#'I am currently taking a break from assassinating political figures but I can start again at any time'

[clonerightsagenda]

Realized I don't think Mei knew Scar was still alive when she left the country which is a bummer since I am very fond of their weird mutual adoption situation. Maybe the trade agreement with Ishval was her one policy contribution before she blissfully abandoned the political sphere to look cute and have a good time.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak​, @dracothulhu​, @thepallaspalace​, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss​.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

[panharmonium]

the other thing that i keep thinking about, especially now that i’ve been knee-deep in conversation about kakashi’s father for the last couple days, is the amount of politically/socially-charged context kakashi must be constantly navigating as a leaf shinobi, even though we don’t get to see much of it.  

the transformation of the hidden leaf village is obviously still a work in progress, and society never changes overnight.  we’ve heard at various points in shippuden about the still-present divide between hardliners like danzo and the (somewhat) more moderate senju line, and it’s clear that there are still plenty of reactionary/conservative forces at work in the shinobi world, which means there are absolutely still segments of the population who would view the kind of challenge that kakashi and his students pose to traditional shinobi values as a threat.  and back when kakashi first chose to reaffirm his father’s principles, i’m sure it was much worse - the way minato tells it, the entire village and the land of fire turned on sakumo, and it’s not like all those people just disappeared when kakashi finally allowed himself to recognize that all of them were doing something wrong.  they were still there.  they were his neighbors.  they were his colleagues.  he had to live with them.  he had to work with them - he had to work FOR them, even.  to this day, he still does.

like.  i am FASCINATED by the complexities of this situation, even though we barely see any of it.  just...thinking about thirteen year-old kakashi being a member of the Jonin Assembly alongside all of these grown adults who persecuted his father until the “great man who everyone looked up to” couldn’t survive it any longer.  thinking about teenage kakashi lost and “waiting to die” in the anbu black ops, but still breaking every rule to rescue little tenzo from a hardline conservative who tried to have kakashi assassinated.  thinking about adult kakashi, still a member of that same Jonin Assembly, still working alongside people he can clearly remember harassing and attacking his father for saving their lives, being asked to serve as a clandestine hokage under danzo’s nose, because foreign nations trust kakashi where they don’t trust the actual nominee, and then being nominated for real when danzo turns up dead (and having his nomination approved, i might add, by the land of fire, whose government officially blamed kakashi’s father for the damage that resulted from that abandoned mission years before).

we only get hints about the lingering controversy surrounding kakashi and his family via danzo and, occasionally, the village elders, but like.  kakashi occupies such a complex place in the hidden leaf village, because he’s become incredibly respected and renowned by many (if not most) of its residents, but he also spends every day of his life moving within a community where many (if not most) of the older people around him participated in a campaign of vicious harassment against his father, one that ultimately led to his death.  some of them may have had changes of heart after sakumo’s suicide - that seems like the kind of thing that might have shocked some people into reevaluating their positions, particularly given how respected sakumo was prior to that time - and some of them probably died later in the war, but we know there’s still a conservative faction active in the hidden leaf village, and some of those people are always going to be who they are.  and even the people who aren’t - even the ones who regret how they acted - it’s still so complicated!  how do you continue to live and work in that environment?  how do you navigate a history of being harmed in that way, when you still have to collaborate with and/or serve the same people who did the harming, some of whom likely view you with the exact same disdain they had for your father?

kakashi manages it, somehow, though i’ll bet he has complicated feelings about it, even if he keeps them to himself.  and that’s yet another reason why (if i can just take these thoughts on a slight detour to the present) i think kakashi’s relationship with sasuke is so vitally important, especially moving forward.  sasuke’s family was wronged by the village too, in horrific, unforgivable ways - the shinobi system swallowed itachi whole and sacrificed the entire uchiha clan on the altar of a mission, in exactly the kind of evil, inhuman decision-making process that sakumo and obito and kakashi said could never be justified.  the uchiha were victims of the same shinobi system that drove kakashi’s father to his death - the one that said “everything is acceptable as long as the task at hand is accomplished.  people are disposable in service to a mission.”  both sasuke and kakashi’s families fell to a cultural context that refused to acknowledge that it is never okay to sacrifice your comrades for a mission, a cultural context that embraced this belief to the point where even literal genocide became excusable.

if sasuke is ever going to really and truly Come Home, he’s going to need to learn how to navigate this situation.  not to excuse the wrong that was done, and certainly not to give up on getting justice for himself and his clan, but also to figure out, in conjunction with these important tasks, how to continue existing in an environment where so much officially-sanctioned harm was done to his person, and where so many people around him have at least a little bit of history of being suspicious of or uncharitable towards the uchiha clan, even though they obviously didn’t know about the impending coup or danzo’s extermination order.  

it’s an incredibly complicated situation, and even if kakashi doesn’t have all the answers, he can at least understand what it feels like to be in that kind of position.  he’s been navigating something like this for many, many years.  he’s the precedent, someone who can help sasuke wrestle with the perhaps unanswerable questions of how am i supposed to dedicate myself to a place that wronged me like this?  why should i protect people who hurt me so badly?  is there even a way for me to move forward here, if i can’t forgive the ones who took my family away from me?  can this actually be my home again, when i know what it did to my people?

