Fighting off a smile, she walked up to Tim.

They met halfway and Raven noticed a few nosy heads turning their way because why on earth would Tim Drake-Wayne be at a NYU graduation?

“Hi,”

Purple eyes were bright with emotions as she looked up into warm blue eyes. “Hi.” Tilting her head, her lips curled slightly. “Are those for me?” she asked, her gaze dropping briefly to his right hand.

“Yes,” Tim broke into a soft laugh and nodded. It had been a week since he last saw Raven and seeing her again, after their evening at the gala and everything that happened after, stirred a pleasant warmth in him. He offered her the small bouquet, calla lilies wrapped in a thin purple band. Their fingers brushed against each other and Tim realized how he missed her touch. Scratch that, he missed her. Raven was addicting.

“Thank you,” Raven smiled. She felt the familiar brush of his emotions against hers and she gently allowed them to settle around her. Tilting her head, she eyed him playfully. “You’re here.”

“And I feel very overdressed,” Tim laughed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He looked around briefly before turning his full attention back to Raven, offering her a gentle smile. “I thought I’d congratulate you personally. I know you don’t like surprises, but –” Tim sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.

Raven shrugged, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. “I don’t mind. It’s a pleasant surprise,”

Tim’s smile widened, looking pleased. “Good,” He blinked and shuffled a bit closer to her. “I wanted to see you again,”

“It’s nice to see you again too,” She released a soft breathy chuckle. Raven’s fingers absently stroked the smooth stalks of the calla lilies. They had been in touch since that absurdly sinful evening a week ago. Raven had barely made it to her flight back to New York. They had been talking about seeing each other again, but she honestly did not expect to see Tim again so soon.

“What are your plans tonight?” Tim asked her curiously, though he already knew that answer from when they Skyped a few days ago.

“Chinese Takeout and Netflix?”

“And chill?” Tim leaned in just a little bit into her space and offered that familiar teasing warmth from a week ago.

Raven laughed, the sound bright and soft. Tim silently vowed to make her laugh more. “Maybe,” she teased in return.

Tim chuckled and clicked his tongue. “Chinese takeout will not do. We need to celebrate,”

“We do?”

Tim hummed softly. “We do.” Stepping up next to her, he dropped an arm around her back and gently touched the small of her back. Looking down at her amused face, he grinned. “Shall we?”

“I’ll just say goodbye to my friend,” Raven quickly handed him her graduation cap and flowers and hurried back to Camille. Ignoring Camille’s stunned look (“Tim Drake?! Really? I thought you weren’t dating anybody!”), Raven hugged her friend and promised they’d meet up soon. After quickly saying goodbye to the rest of her classmates, she hurried back to Tim and took her graduation cap and flowers out his hands again.

“Ready?”

Raven nodded and they headed towards the parking lot where Tim parked his car. They walked in companionable silence, save for Raven’s light teasing when there was still no driver around (“How un-Wayne of you.”). Tim laughed while fishing out his car keys.

Unlocking the car doors, he watched as Raven pulled off her purple graduation gown, revealing a simple short spaghetti strap dress with a modest v-neckline. Opening the backdoor of his car, Raven folded her graduation gown and deposited everything in his backseat. After making sure the small bouquet of calla lilies was safe in the backseat, Raven straightened and closed the door. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up and caught Tim staring at her. “What?”

Leaning against his open door, Tim felt his stomach flutter as he watched Raven move around his car with such ease and familiarity. Drinking in the sight of Raven across of him, he watched as her hair framed her face and her purple eyes were bright as she looked back at him. She looked breathtaking. It amazed Tim how much he missed the sight of her. He offered her a gentle smile. “You’re beautiful,” he told her. He felt his emotions soar at her smile.

A soft blush painted her cheeks and Raven playfully rolled her eyes as she moved towards the front seat. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Tim Drake,” she said before opening the door and slipping in.

Tim laughed and slipped into the driver’s seat. His eyes danced in mirth and he leaned into her space just a tiny bit. “Not even to Netflix and chill?” he teased.

Raven busied herself with pulling her seatbelt around her. “Maybe,” she chuckled.

Tim grinned and watched as her lips curled upward. “Good,” he said. There was a pregnant pause as they stared at each other, finally in a more private setting away from the prying eyes of the public. Inhaling softly, Tim blinked and his gaze briefly dropped to her lips. “Raven?”

“Hmm?” The car doors automatically locked around them.

“May I kiss you?”

Tilting her head just a little bit, her purple hair tickled her jaw. Raven felt her own emotions slowly simmer under her skin in anticipation and a grin curled up her lips. “You don’t have to ask every time,”

With practiced ease, Tim’s hand slipped over her cheek and pressed his lips softly against hers. Pressing in more, and tilting her head just right, he felt her hum softly against his lips. His thumb swept gently over her cheek, before slipping behind her neck and drinking the sigh that slipped past her lips. Fingers curling around her neck and hair, Tim tried to steal more of her soft keens as her own fingers ran into his hair and pulled him closer. His tongue urgently swiped against hers, Tim drank her moan. In the haze of her kisses, Tim thought how sinfully addicting Raven truly was.

Raven sank into the heated kiss and ignored how her seatbelt cut into her shoulder. She inhaled the familiar scent of sandalwood and felt her body react instinctively to Tim’s warm emotions. She groaned softly at the familiar heady contact, taking her back to that night days ago and felt her want pool low in her stomach.

There was a loud bang outside their car as a group of graduates rushed past with a confetti canon. As the loud, muted chanting continued outside the car, Raven pulled back reluctantly. Her body was practically burning with heat and her emotions were purring, chasing after the innocent – yet heated – moment. Feeling both of Tim’s thumbs brush her cheeks as he cupped her face, Raven’s stomach fluttered. “Hi,” she whispered, a small smile forming on her lips. Her fingers danced around his neck.

Tim laughed softly and tipped forward just a little bit and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Happy Graduation,”

Raven stared into his blue eyes and silently marveled at how whatever was happening between her and Tim was unfolding. Feeling content and happy, she smiled. “Was that my graduation gift?” she teased.

Tim laughed and pulled away. Sending her a boyish grin as some of his hair fell into his eyes. “I hope you’re not complaining.”

Releasing a soft laugh and running a hand through her hair, Raven leaned back into her seat. Eyes dancing in amusement, she titled her head. “Wouldn’t dream of it,”

“Good,” Tim’s grin widened. Turning his attention back towards the front of the car and turning on the engine, he smiled. “Now how about some celebratory dinner?”

Feeling blissful and lighter than she did in years, Raven settled into her seat and watched Tim smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Do you have any preference?” Tim asked her curiously.

Raven shrugged and quirked her lips at him. “You seem full of surprises today. Surprise me, Tim Drake.”

Chuckling under his breath, Tim nodded and turned his attention to driving them out of the parking lot. “Okay, I can do that,”

~

Raven was pleasantly surprised as dinner was just as much as an art affair as it was dinner. They had dinner at one of the new restaurants in the city with its dark walls lined with modern paintings and sculptures tucked into key corners and archways. She was happy how Tim was familiar with some of the pieces and their artists. She thoroughly enjoyed both dinner and the company.

“Do you like New York?” Tim asked as they were driving to her apartment after dinner.

“More or less?” Raven shrugged and kept her eyes on the road in front of them. “It’s a really busy city with so many people. But it has a lot of interesting places to discover, so I guess that kind of balances it out,”

They stopped at the traffic light by the intersection and Tim sent her a crooked grin. “I usually come here a couple of times a year for work. Had I known you’re here, I would have asked you to give me a grand tour,”

Raven raised an eyebrow at him teasingly. “Just a tour?”

“Among other things,” Tim threw back at her with a quick grin that earned him a soft laugh.

They rounded the corner and approached a residential block. Stopping in front of an old brick building that was probably a warehouse back in the day, Tim parked his car along the curbside. Turning to Raven, he wondered how the night would end. “This is it?”

Briefly looking out the car window, Raven nodded. “Yeah. It’s a small loft. I got this when I first came to New York. Never moved.” She blinked and turned to him. There was a beat of silence and she felt her body react the gentle brush of emotions from Tim. “I don’t have a grand library like you have at Wayne Manor, but,” she tilted her head with a playful smile, purple eyes bright under the light of the lamppost. “Would you like to see my book collection?”

Trying to fight off a wide smile, Tim breathed in softly and smiled. “I’d love to.”

There was an air of anticipation that hung heavily over them as they stepped out of the car. Tim offered to carry her graduation things, plus the slice of cheesecake they got for takeout. He watched her throw a small smile over her shoulder as he stood next to her by her apartment’s front door and fumble with her house keys. As the light of the lamppost spilled over her pale shoulders, Tim felt himself enthralled by Raven.

“It’s a little bit messy since I already started packing things up,” said Raven while trying to ignore the soft press of Tim’s emotions. She chuckled when he teasingly replied, “How un-Raven of you.”

They climbed the old staircase and she sent him another amused smile. “But I guess the place should be okay for a guest from Wayne Manor,”

They made it to the third floor and he followed her down the hall. “Hey, I don’t live at the manor anymore so I am not a “Guest from Wayne Manor,” he chuckled and watched her open the door of her apartment.

Raven tutted as she opened her door. “Excuses, excuses,” she hummed and flicked on the light switch by the door. They both stepped into an open space loft. Stepping aside, she allowed Tim to enter and locked the door behind them.

“Make yourself at home,” Raven told him, slipping past him and briefly touching his elbow. She removed her heels by the doorway and padded towards the kitchen tucked in the corner of the loft. “Do you want something to drink?”

Tim watched Raven look so relaxed and at home and so normal in her apartment and it made him smile. It was hard to imagine such a small young woman could easily destroy an entire planet with a flick of her wrist. “Yeah, sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he said, before following into her apartment.

It was a moderately sized apartment with old brick walls and high ceilings. Dropping the cheesecake box and her things on the glass coffee table in the living room area, Tim removed his coat jacket and draped it over the plush grey sofa. His fingers absently ran over the fluffy throw blanket draped over one the couch’s arms.

Sparing a brief glance over his shoulder at Raven where she busied herself in the kitchen, Tim walked around the apartment intent to learn more about the purple haired woman that captivated. In one corner of the room he could see her bedroom hidden behind a curtain of dark drapes. He could see some books and trinkets strewn over shelves and cabinets. With the mountain of pillows and the plush bed, he could imagine Raven buried deep in the covers of her bed with a pile of books.

A few boxes were lined against the walls of her apartment, some already filled with books and other personal effects. But everything else in the apartment seemed to still be in the right place. Walking towards one of the walls, he curiously eyed some photos that lined the shelves. Photos of her and the old Titans team littered the shelves, as well as notebooks and collectibles from NYU. Fairy lights hung across over her TV and bundled around a potted plant that seemed to have seen better days. Tim’s lips quirked at the sight of the dying plant. Apparently she didn’t have a green thumb.

“It’s been on a steady decline towards death,” commented Raven, as she silently appeared next to him holding two stemless wine glasses filled with white wine. Handing him one, she eyed the rubber plant with disdain. “I placed a few lights around it just to make it look pretty,” she told him before moving forward and switching on the fairy lights.

The fairy lights strung across the walls came to life and cast a soft glow over them. Tim smiled at the sight of Raven bathed in the light and couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked. After taking a sip of his wine, he offered her a smile. “Well, it does look better with the lights,” he said.

Raven hummed in agreement. Turning around, she placed her wine glass on the table and took the box of cheesecake. “I’ll go get us some forks and a plate for this,” she said and left him by the glowing plant.

Walking towards the bay windows where her bookshelf was tucked into one corner of the room, Tim looked at the impressive display of books. He smiled at the sight of some familiar pieces and absently picked up a worn copy of the Little Prince that lay on top of some pillows in what he assumed to be her reading corner.

“Favorite book?” Tim asked curiously, looking over his shoulder as Raven placed the slice of cheesecake on the table and turned on her TV.

“Yeah,” she looked up from fumbling with her remote control. Dropping it on the couch, she joined Tim next to her old bookcase. Standing next to him by the window, she eyed the book fondly. “I forgot how many times I’ve read that book.”

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Tim read from the book. Looking down at Raven, he gave her a small smile. “The Little Prince sure knew his stuff,”

Raven laughed and plucked the book out of his hand. Dropping it back onto her reading chair, she looked at her bookshelf. “So what do you think?”

Tim tilted his head and inspected the shelf again. “It’s impressive, there are some pretty rare copies here. But I’m honestly not surprised of you hoarding so many books,”

Raven rolled her eyes. “It’s not hoarding, it’s collecting.”

Tim laughed and nudged her gently. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Rae.” Tilting his head towards the big industrial window, he looked out and stared at the small park that was visible from where they stood. With the park illuminated by the lampposts, they silently watched the leaves rustle in the muggy spring air. “This is a really nice view you got here,” he commented.

Raven stood next to him and absently played with her wine glass. It felt like they were back on the balcony at the Gotham City Gala, playfully tiptoeing around each other. Though this time there was no need to tiptoe. Raven smiled into her glass as she took a sip of her wine. “Yeah,” she said and eyed the maple tree as it swayed softly in the night. “It’s pretty. Especially in Autumn.”

Tim smiled softly and his attention shifted to her. “Yeah, it is.”

She felt her heart do a familiar leap in her chest as she caught him staring at her. “I like to sit here a lot and read,” she revealed. “And when I’m not reading, I like to watch people at the park or walk by. It’s nice to observe them from here,”

“And think of their lives?” asked Tim.

Raven’s fingers curled around her wine glass and her finger danced over the rim of the glass. “Yeah,” she breathed and watched some of the branches of the maple tree bend. “When I watch people pass by, it feels like I have a normal life because they have a normal life. I just sit here, eat breakfast, work on a book report, and watch people run down the street going to god knows where, doing god knows what. For a few moments, it would feel like I wasn’t some half-demon who runs around in spandex. It just feels normal because I’m part of their lives, being the nosy neighbor on the 3rd floor of an old warehouse finishing up her history thesis,” she looked up to him and tilted her head a little. “Does that make sense?”

Tim blinked and felt a bit breathless at the confession. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense.” He looked at her and watched as she smiled up at him. “Do you like having a sense of normal?”

Raven shrugged and turned back to the window. They watched a cat scurry down the street and disappear into the park. “I like it. When you live a good part of your life thinking you’re destined to destroy the world, you just kind of want to just have some sort of normal to human standards,”

Tim nodded and offered her an understanding smile. “But you help the Titans and the Justice League Dark once in a while?”

Raven nodded. “Yeah, if they really need me, I help out once in a while. Constantine can be such a pain in the ass if I don’t help out,” she rolled her eyes.

“Do you think you’d still just want a normal life now that you’re done with university?” Tim asked.

Raven shrugged and sent him a playful look. “Maybe. I’d imagine Gotham has a few apartments where I can people watch,”

He felt his pulse speed up and he inhaled softly. They had talked about this before, and he had enticed her so many times to come move to Gotham for work, and he already knew her answer. But wanted to hear her words again – to hear them from her straight from her mouth, not through the distance of their phones and spotty Skype calls.  It made everything seem more final – more real. “Oh, Gotham?” His lips quirked up and some of his hair fell into his blue eyes as he tilted his head towards her.

Raven tried to fight off the smile that grew on her lips. His warm emotions brushed against hers. “Gotham University is opening up new research project. They’re taking me into their ancient literature research project,” she said.

Tim smiled at the thought of Raven within short distance in the same city as he was in. The image of Raven curled up on his bay window at home in Gotham with books and papers strewn around her sent an exciting thrill down his spine. “That’s exciting,” he said stepping in closer into her space.

The corners of her eyes crinkled in the familiar amused and teasing way he had grown to love (love?) as she looked up at him. She bounced once on her bare feet and nodded. “It is, isn’t it?” she said. Leaning into him just a little bit, her shoulders brushed against his. “You better help me unpack all my books, Tim Drake,” she teased.

Tim released a soft laugh, emotions soaring. Impulsively brushing some of her purple hair behind her ear, he studied her pleased expression. Keeping his hand behind her neck, he pitched forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. Hearing her sharp intake of breath, he pulled back and smiled. “I’ll do you even better and put all your books into the moving truck myself,” he said.

Raven felt her emotions excitedly flutter at his warm presence. Her left hand reached up and her fingers curled around his forearm, pushing him gently away. Her purple eyes stared into his shining blue eyes, and she slipped out of his reach. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said with a lilt in her voice.

“I promise!”

She chuckled and turned on her heels, walking back to the living room and dropping into her couch. She watched as Tim moved to join her on the couch. A silent thrill went down her spine as she watched Tim move around her apartment with such ease. It was such a pleasant sight.

Tim chuckled softly as he sat down next to her and stared at her TV. “So, Netflix?” his blue eyes were dancing in amusement as he looked between the Netflix selection and Raven. The thought of them doing exactly this, watching crappy Netflix series together in his apartment, made his heart skip a beat. There was an excited, happy thrum in his emotions.

Raven curled her feet under her and settled back comfortably on the couch. Cradling her wine glass in her lap, she grabbed the remote and began scrolling through movie options. “Well, that was the original plan.”

Tim placed his half empty wine glass on the table. Leaning back on the couch, he chuckled softly and began to unbutton the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them up to his elbow. Absently watching Raven scroll through the selections, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. “Your apartment is really nice,” said Tim as Raven continued to go through the selections.

Raven paused her search on Netflix, stopping at the Tiger King, and turned her attention back to Tim. Her heart fluttered at the sight of his loose tie and rolled up sleeves. It was sinful how he looked like a GQ model, really. “Comfortable?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. Tim just shrugged in reply. “Thanks. I like this apartment. I’m going to miss living here,” she smiled fondly and looked around briefly. “It’s been difficult to pack everything up though,”

Tim eyed the boxes in the corner and turned to looked at her. “I could help you pack some stuff up if you want some help,” he offered, shifting in his seat and moving closer to her.

“Oh?” Raven tilted her head and eyed him curiously. “And Batman will not mind?”

Tim watched her place her wine glass on the table and curl back into the couch, shifting to her side to look up at him. “Well, after leaving me at the Gala for Paris, Batman can suck it,” he said, shrugging simply.

Raven tutted playfully. “How un-Wayne of you,” she teased and draped her right arm comfortably over the back of the couch as she looked at an amused Tim.

Turning to her fully, Tim leaned against the back of the couch and casually reached out his hand to gently touch her forearm draped over the couch. His touch was familiar and warm against her cool skin. His fingers curled around her forearm and squeezed gently. “Well, my offer stands,” he said softly, his gaze switching from the arm he held to her face. “And I’ll be honest and say I’d like to spend more time with you,” He shrugged with a playful grin. “And Bruce can suck it,”

Raven felt her skin burst into hot flames at the warm press of his hand against her skin. His emotions made her body hum and she unconsciously tipped forward into his space, seeking his warm presence. Whatever they were tumbling into, this pleasant feeling, Raven welcomed. She wanted more. “Stay. I’d like that,” she said, much to her embarrassment a little breathlessly.

Not bothering to ask her this time, Tim leaned into her space and caught her lips in soft, meaningful kiss. Sighing against the press of her lips, he pulled back and beamed at her flushed face. “I’d like that too,” he whispered against her lips.

She knew was in deep as her emotions pleasantly purred. Raven hummed and pitched forward, kissing him briefly in return. Chasing after his warmth, she scooted closer towards him and her knees pressed into his thigh. She smiled against his lips as his right hand dropped to her thigh and fingers danced over the exposed flesh. Sighing softly at the pleasant press his lips against hers, her hands slid over his arms and curled around his neck, drawing him closer for a hungry kiss.

“For how long will you stay,” she whispered against his lips before tipping her body forward as his other hand possessively curled around the nape of her neck and she groaned softly as fingers curled into her hair. “To help me pack?”

Tim all but drank the groan that slipped past her lips and angled her head just the right way he knew she liked. She tasted of cheesecake and wine, Tim groaned softly as his tongue slipped against her own. Kissing her lips hungrily and feeling desire pool low in his stomach, Tim’s hand slid up her thigh and played with the hem of her dress that pooled just around the swell of hips. Nipping her bottom lip, he smirked at the soft sight and kissed her chastely. “As long as it takes,” he mumbled and pressed forward for another kiss. He pulled away and breathed in deeply, relishing how her breath fanned over his lips and his heart raced wildly against his chest. “To get every book into a box,”

“Hmm,” Raven made a sound of approval in the back of her throat as his fingers trailed underneath her dress and danced around the swell of her hips. She cupped Tim’s face with both of her hands and pressed a long, heady kiss against his lips. She surged forward and hummed as his hand slid from the back of her neck down to the small of her back, leaving a hot train of want. “Do you have extra clothes?” she whispered as they pulled away briefly to breathe before diving in for another greedy kiss. His long hair tickled her forehead and she pressed a long kiss against his lips, groaning softly as his tongue slipped into her mouth. “It might take a few days,” she whispered against the corner of his mouth.  

Tim ran his fingers up her back again and teasingly stroked her exposed neck and drank her sigh with another long kiss. Heat pooled low in his stomach and he honestly wanted nothing more than to press her into her couch and devour her. “I can buy some clothes tomorrow,” he mumbled against her lips.

He heard her hum thoughtfully and pull away just a little, her lips pressing teasingly against the corner of his mouth. He felt her shift against him and press her body into his and he instinctively allowed his hand to slip completely under her dress completely and tease the lace underwear around the swell of her hips. Her nimble hands dropped to his chest and Tim groaned as her lips fell to his neck and she placed a hot kiss against his pulse point. Teeth slipped over his neck and Tim twitched under her.

“I don’t think you need clothes,” Raven whispered hotly against his neck and one innocent finger slipped into the knot of his tie. she tugged it teasingly.

“Raven,” Tim groaned loudly and tipped his head over the back of the couch in ecstasy as Raven pressed her body fully into his and all but consumed his neck. His hand instinctively slipped over her lace panties and cupped her ass, possessively pulling her into his lap. His mind slipped into a haze of want and desire.

“Yes,” she breathily whispered and pressed a kiss against the underside of Tim’s chin. She moved into his lap, hips beginning a torturous slow rhythm that sought release against the telltale hard press of his own hips. His emotions burned her skin and as her fingers sought the skin of his neck, Raven was sure she wanted nothing more than to be consumed by Tim’s emotions for a long while.

Capturing Raven in a deep kiss, both of Tim’s hands slipped under her dress. He groaned into her lips as she rocked against him and his fingers brushed past her lacy underwear and up her sides. His hands stopped at her ribcage, her dress now pooled around his hands. Releasing her lips, he dipped down and kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder. Listening to her soft keen as his teeth grazed her heated flesh, Tim vowed to dedicate his life to elicit more of those addicting gasps she made. She deserved nothing more than to be pleased into oblivion.

“I think,” Raven heard Tim whisper against her neck and she tipped her head back with a gasp as he breath fanned across the heated skin. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, seeking some sort anchor as she felt herself drowning in their emotions. She rocked her lips into lap, feeling the hard press of his on desires against her. Raven whimpered. His fingers slipped higher, drawing her dress with them, and exposing herself more to him. Fingers slipped under her lacy bra and her emotions roared.

“I don’t think you need clothes either,”

[disbander-of-armies]

What my tumblr means

I was tagged by my wonderful friend @hiddenlookingglass! I’ve just done one of these and usually I try to space these out but this gives me the opportunity to address some things that I’ve been wanting to talk about for a while so here we go.

Header image: It’s a photo I took two years ago at a small beach in Sicily. I chose it because I think it looks really nice and it fits with my blog title (”thalatta” means “sea” in ancient Greek). Also, it sometimes looks distorted on my tumblr app, I don’t know why, it’s just tumblr being weird I guess.

Icon: A photo of me blowing bubbles. I wanted my icon to be a photo of me because this blog is very personal to me but at the same time I didn’t want to do a face reveal so that’s why I chose this one.

My content: Well, mostly anything Classics/ancient history. I sometimes share unrelated posts that I tag as “self care” because I also want to spread positivity on my blog. I usually try to stay out of politics (I want all sexualities, genders and religions to feel welcome on my blog so you can draw your conclusions where I stand politically). Lately I’ve been struggling a bit because I don’t know what to post. When I started my blog I wasn’t an ancient history student yet and I just used it as a place where I could dump all my thoughts on ancient Greece and my God, it shows! Since I’ve started studying ancient history and have gained a lot more followers I’ve become a lot more careful because I don’t want to spread any misinformation. I also feel that right now I’m in a weird “intermediate” position. I know a lot more about ancient history than I did when I started this blog but I’m by no means an expert in anything yet. There are a lot of things that I would love to write about (like, making ancient Greek more accessible) but I just don’t have the knowledge yet and/or the time to do proper research. And the things I do know feel kind of, I don’t know, generic? Like I assume everybody already knows that (or maybe that’s just what it seems to me because I’m living in the Classics bubble).

Background color: I just chose a color that I thought fitted in with my images, there is no deeper meaning to it.

URL: “disbander of armies” is the translation of the ancient Greek name “Lysistrata”. Lysistrata is one of the comedic plays by Aristophanes. It’s set during the Peloponnesian war and it’s about a group of women (lead by Lysistrata) who organize a sex strike to force the Athenians and Spartans to make peace (which the also accomplish by the end of the play). I love the play because a) it’s hilarious and b) it often gives an insight into the lives of those people who weren’t that well off and whose lives are often overlooked. And that’s one of the things I love most about ancient history, learning about the ordinary people.

Also, I just really love the name, it’s really powerful and yet peaceful. Obviously Aristophanes chose the name because of the content of the play but (and this is just a theory but I would love it to be true) he might also have chosen it because of the priestess of Athena Polias (who was probably the most powerful woman in all of Athens) whose name was Lysimache, which means “disbander of battles”. Joan Breton Connelly writes in her book Portrait of a Priestess:

“If it can be shown that the Lysistrata similarly draws upon the lives of historical Athenians, in this case priestesses, our view of the public role of women and their name recognition within the polis can be greatly enriched. Indeed, we might even understand these women to be insiders, part of the “men’s club”, so to speak, and thus fair game for public comedy.” (Connelly 2010: 63)

Blog title: “Thalatta! Thalatta!”. It’s a famous quote from Xenophon’s Anabasis and it’s very personal to me. The Anabasis is a work by the Athenian historian Xenophon who lived during the 5th/4th century BCE. When he was around 30 years old, he took part in an expedition in Asia Minor by the Persian prince Cyrus. It turned out that this “expedition” was actually just a ruse for Cyrus to gather mercenaries in order to overthrow his brother, the Persian king Artaxerxes II. They fought a battle at Cunaxa (in modern Iraq) in 401 BCE which was won by Cyrus but since he himself was killed, the victory was pointless. Now thousands of Greek mercenaries, including Xenophon, were trapped in a foreign country. A large part of the Anabasis is the story of how they fought their way back to Greece.

The “Thalatta! Thalatta!” (which means “The sea! The sea!”) quote appears when the Greeks, after months of fighting off enemies and trying to find their way back, see the sea for the first time (in this case it’s the Black sea). This was a huge milestone for them because it meant that Greek colonies were near.

Xenophon vividly describes how, since he was travelling further back, he first heard a commotion and it was thought that they were being attacked but when they heard that the others were actually shouting “thalatta!”, everybody just broke down in tears because they were so happy.

The Anabasis is my favorite book of all time (I actually got super emotional again just writing about this scene!). I love it because you learn so much about how the ancient Greeks saw their world and especially, how Xenophon saw the Gods guiding him (before he went on the expedition he had asked the oracle of Delphi to which Gods he should pray to to successfully complete his journey and the oracle replied that he should pray to Zeus Basileos (Zeus the King) (Xen. an. VI, 1, 22). To quote from the article One Man’s Piety by Robert Parker:

“Xenophon, then, was very close to Zeus Basileus. And the god did not let him down. (...). There is self-glorification and self-congratulation in all this, no doubt; but also a picture of one sense in which a Greek could feel himself especially close to a particular god.” (Parker 2004: 151)

It also had a huge impact on myself and the things I struggle with. Like a lot of other people, I struggle with mental health and there were times when I’ve been in a very dark place and thought that I would never get better. Xenophon and those soldiers must have felt like that too sometimes (though I by no means want to compare my experiences to those of the ancient Greeks!). It shows me that people can go through incredible hardships and still come out victorious. This doesn’t mean that you will never have to face difficult times again. The “Thalatta” scene is by no means the end of their journey and they had to face many more obstacles after that. But in the end, there was a happy end (of sorts) for Xenophon. After living many years as a soldier, he settled down, had a family and died at the age of around 75. Here is another favorite quote of mine of him describing his home (he speaks of himself in the third person):

“Here Xenophon built an altar and a temple [for Artemis] with the sacred money, and from that time forth he would every year take the tithe and of the products of the land in their season and offer sacrifice to the goddess, all the citizens and the men and women of the neighborhood taking part in the festival. And the goddess would provide for the banqueters barley meal and loaves of bread, wine, and sweetmeats. (...). The temple itself is like the one at Ephesus, although small as compared with great, and the image of the goddess, although cypress wood as compared with gold, is like the Ephesian image. Beside the temple stands a tablet with this inscription:

“The place is sacred to Artemis. He who holds it and enjoys its fruit must offer the tithe every year in sacrifice, and from the remainder must keep the temple in repair. If anyone leave these things undone, the goddess will look to it.” (Xen. an. V, 3, 9-12, transl. by Carleton L. Brownson)

Sources:

Joan Breton Connelly, Portrait of a Priestess. Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece. Princeton University Press 2010.

Robert Parker, One Man’s Piety. The Religious Dimension of the Anabasis, in: The Long March. Xenophon and the Ten Thousand, edited by Robin Lane Fox. Yale University Press 2004, 131-153.

[koyacyi-vode]

26 Rex and Padme? #uncommon ship. Lol

Sorry this is so late! || Prompt from this post

Prompt 26 - “I didn’t intend to kiss you.”

Characters: Rex and Padmé

The rest under a readmore!

---

Padmé held herself with such grace it was almost terrifying. Even through the last few years of running and hiding, Rex still saw the refined and practiced motions that she'd always moved with when she was a senator.

When he'd first met her, he'd seen what kind of fighter she was. He didn't have to know the harrowing tales of the Invasion of Naboo when she had been Queen and still just a child, or how she had fought alongside Jedi and clone alike on Geonosis. He'd seen it in her eyes the first time they met. The quiet but fiery determination that fueled her actions. That fire had turned into an inferno when the war had ended. Rex had always admired her for her tenacity. He'd never realized just how much of it she actually had. 

She was pacing at the moment. They were waiting on word from Ahsoka, but it was taking longer than either of them would have liked. They'd only just arrived at their current safehouse, and tensions were high until they felt safe in their current location.

Rex was positioned in the window, looking down the scope of an ancient but solid sniper rifle, searching for movement in the growing darkness outside.

"Ma'am," Rex said, keeping his attention through his scope. "You should really sit down. You'll just wear yourself out," he suggested. He heard Padmé stop her pacing abruptly. She sighed.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Padmé?" she asked, a soft resignation in her tone. 

"At least once more, ma'am," he said, and he grinned at the annoyed sound she made. Rex's comm crackled and then Ahsoka's voice drifted through, calm and focused. 

"We're clear. But I'm going to extend my radius a bit more just in case. Area is deserted, and we weren't spotted, so we will be safe here for a few nights," she relayed. The tension seeped from Rex's shoulders immediately and he sighed, lowering his rifle. He picked up his comm.

"Copy that Fulcrum, let us know when you're on your way back," he said, and she confirmed with a rather cheeky 'roger roger' before signing off. Rex put his comm in his pocket and stood up, joints popping from being in one position for too long. 

"We'll be safe for the night," he told Padmé. She visibly relaxed and nodded, the tense angles of her shoulders softening incrementally. She looked different now, and it wasn't just the lack of ostentatious senate attire. The end of the war had hardened her more than the rest of them.

"I'm going to check on them, they've been locked in the back room for a while," she murmured, and walked towards the end of the hall where they had put Luke and Leia while securing the perimeter.

When the Republic fell, he didn't think he would ever see Padmé again. But she had found them. Rex had no idea how she had managed it, but only a few weeks after everything had come to a catastrophic end she appeared with one newborn strapped to her back and one to her front. And Rex knew from that moment on he would do everything in his power to keep her and her children safe.

The twins hadn't been a surprise. He'd been well aware of Padmé's pregnancy before the end of the war. They were about four years old now. It had taken a while for Rex to get used to being around such young children. But he loved them with all of his heart, even if sometimes just the sight of them would make him ache. The familiarity of their mannerisms and faces were agonizingly similar to their father. He saw the same pain in Padmé's face every now and then when she looked at them.

They didn't talk about him much, the General. Ahsoka never spoke about him and Rex was smart enough not to even think about him with her around. It hadn't been a pleasant first conversation. Padmé had recounted her discovery of Anakin's betrayal with subdued, detached seriousness. Whether she had come to terms with it for the sake of her own sanity, or for her children, Rex would never know. Ahsoka had been distraught, and disappeared for several weeks, before returning in grim despair. From then on it had been the five of them and the ghost of the man who had once tied them all together.

Years later, it still felt like a fresh wound, seeping and septic. 

Padmé returned alone, and Rex tore himself from his memories. She gave him a small smile and sat down on the dusty couch near him. 

"They fell asleep," she said, answering his unasked question. "Curled next to each other right where we left them," she leaned back, sagging a bit. She was tired. They all were. Rex swallowed and walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You should rest too, ma'am," he suggested quietly. Padmé hummed and gave him a tiny, tired smile, placing her hand on top of his. Rex had to fight to keep his face neutral, since the touch alone almost made him jump out of his skin. 

"You're a kind man, Rex," she said softly. "You've done so much for me and the children. We wouldn't have made it this far without you and Ahsoka," she admitted. Rex's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, ma'am," he countered. Because it was true. He believed wholeheartedly that she could hold her own. She wouldn't have to though, and he would fight to his dying breath so she wouldn't have to. But she could. Padmé snorted a laugh and the bright sound made Rex's face inexplicably heat up. She stood up and smiled at him fully, and it was rare to see her smile like that. Rex treasured every one of them. 

"Your confidence in me is flattering, but I do feel much safer with you around," she said warmly, grasping both of his hands lightly between her own. Rex was momentarily transfixed with how small her hands were, slim and elegant, but not without the blemishes and calluses that told of their years of running and fighting. "Really, thank you," and she pulled him into an embrace that almost made him stumble in shock. It took him several seconds to respond and then he returned the gesture, if a bit awkwardly since she was significantly shorter and slighter than him. 

It had been quite a while since anyone had hugged him, apart from the kids. Rex hadn't realized how much he had missed the physical warmth and touch of another person and he found himself melting into her arms and tightening his own around her. Padmé breathed a heavy sigh into his chest. Rex wondered if maybe she was feeling the same thing. They stayed still and quiet, just holding each other for several seconds before he spoke.

"I'm glad I can help you in any way, ma'am," he murmured, slightly mortified with how hoarse his voice was. Padme's shoulders shook with a small laugh. 

"Padmé," she insisted. 

"Sorry," he whispered, even though he wasn't really that sorry. Padmé's arms lowered slowly, her hands drifting across the back of Rex's shirt in a way that  sent a tiny shiver down his spine, and she pulled a little further back. 

This, Rex realized suddenly, was dangerous territory. Because she was definitely too close, and he didn't want to pull away. And he should pull away. But he didn't and there was a half a moment's breath between her hand sliding against the back of his neck and tilting her head and then all thoughts of retreat were blown away as she kissed him. 

It was soft and hesitant, her other hand pressed up feather-light against his chest. And before Rex could get his brain to think he kissed her back. He brought one hand up to cup her cheek and the other braced on the small of her back as their lips slid together a bit firmer, a bit more insistent. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about this. Over the past few years he'd come to admire her in more than just a professional respect. Ahsoka had found out several months ago and had teased him about it, but she had the tact not to say anything or goad him on about it. Because, well... Remembering the why made Rex's brain come to a stumbling halt.

He pulled back, not sharply, but with enough purpose that Padmé retreated. He couldn't look at her, his mind swimming in guilt. He felt almost wounded, which was a ridiculous feeling to have over this kind of thing. But the tightness in his chest was as tangible as any physical injury. He exhaled heavily through his nose, controlling his breathing the best he could. She was quiet for a few moments, most likely a bit shocked herself. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't intend to kiss you." Rex risked a glance at her. Her brow was furrowed in a complicated emotion with one of her hands pressed against her mouth. Rex had a feeling he understood a bit of what was bothering her. They were connected to the same source of pain and guilt after all.

"I know," he rasped. She turned back to him and her eyes held a deep sorrow that he wished he didn't have to see. Rex sighed and closed his eyes, trying to relax the rigid posture he had accidentally locked himself into. "I think…" he searched for the right words, painfully aware of her expectant gaze on him. "I think that it's… too soon... for this," he clarified, hoping to Force that she would understand what he meant, since there was no way he could explain it any better. Padmé smiled sadly and he saw the recognition in her face, the understanding. It didn't make him as relieved as he would have liked. 

"I agree," she said, and Rex's heart clenched painfully. She traced her fingertips over his cheek before she withdrew completely and Rex shuddered. He wasn't sure how they would proceed, now that this was out in the open. It was one thing to want someone. But it was another thing entirely for that desire to be requited. But they had wounds still too fresh to heal. And they both knew better than to pick at scabs. 

Maybe one day, when their wounds have healed more and death wasn't trailing their every move, they could be something different together. But for now, it was safer for them to maintain their imagined distance. 

"You should get some rest, ma'am," he repeated, their earlier conversation feeling like it had taken place years ago. Padmé nodded, her expression distant and melancholy. She stepped back from him, giving him some space as she walked back towards the room with the twins. When she reached the door she turned back towards him, her hand against the doorframe.

"Good night, Rex," she said softly. He nodded at her, tight and tense. 

"Good night, Padmé."

[amandajoyce118]

Friday Five: Women In History

Think of this Friday Five as a list of five women I wish Timeless had the chance to do episodes about. Why? Because it’s the last Friday of Women’s History Month. In honor of all the women who made history, I’m spotlighting five who often get overlooked this week. These are women who don’t get taught about in schools because, instead, we learn about their male counterparts. Or, these are women who had a big influence on a particular market, but few people know their story.

Five: Zelda Fitzgerald

I thought I’d start off with a woman that people are probably slightly familiar with, but maybe don’t know her full story. If her name sounds familiar, but you can’t place where you know her, that’s because she’s the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald. If you went to high school in the U.S., or studied American Lit at all, you probably read at least one of his books, like The Great Gatsby. What you might not know is that Zelda was as good as, if not a better writer than, her husband.

Her husband regularly wrote down things she said when recounting stories to friends, stole her journal, and all around copied her work. She “inspired” all of his heroines. So, if you actually like his writing, chances are, you really like Zelda’s. She was trapped in a loveless marriage. He cheated on her, but wouldn’t allow her to have relationships with other men. He also attempted to drive her to a nervous breakdown so he could have her institutionalized. All around, not a great guy there.

Zelda actually got an offer to have her journals published at one point, but because of her husband, she couldn’t. She retaliated by publicly reviewing his writing, penning, “plagiarism begins at home.”

Four: Andree Borrel

A lot of posts have gone around tumblr about the women who acted as spies and assassins during World War II lately. Andree Borrel didn’t go that route, but in her twenties, she was recruited to train members of the French resistance.