kakashi has obviously managed to come up with answers to these questions that enable him to stay integrated in his community and keep building a future he believes in, though I doubt any of his answers are simple, and i’m sure there are some things that he’s just had to accept will never be fully settled in his heart.  it’s like what he says to obito in an episode i watched recently: “i don’t know anything for sure, either...i’ve thought that this world is hell, too...but...”  it’s the but that matters.  even in the face of confusion and complexity, kakashi has found a way to keep moving.  he’s learned to co-exist with the uncertainty and discomfort surrounding him, and to make his own meaning out of this life, regardless of how complicated his internal relationship with the village might be.  he’s found a way to keep his eyes trained on the light, whatever that light might look like for him, and even if said light is only, as gaara says, “the faintest glimmer.”  he has so much to teach someone like sasuke, who up until recently was responding to that same plea of gaara’s with a fatalistic “i shut my eyes a long time ago.  the things i seek now lie only in the darkness.” 

anyway.  i am just having Many Thoughts currently about the intricacies of the political and social context that kakashi is always navigating, even though he never says a word about it.  and i’m curious whether this family history will ever come up again in the last fifth of this show.  if i were going on instinct alone, i’d suspect that we weren’t quite done with sakumo yet - i feel like we barely even started with him, to be honest (and also - whatever happened to kakashi’s mother???) - but i should know better at this point than to try and predict what this show is going to do, so i’ll just wait and see.

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[stillgirlfrommars]

you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen​ and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess. 

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

[gailynovelry]

WIP List Tag

Thanks to @albatris for the tag!

Rules: Share a list of the stories you’re currently working on, regardless of whether or not you have introduced them to writeblr before. I’m going to apologize to you beforehand because all of these are going to long. They are also queer. I do not apologize for that.

Heralds of Rhimn: A YA Dark Fantasy and my oldest project. The first book in the series is Shadow Herald;

“Few gods remain on the world of Rhimn, and the ones that do use special servants known as Heralds as pawns in the conflict between themselves. And not every Herald is happy with their role…

As Navaeli the Shadow Herald comes clashing with the dual threats of the Irongardhe knights and her own vengeful goddess, she finds romance in a handsome hooligan girl and friendship in a young feyrie thief — and with them, the courage to fight back against the injustices of her world.

But can Navaeli break free from the chains of her duty, or will she be the first casualty in the oncoming war between the gods?“

In essence, Navaeli is a dark messiah lesbian who Does Not Want To Be A Protagonist Please, Crislie is a love interest who decides to put her brawling problem to work protecting Navaeli, and Meparik is baby, but baby with many issues. In the time you’ve taken to read these character descriptions, he has probably already stolen your wallet.

The series as a whole involves some good wlw rapid-yearning-to-mutually-protective-girlfriends, REVOLUTION, a new take on fairies and a big ol’ middle-fingered subversion to the Oppressed Mage trope, and eventually some good ol’ fashioned god-killing.

The first book is going to come out May 20th this year! I have made a pretty cover for it, and also for the sequel! I am very proud of this!

Mindhive: A NA dystopia and the first project I’ve written where my characters are explicitly allowed to say “fuck.” They very much need to use this word, given the world I’ve built for them to inhabit.

“Dead-broke and dead-set on paying off his student loans before he’s forty, Nathaniel Emersin signed up as a paid test subject for ReGene, a genetics company with a mysterious new invention that they promise will change the world; the Worker Bee Implant.

But Nathaniel has one little secret that didn’t make it onto paper…

He’s also been hired by ReGene’s rival company, Future Body, to sabotage the trial and steal the mysterious new technology that ReGene’s been working on.”

Complications arise due to the presence of a very amicable security AI and the fact that Nathaniel gets attached to the two other lab rats he gets assigned to for the trial. And by “attached” I mean “develops mutual deep crushes on both Lucine and Avery, has a few cover-compromising panic attacks over it, and eventually reveals to them that he’s being hired to be a secret agent guy doing secret agent things.”

So he sort of decides to run away with his new girlfriend and datemate to an activist group who could a) remove the implant possibly and b) sue ReGene?

Needless to say, ReGene nor Future Body are happy with this turn of events, and decide that they should probably stop him before they experience consequences for the human experimentation and corporate sabotage.

Also, they take the AI with them. His name is Vertigo and he would like for someone to explain to him what a Vocaloid is.

Galactic Empress: This story is me indulging in my very specific need to write a royalty space opera political thriller. It is very high up on the Maslow’s chart of needs for me. It showed up one day and did not leave my brain.

“After the unresolved assassination of her mother, sweet but politically-savvy Princess Glissandrah Ayamarak — known better as Gliss — ascends to Galactic Empress earlier than she’d ever wanted to.

With her mother’s murderer still at large, Glissandrah turns to outsiders to protect her while she figures out just what game is being played in the Galactic Quorum. And it turns out that turning three hardened mercenaries into loyal royal bodyguards is harder than she first thought… but when anyone inside the Quorum could be after the crown, what other choice does she have?”

The hot and slightly controversial bodyguard team in question consists of Li-ah-li, a polite and slightly tired space furry, Yuukmi, a plantperson gunslinger with a space blaster in each of xer four hands, and Jennifer, a gruff human mercenary with a protective streak for her two alien comrades. This story is also polyamorous!

The Ghosts of Grimmigkeit Manor: I literally started working on this one again yesterday; it’s a reworking of a VERY old fully-OC pokemon fanfiction I wrote when I was fourteen, which has been subsequently lost to time. The genre is uhhhhhh paranormal shenanigans with semi-mystery vibes and a strong dose of snark. Probably NA.

The story follows three protagonists. Firstly is Eustace, a coroner who is doing a terrible job of divorcing himself from his family’s slightly goth business and reputation. Secondly is his triplet sister Alison, who is currently being The Responsible One running the family business of selling funeral caskets and who maybe should stop breaking the maids’ hearts in her free time. Thirdly is Dirk, the other triplet, who looks up to Eustace quite a bit and would really like it if his siblings got along more and maybe relaxed enough to let him leave the manor to go to college?

Anyway, during Eustace’s yearly Christmas visit to the family manor, it turns out that Eustace and Dirk can both see ghosts! This phases Eustace significantly more than Dirk, since Dirk has schizophrenia and didn’t realize at first that the ghosts were separate from his usual hallucinations.

The story at large involves family secrets, intimidating and quirky relatives, a murder that happened a quarter of a century ago, and this one really terrible ghost who needs to STOP MAKING THE WALLS BLEED BLOOD and who maybe is the triplets’ father. They have to figure out how to yeet him into the afterlife so that he stops causing problems.

Also, a different and more chill ghost owes Uncle Freddie money.

Misc: I have a dozen other ideas that I float around but Deliberately Wait To Work On because my stories are stews and they need some time to simmer in the crock pot that is my brain. Among these are a mermaid/selkie wlw romance, a mlm post-apoc ??? story, and various wlw Eragon ripoffs where there’s dragons being ridden and cool things happening.

[wastetimeandtype]

KUVIRA WINS STORY/ NEXT AVATAR (SUMMARY)

--I’m not going to finish this. I haven’t touched the story in years. Honestly I just don’t want to write something as bleak as this story anymore, I was in a weird place when I came up with this. However, I am still fond of it, and I think it’s some of my more solid writing (I wrote 25k) if you can forgive the more edgelord elements, but I won’t be finishing it. I will say this was never meant to be tonally similar nor do I want this story to happen in canon, it was just an extreme ending to book 4 I found interesting to explore.

CONTWNT WARNING: This takes an extremely uncharitable view of Kuvira and is overall pretty depressing, so be forewarned that this story summary mentions death and one instance of rape.

So, general backstory:

- The hummingbird suits fail and they don’t manage to enter the colossus. Jinora is seriously injured, and the group try and regroup but are captured.

- Kuvira drugs Korra with the toxin that incapacitated her that time in Zaofu the Red Lotus tried to kidnap her. Kuvira executes Bolin, Varrick and Zhu-Li for betraying her (this story is bleak...)

- Kuvira tries to win Korra over by talking to her and appealing that they’re similar. This doesn’t work, and also Kuvira just executed Bolin. Anyway she eventually gets pissed and tortures Asami and Mako in front of Korra. Korra manages to break through to the Avatar State but as she is poisoined she is not all powerful and Kuvira manages to kill her. Korra dies surrounded by Korra and Asami.

- In the months that follow, Hiroshi Sato and Asami and encouraged to work for Kuvira. Asami is aghast and the two plan an escape. Hiroshi dies in the escape attempt. Asami looks around the cells for Mako, but she can’t find him- at this point, they hadn’t seen eachother since Korra died and he was moved. She leaves Republic City by boat, vowing to take back the city. (note. Hiroshi’s fate was never fully decided, but I didn’t write him into my first draft so i assume I meant for him to be dead).

- Wu, meanwhile, managed to escape the encroaching forces from Kuvira as many of the refugees were evacuated to the Fire Nation just before full control was given. He then lives there in political exile.

- The Fire Nation declares war on Kuvira’s regime after they get confirmation that the Avatar is dead, along with the Water Tribes. Kuvira makes good progress conquering some of the islands, but the Fire Nation manages to make Hummingbird suits which destroys the mecha, and out of desperation starting making their own spirit nukes. This forces the war to a stalemate to aavoid further huge losses. However,  they do not sign a peace treaty, only a cessation of fighting. Kuvira releases some political prisoners like Iroh and the Air Nation as a sign of goodwill but Izumi and the Fire Nation won’t sign a treaty without the return of sovereignty to the United Republic. Kuvira refuses.

- Kuvira renames Republic City to Empire City, because originality, and makes it the capital. She rules the nation under an iron fist. All benders are made to register, with fire and waterbenders being treated the worst.

- MEANWHILE  Kuvira released Opal (airbender) but not the rest of the Beifongs. Opal is PISSED. She teams up with Asami and set up the United Republic Liberation Front, with volunteers from refugees from all over the world.

- Whilst this is happening, Zaheer and the Red Lotus’s ideology sees a resurgence of popularity and Zaheer is broken out of his prison to lead the Red Lotus. So we now have to rebel factions, and the URLF does not trust the Red Lotus because of the whole trying to murder Korra thing, and the Red Lotus doesn’t like that they plan to put Wu on the throne in the Earth Kingdom.

- The Air Nation relocates to the Fire Nation, but some like Meelo join the URLF, and some rejoin the Red Lotus. The Air Nation implicitly opposses the Earth Empire so any airbender is viewed as a terrorist.

- The Fire Nation implicitly support the URLF, the Earth Empire knows it, but the two nations are still at a stalemate due to the spirit nukes.

- Opal and Asami begin a relationship out of shared grief (they have lost their family, friends, and romantic interest (Asami didn’t even get to date Korra). They also vow to try and rescue Mako, as they don’t know what happened to him, but they suspect he’s imprisoned with other lightning benders.

- A young child named Xan is born in the Earth Kingdom. His single mother dies young, so he is raised in an orphanage. He is a talented earthbender, but one day when it’s cold, he warms his hands up with firebending. He is whisked away to Kuvira’s mansion in Empire City. He sees her as a mother figure and is very close with her. Xan, the Avatar, is brought up to be a loyal member of the regime, and doesn’t doubt it otherwise.