She actually started off trying to help in the war efforts on her own. She traveled from France to Spain to fight against Nazi work, but thought her efforts were meaningless, and made her way back to France. There, she took a nursing course offered by the Red Cross and became field certified to help in the hospitals. Since she was under 21 when she did it, the hospitals wouldn’t allow her to stay and volunteer. That is when she started working for the underground.

She started safehouses that helped British soldiers who were shot down, escaping Jews, and spies. Eventually, she and her friends had to leave France when their safehouses were compromised. They made their way to England where they gave full reports to MI5 and began working for the Special Operations Executive to help the French resistance.

Not only was she recruited for the French resistance, but when they sent her back to France to start her work, she was parachuted into the area. She (and her partner for the mission, of course) was the world’s first female paratrooper. She was excellent at her job, but she was eventually captured. Andree was executed in a French concentration camp in 1944.

Three: Willie Mae Thornton

Everybody remembers the names of the singers. The songwriters don’t get as much credit. Today, they get a little more because so many singers like to write (or assist in writing) their own music. In the day of Willie Mae Thornton though, she was the Big Mama (yes, that was her actual nickname) behind the curtain.

She first started singing in church, like so many people from the south. When her mom died, she had to drop out of school and get a job to help support her five siblings. Eventually, she left home to pursue a career in music. While she could supposedly “sing pretty,” if she wanted to, she preferred to make her voice “big” instead. In other words, she didn’t conform to what men in the music industry thought of as a feminine sound. She belted.

Willie Mae wrote and recorded music that other people made into hits. “Hound Dog,” made famous by Elvis Presley? She sang it first and it spent a few weeks at the top of the charts, but she didn’t see any real profit from it. Her record sold about 500,000 copies, which was big for its time. Elvis’ version became the hit, selling 10 million copies just a few years later. Likewise, she wrote “Ball n Chain,” which Janis Joplin made famous. She also didn’t get the profits from that because the record company owned the song, not her. Joplin, however, hired her to open for her as a way to give back what the record company took from her. (I feel like she should have split profits with her, but that’s just me.)

(Side note: I almost wrote about Rose Marie McCoy here instead. Like Willie Mae, she was a black woman who wrote hits for other artists. She also wrote songs for Elvis. By the end of her songwriting career, she wrote more than 800 songs, including commercial jingles. I think she’s a little bit more well known since NPR has featured specials on her in the past, but probably not by much.)

Two: Hypatia

Since the other three lived and worked in relatively recent history, it seems prudent to go back a little farther - like way back. I’m talking fourth century. Hypatia was from Alexandria, you know, where the ancient library was that we all wish had survived disaster?

Hypatia was a scholar in the time that women weren’t really allowed to be scholars. All of the stories and historical accounts of the era paint men as the heroes in Greece and Rome, with women as the people on the sidelines being fought over or worshiping deities in temples. Hypatia’s father, Theon (not a Greyjoy, Game of Thrones fans) wanted her to have the same opportunities as men in their community, so he made sure she was educated in science, math, and astronomy. Eventually, Hypatia became a teacher.

Unfortunately for her, Hypatia lived at a time when Christianity was spreading throughout the ancient empires. Though she didn’t seem to subscribe to one religion over another, historians seem to consider her a pagan. She was tolerant of other religions, and was one of the people outraged when Jewish residents were ousted from Alexandria and Christians began targeting pagans. She was murdered by a group of angry Christians during Lent. She wasn’t just murdered either. She was stripped, had her eyes removed, and then pieces of her body were taken throughout the town and burned. For no reason other than she was seen as an enemy of the political leaders at the time.

I’ll admit that the first time I ever learned about her was a result of doing my own research after “Hypatia’s chariot” was an artifact in Warehouse 13. Despite the few things I’ve read recently calling her a famous ancient scholar, or a feminist icon, I doubt most people know her name.

One: Sayyida al-Hurra

For a time when I was a teenager, I was fascinated by the life of pirates. Not in the romance novel way, but more in the what-drove-a-person-to-piracy kind of way. I think most people, primarily as a result of Hollywood, become passingly familiar with pirates like Blackbeard and Anne Bonny. Glossed over is the Pirate Queen Sayyida al-Hurra, who actually held a long standing alliance with Blackbeard.

She was actually born into a wealthy Moroccan family and married a much older business man. She continued to run his business after his death. Her family, however, was forced to flee from Morocco when the Spanish declared themselves rules and Christianity started spreading through the region. (She was Muslim.) Eventually, she became the political leader of Tetouan and married a king. She didn’t even travel to marry, but instead, made him come to her, which was unheard of.

Holding onto her grudge against the Spanish empire for what they did to her people, she used her political standing to slowly build her pirate army and take on their ships. She made her little country rich with stolen merchandise and selling the Christians she captured into slavery in place of her people. She was also the foremost negotiator when it came to releasing Christian captives. She was the person European nations contacted to offer up ransoms, so she only sold people into slavery if the European nobles weren’t willing to pay. Sayyida ruled the western Mediterranean while Blackbeard ruled the east.

Sadly, history doesn’t know what happened to her. Though she remained queen after the death of her husband, her son in law overthrew her, and then… nothing. I’d love to see a movie speculating about her fate.

Obviously, there are thousands of women who were important to history. I picked five that I have found interesting, and ones who aren’t usually present in more mainstream pop culture (like the ladies of Hidden Figures, for example) for this list.

That’s it for this week! Tell me about a woman in history you think everyone should know about!

[lady-charinette]

In a Cage Part 2 - Marichat

In a Cage Part 2

 It was late afternoon by the time Marinette stood on her balcony, small cookie box in hand, “Have some on your way kitty.”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his neck, accepting the sweet gift, “Thank you Marinette!” there was a moment where he just looked at her, with soft green eyes and a warm smile, it almost reminded her that one time when Adrien- 

“R-right! Uh, have a safe trip to uh- home! I guess we…we’ll see each-other sometime!” Marinette grinned widely, inwardly panicking at her almost comparison between her crush and her good partner – crime fighting partner.

Chat Noir either didn’t notice her internal dilemma or was too focused looking at her, either way he chuckled and bowed like he usually did, “Thank you again for today, Marinette. I hope our paths will croissant again.” He winked and grinned boyishly, taking his baton out and waving at her with the hand holding the small but nicely wrapped cookie box.

A small smile came unbiddenly upon Marinette’s lips and she waved back, watching his form become smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Looks like Chat Noir really loved-“ 

Marinette jumped, surprised to hear her kwami’s voice suddenly, “W-who?!” she shrunk in on herself, like a cornered animal with wide panicked eyes. 

Tikki blinked down at her, a small knowing smile on her lips, “I was talking about the cookies.” The ancient goddess couldn’t help but giggle at the girl’s impulsiveness, outright laughing when Marinette’s ears and cheeks turned pinkish.

“T-Tikki!” 

After the kwami had her laugh, Marinette sighed, “A-anyway, let’s get back inside, because of Chat Noir I wasn’t able to finish homework.” Tikki’s back was turned to her charge, so Marinette couldn’t see the sly smirk on the kwami’s face. 

Or the quiet words whispered under her breath, “Since he was such a distraction…”  

“Tikki, did you say something?” Tikki was already inside while Marinette opened the hatch again.

“Nu-uh!” came the goddess’ cheeky reply.  

Marinette rose an eyebrow, certain she heard something from her kwami’s mouth, until she suddenly tripped on something invisible on the ground. Tikki, having heard her yelp, thought it was just Marinette’s clumsiness, she continued munching on the leftover cookies on the platter. 

Marinette’s eyes shot wide open, something scaly wrapping around her legs, something small was flickering by her feet but she couldn’t see what it was and then, an akuma stood before her. 

It was Kaleido. 

“Ti-!“ Marinette’s cry was abruptly cut off as the girl vanished in a flash of light and a small hand mirror dropped into Kaleido’s hand. 

She giggled, opening the small hand mirror and spotting the girl’s panicked face, fists hitting invisible walls within the mirror, “You naïve little girl, this is what you get for involving yourself with a superhero.” She frowned at Marinette’s angered expression and closed the mirror shut, “So unsightly, not pretty at all.” With that, she pocketed the item, grabbing her chameleon and jumping off the balcony. 

“Marinette?” Tikki dropped the half-eaten cookie back on the platter, no longer seeing Marinette’s form from her viewpoint in the window, “Marinette, are you alright?” Tikki worriedly flew back up the stairs and out into the balcony, her eyes flying wide open, “Marinette!” 

She looked left and right and flew quickly to the edge of the balcony, spotting the familiar mirror akuma they’d battled just today wandering off behind an alley, “Oh no! Marinette!” Tikki just caught herself in time, shaking her head vehemently before flying in the other direction. 

Towards Master Fu.

She zipped this way and that, phasing through buildings as shortcuts to the guardian, who, upon entering his home, was playing a game of shogi with Wayyz.  

“Master!” the old man’s wise gaze met Tikki’s with an arched brow. 

“Tikki, can this wait a moment? I’m certain I’ll win this time.” Wayyz just smiled and took a sip of his green tea, shaking his head. 

Tikki immediately flew in front of Master Fu’s face, “Marinette’s been kidnapped by an akuma!” 

Master Fu’s eyes widened in surprise, “What? Why didn’t you tell me this before? We have to contact Chat Noir.” Master Fu quickly reached for his phone, not noticing the exasperated look Tikki was giving him while Wayyz was shaking his head and patting her shoulder in understanding. 

Master Fu waited a few beats, the caller finally picking up, “Adrien! You have to get here as soon as possible! It’s an emergency!”  

Adrien’s surprised voice entered the old man’s ears, “Huh? Master Fu!? What emergency? Wait, where did you get my phone number-“ 

“That is of no importance! Marinette has been kidnapped by an akuma!” he shot the two kwami’s worried looks, who could only return them. 

Surprise turned to worry and seriousness, “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” 

Master Fu hung up, rubbing his chin worriedly, “Tikki, have you seen what akuma it was?” he already had a hunch, but he had to ask nonetheless. 

Tikki was flying around in circles, her big blue eyes shining with concern, “It was the same mirror akuma we fought today! But there was also a chameleon with her, Hawkmoth must be using Mayura’s help again!” 

Wayyz flew up to hover beside Tikki, “Master, if this is true, we will need to use the help of the other Miraculous to help save Marinette!” master and kwami’s gaze met, one imploring, the other thoughtful, until Master Fu made his decision with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“You’re right, Wayyz. It would be wise to call upon Rena Rouge and Carapace.” He moved to the Miraculous box, punching in the code as the slots started to open, just in time rushed footsteps thundered towards the closed door to the room. 

Tikki quickly flew behind the gramophone to hide, none other than Chat Noir slamming the door open, eyes wild and searching, “Master Fu!”  

The guardian turned around to address the young hero, “Calm down, Chat Noir. You’ll need to deliver the Miraculous to people you trust, Mayura is aiding Hawkmoth this time as well.”

Chat Noir’s eyes narrowed, “Where is Ladybug? She should be here by now! Who knows what the akuma may have done to Marinette.” His fists clenched, his baton shaking slightly within his enclosed hand. 

Master Fu and Wayyz shared a look, “Ladybug is unavailable as of this moment, which is why you’ll need the help of other heroes to deal with the akuma if you want to save your friend.” 

Something changed in Chat Noir, perhaps it was the straightening of his shoulders, or the sharpened look in his eyes, but he resolutely headed for the door, “No. I’ll deal with this akuma myself.”  

Alarm bells already rang within the old guardian’s head, “Chat Noir, wait! Hawkmoth is not alone, you cannot possibly defeat the akuma on your own with Mayura’s powers making him stronger!” 

The blond turned his head, fingers gripping the doorknob tightly, “I’m sorry Master Fu, but this is my fight. Akumatizing a person is one thing, but kidnapping Marinette is personal.” His gaze darkened, “I’ll bring her back safe and sound.” With that, his form disappeared behind the door, a bell chime the only indicator of how fast he rushed out the front door.

Master Fu gripped his forehead, sitting down on the small cushion on the floor, “What shall we do Master? He can’t possibly defeat the akuma without help!” Wayyz’s gaze shifted worriedly to the door where Chat Noir ran out of. 

Tikki flew away from her hiding spot, an angry look about her, “That stupid cat, Plagg! His charges have always been reckless, but this one is young and reckless!” 

Master Fu sighed heavily, looking at the fox and bee Miraculous, “Protective, I would say.” 

Wayyz watched the way his own charge’s gaze wandered to the old photo of him and Marianne, the black and white photo looked well worn, but it was as precious to his master as the day it was taken.

Chat Noir leapt from roof to roof, running along the sides of the buildings, scaling up lamp posts to look out for a rampaging akuma. 

Where were the panicked shouts of the citizens? Why weren’t there no akuma alarms? 

Chat Noir was heading toward the park near Dupont before a small swarm of butterflies suddenly flew up in front of him, morphing into the shape of Hawkmoth’s mask, “Hello Chat Noir.” 

Chat Noir’s staff was pointed threateningly at the butterflies, ears drawn back in anger, “Hawkmoth! Tell me where Marinette is!” 

A dark chuckle rang out from the mask, “Ah, yes the girl. Let’s make a deal Chat Noir, in exchange for getting the girl safe and sound returned to you, you’ll give me your Miraculous and Ladybug’s!” 

Chat Noir growled, “Let’s make another deal, Hawkmoth, let Marinette go and I won’t beat up your akuma too much!” 

Another dark chuckle, “How amusing, it seems a mere girl is more important to Paris’ superhero than fulfilling his duty as protector of this city!” 

Chat Noir jumped, his staff cleanly hitting the center of the butterflies and Hawkmoth’s mask disappeared, the dark butterflies flying around haphazardly, “I haven’t noticed your akuma attacking anybody right now, so saving Marinette is my duty to fulfill! Now tell me where she is!” 

Hawkmoth made a disgruntled noise from the swarming butterflies, “I see, I’ll need to take your Miraculous first before I can get Ladybug’s! If you want to try and save your precious Marinette, return to the place you’ve met your match in the past and give up your Miraculous!”

The swarm of butterflies flew away, Chat Noir glaring after them with Hawkmoth’s laughter still echoing annoyingly in his head.  

“Met my match? What did he mean?” Chat Noir paced the pavement until he stopped short in realization, “Copycat!”

He knew where he had to go.

Marinette hit the invisible wall as hard as she could, her fists throbbing in pain from trying to escape her glass prison. 

Kaleido’s obnoxious voice was all around her, “It’s useless, you foolish girl! Nobody can escape from my mirror prison unless I let them out!” she laughed and Marinette cringed at the loudness of the voice in the vacant space she was trapped in. 

She didn’t have anything here, just mirrors, all reflecting her own reflection back at herself from all angles, nothing she could use to get out of her situation, “If only I had brought Tikki with me!” she cursed her luck, walking toward a standing mirror and sliding down to sit on the floor, trying to think of ways how to escape, “I don’t know why I got kidnapped, but no doubt Chat Noir is waiting for Ladybug to show up and deal with the akuma. He can’t possibly find us here, why didn’t Hawkmoth let her be out in the open? Why in this place again?” she remembered this place vaguely, it was the same warehouse where Chat Noir had been kidnapped by Copycat. 

Marinette sighed, “How ironic. We both got kidnapped in the same place.” She glanced at the mirrors, mildly unsettled by her own gaze staring back at her, “…Does Hawkmoth intend to lure Chat Noir here? But how? He has no way of knowing where the akuma is or that I even got kidnapped! Wait…could he…? Did Hawkmoth possibly figure out that…that I’m Ladybug? But he didn’t ask me for my Miraculous yet and Kaleido doesn’t seem to know anything either….so why was I kidnapped?” Marinette frowned, despair and helplessness finally getting the better of her.

She held her face in her hands, catching sight of her anguished face staring back at her from the mirror beneath her. 

A memory flashed before her mind’s eye, the time she wanted to quit using the Miraculous, quit being Ladybug. The time where Alya nearly got hurt because of an akuma attack. She frowned and clenched her hands, a burst of white-hot rage and determination filling her chest as she jumped to her feet and walked over to the small window-like shape she could look out of, “Hey! Hey, you!” she shouted at Kaleido, who finally turned around, “Why are you listening to Hawkmoth? I’m sure your problem can be solved without kidnapping innocent people!”  

Kaleido blinked questioningly, her eyes, one which itself seemed like a small mirror, “You don’t understand, you’re just a little girl.” 

Marinette’s fists were shaking beside her hips but she willed her voice to remain calm, “Try me.” 

The akumatized woman scoffed, crossing her arms, “As if someone like you could understand the pain of losing something precious. The mirror that was shattered before my eyes had been in my family for generations, it represented my family’s gift of overcoming any obstacle, just like the mirror survived all sorts of things while it had been in our possession and now it’s broken.” Marinette could hear the pain in the older woman’s voice, until the butterfly mask appeared over her face again. 

“Kaleido! Prepare yourself! Chat Noir should be coming any moment now!” Hawkmoth’s irritated voice echoed in her head again and Kaleido groaned in frustration.

-------------

Chat Noir carefully crawled behind stacked-up boxes, peering over the rim of one at Kaleido and the hand mirror on the table by her side, seeing Marinette’s tiny form trapped within.

His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fist in anger, “How dare they kidnap Marinette!” Chat Noir reached for his baton until his ears picked up a noise behind him. 

Immediately, he fell into a crouch, rolling over the floor but spotting nothing. 

Then, a long tongue shot out from seemingly nowhere, nearly striking him if it weren’t for his good reflexes, “What in the-! There’s nothing there! What was that!”

He felt something wet and warm wrap around his ankle, hauling him into the air and throwing him into the open center where he remembered getting chained to the ground with his confrontation with Copycat. 

Thinking on his feet, Chat Noir quickly moved out of reach of Kaleido, stepping on the same warm and wet thing that had throwing him into the air. 

He looked behind him, spotting flickering shapes and colors, “No! My pet!” Kaleido adjusted the large mirror and reflected the slivers of light peering into the warehouse back at Chat’s face, nearly blinding him.

He stumbled, crouching low to regain his footing and sight, spotting just what had been harassing him this whole time.

It was walking toward Kaleido, the large chameleon’s colors were changing, switching between the lighter shades of the mirrors and the darker background of the boxes behind it. 

“It’s you again!” Chat Noir glared at the akuma, eyes zeroing in on Marinette, “Marinette!”  

Marinette’s head shot up at the sound of her name, at the sound of Chat Noir’s voice, “Kitty! In here!” she waved, waves of relief washing over her at spotting him. 

He was here. He was here to save her. 

Chat Noir broke his baton in half, elongating it and spinning the two halves in both his hands, “Just stay put princess! You have a look around while I’ll see to it that I defeat your captor!”

Marinette rolled her eyes at his dramatics but frowned in worry as Kaleido herself advanced upon him, with Chat Noir already charging. 

His baton bounced off of her mirror dress, the light impairing his vision as her chameleon kept trying to trip and distract Chat Noir while Kaleido tried grabbing him and take away his Miraculous. 

This wasn’t good, Chat Noir couldn’t handle two akuma alone, he needed help. Why didn’t  Master Fu send for the other heroes?  

Marinette looked around again, surrounded by her mirrors as she was, growing frustrated at her sheer helplessness while her partner was in a tight spot. 

In a fit of rage, Marinette beat her fist upon one of the standing mirror, causing a miniature crack on it’s otherwise pristine surface. 

“Ah!” her eyes widened at the yelp of pain and she whirled around, spotting Kaleido clutching at her chest. 

Did she just-? 

Marinette looked back at the mirrors, “Is this…her heart? The mirrors that reflected her?” Marinette remembered the one eye the woman had made of glass, “The eyes…the eyes are the window to one’s soul…” she looked back at the mirror before her and shouted out as loud as she could, “Chat Noir!” 

Her kitty was flipping over the chameleon while deflecting shards of glass thrown at him at the same time, “I’m…” he kicked away another shard aimed at his face,”-kinda…” Chat Noir sidestepped chameleon’s tongue again, “-busy, princess!” 

“Chat Noir! You have to break the hand mirror!” Marinette could see the panic and disapproval instantly on his face. 

“Not before I get you out of it princess!” 

Marinette shook her head, “Break it now Chat Noir, trust me!” 

Kaleido immediately moved in front of the hand mirror protectively, “No! I won’t allow you to break another one of my family heirlooms!”

Chat Noir frowned, watching chameleon warily circling him, “If I break the mirror while you’re in it, who knows what will happen! I’ll get you out of there first!” Chat Noir charged again, jumping on the wall to gain momentum and slammed his staff onto Kaleido’s mirror, the staff bouncing off it’s steel-like surface. 

Marinette stomped her foot, “We don’t have time Chat Noir! You have to break it now! Use Cataclysm! Trust me kitty!” 

Despite the distance, their gazes met once Kaleido moved, an unspoken agreement passing between them.

Chat Noir steeled himself, “Cataclysm!” calling upon his power, Chat Noir threw his baton at the chameleon’s head, striking the lizard directly on his head, dazing him momentarily. It allowed him room to finally move freely, running on all fours straight towards an angry Kaleido. 

“How dare you, you mangy cat!” she moved her hands over her mirrors, trying to hit Chat Noir’s eyes with the reflected light, but he cleverly used his messy hair to block out most of the sun, pupils dilating and zeroing in on the handmirror and Marinette’s reassuring smile.

Trust me, kitty.

Chat Noir jumped, right over Kaleido’s head, landing on top of the table, “Hey!” Kaleido turned, agitated, “Mirror, mirror on the wall-“ Chat Noir lifted his hand with Cataclysm active, “Who’s the prettiest of them all?” his gaze caught Marinette’s and he destroyed the mirror into millions of pieces on the ground.  

Almost immediately, Kaleido fell to the ground in pain, clutching at her chest, “NO!”

The dark butterfly flew out of the broken mirror and Chat Noir quickly captured it in his hands, wondering where on earth Ladybug was to purify it. 

Just then, a green blur flew past straight towards him, “Chat Noir!” 

“Wha- Wayyz? What are you doing here?” Chat Noir looked down at the mirror, worrying where Marinette was. Shouldn’t she have come out of the mirror? Did she trap her in it forever now that it was broken? 

The wise kwami smiled, indicating at Chat Noir’s clasped hands, “I believe you have something for me.”

The cat blinked at him, dumbstruck, “…Huh?”

Wayyz shook his head, “The akuma! Release it!” why were people giving him such weird orders lately?

“But-“

“Trust me!” 

Chat Noir frowned, hesitantly opening his hands, watching the dark insect flying out of it, heading for the crack in the ceiling. His panic grew the closer it got, but Wayyz suddenly sailed in the air and swallowed it whole in his mouth, holding it in his mouse before releasing a pure white butterfly with a wave of light, similar to Lucky Charm, washing over the warehouse. 

The small hand mirror was repaired, the woman freed from Hawkmoth’s control, kneeling on the ground, gingerly holding the object in her hands. 

“Wait, where is Mari- woah!” a sudden weight crashed on his back, knocking the air clean out of him. 

“Ouch!” a yelp on top of him made his entire body freeze. 

“Marinette!” the poor girl was knocked over from her secret partner excitedly righting himself, pulling her along straight into his arms in a tight hug. 

“C-Chat Noir?” she blinked, clutching at his back. What happened? One minute she was in the mirror, surrounded in darkness when Chat Noir destroyed it, then a white light flashed and she was being hugged by Chat Noir? 

Marinette sighed, letting some of her weight fall against Chat Noir, who easily supported her, “Thank you for saving me kitty.” She patted his back appreciatively, hearing and feeling the distinctive purring sound.   

She giggled. 

Chat Noir nuzzled against the side of her head, “I couldn’t have done it without your quick thinking princess.” His grip around her tightened, “Just please don’t get captured by akumas again.” Marinette smiled, hearing the worry seeping in his tone. 

They broke apart, smiling at each-other, before Marinette moved toward the silent woman still kneeling on the ground, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry for kidnapping you, I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Marinette shook her head, “Don’t worry, I believe you. Hawkmoth was controlling you, it wasn’t your fault.” Her gaze moved towards the mirror the woman held in her hands, “Is… this also a family heirloom?” she remembered how protective the woman had been of it. 

The older female nodded, stroking the glassy surface of the mirror with a finger, “Yes, it’s from my father, he used to craft mirrors before he died. This was a gift from him.”  

Marinette nodded, giving the woman a tender smile, “I’m sorry for your loss about the bigger mirror, but at least you have this one whole. I think it’s an opportunity to start over while keeping the things you cherish still close to your heart. I understand that the mirror was important, but just because it shattered doesn’t mean you yourself have to. Jut like the mirror, you may have a few cracks, but they can be mended.” Marinette gestured toward the small mirror, “Despite everything, you still have this, see it as something hopeful. Something where you can start over.” 

The woman smiled, giving Marinette’s hand a brief squeeze in thanks, “Thank you young lady, you made me remember something important about myself today. I’m glad you have such a dedicated boyfriend who saved you.” Her gaze wandered over to Chat Noir, “Thank you too for saving me Chat Noir.”   

Chat Noir nodded, grinning, “Don’t mention it!” 

Meanwhile, Marinette was frozen, “….Boyfriend? Chat Noir? Was she talking about Chat Noir?” before Marinette could respond, Chat Noir’s hand was on her shoulder pulling her up. 

“Let’s get you back home princess.” Chat Noir wrapped an arm around Marinette’s back and under her legs, gripping onto his staff while holding her legs up, “Will you be alright miss?” 

The woman smiled and nodded, “Yes, thank you. 

Chat Noir nodded, eyes searching in the room for Wayyz, “Wa-“ wait…where did he go?! Did he already return to Master Fu?

“Something wrong, kitty?” Marinette rose an eyebrow, keeping a firm grip on Chat Noir’s neck. 

“Not at all princess!” Chat grinned, relief washing over him again as they finally walked out of the stuffy warehouse, “I’m…just glad you’re safe, Marinette.” He shot her a genuine smile and Marinette had to think back on the woman’s words. 

Boyfriend. 

Marinette shook her head stubbornly, trying to think of Adrien and not how warm Chat Noir felt as he carried her over the rooftops of Paris back towards her home.

---------------

“No! Not again!” Hawkmoth paced his lair, Mayura sighing behind him, “Why?! How did Chat Noir defeat both my akuma and your guardian?!” 

Mayura coughed into her hand, trying to still the coughs wrecking her body, “It is peculiar, especially without Ladybug’s help. However, perhaps it was the fact we kidnapped his… associate that his determination to save her grew?” 

Hawkmoth stopped his pacing, meeting Mayura’s gaze, “…His determination…” he clenched his fist, eyes alight with dark intent, “My determination is greater! I shall get my hands on Chat Noir’s and Ladybug’s Miraculous sooner than they think! Then, we will see who is victorious in the end.” Hawkmoth chuckled while Mayura felt sadness swell within her chest. 

Bonus:

Chat Noir waved at Marinette, feeling calm now that he knew she was safe again.

He hoped  Wayyz was alright, he had no idea kwamis could purify akumas by swallowing and then spitting them out? He wondered if Plagg could do that too?

He would probably try to eat them or not even think of it if they weren’t made of cheese.

Chat Noir laughed, until a sudden thought hit him.

Master Fu was the one that called him to save Marinette.

There was no akuma alarm so the citizens weren’t even aware that Hawkmoth had attacked twice today.

How had master Fu known?

...How did he know Marinette?

Thank you very much for reading! :) Hope you enjoyed!

[iraniq]

BLOG /3/

*

Anonymos wrote:

I know this is safe space that share that kind of stuff. And no one is gonna sue me, or threaten me, or anything. Also I feared my pal was gonna be in trouble... So I share it rather later... So here I go!

Let's call me A, I am a human girl, obviously, no other species is so dumb... Anyway, I am... Oh god, there is no turning back I guess... I am dating a Titan, kinda... Sorta.

As far as you know, there are like almost 20 Titans, and ancient beings who ruled the planet before life as we know it. They are in slumber and we aren't allowed to bother them. But some people, and not only people, go to peak... So I went to peak too. We were at a group excursion to the Cold Lands. I knew the location and went to see.

As I expected it was beyond beautiful! A huge 3 headed dragon like creature. It was indescribable! He was frozen in there. I climbed all the stairs up, that almost gave me a heart attack. My fat ass isn't made for this. So I got to the level of his eyes and the feeling inside me made me touch the ice. Then he opened his eye. I screamed and ran away. Twisted an ankle and rolled several steps down.

I know awaking a Titan is punishing by law, because of the natural order and everything.

Back to the group I said some mutant kids scared me, which isn't a new thing. Mutants hate humans in their guts. /if a mutant is reading this, don't get offended or dramatic, it's true, one of you chased me several blogs to scare me, so I didn't exactly lied/.

Anyway....

When I got home I went and stayed with my patents for a while. Obviously of fear. When I finally returned to the city I live in, turns out there was a new person in the neighborhood. The chatty girl from the supermarket informed me. A lovely skinny boy with long hair and amazing amber eyes.

Several days later I met him in the library, he was reading about Titans. "wow, a pretty boy interested in the same stuff like me, it must be a sign". Later energetics growth population is a huge subject /nothing personal guys, big fan here, also I bet you wanna break of all this too/.

We spoke, he looked inexperienced in body moving, so I thought he was on of the many creatures that live on cycles. We spoke the whole day. Then he walked me home. Completely innocently. Next day we went for ice-cream. Then for cake, picnic....

First time I kissed him he had no idea what I did. He was talking ancient titan history and long forgotten plants that must be brought back to clear the air and everything. Then I kissed him. He wasn't good at physical contact, was unknown for him. Was still a little uncomfortable when I hug him. Rarely allowed me to hold his hand. Was waving them both when speaking. So when I kissed him, he just proceed talking, thinking I did a normal thing. Then he suddenly stopped and asked why I am sad. I teared up. He was so beautiful and smart, what was he doing with me anyway. I shared this with himm, explained what a kiss is. Then he held my hand and said he traveled a lot to find me. Said I got his attention from all people putting their hands on the ice. Said I was in a way special. He felt something when I put my hand there. So he in a way woke up, and inhabited a human so he can find me.

I swear at this moment my heart was gonna explode. I wasn't even breathing. I knew what he was talking about. I got up and tried to run, but fainted.

When I woke up I was at his place. Like the house in the neighborhood. He was giving a lessons in the museum, so he could afford himself a nice place.

He explained he wasn't exactly awake, more like the half asleep state where you look for water to drink in the middle of the night. He asked me not to run away again, because he wasn't here to hurt me or anyone else. Possessing a human's body wasn't allowed to them. Yes, we are low level existence /yes, not only humans, all are low level existence compared to Titans/. He said he did this to find me, talk to me. Know me better. I was shocked, as everyone else would. For a while I avoided him. This grudge, of the lie, mixed mostly with pure primal fear, lasted exactly 2 days and half. Wednesday night I went to see him. We spoke, ate, watched a movie... Had sex. Yes, I had sex with the human body that was possessed by the mind of an ancient being. I realize how crazy it is, and yes, you are all invited to my aslym welcoming party. In the Cold Lands where he actually was, was reported an electricity problem. Obviously there was a power overload. They didn't said anything about the huge massive Titan sleeping there, sort of. But his real body was there, and I had sex with... A puppet, but I am sure it had effect.... You know.

This all happened and lasted for almost 3 years. The last 7 years he isn't here. I woke up one morning and there was a cold dead body next to me. I freaked. Tried to wake him. Then googled about him. Nothing. I got me a ticket, before they stopped the traffic there. Sometimes Titans were in this half awake state and all civilizations were moved away. In fear of waking them or enraging them.

I arrived. There were several law enforcement cars, I easily passed by. I went in the cave... guess what... He wasn't there... I found him in the hot water nearby.

For the record, he is having 3 heads and huuuuge wings. Nothing as big as you can even imagine.

Fun fact: all the 3 heads did not share common mind. And only one liked me - the middle one. The other 2 used the mind thing he did to awake themselves. They weren't exactly pleased to see me. One was bitten, the other was slapped away, and they returned to the boiling hot well.

My... Boyfriend, if I may say this, came to say 'hi'. The iris of his eye was bigger than me... This was ridiculous. I don't even know what was onto me back then.

He gently breathed onto me, it was like a wind, almost blowing me away. I awkwardly laughed. We couldn't speak. He wanted to touch me, but feared not to hurt me. So he decided to poke me with his tongue. It was split in 2 like snake. I am not gonna lie - a huge dragon, with the most beautiful amber eyes, carefully touching me with his tongue it's a huge turn on! I shaked this thought away. He then changed his mind, or realized what this did to me and just put his head on the ground and I sat there, next to him.

It was warm and sunny and I was exhausted, so I fell asleep. I was awoken by sirens and helicopters. Turns out the Titan King came to fight him. Thinking he was awoken with bad intentions. As he was a little mischievous. After they fought. The King stopped and they sorted things out. I swore the Titan king looked at my direction before leaving. After this the dragon was forcely frozen, since the other 2 wanted to wreak havoc.

Since then I am the only one allowed to be there. On the other side of the Frozen Mountain there was a wasteland island, I was given a task to turn into a green one. If I may say I do quite well. I have solar panels and everything. Every full moon I visit my boyfriend and talk to him. He is allowed only one eye open. He must keep the other 2 heads asleep.

I won't lie, I take pleasure in our meetings... Yes I have a monster fetish if you missed it somewhere in my story...

I tell you this, because last night there was an official report, 2 other Titans are awake, with killing thoughts. The King is nowhere to be found. I, after posting this all will go to awake my boyfriend and ask him to help us.

If you see the huge 3 headed dragon from everyone's nightmares, dont bother him, or attack him, he is here to help. In the worst case, he will refuse and I will stay there with him. Either to safety, or to my death.

*

Posted 3h ago.

*

> dragonhunter: the perfect specimen to kill!

> lilttle fairy: "dragonhunter: the perfect specimen to kill!" - dude, you insane, we talk about a Titan, not some big shining in the dark dragon!

> GManKung: "lilttle fairy: dude, you insane, we talk about a Titan, not some big shining in the dark dragon!" - I pee on your wings! Long live the King!

> user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!

> unknown5: "user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!" - I bet that's a mutant!

> peaky: "unknown5: "user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!" - I bet that's a mutant!" - does it matter? No hate in here, remember!

> unknown5: peaky: "unknown5: "user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!" - I bet that's a mutant!" - does it matter? No hate in here, remember!" - where did you saw hate?

> user25614390: "unknown5: "user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!" - I bet that's a mutant!" - she banged a Titan!

> unknown5: "user25614390: "unknown5: "user25614390; Hello creatures! Did you all miss the fact homo sapiens banged a Titan. This species is insane!" - I bet that's a mutant!" - she banged a Titan!" - jealous much! Maybe no one wants to bang you!

> SimplyMe: OMG... LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

> FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "SimplyMe: OMG... LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!" SAAAAME!

> WolfGirl7: Did someone checked the news? What is happening?

> FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "WolfGirl7: Did someone checked the news?" - nothing! There was a Titan awakening, but nothing more...

> WolfGirl7: "FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "WolfGirl7: Did someone checked the news?" - nothing! There was a Titan awakening, but nothing more..." - Do you think she is ok?

> FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "WolfGirl7: "FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "WolfGirl7: Did someone checked the news?" - nothing! There was a Titan awakening, but nothing more..." - Do you think she is ok?" - hope so.

> Ava: I will appreciate if you stop proclaiming human - mutant hate. All species have their idiots.

> SimplyMe: @Ava yes, but point me a mutant species with the balls/pair of ovaries who did this! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

> user25614390: she banged Titan!

> unknown5: "user25614390: she banged Titan!" - SHUT THE FUCK up! What's your problem, ha? A human is trying to help, it's rare enough, if you don't like it, don't read it, go to fap somewhere!!!

> FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "unknown5: "user25614390: she banged Titan!" - shut the Fuck up! What's your problem, ha? A human is trying to help, it's rare enough, if you don't like it, don't read it, go to fap somewhere!!!" - standing applause my friend.

> SimplyMef @FOOD_FOR_BRAINS I am with you!

> Ava: As a human representative u agree as well!

> NoNamme: did she just described Ghidorah? You know that's outer space ancient predator. That was really awaken several years ago. It was THE ULTIMATE POWER! Do you even history? He didn't killed the world because of her... Why 'anonymous' girl? If this is true, you must be Queen, no Goddess of this world.

> BiteMe: " NoNamme: did she just described Ghidorah? You know that's outer space ancient predator. That was really awaken several years ago. It was THE ULTIMATE POWER! Do you even history? He didn't killed the world because of her... Why 'anonymous' girl? If this is true, you must be Queen, no Goddess of this world." - Dude no... If Ghidorah was to be awaken it was gonna be the end of the world. Nothing to stop it's need for destruction. Not to mention a homo sapiens with vagina.

> Lorrres: "BiteMe: " NoNamme: did she just described Ghidorah? You know that's outer space ancient predator. That was really awaken several years ago. It was THE ULTIMATE POWER! Do you even history? He didn't killed the world because of her... Why 'anonymous' girl? If this is true, you must be Queen, no Goddess of this world." - Dude no... If Ghidorah was to be awaken it was gonna be the end of the world. Nothing to stop it's need for destruction. Not to mention a homo sapiens with vagina." - true! I have 2 of these, and even this didn't stopped my one duck boyfriend from cheating on me. I think it's fake. Titans are in this half asleep state for several days once in several years. Check the official website. Nothing about awakening. Fake news.

> KiilKo: that's ridiculous! If it's really Ghidorah the whole planet was gonna be alerted. He is a killing monster! @BiteMe true!

> KiilKo: @Lorrres sorry to hear this, but also true! exatctly a home sapiens... Hard to believe, if it was a Nymph, siren or a fairy maby.

> user63490024: IT'S ALL CONSPIRACY GUYS! OF COURSE THEY WON'T SAY GHIDORAH IS AWAKE! THIS WILL CAUSE MASS PANIC. I went to the Cold Lands several years ago. It was all shut close, 'no reason' they said. But it was Ghidorah I know!!!!

> Call.Me.Kcalyu: "Lorrres: "> BiteMe; " NoNamme: did she just described Ghidorah? You know that's outer space ancient predator. That was really awaken several years ago. It was THE ULTIMATE POWER! Do you even history? He didn't killed the world because of her... Why 'anonymous' girl? If this is true, you must be Queen, no Goddess of this world." - Dude no... If Ghidorah was to be awaken it was gonna be the end of the world. Nothing to stop it's need for destruction. Not to mention a homo sapiens with vagina." - true! I have 2 of these, and even this didn't stopped my one duck boyfriend from cheating on me. I think it's fake. Titans are in this half asleep state for several days once in several years. Check the official website. Nothing about awakening. Fake news." - I vote on this. Probably some perverted mind that wanted a new sex slave. Or a dragon who can do mind control, because there are several species who do this... Poor girl. Really believed she banged a Titan.... @user25614390 where you go? To look for Titans to bang xD. Everyone in this website are on drugs!

> WolfGirl7: don't underestimate the power of love. Species doesn't matter there!

> FOOD_FOR_BRAINS: "WolfGirl7: don't underestimate the power of love. Species doesn't matter there!" - YES!

> SimplyM: @WolfGirl7 !!!!!

> Ava: Always with you, Lara!

--------

@diyunho @rhina988 @nikkitasevoli @sougie @lovermrjokerr @elliegrace139 @lylabell2013 @darthjokerisyourfather @pandaliciouz @batsnspiderz @lovermrjokerr

[erenevune]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Plotholes

So, obviously there will be spoilers for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child in this post/rant. If you have no wish to be spoiled, stop reading now and scroll away.