STORY PROPER

- Xan is super happy with Unification Day! They celebrate the day Kuvira unified the Empire by conquering Empire City. They even have a play called the Unification Play. Bolin and Varrick are portrayed as evil and duplitious,  propoganda runs rife. He is nearly seventeen.

- Xan is very loyal to the Earth Empire but chafes under the rule. He has mastered Earth and Fire, but struggles with airbending (as they have no teachers) and waterbending isn’t coming naturally either. He runs away from his bodyguard Iseul to have some fun on Unification Day. Iseul is a tall, metalbending soldier woman and around twenty-four. She is very by the book and has a strong sense of justice, and does not go out of her way to terrorise the fire and waterbenders like other members of the metalbending ruling class. However, Iseul is incredibly loyal to Xan, and loves him as a brother.

- Xan is reprimanded by Iseul and Kuvira for running off since he is a massive target for the evil rebels. Kuvira gives a speech to the crowd, but is targeted by an airbending assassin who is shot down by metalbending gaurds. She has insignia from the Red Lotus on her person so she is considered a terrorist. Zaheer is moved up to the top of the most wanted list above Asami and Opal.

- After this is Xan sees a vision of Korra. She has been trying to contact him, but Kuvira tells him to suppress these visions and that spirits are trying to influence him. He has no other education so he believes her. So he continues to ignore KOrra trying to get through to him.

- Xan is also generally an anxious mess and worries about the pressure.

- Xan watches soap operas with Kobi, his loyal servant of a similar age. Xan loves gossip and relationship drama. It’s his major flaw other than being an Earth Empire loyalist. He lives at the Air Temple with lots of guards which Kuvira turned into acomodation for him. Xan’s identity to the public is still kept secret, it’s just seen as more training barracks.

- Xan accompanies Kuvira to watch people being sentenced for being horrible people and also being anti regime. A waterbender is sentenced to a re-education camp, and her look to him strikes a nerve and disturbs him. Xan also visits a spirit weapons facility where they are attacked by a corrupted spirit (like in book 2) as all the spirit vine weaponry is causing the spiritual world to be out of whack and the spirits are angry (not helped by Xan ignoring his spiritual side).

- However Kobi briefly mentions that maybe Kuvira isn’t right all the time which causes Xan to snap at him. Xan is loyal.

- A few days later Kobi sneaks Xan out for some underage drinking but the drinks are actually drugged. Kobi is working for the URLF! Kobi is a trained liar so he evaded the truth seers under Kuvira’s employ. The URLF manage to get to the Air Temple, kidnap Xan in a submarine and take him away. This is the worst part of what I wrote because of how easy it was, and would be revised.

- Anyway Opal is on the submarine and takes Xan to the URLF base which is on a Southern Air Temple island (not the air temple itself, if that makes sense). They have an advanced cave system within the mountain to hideout.

- Opal on the trip is like ‘what up Xan’ and Xan is pissed and enters the Avatar State. They calm him down as he has nowhere to go as he is in a submarine. Xan is like ‘Bolin is shit fuck you’ and Opal hates this little shit. Xan can’t stand Kobi, who tries to say this is for the best and that Kuvira is wrong. Kobi is half a waterbender and hasn’t seen his mother in years as she didn’t register herself and was taken away to a camp, so Kobi joined the URLF. Xan has some sympathies, but can’t trust Kobi as Kobi has demonstrated that he is an excellent liar.

- They get to the hideout where we meet Asami. Asami and Opal are the leaders of the URLF. They imprison Xan for a bit where Korra again appears like ‘what up’ and he’s like go away. Asami lets Xan out of his prison to show him ‘Nuktuk’ because Asami is trying to explain to Xan bias and propoganda. She also offers that they’ll teach him airbending and his freedom around the complex in exchange for open-mindedness to their organisation. It’s better than being in a cell so Xan agrees. Asami also tells Xan that Kuvira killed Korra, and that she tortured Asami and Mako. Xan is disturbed, and also has no information on where Mako currently is. Opal is pretty pissed at Asami for basically doing this behind her back. (They have a slightly strained romance). Xan loves this drama. He is roomed with Kobi as Asami is like ‘you can room with your friend’ forgetting that Xan doesn’t like Kobi. Should be clear that Xan is pretty much trapped on this island as he has no control over the Avatar State and can’t bend water.

MEANWHILE

- Iseul really fucked up and Kuvira admonishes her for being a bad bodyguard. Iseul deeply cares for Xan and asks Kuvira to be allowed to go find Xan and Kuvira agrees (note: i do not like this plot point. I think it makes more sense for Iseul to go anyway despite Kuvira’s refusal).

- Iseul travels to a small town where she knows where rebels have had activity the Earth Empire is trying to stamp out. She decides to integrate with them, get close to the leadership, find Xan. She saves two members from the metalbending police starts to get friendly with the rebels. However they aren’t the URLF, they’re actually aligned with the Red Lotus, but on the ground, in towns, they often function fairly similar. Iseul decides to accompany a small group who are travelling down to another town with URLF contacts. She also meets Chatit, a prominent leader of the URLF. They flirt with eachother a little bit. Iseul wonders what she’s doing. THIS IS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING, THE REST IS PURE NOTES.