First off I would like to preface by saying that I've seen the play twice now so I have a pretty good idea of what happens in it. Once in London (2017) and again in Melbourne a couple weeks ago (2019), and though I own the script I haven't read yet. However I have read this lovely version of it. They took the script and wrote it as a novel without removing any of the original script and incorporating somethings in to connect the scenes ad plausibly as possible. Go read it, it's great. https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666957

Anyway, I like the play. It's fun to watch and the music and sound effects and such are amazing. Scorpius is the best and I adore him. That isn't to say I don't have major problems with the story itself. We all know there are many many many plot holes and that Rowling didn't write it herself, but she does consider it canon to the series which is annoying because it breaks rules set in the previous Harry Potter books. I have a few points I have the most issues with.

I dedicate this rant to @onehealer to whom I ranted with about this for an hour through DM's.

So firstly: Fidelius charm who?

In the final act, Scorpius and Albus can see the potters house even though it's under the fidelius charm. They've never been there before, Harry tried multple times to take Ablus it seems but was turned down, and only read about it in books at most.... does that count as them knowing the Secret? No, it doesn't otherwise people who knew the address of the home before the charm was cast they would know. It can be excused that Delphi technically was never shown to have known where the house was, only knowing they were in Godrics Hollow... which also goes with the fact that knowing the address in the future meant nothing. Imagine Voldemort pulling out a phone book to find their address and suddenly being able to see their home. It also seemed like she didn't want to go after the Potters herself, she was only there to get to Voldemort first. So that's fine.

The issue is that somehow the two boys were able to see through the charm. And going with this vein, how did Ron, Hermione and Draco see as well? Literally only Harry should be able to see the Potter home because he was part of what the charm was protecting and thus knew the Secret, even if he was only a baby at the time.

Time travel should not negate the charm, why would that work? The charm is still active in the time they currently exist in, and this is an ancient, powerful and complex spell too.

"Maybe they knew because Harry told Albus about it." Sure, that could have worked, but it doesn't. When the Secret Keeper dies, anyone who was told the Secret becomes a Secret Keeper (Because you can originally choose more than one), so when Peter Pettigrew died, at the very least Harry would have the Secret. Probably Dumbledore and Sirius too, at least. But the problem with that is that the Fidelius charm was broken the night Lily and James Potter died, thus there was no longer a Secret. How else would the location become common knowledge in the Wizarding World? There's a monument to the Potters for crying out loud. People visited to pay their respects to them. So, Albus was never told the Secret because there wasn't one any longer.

There's literally no way anyone but Harry should have been able to see the Potter home. Even giving it some rope, they shouldn't have been able to see the house until Harry points it out to them, aka tells them where it is, because it could be argued that he could technically give out the Secret, having been part of it originally, but even then he wasn't a Secret Keeper and from how I understand it, just because you knew the secret didn't give you the ability to tell anyone unless you're a Secret Keeper.

The worst part about this plot hole is that not only is it massive, the plot of the story relies on it's existence to progress. Sometimes plot holes can be forgiven, but when the story relies on their existence? Especially such an enormous one? No, just no.

(As a little aside, I just want to bring attention to the fact Scorpius and Albus somehow made their way from Hogwarts, in the Scottish Highlands, to Godrics Hollow in less than a day. That's a long way, not to mention they had no wands, no food, no money, no sleep, no warm clothes and probably not wanting to risk talking to any wizards for fear if changing the timeline or accidently finding a Death Eater. There's also the fact Scorpius had just been Crucio'd at least 3 times in the last hour. Kudos to Scorpius for managing to get there with Albus, hot damn.)

Second, Wtf Albus?

Seriously, wtf. Don't get me wrong, I do like Albus but he's definitely a spoiled/ungrateful little brat at times, with as Scorpius puts it, a chip on his shoulder.

The thing I, well I wont say hate because i do like his character but it's close enough, most about him is his decision to go back and save Cedric in the first place. Like its a nice thought, but dude, why?

Why does Cedric deserve to live more than literally anyone else Voldenort killed? What makes him more deserving of you risking everything to go back and save?

Why does a 17yr old who signed up for a tournament that is known to have resulted in the deaths of its competitors many times in it's history, deserve to live more than all those 11-17 year olds killed at Hogwarts trying to flee or fight? All the adults who fought and died in the battle? All those people killed during either war? A lot of people who died because of Voldemort didn't sign up to put themselves in danger.

If it's about some semblance of a connection, of which there really isn't any in this case, what about Fred? Your uncle? Someone your uncle George probably still dies inside over? I mean he even gave up their joke shop to Ron, possibly to avoid memories of the twin brother who died?

Why does some kid you have no connection to other than his dad blaming yours for killing him when he literally had no way of knowing what the fuck was going on until he was already dead?? Why does he deserve to live more? I don't get it.

And then he blames Harry for Cedric's death like he had any chance to prevent it? Dude, seriously, he was the SAME AGE as you are now when this happened, I'd fucking like to see you do better??

Another thing I dislike is that Albus is never really able to experience the consequences of his actions and what could have happened. Because, you know, he stopped existing and Scorpius had to deal with it on his own.

There's also the way he treats Harry but I'll get to that in a sec.

Harry was doing his best, honestly he was. He sometimes seems a little out of character, but even still. I understand why he could be seen that way. We know he's under a lot of stress from his work at the Ministry, especially since it's to do with creatures that sided with Voldemort that are going missing or whatever. Then there's the nightmares involving Voldy and his scar hurting again after years of nothing. Stress, lots and lots of stress.

Then there's Albus. Harry has trouble understanding his son, he's not easy like James and Lily. Which is fine. But the problem is that Harry tries his best to reach Albus but he's never met halfway.

Albus seen my to refuse to believe anything but hero propaganda about Harry and his life at Hogwarts, and seems to have ignored literally anyone in his adult family who says differently. He doesn't seem to grasp to suffering and trauma that Harry has and grew up with, and scoffs in the face of it. Harry isn't perfect, but he's a good dad trying his best with a child who is frankly quite ungrateful.

Albus was being a little fucking spoiled brat to Harry and the poor dude was probably at his wits end with the one kid of his he didn't truly understand and who went out of his way to hate on everything Harry did and went through in his life. Like I said, Harry was under lots of stress from his job and so of course he would snap, anyone would, and say something they regret when provoked. Especially when you're trying your best to connect with your kid, even if it's not going great it's still an effort to do so, and then your kid just out and out says he wishes he wasn't your son? I think a lot of people would retort with something similarly hurtful. Harry immediately regrets it but both parties have been hurt so Albus storms off.

It's very annoying that everyone else in the play seems to be blaming Harry for Albus hating being his son and running off / running off to do something stupid. He was very obviously doing his best even though Albus was giving him nothing to work with. And for some strange reason people seemed to think Harry was in any way popular in 4th year? Like seriously people, where the fuck did that idea come from? Everyone hated Harry in his 4th year lol. Albus must be getting his info from a source as credible as Rita Skeeter if that's the case, that or every character magically, ha, forgot what really happened.

I also get annoyed at how they deal with the first alternate timeline. The first time they mess with time, Hermione and Ron never get married, Ron marries and has a son with Padma Patil and Albus ends up in Gryffindor. Harry proceeds to force a separation between the two boys for Albus safety, having been told there was a "black cloud" around his son. Of course the only person Albus hangs out with is Scorpius, and assuming events happened the same they had just jumped off the Hogwarts Express and gone missing for a bit, and assuming they had the same argument where they both say they wish they weren't the father/son of the other person, then it makes some sense what Harry does. Also, it's an alternate timeline.

But Scorpius tells Albus none of the events in Harry's life changed, so it seems like their meddling didn't change him. At all. I'm sorry, what the actual fuck? Scorpius I love you but no.

Just because the events stayed the same doesn't mean Harry personally wasn't changed in many small ways. There are people and life changing events erased from his experiences. His two best friends never got married and had kids, because Ron never got jelous over Hermione being Krums Yule Ball date. You trying to tell me that Ron and Hermione becoming different people with entirely different personalities didn't have any effect on Harry what so ever??? Bullshit. Like this was a direct and very significant change in his personal timeline and history, I refuse to believe this didn't change him. Hell, he might not even enjoy his job. Hermione isn't Minster for Magic so who knows whether the Ministry was properly freed of corruption and what polices and changes no longer exist, and what new ones might. So many little things that build up and shape someone's personal experiences and shape their personality.

I don't remember if it was ever directly addressed, but I think it was mentioned at the end of the play, but it says/implies(?) that Harry would have separated them and launched an investigation into Scorpius' parentage in the original timeline as well as the alternate one? I don't know if I believe that, and it's unclear if certain things still happened for everyone other than the boys because the changes the boys made were prevented later on when Scorpius is in the alternate universe where Harry was killed.

Another small aside, thank fuck for Scorpius. When he snapped and said something along the lines of "Oh poor little Albus Potter with his chip on his shoulder. At least your dad will always be your dad, mine won't be because everyone wants to tell me it's Voldemort. They want to tell me my poor sweet dead mother was such a monster to have a kid with him." Like damn someone really needed to tell Albus to stop whining about how apparently horrible and selfish his dad is.

Lastly, how the Time Turners function. Yes, I get these are new and one of a kind Time Turners designed and created outside Ministry regulation and designed to go back years at a time. However, it was originally established that time travel in this world with them works as a closed loop. They travel back in time because they already did. Harry survived the Dementors because he cast a patronus charm, and then went back in time to cast that charm because he already did, and if he hadn't he wouldn't have survived to go back in the first place. Closed loops.

In this however, they did actually do things that never happened. They probably even changed how Ron and Hermione got together, because it's unclear if they also prevented Albus casting the fireworks into the air above the second task declaring "Ron loves Hermione".

The only benefit of this fuckery with how Time Turners work is that it would then make sense why time travel fucks everything up so much it creates alternate timelines and alternate universes. It's still annoying that they casually fucked with how it's supposed to work but it's not as big an issue as the Fidelius charm thing. Also why did Hermione of all people keep the fucking thing??? Like I understand to an extent but seriously, and then to have such lax security on it? For fucks sake, don't you remember being 11 and getting past all the security put on the philosophers stone??!?! You might as well have put the time Turner in wrapping paper in comparison, because at least those ones had the potential to seriously maim or kill you.

Scorpius was a great character, I adore him and he was actually really well written. He's the sweetest thing and needs all the hugs. His relationship with his dad (Draco) is also amazing and a well written dysfunction of different personalities and effects of grief, but Draco loves his son no matter what and constantly tries his best. Despite my rant, I also like Albus and I adore their friendship and their dynamic. I don't mind character flaws, but sometimes they do get over the top and annoying like they did with Albus for a while there, mostly because of the way it influenced the plot.

I dont know, I probably missed shit I wanted to say and maybe got a little harsh sometimes but eh, it's a rant for a reason lol. I love the play, but once I start thinking about things that's when it goes a lot downhill from there haha.

Also Scorpius is amazing and I adore him. :)

[novantinuum]

Death and All That Follows (Ch. 2)

A03

Fandom: Trollhunters

Rating: K 

Words: 4000~

Summary: When Merlin's elixir began to work its magic, it cleaved the then-human trollhunter's soul in two. One half lived on in a hybrid's body. You know how this portion of the tale goes, of course.

But what of the other half? What happens to him?

Well... this is his side of the story.

Chapter One

Note: Unfortunately, fic circulation online is getting harder and harder as the months pass. Please, if you read to the end and enjoy, consider helping me out by reblogging this post, or even commenting/giving kudos over on AO3. Thanks! :D

Chapter 2

His soul eclipsed with sheer happiness and relief, he practically threw himself at his once-thought-lost friend. For a split second he feared it was all grief and smoke and mirrors, that he’d merely phase right through the troll’s blue tinted spectral form, even though grabbing Kanjigar’s hand earlier surely proved this world had some degree of solidity. But blessedly, this was not so. Draal stumbled one step backwards as Jim wrapped his arms as far around him as he could, dropping his head against his chest.

“You’re alive,” he gasped in relief.

“Not alive, regrettably. Not really. This is the Void, remember? I’m nothing but a ghost, same as all the others.”

“I don’t care! I watched you die,” he said, barely able to croak out that last word in his hoarse state. “You took that knife for me, and then you fell and you turned to stone and died, a- and the cavern collapsed, and I couldn’t even stop, couldn’t mourn, o- or-“

“Jim,” Draal reminded in an almost uncharacteristically gentle manner. “My death is not your burden to bear. It is my life and my honor to serve the trollhunter. To… to watch over my friends. And I can rest easy knowing that at least that part of my duty has been fulfilled.”

“But you’re my friend too,” he said, peering up to meet his green and gold rimmed eyes. “I should’ve protected you, should’ve saved you! I was so close, and then…”

Instinctively, he lifted his hand to dab away tears with his palm, before finally realizing with shock that he hadn’t actually been crying at all. He didn’t notice until now but he never had been here, at least not in any physical sense. His heart wept, and he felt like his eyes were puffy and wet, but they somehow… weren’t. Why weren’t-? Oh. Oh, of course. He was a spectral being now. His body was nothing more than an outline of hard light, woven together by the might of ancient magic. And much like the Void’s window to reality, this instinct to feel the tangible effects his emotions summoned was merely an afterimage of the human life he’d left behind. Unneeded habit. Distantly, he wondered how long it’d take for habits like these to fade away, but at recalling the centuries many of his predecessors had spent in this place he quickly shoved this distressing notion into the back closet of his mind. He’d address that elephant in the room later. Much… later.

One day, just one day without a double dose of existential crisis, that’s all he wanted. Wow, it’s almost depressing how low the bar was.

Draal moved Jim’s small hands off his stone skin, breaking their embrace. His expression shone with genuine affection, but also a lingering sense of duty.

“Nevertheless, it in the past. Now is not the time to mourn what could have been, not when there’s still a battle to be fought.”

“He’s right,” Deya spoke up from behind them. “Deep beneath Arcadia’s streets, while the trollhunter trains under moonlight, the dark magic grow stronger with each minute that passes. We can sense it.”

“Morgana,” spoke a distant, stray soul in a mournful baritone, flitting about around them in a flickering azure haze.

“Morgana!”

“Morgana is free.”

“The Pale Lady!”

He swallowed hard. The reminder of the eldritch witch who’d tormented his friends only served to heighten his anxiety, festering like an incurable itch in his overactive mind. Another soul moved in haste right past his ear. He bit back a yelp as he flinched, dodging it. Its whispers were fervent, in rhyme, teetering on the edge of madness:

“She returns in haste and fury, Clad in emerald without light! Crystal’s flame will burn no longer, Snuffed out by Eternal Night-“

Deya lifted a hand towards this restless spirit. “Peace, Heliosa, peace. I promise, our hour of glory will soon come.”

Heliosa’s cryptic whispers abated at her words. Her spectral form grew still, hovering in the space between Draal and Jim. It seemed she didn’t plan on manifesting fully like the others, however. Odd. He scoured his mind as he gawked at the spherical light, trying to test if his knowledge could place a face to her name, but he came up blank. History lessons in Blinky’s library felt so achingly distant now. All those lazy evenings between missions spent in the warmth and familiarity of Trollmarket… the nights Aaarrrgghh let Claire and him lean against his back as he rested, and how his mane of hair always engulfed them… Toby, twisting the amulet’s antiquated translations of A Brief Recapitulation into endless puns… the in-joke he shared with Blinky once upon a time, with their running tally of the (rare) occasions they caught Vendel smiling…

His features softened at the rush of fond memories.

“-may recall from Blinkous’ many, many lectures, is one of the most spiritually attuned trollhunters, and-“

Hold on, when exactly did Kanjigar start talking again?

“Wait, wait, wait,” he spluttered, holding up a hand. The elder trollhunter paused, peering at him with pursed lips. “Sorry, what? I, uh- I kinda blanked out there a bit. Sorry,” he repeated, desperately ignoring the slight embarrassed crack in his voice.

Draal titled closer to whisper in his ear, or at least as close to a whisper his bombastic friend could manage. “My father was introducing you to Heliosa the Harbinger.” He gestured towards the soul still hovering between them, its inner light pulsing at a heartbeat’s pace.

“Oh!” Distantly wondering if there was any way to save this conversation, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. God, he might as hell have stuffed them in his mouth. “Uh- hello. I’m… Jim. Jim Lake Junior. Although you probably all know that already, so-“

Deya bestowed him a thin, pitying smile. “Be aware, she’s become a troll of few words within the past decade or so. Today is quite the rarity.”

“Hence why we’re introducing her,” his immediate predecessor nodded. “She only speaks in verse. You’ll soon grow used to it.”

Heliosa, still manifesting as a burst of spherical energy, began to dance in unpredictable corkscrews around the small gathering. The display left him mesmerized, gaze obediently following the faint trail of her glow like a cat’s paw to a pen light. Once more she spoke, her willowy voice laced with an unquestionable arcane authority:

“I foresaw the choice of Merlin, Knew the Lake of fate’s design, Centuries prior, time predicted Hunter born of humankind. Born of flesh, remade forthright Daylight’s child chained by night By wizard’s magic forged anew To eclipse Darkness with their might.”

The three trolls standing beside him gawked— Deya and Kanjigar in noticeable awe— clearly not expecting such a vocal presence from this trollhunter of old today. However, where their reaction brought pleasant surprise, all he felt was… well, the only way he could think to describe it was as a sort of reverse dread. His brow creased, her prophetic truth leaving him hollow. It stripped him bare, like a pumpkin with all its guts scooped out. With a spoon. He found the mere idea that destiny wove the threads of everything he’d experienced— that despite his many gambles and unpredictable strategies she’d led him by the hand to this very moment unhindered by chance— deeply uncomfortable. If fate really was his master, then… then he must be nothing. A minuscule, predestined knot in life’s tapestry. A mere pawn, his choices be damned.

Not that he ever had one to begin with.

He felt his spectral form collapse into a dense pinprick of light, perhaps to match how tiny he truly felt.

“I- sorry, excuse me,” he breathed, genuinely not knowing if he’d said these words aloud or if they merely existed as an echo within his mind.

Everything revealed since he awoke here suddenly becoming too much for Jim to process at once, he pulled himself away, immediately taking to floating as if second nature. The presence of Draal and all the others grew smaller and smaller as he sank further into the shadows of their metaphysical forge.

Betrayed, by destiny…

Confused.

Alone.

So, so alone.

I have to finish the fight! Alone...

If you walk out that door, you will die!

What choice do I have?

Oh there’s always a choice. Run away, save your skin!

My amulet does not make mistakes…

Despite whatever doubts you may have, it is now bonded to you. This is a mantle you cannot refuse.

I thought you said I had a choice!

I care, I do! I just see the bigger picture...

Your humanity is not enough, you are not enough!

In order for Merlin’s magic to work, something had to be left behind.

...

So what am I, then?

“Jim.”

Ambient noise emanating from the dull thrum of the forge became all but absent at the call. Impossibly stubborn and not desiring visitors in his current state of distress, he shifted his presence further into the shadow.

He was being stupid, he knew. The voice calling was clearly Draal’s. Why the hell was he hiding from Draal? And after all they’d experienced together...

As he tried to evade him, he bumped directly into a solid, warm surface instead. Living stone, life energy pulsing beneath. He felt a hand swipe towards him and he dodged. At this point he genuinely didn’t know if it was out of reflex or because he actually wanted to avoid his friend.

“Jim,” he repeated, stressing his name. “Look at me.”

Even if the only stimuli he could truly intake right now in this form was sound and touch, he swore he sensed the moment he himself pulsed with light, matching the wave of annoyance cresting within his mind.  

“In case you haven’t noticed, I kinda can't do that right now,” he shot back.

“I do not mean-“ Draal sighed, the rough sound betraying his otherwise calm facade and revealing his concern. “Look with your soul, not your eyes.”

Despite his current cynicism towards everything in the universe, he gathered his wits and began to focus in on himself. Soul, not eyes. Soul, not eyes. Puzzling, and infuriating. He had no physical form, how on earth was he supposed to—

Oh. Oh. That’s new, he thought, feeling the slight pricking of another consciousness against his own. The consciousness’ shape intrinsically matched with what he knew of Draal, like how one might recognize someone by scent or the timbre of a voice.

“Ah, so you’ve found it. As you can sense now, we exhibit a different kind of sight here.”

“What… is this?”

“We’re the souls of the dead. How else would souls communicate, without the form granted by the amulet’s binding magic?”

“So. Let me get this straight. Basically, you’re saying the physical Void as I know it only exists through Merlin’s magic?”

He gently hovered beside his presence as Draal paused to consider his next words.

“As far as I’m aware, yes? Do remember,” he said, before Jim could probe for information he apparently didn’t have, “I arrived here mere nights ago. Father has only explained so much.”

“Okay, and about that.”

“About-?”

“You. I- I thought the Void was, y’know. Just for trollhunters. How did you…?”

“It was my father’s doing,” he explained. “At his request the elder trollhunters made an exception for me, against the normal rules. That’s all.”

“Well, I’m glad they did,” Jim said softly. “If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that some rules are worth breaking.”

“Some, yes.”

The troll’s presence pulsed with genuine warmth against his soul’s own. He wondered, if he had capacity for sight right now, if he’d see his friend smiling.

“Now tell me, flesh bag. What distresses you at this hour?”

His heart skipped a beat. Well, if he still had a heart, it would’ve skipped a beat. (Language technicality was going to be the death of him here.) In lieu of working organs, he was pretty sure his soul did about the equivalent.

“I’m fine now, really,” he hastily attempted to cover up.

Draal was absolutely not having it.

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“Wh- what is?”

“Your strange definition of ‘fine.’ You ran away, and then hid in the shadow for twenty minutes.”

“Uh- okay, okay. Fine. Or, or,” he stuttered, “not fine, I mean. Just…. there’s a lot to unpack. That’s all.”

“Are you planning to elaborate, or leaving me to ponder forever?”

Jim lapsed into momentary silence again as he considered. Draal was only wanting to help. He knew this. Also, where once his worry was vulnerability, now he literally had nothing left to lose.

“Well for one,” he eventually began, biting sarcasm coating his words, “I’m dead. I killed myself, and now I’m stuck here with a bunch of- of moody former trollhunters for all of eternity. And then. And then! Apparently, it sounds like every day of my life was bound by some divine destiny, or whatever. And I was fine with that, at first, with the idea of destiny. Because I thought-“ the emotion he’d been stifling began cracking through his level headed facade- “I don’t know! I thought it was something I could control. I thought that the amulet chose me for who I was. For being... special, as stupid and selfish as that sounds. But all of this was prophecy, Draal! It was always meant to happen! So what’s the point in it specifically picking me if I was just a pawn to fate all along? And not only that, but one of my predecessors literally knew Merlin was gonna blindside me with all this half-troll business and do they ever consider giving me, you know, a little heads-up? No!”

“It was only a prophecy.”

“Yeah, well it was a prophecy about me! I would’ve wanted to know. Maybe if I had more time, i-if I had the foreknowledge, could actually think on it before just- God, this was all such a mistake!” he cried. He could sense his spectral form growing cold and dim, only suspended by a single thread.

Draal’s consciousness brushed against his in what might have been his attempt at a metaphysical pat on the back.

“You miss your friends,” he observed.

Jim considered levying him a snarky ‘no duh’ in response, but his soul was too weary for sarcasm right now. Instead, with a little focus and a shimmer of daylight, he manifested himself physically once more and wrapped his arms around the one true friend he had left. He pressed his forehead against his chest.

Draal lowly huffed through his nostrils, slowly returning the embrace. While the fierce troll would never admit it, Jim knew from the hours spent fighting by his side that he cared far more than one might assume. Most of the ‘tough guy’ act he exuded was precisely that: a facade. Draal was actually fairly sentimental, and more soft-hearted than a lot of other trolls he knew. (He’d kept a few knick knacks gifted to him by his father in the basement.) If Jim ever brought it up he’d probably throw him in a headlock, though. Some things never change.

“They won’t ever- they don’t know I’m dead,” he said, words sticking in his throat. “They’ll never know, ‘cause to them I’m not-! I-I… can never see them, ever again.”

“I understand.”

He stood there leaning against his friend in relative silence for a time, his breath shaky as he allowed the rest of the emotion coursing through him like an avalanche to gradually dissipate. Draal didn’t budge an inch, still resolute in his duty to support the trollhunter. The smallest of smiles broke through his anguish at this thought, curving across his face. He was so grateful for that.

“Blinky,” he began, small and hesitant, as he pulled away from their hug. “He always said that destiny… that it’s a gift. Thing is, it really doesn’t feel like one right now.”

“Would you like my input, Trollhunter?”

He met Draal’s eyes, the troll peering into his in such a knowing way that it almost made him squirm. “S-sure. Go wild. I’d take anything at this point.”

“You’ve chosen to define the sum of your life as the destination every action leads you towards. But have you considered that perhaps… what matters isn’t where, but how?”

“I’m not following, sorry.”

“Destiny may guide you, act as a beacon for days to come. But in the moment, you decide how you react to the challenges life throws at you. That choice is yours, and yours alone.”

“Oh, great,” Jim muttered, a sour cynicism corroding his tone. “Helpful. So life may suck, but hey! At least I can approach it with a smile!”

“No. That is not what I mean. What happens in the moment has far more impact than you realize, Jim. Consider me, for instance,” he explained, jabbing a finger solidly against his chest. “You chose to spare my life in our duel. A single life. Do you really think the elders’ vague prophecy could’ve ever predicted a young human having the courage to break entirely from tradition, to forge his own path? I wouldn’t be here right now without your intervention. Your camaraderie, and your friendship. Every action— even the smallest— creates ripples, Trollhunter. Do not be so quick to forget that.”

At this reminder, the hollowing of his chest receded, his anxieties ceasing to eat away at him so quickly. Draal was absolutely right. Even moving through the patterns of fate, he still exhibited a great deal of agency. Even within the framework of a game he didn’t create, he possessed the capacity for free will. His grim assumptions earlier were wrong. He wasn’t somebody’s pawn, he was the hand strategically moving the pawn.

Nevertheless, a pang of melancholy ran cold like a shiver through his bones. At the edge of war, he sure hoped his living counterpart realized this too.

“So… what do we do now?” he said. “Not like, about the battle,” he clarified hastily, “but. Just in general? It’s way too quiet here. I could do with some sparring, or something.”

Mischief glinted in his friend’s eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Blue clashed against blue in a myriad of sparks, the magic that held together their physical forms flickering like television static each time they struck a hit. Jim Lake Jr. grinned as he leapt clear of the latest attack. Draal, compressed into a dense ball and unable to slow himself down, continued rolling up the side of the practice ring and clear into the rafters. Somewhere far above, the troll condensed himself to light and all but dissapeared.

“Hah, missed me!” Jim shouted in triumph, backing a few steps up as he scoped the area. His fingers wrapped ever tighter around the hilt of his sword. “Still one hit ahead of you. Y'know, my offer to play easy is still on the- Whoa!"

He manifested his shield in one hand just as his friend, chuckling boisterously, appeared from thin air and swung a playful punch at him. Even in the Void, the contact shot dull vibrations all the way up his arm.

"Not a chance, novice! Tied!" Draal countered, and immediately tucked himself into a ball again. The rumbles of his movement across the stone reverberated powerfully throughout the vast halls.

“What in the name of-!“  

Uh-oh.

Jim almost regressed back into his spectral state himself right then and there, the surprise of the elder trollhunter's voice merely the cherry on top after Draal's sneak attack. His form flickered as he returned Daylight to its mount on his back.

“Oh, Kanjigar!” he said, plastering an innocent smile on his face. Draal rolled to a stop in between them, looking equally as sheepish. “Are you here to, uh- to spar too?”

The elder trollhunter pressed his palm against the ridge of his forehead. “Am I here to- no! No, of course I am not! We do not wage battle in the harmony of the Void! And Draal, you too?” he exclaimed, widely gesturing at his son. “Must both of you make a mockery of this sacred space?”

Without so much as a second thought, Draal pointed at Jim. “It was his idea.”

“Hey, excuse me!” he hissed at him under his breath, embarrassment growing evident in his posture. That rat! He bailed him out, and in front of one of the greatest trollhunters to live, no less. Still, Kanjigar  was  his father, (and Jim couldn’t imagine ever lying to Blinky, himself), so he supposed he’d have to excuse the betrayal. He sighed deeply, and leveled his gaze towards the great troll with a demeanor of assured confidence only a fellow trollhunter would ever dare summon. “With respect, I’ve only been here for like, barely an hour, if that, and I’m already dying of boredom.”

Kanjigar blinked, utterly failing to capture the deeper meaning of his words. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. By all measures you’ve already died, Jim.

“I know that I’m-“ he groaned, carding his fingers through his hair. “Never mind, it’s- it’s just a figure of speech. My point is, I’m not gonna just float about the ether and armchair quarterback every single little fight my other self has like you, okay? I- I need something to do. Something that won’t be stressful as hell."

"What, like sparring? Sparring is not customary here."

"Why?"

Draal huffed in annoyance, and began to hollowly recite words his father had likely imparted when he first arrived. "Because the Void is a peaceful domain wherein trollhunters should seek the calming pursuits they never had opportunity to give thought to in life. Supposedly."

"We do not wage battle because our lives were a battle, young trollhunter," Kanjigar stated simply.

"But that's not fair, it's calming for me!"

He pondered on this fact as the words passed his lips, upon reflection surprised at how accurate they were. He'd actually grown to look forward to his training sessions with Blinky or Draal, back before the loss of Trollmarket. They were routine, ever-evolving, and functioned as wonderful stress relief. Many a day he'd spent letting his frustrations out on the forge machinery after a bad Spanish or algebra exam.

“Wow," he said under his breath, mostly to himself. "That's actually true, it really is. Huh. Crazy how much can change in a few months. But!" He lifts a finger for emphasis, talking directly to the others once more. "As I was saying."

"Yes, do continue," Kanjigar said, peering between him and Draal with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms, thoroughly unimpressed.

Jim's hand moved to cover the amulet, hanging directly over the space his heart once occupied. He glossed his thumb across its rim. "I guess... the crux of the matter is, certain customs of the troll world had to change when the amulet picked a human. And now, with part of me dead, it’s the Void’s turn. I'll keep my distance from everyone else while sparring for courtesy's sake, but for the record, it makes me happy. I don't aim to stop."

And with that bold statement, he let his armor fade into light. The expression of dumfounded shock that crossed that old troll's stony face in response was almost enough to make him audibly bark in laughter for the first time today. He pocketed the amulet, and walked past his elder.

"You coming?" he said, gesturing to Draal. "I thought I'd explore around a bit more."

"Count me in."

“I heard you shouting in the distance. Tell me- what did I miss?” Deya asked as Kanjigar returned to the others.

“Nothing important,” he groused. “Only Lake and my son desecrating every rule they happen to lay their eyes on.”

She tilt her head at him, in a matter-of-fact sort of way. The knowing smile she presented— top row of sharpened, squarish teeth showing between her lips— whisked him back to the time when he the foolish youth called by the amulet, and she was one of his elders. Long, long ago.

“They’re sparring, aren’t they?”

“Exactly! And as dictated, the Void is a place of eternal peace. A peace that currently, they’re uprooting by way of their irresponsible foolishness!”  

Deya’s laugh rang out as clear as a bell. “Oh, lighten up, you old misery,” she teased, swinging a punch at Kanjigar’s shoulder. “To hell with the rules. It's perfectly harmless, sparing here. Let the youth have their fun.”

[eravici]

VLD // Five Times

Title: Chapter 4 - The Fourth Embrace Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keith x Pidge | Katie Holt Rating: Explicit Chapters: 4/5 A/N: Arachnophobia Summary: Fourth.

ao3.

The fourth time was when she lost Keith.

Pidge was starting to become numb to the entirety of the battles they have fought in. Even if it wasn't the Galra, there was another that would appear to try and usurp the power that came from the vacuum of power. The emptiness of power that was attempted by those that was once in Zarkon's command, the very people he commanded with sheer fear rather than the respect and pride that Hunk had learned from his time with the governess of Lotor.

This time, with the Galra gone, another had taken its place.

Another older and ancient race that exceeded perhaps even that of Zarkon and the legion of the Galra Empire. Their forces were just as mighty, their fighting prowess lethal, and their strength was overwhelming. They were unlike the Galra and used abilities that no one had ever seen before.

After all, the universe was millions and millions of years old, and the inner intellectual in her understood that the entire universe was only as big as she knew it could be.

The task was to find out more information of this force that was consuming the universe as they knew it. More terrifying than the Galra Empire, this destructive force was taking life wherever it touched. Like a plague, it continued to eat and devour worlds and planets as though it was a mere appetizer without any consideration to the life that resided there.

They took life without the thought of its repercussions.

But what was once a mission that would give them more information on the enigmatic force of death, turned deadly when they knew they were coming. Even for Voltron, who was the defender of the universe, struggled against such a power that they needed to find out who and what they are. Maybe even a weakness, anything, if it meant that they would gain some footing to be level with them.

Once more, they were the universe's last hope if they stood a chance of survival.

"Alright, everyone ready?" Keith spoke into the comms.

"Ready," Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Allura responded.

They had to leave behind their ship for the sake of a more covert mission. It was a gamble, but they just needed something for Voltron to look over if they wanted to understand the new enemy's motives. Their lions flew in low and quick, silently approaching the seemingly silent base that was on the outskirts of the perimeter of their dominion.

"Pidge?"

"There's nothing on my sensors," Pidge replied, using her systems on her Lion to check the interior of the strange and foreboding space station of black spires and low glowing red lights. "It's strange… it's almost as if it's deserted."

"There's no way they would leave this place unguarded," Allura remarked apprehensively. "It looks well maintained."

"Yeah, why would they would they make a base out here if they have no intentions of coming back?" Hunk commented.

"I don't like this," Lance said warily. "Something feels wrong."

"I don't like this either, but we have no choice." Keith sounded frustrated. "As much as I want to say that we can find another way to find more information about the enemy, we can't. We've already tried—this is our only option left, and we've been watching this station for weeks."

"And there's been no activity…" Lance sighed. "I know, I know."

"None of us like this," Allura said soothingly. "But, let's just get this over with."

"Let's go." Keith led Black into the station, and the other Lions shot off in different directions in pairs. "Pidge, with me."

Old habits die hard, and the pair went into the station with unease.

But, thanks to Shiro's and Coran's relentless observations and watches on the station, there were no guards posted as they had reported. Readying their Bayards, they entered the station. Cosmo followed closely by Keith's heel.

"Keith and Pidge, in," Pidge reported.

"Hunk and Lance, in," Hunk reported just shortly after.

"Allura?" Lance called.

"Here, I just entered," she responded. "We're only in a few moments, and it already feels as though Coran's and Shiro's reports are right—this place is deserted."

"Either way, keep your guard up and the comms open," Keith commanded. He clipped the Bayard to his hip and Pidge followed after.

"Roger."

Silence fell as they began to investigate the eerily quiet station.

Through each empty and darkened corridor they went through, Pidge could feel the sweat perspiring. The silence was deafening, and the tension was so thick that she could cut it with her Bayard. The corridors were misshapen, sharp, and from what she had only seen in her books, stylized like a cave with jagged edges that bordered on gothic. Where the Galra had a dim accent lighting of violet, this place had black walls, ceilings, and floors that the only light there was the thin strip of dark blue along where the floor and wall met.

At one point, Cosmo bumped reassuringly into Pidge's leg. With a quiet sigh, scratched behind his ear in appreciation. She hadn't realized how tense she was becoming.

If it weren't for their helmets, Pidge knew that she would be smelling something bordering on humidity mixed with the sharp cold of what this darkness had.

"Man, this place is creepy," Lance said aloud, startling Pidge from her thoughts.

"Lance," Hunk admonished. "You scared me." He sighed.

"Sorry, but even the Galra wasn't this—this—"

"Dark," Pidge finished for him. "It's like those horror movies we used to watch back at the Garrison, only, this isn't a horror movie—this is real life."

"Horror movie?" Allura piped in. "What are those?"

"Guys, focus," Keith interjected. "We can talk later when we're safe and out of here."

There was an uneasy silence that followed as they silently obeyed Keith's command.

Pidge had lost count of how many halls they had gone through, looking for any room that would allow them to find any terminal that would give Pidge access to their network. It took another ten minutes before Allura spoke up.

"Guys, I found something."

"We're on our way," Keith responded. He turned to Pidge, and they exchanged a grim glance. Heading to Allura's location, they entered a room that looked oval, like an egg, with an eerie low dim green light along the floors and the systems ahead of them.

Pidge made her way over and pulled out her laptop. Unlike the Galra, where Keith would've aided in using his genes to give them access, this empire had no such thing. So she had to give it a try herself. Only, she paused for a moment before she realized what she was staring at on the screen.

"Guys," Pidge called to their attention when they all had wandered off to investigate the room. She turned to face them. "We're in the middle of a spider web."

The entirety of the screen zoomed out to show the strange networked corridors that all led and pointed to where they stood.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hunk asked, even though she could see the look in his eyes that said something else.

She turned away before she could understand it and bravely plugged in the little computer she had brought with her. A strange and foreign text popped up on screen and using whatever Altean tech she had to decipher the language, she sighed in aggravation. "The language isn't known to the Alteans so we might take a while to figure this out."

And then a massive boom echoed throughout the halls that it reverberated to where they stood. It was enough that they felt it through through their boots. They all snapped their heads to the only open door that led out to the web of halls. Cosmo growled and readied for a fight.

"What was that?" Lance readied his Bayard.

"Not good, whatever it is," Allura tightly gripped her own, "it's big, and it sounds like it's coming for us."

"Lance, stay here and give Pidge backup. Hunk, Allura, and I will go and see if we can find out whatever made that noise." Keith looked resolutely toward the dark shadows.

Pidge tensed.

Again, that feeling, one she hadn't felt since her time back on the Galra ship when they had to rescue Shiro, came back. Viciously lashing through her like a sharp dagger at her stomach and chest, she stilled and slowly turned to where Keith stood.

"Keith—"

"Is that understood?" he asked.

Everyone but Pidge responded. When Keith turned to face Pidge and ask if she had heard his command, she couldn't stop the shaking of her hands. Something worse was going to happen, and she couldn't prevent the feeling from overwhelming her.

"Pidge?" Keith called softly.

Another boom echoed in the halls outside of their terminal room.

She clenched her fist, resolving herself to fight off the feeling. Instead, she said, lifting her gaze from her computer to look with worry and a silent request. "Please, come back safe."

There was a flash of a crooked smile and the nod. "I will. We will." And then his smile was gone just like he was.

Pidge wished that her gut feeling wasn't right.

"Pidge, what was that?" Lance softly asked while she typed algorithm after algorithm in an attempt to hack this terminal.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about."

"Look," Lance started, positioning himself just by the door, "I know something's changed between you and Keith—you guys have something different from anything I've seen before. But what just happened? Just now? That wasn't just asking for him to come back—that was a promise for him to return to you."

Pidge didn't reply. Trying to focus on the task at hand, she couldn't ignore that day when Keith had kissed her to distract her from her hysterical fear of never finding her father. She couldn't ignore or forget the reassurance he gave her after the mission where Shiro had briefly disappeared.

She couldn't.