- Iseul and the Red Lotus gang get sidetracked by a member along the journey saying they think they found a bunch of lightning benders in a prison. The Red Lotus decides to break them out, Iseul reluctantly agrees to this to prove she is loyal to the cause so she can integrated with the URLF when the time comes. Of course, Mako’s in the prison! With a child named Akane. Iseul rescues Mako personally as he has an injured leg and they start to bond. Iseul also gets along with Akane.

- Akane is the daughter of Akane, another lightning bender Mako fell in love with in prison. She reveals she’s not Mako’s biological daughter, but the product of rape from one of the guards. Iseul is horrified, and does make her doubt the integrity of the regime she loves.

- Chatit decides, ‘hey, let’s go to Zaheer instead! We can get him on side when we go see the URLF and Mako is now a bargaining chip’. Mako is very unamused by this whole situation. He just wants to see Asami and Opal. He also likes Iseul not only for saving him but it’s clear that she doesn’t really believe in Zaheer and he likes that she thinks for herself.

- Chatit brings Mako to Zaheer’s secret camp in the woods and he’s like ‘what up Zaheer I brought you the guy who killed Ming-Hua!’ Zaheer does not give a shit as he is beyond grudges and admonishes a Chatit for not getting their philosophy. However doesn’t mind using Mako as a bargaining chip.

- mako is like to Iseul ‘Chatit is as bad with Zaheer as the metalbendera are with Kuvira’ and Iseul is like wait... that’s ME. She doesn’t say this aloud though but she now thinks Chatit is a complete weirdo because he simps for Zaheer so hard. Iseul’s faith in the regime is still shaken but Iseul is still dedicated to finding Xan and making sure he’s safe.

MEANWHILE (we’d cut back and forth between the two POV’s, so this is all mixed in with eachother).

— Xan struggles to learn airbending as he doesn’t know what true freedom is.

- Wu visits and is like ‘hey let’s party! You guys are so miserable!’ Wu also has a hunky Fire Nation boyfriend now. However Xan gleans from Wu that he intends to regain the throne, and also be the last King. The bloodline dies with him.

- Xan and Kobi have a little dance at this party. Opal and Asami make up. Xan is enthralled.

- Xan starts to make some progress with airbending so Opal and Asami decide to bring him on a boat to the Southern Water Tribe to visit the spirit portal in the hope he’ll be able to reconnect with Korra properly there by force instead of him burying it.

— they get to the Southern Water Tribe by Air Bison. The Souther Warter Tribe is attacked by Kuvira’s forces. Corrupted spirits also attack and wreck havoc amongst the general populace and the forces.

— in the chaos Korra reappears before Xan and he connects with her. She brings him to the moment of her death, and he feels her pain and is horrified, and it confirms the torture side of the story. Xan snaps back, enters the Avatar state and leaves with Asami and Opal.

— this is where the story gets a little shaky, but Xan still tries to believe he might be able to get through to Kuvira.

MEANWHILE

Word spreads that the Avatar has returned! Iseul sends some sort of message to the Earth empire forces to ask if they have Xan back. This is intercepted by the Red Lotus. Mako is horrified as the whole group realised she is a traitor. They move to execute her but Mako does step in since Iseul saved him from the prison, but declares to her to never interact with him and his daughter again. Which is sad as Iseul was getting a big sister bond with Akane. Akane does apologise to Mako but he’s having none of it. He just feels manipulated and he is so, so tired.

— not been clear but Mako’s mental state isn’t great. He’s been in prison for around seventeen years, witnessed the execution of his brother, and murder of Korra. He’s a bit fucked. His leg is also in poor condition and can’t fight well, he’s basically just been used to power lightning for years. Akane is the only thing that keeps him going. He wants to make sure she’s safe with Asami and Opal. Plus he’s also being used as a bargaining chip.

— the Red Lotus finally get to the URLF contacts. They manage to speak to Asami and Opal who are like ‘whooo Mako!’ and agree to a meeting with Zaheer. Xan decides to come too.

— Iseul and Mako are transferred to the URLF. Iseul finally decides to give up some crucial information— the Earth Empire intends to use its spirit weapons again soon, as they anticipate that the Fire Nation will use the comet in years to come to destroy the Earth Empire. They intend to use such an intense, short blast that the Fire Nation can’t respond.

— the URLF and Red Lotus decided they must band together, but they have to get the Fire Nation on side to attack the Earth Empire unexpectedly.

— Xan decides he must speak to Kuvira. Get her to see reason. Everyone tells him he’s delusional so he steals an Air Bison to get himself there before the attack.

— Before they fight, Mako, Opal and Asami have a tearful reunion. Mako can’t fight as he isn’t well, but he does bid them farewell.

— once there, Kuvira will not see reason. They fight and fight and fight, while the Fire Nation ships arrive with a shit tonne of weapons s, and the Earth empire prepares to use its weapons. Xan realised that it’s going to be an all out death battle, mutually assured destruction, so he kills Kuvira in a very long fight where he goes into the Avatar state (at this point he is pretty good at airbending but cannot waterbenders still).

— war is averted. Xan is traumatised and pissed. Korra reminds him that he isn’t some weapon— he’s been told what to do all his life, even by the URLF. So against proper protocol as suggested by Asami, he grabs all the spirit weapons in a big hurricane from both sides, and blows them up, forming a massive explosion (it could form a spirit portal like in book 4, but I don’t want to take Korra’s moment).

— the URLF establish control over Republic City. Asami is appointed temporary president. Wu is named King of the Earth Kingdom. Immediate release from the camps occur and the metalbending police are disbanded. Opal is re-United with her family.

— Zaheer says nothing and does nothing more after removing Kuvira, Though he does nod at Xan after the end— is it respect or a warning? Does Zaheer intend to try and kill the Avatar a second time?

— Asami and Mako enter a relationship, with Opal and Asami continuing theirs. It’s a poly life. Mako doesn’t really forgive Iseul but does tell her he might one day, and Iseul vows to make sure there is true justice for everyone.

— Xan is traumatised and hurt and realised he still has much more to learn. He decides to sneak away to the Northern Water Tribe. Kobi tells him it’s okay if he needs to spend some time alone, but he can have company if he needs it. Xan accepts and Xan and Kobi board a ship to the Northern Water Trube.

The endddd.

* I do realise Kobi has little impact on the plot after he spies for the URLF. He would mostly appear as Xan’s friend in the story and Xan would eventually trust him again. Hinted relationship between the two as he was the only person that Xan was honest with that wasn’t Iseul, and only she did it sometimes.

* I realised a while ago there there was an issue with Mako’s subplot not brought up here, that if Kuvira imprisoned him, wouldn’t she try and use him as bait with Opal and Asami? Or even execute him to send a message. Something. So I did come up with a backstory that Mako escaped prison but was recaptured, and went under a false name. It was only noticed that he was Mako because Iseul studied all the history books and recognised him as valuable during his rescue. None of this was developed beyond my own notes but it solves some logic issues, though is a bit contrived still to make this subplot work.

[butsobeautiful]

You could be the king, but watch the queen conquer.

Genre: drabble, alternate history.

Inspired by Daechwita music video and influenced by wine inspired research on Empress Myeongseong

Pairing: min yoongi/reader; min yoongi/unnamed female protagonist

1.6k words

The king was dead. Despite one’s personal opinion of the king, the people of the Joseon dynasty, regardless of class, were shocked. At his own wedding, the king had been murdered. A man entered the temple, parading as a servant, and stabbed him before the king could make his appearance.

The Usurper, the people called him in hushed voices. The bride-to-be looked at him with stoic gratitude. It was no secret the current king still had the mentality of a naïve prince. The woman had no qualms with the duties being a queen and a wife entailed; rather, the husband was the main problem. She had no interest in the king. He had been ruling for six moons, and his reign promised little to his people and his legacy. With Japan looming in the distance, the entire nation watched their king with trepidation.

And then, they watched his funeral rights. The Usurper came from the Yeoheung Min clan, a respectable aristocratic house. The Min bastard surprised everyone. Min Yoongi murdered the king on the day of his wedding.

He did it to prove he is worthy, some gossiped. Others claimed it was an old rivalry between himself and the king. Only Yoongi knew the truth, and he did not deign to share his reasoning with anyone in the court.

The dead king’s bride-to-be did not fear for her life. Once her eyes met the Usurper’s, instead of the king’s, her mind began to plan. While perhaps not renowned for her beauty—though she was by no means unattractive—the bride’s near infamy stemmed from her intellect and wit. Her father had no sons, but that did not deter her from learning the responsibilities of a man. When she saw the blood-stained blade held steady in Yoongi’s practiced hand, she neither screamed nor cried.

“Release your blade, my king,” she announced, while bowing to the floor. “It would be a discredit if you did not seize the opportunity at hand. The bride of your enemy is a spoil of war for your taking.” The words were biting, and made the Usurper—Yoongi—halt in his tracks.

His eyes widened, the scar over his right eye threatening to inhibit his expression. The woman before him was bowing with her head upon the ground in her wedding outfit. This, to say the least, had not been a part of Yoongi’s personal mission whatsoever. The absurdity of the situation, combined with the flustering adrenaline of assassination, caused him to laugh out loud.

The woman tensed, but said nothing. “Why would I want the wife of my enemy?”

At that, her head shot up. “My hand was promised, but the ceremony was incomplete. The marriage has not happened and will not happen, let alone be consummated.” Yoongi was mildly perturbed at her icy words and her lapse of proper behavior. However, he recognized her, and knew her reputation. He had only seen her in passing before, as noble families often mingle. She, however, was instructed to stay away from the bastard. She, however, would at least recognize his presence with direct eye contact and a slight nod of her head.

She knew him, of course. Thus, while her behavior was scandalous for their society, her status and intelligence granted her some level of immunity.

“I did not realize the wedding was... interrupted.” Yoongi lowered his sword. The guards in that room removed their hand from their weapon and relaxed at a pointed look from the former bride. She stood and faced Yoongi head on. The intensity of her person made it seem like she was staring you down eye-to-eye, regardless of any height differences.

“The fact remains. So, my king Min Yoongi, what shall you do with me?” She asked, her stomach flipping. While her face remained a placid calm, her nerves were screaming at her to run, her heart beating faster than it had ever. He pressed his lips together, looking her up and down. “You are a fine woman, and the power of your mind is no secret. I am sure you will figure something out. You are excused from my presence.”

Yoongi had little interest whatsoever in dealing with any of the old king’s business. He was starting afresh, he would change the nation for its people’s protection and prosperity.

“My king.” She bowed again, her eyes returning to his with reflecting levels of intensity as his. His mind saw her at the banquets, her eyes meeting his and refusing to break away. The other men and women would make eye contact and quickly turn to their friends and whisper or gossip, as if he were blind. “Allow me to impart my advice.” Yoongi’s face scrunched up, he wanted anything but advice. She narrowed her eyes and pushed onward.