But they never did anything more beyond those moments where they just needed each other. The words that they both felt they could not convey, they conveyed it through their body language. A silent way of holding each other close so that they wouldn't break. And from that, her love from him was born and had only grown since then.

She closed her eyes and reopened them. Aware that the conversation was spoken into their comms, she didn't want this to be the way for her to convey her feelings to Keith. It was too public, too wrong of a place, and a terrible way of saying something that was only positive. She wanted to see the smile on his face and the way he would laugh in embarrassment in a place where they were both safe.

Pidge took a deep breath. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Pidge, how long?"

"This isn't the time for it."

"It's damn right the best time for it," Lance snapped. "Pidge, we're at the near end of the universe, and we're fighting in a losing war. You honestly don't think that this is a good time for you and Keith to confess if you love each other? You too, Keith! You and Pidge both! I know you can hear me. At any moment, we could all go down, and we might die, and you'll end up with regrets."

And then, there was only silence.

Immediately right after, alarms rang throughout the quiet station as red lights blared. A voice spoke through its intercoms, indiscernible, and Pidge's screen lit up with a mass of red dots that told her of enemies. They were converging on both her and Lance's positions and where the others were.

Lance began to fire at the incoming enemies, and Pidge tried to accelerate her work and was typing as fast as she could. As her fingers flew over the keyboard, she could hear Lance beginning to fire his Bayard at a rapidly increasing rate that she knew she needed this data now. Trying to ignore the background noise as she focused on the program, she was breathless when her computer program managed to copy the entirety of their terminal with no difficulty.

To hell with its foreign language!

"Pidge!"

"Got it!"

"Good, now some backup down here would be appreciated!" Hunk shouted into the comms.

Lance managed to clear a path with the Altean longsword when he needed to go faster, words she could hear him faintly saying through their mental connection as paladins.

Faster, we need to go faster, were the thoughts he exuded. We have to hurry!

No.

Lance couldn't have the same gut feeling like she was having, could he?

It couldn't be.

"We're on our way!" Pidge could barely respond as they began to beat their way through the horde of enemies that they could only vaguely see in the dark corridors. She didn't think and solely focused on taking enemy after enemy down. Enemies she had never seen beyond the shadows, she had a vague idea of what they looked like but didn't dare to have her thoughts linger.

But she knew they were a nightmare come true.

They fought their way up to where the four of them were, Pidge monitoring them to notice that they were trying to make their escape. They managed to get to the hangar, or what looked like one, and the three of them were back-to-back. Cosmo took down the shadows in his jaws and continued to aid them the best he could. They were shouting something, words she couldn't hear with widening eyes, as they tried to fight off the sprawling mass of darkness that surrounded them.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep and ragged breath to focus, she looked through her Lion's eyes and began to fire on the Station. It was enough of a distraction that a good portion of the strange blackness to part from fighting their friends. The station shook that Pidge came back from fighting as her Lion and jumped down to the platform that their friends stood on.

She noticed after a moment that all of her friends were speaking, but none of their words was being heard. Judging from the looks on their faces, they realized the same thing. While relieved that they were no longer separated, they were without any way to communicate.

The same boom that had reverberated throughout the station came terrifyingly close, and they shot their gazes to a figure that was stood haunched forward on several legs.

But what scared her was the disturbing cracking noises that came from its body as it began to stand upright. Taller than Shiro, taller than Zarkon, Pidge realized that this lanky figure of a thing was more towering than anything they had ever seen before. There was no face, no discerning of their arms or legs—only shadows aside from the subtle shape of a what might be ahead.

It jumped over the railing and landed in front of them, scaring the rest of the shadows away.

"Will you continue to sin and fight against us or will you join us and cleanse yourselves of your impurities?" it asked in a distorted voice that sounded like many overlayed on top of one another.

For the briefest of moments, Pidge was able to hear Keith and Allura speak into their comms, and in turn, for the enemy to listen to them.

"No, we won't join you and we never will," Keith stated. "You destroy worlds without consideration to any of the life on any of them."

"You are a monster for doing what you do," Allura managed to say. "You are even worse than the Galra."

"Then you shall die."

It lunged at them—its long arms appearing and reaching out with its shadowy and spidery fingers and trapping them in its grasp. Lance fired his Bayard and Keith tried to cut himself free.

Pidge rolled out of the way, losing focus on the rest of her team as she tried to dodge its growing number of arms that appeared from its back. With each attempt to try and hit them with its sharp and pointed end, it dug through the surface of their station like it was butter. She could barely register the sounds of Keith and Allura parrying with their weapons that made her relieved to hear that the Altean technology could withstand this creature's attacks.

Thanks to her consistent training alongside the other paladins, she was able to parry some of the blows that would've been too close. With narrowed eyes, she smashed her bayard into one of its many arms when Lance had managed to land a hard enough hit that it made a grotesque sound mixed with the deep screams of a creature that was bigger than this one appeared. Deep, wheezy, and disconcerting with how it screeched, Pidge winced.

Another howl of pain and its arms lashed out, twirling around them that it smashed against all of the paladins and Cosmo to slam them into the nearest wall. Pidge slid to the ground with a groan, her arms, and legs shaky from the amount of dodging and parrying she had been doing for the last few minutes. Trying to push herself up on her arms, they gave out before she could, and all she could do was shift her head to look at where the enemy was.

Again, her eyes grew wide when it slowly approached her.

There was a garble of noise in her ears, but she couldn't hear it.

This shadowy figured loomed close to her, and spider-like arms appeared once more from its back and aimed it at her.

And then it roared out in pain and turned to Keith, barely standing and with a Marmora blade wedged into its back. It shifted from its more substantial form and back into its smaller form that it slid out of it and dropped to the ground. With narrowed eyes that irises that dilated to slits, Pidge could barely speak to try to get Keith to stop and to run.

His sclera bled yellow as he dashed toward it, sliding on the ground around the creature to pick up the fallen dagger and swing at the beast again in light of purple.

Standing between her and the creature, she could make out his words.

"Leave her alone!"

Tears burned her eyes, helplessly watching as he fought the creature with all of his power, and watching as his body became slowly more beat up as time progressed. Every time he dodged one, he'd be hit by another arm in a relentless stream of attacks.

It only lasted a few moments too long before the creature had a successful opening.

With a sickening crunch, she screamed with tears rolling down her cheeks when she watched one of its arms plunge deep into Keith's abdomen.

He instantly dropped to the ground, unresponsive and everything that happened after that was a blur.

Hunk and Lance had managed to sneak in their attacks while the creature was distracted by Keith and with Allura's aid, came out—just barely—victorious.

But was it a victory when their leader was down?

The dark mass had faded and left only them in the hangar. Pidge could remember Allura shouting that they needed to get back to the ship, back to where they could treat him immediately upon arriving there. All she remembered was clutching Keith's body to her, in her arms, sobbing as her tears fell on his pale face.

"Please wake up," she sobbed while she bowed her head close to him. "Please, you promised. You promised you'd come back to me. Please, Keith, please."

With what immediate aid they could give Keith what supplies they had, they began to make their way back. In the cargo of the Black Lion, Pidge stayed beside him while he rested in the healing pod that they had managed to take with them.

He was dying.

Only, her screams became silent when they underwent another attack, and she needed to be in Green to fight back. Somehow, they had lost their grip on the Black Lion, and they were floating away from them. Just in time for the enemy ship to fire upon it and it exploded in a flash of light, and he was gone.

[occasionalfics]

The One to Stay, 1 (Thor x Reader)

general masterlist | tots masterlist

Summary: To capture a kingdom, you wait until they’re at their lowest point. Maybe it’s not your best choice, but it’s the most strategic.

A/N: I feel like I’ve been talking a lot about this, but it’s finally here! So yeah I mentioned in at least one other post that this is gonna have a sequel and I’ve already started on that! I don’t think it’ll be quite as long (this is...almost 90 google doc pages itself), but I’ve got big plans. Warnings: mild violence, some explicit language.

Tags: @thewayilookatbacon @mysweetcookie99 @httpmcrvel (send me a message if you want to be added! please specify if you want to be added to this story, or as a global tag!)

Words: 4,196

Your father wanted Asgard. Everyone did at some point, but your father saw an opportunity and wanted you to take it for him. He was old and decrepit, sitting on a throne that he could hardly leave without assistance. You, on the other hand, were young, lively, and skilled in battle. And you were his only living heir - all others had died or been killed off, or married into thrones on other planets and inherited other kingdoms while your ancient father refused to die or be killed himself.

You weren’t particularly fond of your father, but you never let him see as much. If you were the only heir that wasn’t too impatient to wait for the throne or too stupid to die before you could inherit it yourself, you could hide your disdain for the man who helped bring you into the world. You would do what he bid, so long as it put you in his good favor. So if he said he wanted Asgard, you would give it to him.

Somehow, you convinced yourself that this meant he would willingly give you the throne, whenever he thought you were ready to take it. You’d talked yourself into believing that none of your older siblings were right for the job. That was why your father had never given the throne to them, you thought. You were different, though. You’d show him that he could trust the crown would be safe in your hands.

You often asked yourself why you didn’t simply kill your father yourself. But when you thought about doing it, you realized that it wasn’t your father that kept you from doing the deed. You were scared of the repercussions. Patricide wouldn’t be taken lightly on a small planet like yours. You wouldn’t last a week on the throne if your subjects didn’t trust you. And besides, you were the youngest of your many, many siblings. Some of your older ones died trying to kill their father - either by your father himself, his guards, or the people your father ruled over. See, he wasn’t a malevolent ruler (or he hadn’t been), just a terrible father.

Still, he wanted Asgard. And because you’d learned from the mistakes of your family, you would be the one to give it to him. Personally. He didn’t care if you brought it with the King dead or alive, which meant you had some choice in the matter.

You waited as long as you could - long enough, even, that your father had started mocking you at court. He’d started saying that you would never do as he asked, that you were disobedient and a liar. But you were being tactful, waiting for a moment of weakness to pounce. You were a highly trained Warrior Princess, but you also knew your army was small. Formidable, but low in number. So you let Hela, Goddess of Death, do most of the work for you. When she was done with, you rallied your troops and met Asgard as it stood in a single ship, its King looking out into the vast vacuum of Space, watching carefully as you came into view with an army behind you.

As you’d planned, stealing command of their ship and threatening their very lives was as easy as knocking the Gatekeeper unconscious, tying up the Trickster God, losing a few dispensable troops to the Hulk, and holding off the Valkyrie with four of your trusted swordsmen. The last two weren’t exactly easy, but you’d managed. Your personal part, however, consisted of hand-to-hand combat with a weary, weakened, one-eyed Thunder God. He got a few good shocks into you, but he underestimated you, too. You were able to catch him off guard long enough to wrap your fingers around his bulky neck and squeeze.

It didn’t bring you joy to see him - or anyone, for that matter - like that. But it was what your father wanted. It was what you needed to give him to watch him step down from the throne. You didn’t plan on killing the Thunder God King; you wanted him in your court, truth be told. You didn’t need Asgard like your father said he did, but who would it hurt by having them?

“I know you’ve suffered quite a loss, Thunder God,” you said, glaring at his ragged, though still sculpted and beautiful face. “And yet, I must take more.”

He gasped for air, his single iris blown out in what you assumed was surprise a your strength. You couldn’t blame him; you were much smaller than he was, and yet, he could not wrestle his freedom from your grip.

“But because you’ve lost so much,” you said, pulling him closer to you, “I am prepared to show some semblance of mercy.” You loosened your hold just a bit - not enough for his deprived fingers to pry you from him, but enough to allow more oxygen into his body.

“Please,” he gasped, gritting his teeth between his words. “Spare them.”

“Spare whom, Thunder God?” you asked.

He coughed before answering, “Asgard.”

A thought occurred to you, then. You glanced just over his shoulder, past your long arm and curved fingers against his golden skin. Behind him, beyond the fighting, was a large crowd huddling together, surrounded by whatever army Asgard had left to defend them. They were citizens, just like those on your planet. There were children, dirty and tiny with cuts and bruises. There were screaming women and men shielding their families from the destruction happening around them. They were people - they were Asgard.

Your father wanted Asgard, and now you had it to give to him.

You looked at the Thunder God once more, your fingers loosening more. You even let him fall to the ground, desperately pulling in air to fill his lungs once more. If you were truly evil, as you were sure he believed you were - as his people believed you were - you would’ve mocked him for being weak.

But, alas, you were the Goddess of both War and Mercy. Somehow, they went hand-in-hand, perhaps because one was often fought over life and the other spared it. So instead of mockery, you kneeled before the Thunder God, gently putting your hand on his chin before he pushed it away with a force that should have knocked you over. It didn’t. Goddess of War and all that.

“Relinquish your rule of Asgard to me, Thunder God,” you said. “They will be spared. You may be, as well. Give me Asgard, and you will all live.”

He glared at you with enough passion to burn you, if his eye could do so much. You swore you saw a flash of light give a warning in his pupil, but he said nothing of it, so neither did you.

“Odinson,” you whispered, “it gives me no pleasure to see you and your people like this. I wish we’d met under other circumstances, but that’s not the case.” You looked at his people once more, hoping he would see the gesture and know you were being sincere. “If you want your people to thrive, you will give them to me.”

He seemed to contemplate this. He looked around the ship, though he did not attempt to stand, and saw the destruction he was allowing to take place on his ship, in front of and for his Asgardian people.

“The Gatekeeper will find useful employment,” you said. “Your citizens will have more fulfilling lives than you can give them on a ship.” When he slowly turned back to you, still breathing heavily, you tilted your head and said, “I’m giving you exactly what you want, Thunder God.”

“What do you know of what I want?” he asked, practically spitting at you with the vitriol of his entire people.

You nodded, but were otherwise unphased. “Perhaps I don’t,” you said. “But as King, would you not like to see your subjects happily living normal lives? Perhaps not as refugees?”

The dark tint to his blue eye did not change. Clearly, he didn’t like what you were offering, but you knew as well as he that he had no better option except to search for a place to leave his people on his own. A solution to his wandering problem was presented, though maybe not in the way he would’ve liked. It wasn’t even the way you would’ve liked, but it was how you went about the business anyway.

“I’m cutting out much of your own work for you, Thunder God. Give them to me. Come and serve in my court-”

“As what? Jester?” he asked, still spitting.

“You’re wasting time,” you said in a flat tone. “We’ll discuss your place in all of this later, should you comply. Give me your people, and give them a chance to live.”

The Hulk picked up four of your men as if they were nothing, and threw them into a wall not too far off from the group of huddled masses. Thor watched it all, turning to see better. You slowly stood, bringing your boots to his line of attention.

“So, Thunder God,” you said. He turned back to you, and then you said, “What’ll it be?”

His glare soured, his fingers twitched with lightning, and he answered through his teeth: “Fine. I relinquish my rule of Asgard to you, Goddess of War.”

You bent at the waist, looked him straight in the eye, and smiled as you told him, “And Mercy.”

You stood before the doors to the throne room. The Thunder God, the Trickster God, the Valkyrie, and the Hulk, now subdued and bound to one another by reinforced chains, stood in a line behind you. Behind them were four armed guards you’d ordered to make sure the group followed you.

This was not the way you wanted to conduct this business. You wanted the Thunder God to trust your word, that you would be merciful - that you were the Goddess of Mercy, to begin - and that you would care for his people. He’d gotten a small peek at your own people, thriving and lively and welcoming, and yet, he was not convinced. You knew the cuffs did not help.

You bit your lip and straightened as the doors opened, then stepped lightly, one foot in front of the other, as you made your way down the aisle towards your ancient father’s throne. He sat, hunched over, glaring with his large, dark eyes. Eyes that looked nothing like yours. You hoped the Thunder God saw that, at least.

“Father,” you said with a bow. “I bring you Thor and Loki Odinsons, the King and Prince of Asgard, as well as their court.”

“Small court,” your father muttered.

“Yes, Your Grace,” you said, mostly ignoring the comment. “But then, Asgard does not require a large court now.”

“There is no Asgard, girl,” your father said.

You smiled at him. “If by that, you mean that Asgard is here now, you are correct.” You turned on your heel, pulled the key to the Thunder God’s cuffs from a pocket on your thigh, and rushed to uncuff him. As you fiddled with the metal, you used your limited abilities to throw your voice at him, whispering, “You must please him if you wish to see Asgard thrive.”

He glared over his shoulder, his expression half-enraged and half-surprised. You weren’t close enough to whisper so clearly to only him, and he knew it. But if you’d leaned in, he would have squirmed, and you wouldn’t have blamed him. Plus, everyone in the room would’ve seen - not excluding your father, who glared even as you took the cuffs off and came back around to stand in front again.

“Your Grace, I’ve done as you bid me. I’ve brought you Asgard, as it stands.” You put a hand back just enough to wave the Thunder God on. He seemed to at least pick up on the gesture, and came to stand beside you, his arms crossed against his broad chest now.

“You’ve brought me a broken, lost people, Daughter,” your father said, his voice gravelly and sparse. Still, somehow, he filled the room with his command. “You brought me refugees.”

“My people were promised peaceful shelter,” Thor said from beside you.

You froze, tensing up in what could only be described as a completely noticeable move.

Your father looked from you to the Thunder God and asked, “Oh? Tell me, Odinson, under what terms?”

Thor threw you a sidelong glance, never changing his position as his brows furrowed. “That I must surrender them to you, as well as, I assume, the title of King of Asgard.”

Your father gave a single loud chuckle and shook his head. He shut his eyes, dropped his head a few inches, and continued to laugh. Thor turned his gaze to you, a question lingering in his single blue eye. You were still frozen in place, practically unable to meet his stare in the presence of your father this way.

“That title means nothing,” your father said. He’d glanced back at you by then, and his laughter had died. “I told you to bring me Asgard a year ago, Daughter, and you pilfered your troops, time, and my patience.”

“I was waiting for an opportune moment-”

“You were waiting for a Golden Invitation, I understand,” he said, holding a hand up. He nodded, but you didn’t trust the gesture. You knew your father too well to think he wasn’t about to snap. “But as your King, my command is your Golden Invitation. You let Asgard go in its prime, and now it means nothing to me.”

“Odin was still in power a year ago,” you said, standing taller in defense of yourself. “Of course I wouldn’t have been able to claim Asgard for you!”

“Um, actually,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around to see that Loki had leaned forward to speak to you, but he wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise.

“Silence!” your father yelled, now glaring the light out of the Trickster God’s eyes.

Loki stood with his mouth hanging open, staring back at your father. You turned around again, letting some thick strands of hair fall in your face to hide behind. You felt your face go cold in a nervous flush, and you balled your fists to try to get ahold of yourself.

“My father was in Norway a year ago,” Thor said, his voice just as demanding of your attention as your father’s. “My brother had sent him, unwillingly, to Midgard, where he died.”

Your father seemed to contemplate that information. He watched Thor carefully, the way he watched anyone accused of treason, on the occasion he was required to act as judge and jury. “So then, Odinson, who ruled Asgard in the interim?” he asked.

“I did,” Loki said, and when you turned back to him, he was standing tall once more. “I disguised myself as Odin and ruled in his stead.”

Your father seemed to smirk - or he conjured what could only be called a smirk on his wrinkled, ancient face, and gave another small chuckle. “Clever,” he muttered. “But that means my Daughter should have invaded much earlier than she did, as I’ve been saying.” His stare made its way back to you, and you had to fight your instincts to keep from backing down.

“To be fair,” Loki continued, “most of Asgard didn’t know I’d taken over. I’m quite a good impersonator, if I do say so myself.”

Thor turned around and hushed his brother, then faced your father once more. “I ended his rouse just before Odin ascended to Valhalla. And, as his heir, I am King.”

Your father sat forward in his throne, pushing himself slowly to the edge of the seat as he continued to lean out. You thought he might stand, but he didn’t. He glared, his eyes so bright you thought he might ignite Thor’s tunic, despite it being thick leather. “You are King of nothing, Odinson,” he said. “King of Travelers, Refugees, and Tricksters.”