“The kingdom will be in chaos if you are not prepared to manage the current system we have. Whether you keep to the status quo or completely overthrow our current form of governance is up to you. However, as it stands, you need loyal advisors. For every person who despised the king, there is someone who is loyal. Their loyalty may solely be based upon wages, but they will all resist you—at first. Furthermore, you need an heir as soon as physically possible. This will secure your throne claim and legacy.”

“Why are you helping me? Why have you never treated me for what I am? You never treated me like a bastard and now you refuse to treat me as the murderer of your husband-to-be and king.” Yoongi’s defenses were elevated to extremes.

A smile ghosted upon her face. “You’re like me. Everyone underestimates your abilities. You are a bastard. I am a woman. You are stronger than the majority of men with proud and strong bloodlines. I am smarter than those same men.” She shrugged, softly. Yoongi suddenly returned her slight smile. “It would be dishonorable to treat you as the spoils of war, my lady. Should you so choose, my reign needs a queen, and I could ask of no better woman than the one before me.”

It had been ages since the woman allowed surprise to affect her. Now, her mouth softly dropped open. She fully expected that the Usurper would take her and make her his wife. However, Yoongi’s appearance allowed her to hope. Whatever fears she had were no reflection of his character. Simply put, she was a woman, and promised property to the newly deceased king. Further shocking her, Yoongi bowed deeply at her feet.

Moved, she knelt and lifted his face to meet her sight. “I accept.”

“It could bring shame upon your family, upon yourself.”

She scoffed. “You’re the King now. They wouldn’t dare. And you should be well aware that their opinion can rot for all I care.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at the woman before him as she set her jaw and her eyes burned with a deep conviction he had only been able to catch glimpses of in the past. Now she directed it at him.

She drank in his face as closely as he did to her. In this moment, the bastard felt like an equal more than claiming the title of king made him feel. His eyes, one marred by an old wound, tried to convey that strong feeling as words failed. He had his father’s facial structure; the signature sharp eyes and soft nose of the Min family. At this moment, his family name was just a word—it held none of its authority. His only reason to hold onto it now was to allow her to take it, too. To share it with him and change its legacy.

Despite his strength of body and will, his lips exercised the utmost gentleness when he kissed her. His lithe fingers cupped her face the second she kissed back. His expression when she sighed softly and pulled away was the look of an annoyed old man. This unabashedly honest reaction made her chuckle softly as she stroked his cheekbone.

While not in love, the two were attracted to each other. Without needing to state it, the two knew their union made the best political sense, and it was truly fortunate that their compatibility was based upon—and had always been based upon—respect. Though Yoongi, the bastard son of the Min clan’s patriarch had unfavorable fortune, his new bride never acknowledged his origins. His father had given him the Min name, and a Min he was. To her, it was as simple as that.

The consummation of their marriage was a tender affair. Both parties relished in being able to speak their minds without supervision. Having stayed up all night baring mind and soul, the baring of their bodies finally happened as the sun began to rise on their new kingdom. Yoongi had never felt such wonder at the simple intimacy of lacing his fingers through the soft hand of his wife.

He knew that, with her by his side, they could lift the kingdom to prosperity, and rectify the failures and lack of compassion exhibited by the previous kings and queens. From the moment he laid eyes on her, and from the moment she did not avert her gaze, he knew that fate favored them.

“My Queen?” He asked. The court sat in scandalized silence as their king deferred to his wife.

“The diplomatic relations with Japan are tense. We should confer with the Chinese and the Russians to address the threats of the Japanese empire. Send a member of the Kim clan to China, their queen favors the sons for potential wedding prospects of the daughters.” The queen spoke with clarity, and Yoongi nodded and stared at his court. No one seemed to leap into service. Blatantly rolling his eyes, Yoongi drawled:

“You heard your queen—what are you waiting for?”

[luci-cunt]

Ok so when I said I was writing fanfic for AW I planned on doing a lighthearted cops/robbers kinda thing and then last night i woke up at 4am and wrote this all down and the only way I can describe it is as “Markus Zusak meets William Goldman” and I’m very sorry.

Anyways, here’s 

“This is a love story”

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

There was blood on the linoleum tiles, it shone in the garishly bright lights of the store. Everything looked slick, and hazy, and Izetta laid out on her back with her head resting next to the gasping man. 

They both stared up at the ceiling--the man because he couldn’t move other than to wheeze a few more desperate breaths--and Izetta because she was waiting for someone. 

“Bi--bitch,” the man dying managed to choke out. 

It just made Izetta smile. “Yeah.”

This--as unbelievable as it may seem--is a love story. 

Not between these two, however, but something a bit more… unexplainable. The concept of love predates the concept of hate, or murder--if you believe in a dusty book with just about one thousand too many words trying to explain the utterly unattainable seeming concept of: do not be a dick. Of course, maybe you follow a different religion--they all have a book though--the big ones at least. 

However, I was there--at the beginning of all time, and I can tell you this one particular thing: no one started it. 

The universe was created on a wild coincidence, and the planet you’re currently sitting on was forged in the opulent expanses of pure, unadulterated, chance. 

One thing that is for certain is that--no, I will not be explaining who I am because I don’t matter--remember, this is a love story and I am but a concept given a typewriter and a fuck ton of a magical substance called caffiene. Remarkably, I find it tolerable, despite the fact that I watched you humans learn to chew the beans by watching goats get high. 

I digress, back to Izetta and her stained linoleum floor. 

The man laying beside her, dying painfully slowly had a name. It doesn’t matter though, all that does matter is that he was taking far too long to reach the end of life. 