Thor dropped his arms to his sides. You could just barely see the redness in his neck rise, but you didn’t dare focus on him entirely. Your father was just as sly as Loki fancied himself, you knew. You had to keep your eyes on him for your plan to work.

“Your Kingdom is no good to me,” your father spat. “My Daughter has offered services she has no place in giving. She is far too late on delivering what’s been asked of her, and her word means nothing.”

You were tired of hearing him speak, but you knew all too well what would happen if you stepped forward and tried to stop him. He’d likely disintegrate you, or something along those lines. You’d seen it happen before, to a brother you hardly knew. Being a ruler for so long meant your father would tolerate absolutely no derision or discord.

You bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood, but stood your ground anyway.

“What would you make of us, then?” Thor asked, his body like a boulder as he stood tall and heated beside you.

Your father smirked, pushed himself back into his seat, and shrugged. “You are not many,” he said. Your eyes widened before he went on with: “It won’t be hard for us to rid ourselves of the Asgardian trash.”

Thor lunged, and immediately four guards pounced on him, holding him back with all their might. His fingers glowed, as did his eye, with the might of the lightning he wielded. You shook your head, your heart racing now. Maybe you couldn’t go up against your father yourself, but you could at least try to follow through on your promises to Thor.

“Father, please,” you yelled, moving around the guards to approach the throne. More guards pushed past the crowd around you, but they stayed back. “These people are without home. They are scholars and merchants and soldiers. They contribute to society - but they need a society to thrive in. How could you turn your back on them?”

Even sitting, he seemed to tower over you, as if he’d made himself larger in an instant. “I am not turning my back on them,” he said. “I’m turning my back on you. After all, you brought the rabble in.” He looked at Thor as he said, “Perhaps I should dispose of you, too, Daughter. You’ve proven to be...quite ineffective.”

You’d heard him say something to that effect to a sister of yours decades before. She disappeared in the night, only to turn up in the sewers a week later, her neck slashed and many of her bones broken needlessly.

You took a step back and desperately grabbed for anything that might save you. “Your Grace,” you said. “What if…” You looked over your shoulder and saw you’d moved back closer to Thor than you’d meant. He was still bound by the guards, his face a hard stone of rage as he looked from you to your father. You hadn’t brought him here for this. You’d wanted to offer him peace - to offer his people a chance to live. You’d wanted him to join the court… And that might be the thought that saved you.

“What if the Odinsons joined our court,” you said, turning back to your father.

He rose an eyebrow at you, but not in any sign malice. “What benefit does that offer me?” he asked.

“It gives you command of their armies, who defeated Hela and escaped Ragnarök,” you said. You stepped forward once more, a sudden surge of courage overtaking you with your next words. “It gives you what you asked for: you rule Asgard if the King and Prince hold positions equal to mine. And,” you stopped just before the first step to his dias, smiling now, though you did admit to yourself that it felt odd. “The Nine Realms will see you as the King that accepted the downtrodden people of Asgard into his keeping. You’ll be revered for your generosity and feared for your military prowess. Is that not what you were seeking when you gave me the quest to bring you Asgard in the first place?”

He propped himself on one elbow and seemed to think. The room went silent - even Thor stopped thrashing in the grasp of the guards as your father contemplated. He took his sweet time, and during that span, you made a mental note to meet with the new Asgardian members of the court in absolute secret later.

You had plans, and your father was giving you time to work them out, even if he didn’t know it. Maybe he did. Maybe he expected you to plot against him. You were going to have to be compliant and stealthy. You needed spies and resources, secret means of communications and-

He nodded. “The Asgardian refugees may stay, if their King relinquishes his power to me by joining my court. I’ll decide how much power to attribute to him over time,” your father said. You heard Thor grunt behind you, and the armor of the guards rustle, but you refused to turn until your father dismissed you. There had to be a catch, you knew. There was always a catch. “Until such time, however,” he said, looking down at you. “You, Daughter, are responsible for our new...guests. Their actions will reflect on you. Is that understood?”

Without hesitation, you said, “Yes. Thank you, Your Grace.”

Before anyone else could offer reasonable doubt or voice their discontent, your father waved you off. “Go. I have important matters to attend to.”

You bowed once again, then turned and ushered the guards to bring your new party back into the corridor. When everyone had exited the throne room and the doors were shut behind you, you turned to one of the guards and said, “Ready my suite. I’ll be hosting our new guests indefinitely.”

“Indefinitely,” you heard Loki mumble.

You looked at him - no, glared at him, then nodded to the guard. He gave orders to the other guards, and then they left you in the hall with just your new Asgardian responsibility.

When you were sure you were as alone as you would get in an open corridor, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the keys to the cuffs three out of four of them were still wearing. You held them out to Thor, who was still red-faced and looked indignantly at you. You waved the keys at him and said, “Release them.”

“I’m not your lackey, girl,” he spat.

You deserved that, and for a second, you just stared at him. But then you sighed, pulled on one of his hands, and put the key in his palm before he had the chance to wretch away from you. “You’re right, Thunder God. You’re my guests, but I get the feeling not a single one of you trust that I’ll actually free you.”

“You’re just scared we’ll beat your ass to a bloody pulp,” the Valkyrie said. Her brows were furrowed into a deep crevice in the center of her forehead.

Thor seemed to ignore her, first going to the Midgardian Hulk to undo his cuffs.

You shrugged. “Perhaps,” you said. “But the thing is...you need me.”

The not-green Hulk threw his head back and laughed. “Right! Good one,” he said. He tapped Thor on the shoulder and said, “This girl’s crazy and hilarious.”

You stared at him as he moved, watching as Thor shrugged the hand from his shoulder before going to the Valkyrie to undo her cuffs next. “I’m...not joking,” you said, placing your hands on your hips subconsciously.

“The thing is, you need us too,” Loki said. He held his hands out for Thor expectantly, but he stared right at you.

“I do,” you said. “In more ways than you know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Thor asked. “And how are we to trust the woman who attacked us in our most desperate hour?”

“We don’t even know her name,” the Hulk said.

“(Y/N),” you offered, glancing at his fleshy, remarkably not-green appearance. Then you focused back on Thor as he came back to stand between you and his cohort. You admired that of him, even if you’d never say so. He protected them when, clearly, they could do the job themselves - after all, they’d all survived Hela. They could survive your father, too, especially if they trusted you. But that would take work. Lots of work.

“You haven’t answer either of my questions,” Thor said. Despite having one eye, his glare was the most intense.

“Not by omission, Thunder God,” you said. “This hallway is not the ideal place for introductions.”

“It never is,” Loki muttered, as if you were meant to understand that. It didn’t seem important, so you let the comment go.

“Is anyone hungry?” you asked.

“Starving,” the Hulk said.

“I’m not eating anything she doesn’t eat first,” the Valkyrie said.

You smirked. “That’s fair. Now, come. Let me show you your new home. First meal’s on me.”

[lilyenderborn]

Soulmate AND enemies name on your wrist. With Lalna, Rythian and one other?

(Sorry this took so long this ended up being 2500 words that I will post to AO3 but first for you)

The names had appeared when he’d stepped through the door.One seemed familiar to him from before the door though the memories werefading. The other he felt he’d read somewhere else. He blinked slightly lookingaround himself tracing the letters on his left wrist slowly before lookingaround. He’d ended up in a small town of some kind.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” He jumped nowseeing the girl next to him.

“Who?”

“Oh I’m Zoeya. Zoeya Proasheck. And you are?” Sheasked smiling at him.

“Uh… D…Duncan?”

“Full name remember?” Zoeya said putting her armsbehind her back.

“Um Duncan Lalna Jones?”  He said more as a question gulping slightly.

“Hmm…” She looked at both her wrists beforeshaking her head. “Nope your neither my heart’s one true love nor mygreatest rival. So I guess you’re pretty average.” She said before puttingher hands on her hips.

“Wait what are you talking about?”

“Oh? You must be really new around here. Why didn’t thereaper who brought you here tell you?” Zoeya asked curiously.

“I wasn’t…I mean… I didn’t pay attention.Excitement of moving and then suddenly I was here.” Duncan mentioned.

“Oh ok well we all have two names visible only toourselves written on our wrists. It’ll either be a first or middle name whichis why I asked. I don’t have a middle name so I’m guessing whoever has my namehas my first or last.” Zoeya explained.

“So, what do they mean?”

“Oh! One name is your soulmate. You know the personyou’re supposed to fall in love with. The other is more like your sworn enemyor rival though the reaper said it may not be that severe they have seen it goterrible and the name never fades even in death so you’ll never know till youmeet them.” Zoeya explained again before waving, “anyway it was nicemeeting you Mr. Lalna”.

He shook his head again looking tracing the lettersL-E-W-I-S slowly on his left wrist before moving to his right and tracingR-Y-T-H-I-A-N. He wondered how the names seemed so familiar to him beforeshaking his head. He needed to gather supplies to settle in.

As the days past he settled and he met others in thevillage. There weren’t many but one caught his curiousity. A Mage. When hefirst met the man he felt a strange pit in his stomach. His name was Rythianand he was one of the names on his wrists.

“Lalna…” He turned to the heavily robed man. Hisfirst name nearly forgotten to even himself now hearing his middle spoken everyday. “We need to speak.”

“Oh no. What did Teep tell you this time?” Duncanasked crossing his arms.

“That you’ve been doing horrible science experimentsout in the desert on monsters. I told you the way of the scientist is a darkpath to follow.” Rythian said moving closer. His voice was firm but gentleas though giving a lecture over again.

“And I told you I’m not trying to stick to one path it’snot fair to limit myself like that.” Duncan said shaking his head.

“Lalna…please for me try to be a more peaceful tothose around us.” Rythian said sighing. Duncan’s head started to feel likeit was starting to split apart. He desperately tried to form the word no as hismind flashed images that made no sense.

A man hooked up to several tubes and wires barely evenconscious as a black substance was pumped into his veins. Several other longblack creatures were suspended in some sort of substance next to the familiarman. A weak voice repeated the phrase, “please…”

His head felt as though it wasn’t going to last much longeras the words finally left him.

“Ok…ok….” As the light came back he realizedhe was on his knees gripping his head behind his right ear. Rythian’s eyes werewide in fear and confusion at what had just happened. He bent down to his levelslowly.

“Lalna?” Rythian asked reaching up before the manpulled away from the touch. “Lalna? What…what happened to you?”

“I…I don’t know.” He said wincing letting hishead go looking at his wrists. “It was like I had to say yes to you. Icouldn’t form any other answer when you asked like that.” There was a longsilence between them before Rythian’s voice piped up.

“Lalna? Are we rivals or soulmates?” Duncan lookedup to see Rythian looking at his own wrists.

“I don’t know. I actually don’t know. I know that Iwant to say soulmate but I don’t like the idea that you can accidentallycontrol me like that. On the other hand, if we are rivals can you promise tonever take it very far?” Duncan whispered.

“I promise.” Rythian said nodding sticking hishand out. Duncan shook it giving a weak smile to the man.

The town would end up getting destroyed in the middle of afight without them knowing who was whose name. Duncan received a letter shortlyafter moving about a job offer to be the technician of some factory. He vaguelyknew of his employers as heroes from a distant land that wanted to retire fromheroic work.

As he walked up to the meeting place his head throbbedslightly reminding him of his last talk with Rythian. A dwarf was happilychatting with a taller man.

“Eh hey you the tech?” The dwarf spoke up turningto Duncan.

“Uh yeah you Honeydew?” Duncan asked. The man beathis chest proudly.

“That’s me. And this is my best mate, Xeph.” Thetaller man noticeably fidgeted at this introduction.

“Honeydew…I told you I hate that nickname. Why mustyou shorten my last name?” He mentioned. Duncan blinked slightly.

“No matter. It’s Lalna right?” Honeydew askedglancing the man over.

“If you’d like sure. Lalna’s my middle name that justseemed to catch on more than my first.” He said rubbing the back of hishead slightly.

“Ah so you’re in the same predicament that my mate’sin. Everyone just likes the sound of his surname. So exotic…” There wasa soft thud sound as the taller man punched the dwarf in the shoulder.

“Dew….Dew…” The man stammered.

“It’s ok jeez Lewis take a couple deep breaths if youneed. Lalna and I will get started on my grand plan.” Honeydew mentionedgesturing Duncan to follow. Duncan on the other hand had to process the namebefore hurrying after the dwarf. He had already began speaking before callingout to the dazed man.

“Oi! Feels like I’m talking to myself over here.”Honeydew called pausing further ahead.

“Sorry sorry. Just something you said earlier…” Duncansaid running up standing next to him. “It caught me off guard.” Hecontinued rubbing his wrist slightly.

“Something I said?” He thought for a few secondsas though trying to remember.

“About your mate back there.”

“Oh you mean Lewis? He’s a bit odd since giving up thehero life but to be honest he never suited the hero life.” Honeydewmentioned. Duncan opened his mouth to ask more but was stopped by the dwarf.“Now it’s rude of me to of given my mates first name and yet you stillhave yet to give yours.”

“O…oh…oh…” Lalna rubbed the back of hisneck. “It’s Duncan. I guess I just stopped giving it after finding one ofthe names on my wrist.”

“Yeah? How’d that go for ya Dunc?” Honeydew askedglancing back behind them.

“Please don’t call me that. Anyway, he had my middlename on his and it didn’t go bad but he had the ability to control me with asingle word.”

“What word was that, Duncan.” Honeydew said verypoignantly.

“Please.” He said sighing.

“How is that physically possible?"Duncan jumpedhearing the voice behind them.

"Ah welcome back Lewis you feeling better now?”Lewis rubbed his hands nervously.

“Yeah but anyway how can someone control you with asingle word?” Lewis asked seemingly different from before.

“I don’t know. Rythian looked through every magic heknew and came up with nothing.” He said shrugging. Honeydew picked up apick axe handing a blueprint that Duncan had just noticed to the taller manbefore waving.

“I’m going mining for marble and materials. You two canwork out the details been to long since I’ve been in a hole.” He calledwaving over his shoulder.

Lewis blinked opening the paper reading really quick beforehis eyes widened quickly glancing to his arm. He closed it quickly as Duncanpeaked over to see what it was his cheek glowing red.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um uh nothing! Why would you think something iswrong?!” He said quickly. “Say um how do you spell your first name?Honeydew wants to get all our names on here.”

“Oh… Um… D.U.N.C.A.N.” He blinked slightly asthe man seemed to quickly look down again at his arm. Now the red in his cheekswere turning a soft blue color.

“Whoa what the… What’s wrong with you? That’s notnormal!” Duncan said wide eyed. Lewis was already trying to hide his face.

“I…I…” Was all he managed out walkingbackwards before turning running back towards the river. Duncan blinkedslightly confused before jumping.

“Oi dumbass techie what did you do to my bestmate?” The dwarf had reappeared behind him. Duncan clutched his chestlooking to the man whose arms were crossed the pick axe from before leaningagainst his leg.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! By Notch! I didn’t doanything he started to go red and then this blue color.”

“You really aren’t the sharpest tool are youtechie?” Honeydew said shaking his head.

“What do you mean? My full title is Dr. Duncan I’llhave you know.” Duncan said crossing his arms.

“Just because you have the title doesn’t mean you useyour brain that often. Look Lewis isn’t Craftian. He’s not from this thisplanet. He said he’s from a distant planet. So, some things with him are a bitdifferent like the blushing blue thing.”

“Wait why was he blushing?” Duncan asked frowned.Honeydew face palmed slightly.

“You’re on his wrist dummy.”

“Wait what? How do you know that?”

“He told me. His sworn enemy was the ancient evil wefought against called Israphel. The other name was one we didn’t recognize.Until you.”

“Well what about you then?” Duncan asked hidinghis own his wrist his cheeks going red.

“Oh I found both of mine. My soul mate was a lovelylady who lost her life during the fight. And my rival is Lewis.” Honeydewsaid shrugging placing his hands into his pockets looking towards the river.

“Lewis is your rival? But I thought he’s your bestmate.”

“He is but like any mates we butt heads a lot.Sometimes it gets out of hand but we always go back to being friends. You saidyou found one of the names but didn’t know which one it was.”

“Yeah but I don’t want Rythian to be my swornenemy.” Duncan said looking down to his right wrist.

“Even a rival can be a soulmate just in a differentsense.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“Lewis. When my soulmate died in the fight. You don’tget a redo in names and he wanted to try to help me.” He said shaking hishead. “It’s getting dark. Help me set up a sleeping shack. You canapologize to my mate when he gets back.”

He never heard the door to their shack open as he laidstaring at his left wrist. He traced the letters slowly before jumping hearingthe voice next to him.

“Is that one the Mage?” He looked to see the tallman from before.

“Do both of you move without making any noise?”

“Sorry old habits from the fight. We made extra noisearound each other to not scare the other.” He said lowly rubbing the backof his head. Even in the dark Duncan could see the the red creeping back up. Hesighed sitting up in the bed making enough room for him to sit on the edge. Hewatched the man hesitate before obliging.

“So?”

“No no it’s not Rythian’s. I don’t know this person orI guess I feel like I should know.” Duncan shrugged. “It makes myhead hurt.”

“What do you mean?” Lewis asked glancing hearingthe dwarf shift in a bed across from them.

“Um it’s hard to explain. I didn’t get here by a reaperbut I don’t remember how I got here. I feel like when I first read the name Iknew it but then I forgot. I don’t know it sounds stupid.”

“It’s odd but stupid isn’t the word I’d use. Can I seethe name?” Lewis asked before looking away, “if that’s ok with you Imean.”

“See? Zoeya said that only I could see themarkings.” Duncan said blinking.

“Oh right where did Honeydew put my bag?” The mangot up moving to the bed next to him. Duncan watched him rummage for a minutebefore heading back. There was a marker in his hand. “Trace the letterswith this.”

He hesitated at taking the marker spotting the actual namethey’d been speaking of. Lewis deflated slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s just…the name is um…”

“Do…would I know them? Did you tell Honeydew when youwere talking?” Lewis asked quickly but quietly as the dwarf in questiongrunted and shifted.

“Um…yeah…” Duncan said his cheeks starting towarm up. Lewis looked down at his own wrist his cheeks now slowly going red.

“One for one?” Came his voice softer than beforeas though he didn’t want to suggest it.

“You show yours?” Duncan asked his voice squeakingslightly. Lewis nodded in response. Duncan looked down before nodding.

“Ok you trace first and then I’ll trace.” Lewissaid still holding the marker out. Duncan bit his lip slightly before takingsit. Gently tracing the letters L-E-W-I-S still keeping his wrist out of sightof the man.

He handed the marker back and waited patiently for the manto finish. The man studied the newly made marks before nodding to himselfDuncan now realizing there was physical light coming from the man’s eyes.

“Count of three?” Duncan asked and the man noddedslowly. “Ok, One…” He began.

“Two…” Lewis continued slowly.

“Three.” Duncan finished showing his wrist to theman as he matched the movement. Duncan looked over reading the lettersD-U-N-C-A-N. His breathe got caught in his throat.

“Du… Dunc…Dunc…Dunc…” He looked up to seehis cheeks the blue color again. His eyes very bright.

“Whoa…Lewis…um calm please. You’ll wake….”He stopped as the man wrapped his arms around his neck pulling him into a hug.

“Dunc…Dunc…”

“Yeah…I know, or at least now I understand just calmdown ok? We’ll talk better tomorrow.” Duncan said placing his hand on theman’s arm. The man slowly nodded letting him go.

“To…to…”

“Tomorrow.” Duncan said slowly and patiently. Lewisnodded again moving to his own bed.

“And then we can talk properly about all of this.”He added watching the man squirm slightly. He took a deep breath before layingdown. Duncan followed suit taking note of a small chuckle from Honeydew.