Finally, finally, the man wheezed his last breath and his eyes went dark and his body limp and lifeless. Izetta grinned, still staring up at the ceiling, her ears perked for any sign of her expected visitor. 

As usual, there was no sound. At least, not until she wanted to be heard of course. 

“Sloppy,” Ivory said, making Izetta’s grin widen painfully. 

“Hello darling,” she said, pushing herself up to get a good look at the woman looking distastefully down at the man on the floor. 

Something to note: after death you have the opportunity to become a guardian of sorts. You can watch over someone of your choosing and assist them through their life, keeping them safe. Most people stick to their families, others will latch on to total strangers just for the excitement, and others still--well, they’re Ivory. 

Ivory has a brother, who has a husband. She has two nephews and three godchildren. She is also too good at her job. Despite the--for lack of a better term--OP seeming possibility of guardians, they are still human, they still make mistakes and death does not make you omniscient. Ivory however, is clever. Her brother survived four natural disasters, an attempted hostage situation, and a very messy run-in with a garbage disposal. 

This couldn’t be tolerated, people do have to die at some point--thus is the circle of life. And so she was forcibly reassigned. 

This is when she met Izetta--another woman horrifically good at her job. She worked as an assassin, hunting and killing people and she noticed when Ivory appeared. Most don’t, guardians are silent things, they watch over you and keep you safe in subtle ways. Izetta however, had a bit of a… shall we say… remarkably idiotic streak. 

When she noticed Ivory she began actively trying to kill herself to test just how far her newfound ‘luck’ would get her. 

And that was when Izetta met Ivory. 

On your deathbed is the only time you can see a guardian, they’re supposed to explain the concept to you, offer you the choice, and then move on to the next family member or just off into the ether. 

Izetta had to drop four toasters into her bathtub and blow her apartment up with C4 to see Ivory. 

And then it became a game. 

Izetta began to literally flirt with death, an affair that wasn’t unreciprocated. But then Ivory ran into the same problem she’d run into before--she was too good at her job. 

They’re last moment together was a quiet one, both sprawled out in a bed, skin slick with sweat and breathing heavy as they stared at the ceiling with their heads together. 

“How did you die?” she asked bluntly. Honestly she had expected something flippant as an answer. Ivory was a strong woman, she took every hit with her teeth gritted and her fists clenched just waiting for the next opening. 

So when Ivory went quiet, Izetta was surprised enough that he turned her head to see Ivory’s dark expression. She was quick to push herself up and bring a hand to Ivory’s cheek, all mirth draining from their conversation. Ivory’s eyes looked dull, empty. 

“You don’t have to answer that I didn’t mean to--” 

“My mother,” Ivory cut her off. Izetta blinked, she didn’t get the chance to speak though, because Ivory was speaking again. “I died saving my brother from my mother.” 

There was a long, endless stretch of silence. “Fuck,” Izetta whispered. 

And then in the next moment Ivory was gone, vanished into thin air. It was always impossible to tell when Ivory’s will to keep her physical form would reach an end, usually it was sudden, but in this case it made Izetta ache. 

She laid awake, alone in bed for a long time, before she finally made up her mind. She caught a bus, taking it to the last place Ivory had mentioned living--Wyoming--and she found herself a phone book and she searched the entire state until she ended up on Monte Cyron’s doorstep. 

She knew she’d found the right person as soon as she saw him, they could have been twins. He furrowed his brow when he saw her, there was a toddler on his hip and a man a little farther in was cooking something in the kitchen and chatting with another child. 

Izetta felt out of place, uncomfortable, and she drew a blank on what to say. 

“Can I help you?” the man asked. 

“I need you to come with me,” Izetta said. A shitty, half baked and terrible plan forming in her head. 

The man breathed something akin to a laugh. “Uh, no?” he said. 

“Ok,” Izetta said, and then she turned and left. She waited until the man closed the door and then snuck around the side of the house. She could hear them talking inside, quiet murmurs of confusion and concern. Izetta groaned quietly and pulled on her hair, gritting her teeth and cursing herself. 

Then she looked upwards, even though she had no way of knowing where Ivory was watching her from (behind her and a little to the left, her expression dangerously dark but with a glimmer of curiosity) and she whispered. “Sorry, I really hope this works out but just--trust me? Please don’t kill me I’m trying to be nice,” Izetta said.

(it didn’t help Ivory’s expression).

Izetta waited until night had fallen thick and hot over the flat plains of Wyoming, she listened intently for any sign of movement after she heard the two men put their children to sleep, and then, when everything was quiet, she broke into their house. 

Despite her rash personality, Izetta was still a highly experienced assassin who was excellent at her job, breaking in without making a single noise was as easy as slipping into sleep and she carefully crept upstairs. She slipped into their closet, neither man stirred from their sleep, and she waited patiently until one of the children in the other room started crying. 

The two men groaned awake, and then Monte shoved Sinclair off the bed, which was met with a curse and a light-hearted promise of vengeance, but he left the room. Monte himself rolled over, trying to slip back into sleep, and Izetta took her opportunity. She left the closet, quiet as a ghost, and locked the bedroom door. Then, without any hesitation, she jumped on Monte and strangled him half to death. 

To his credit, he fought well, and he almost got away, but Izetta was desperate and she refused to let go. 

Then, right at the last second, she dropped him. He lay still for a brief second, and then gasped, quickly sucking in air and shoving Izetta off of him. She went, scrambling to the far side of the room and then grinned when she noticed the new figure in the room. 

“Monte,” Ivory said, and Monte froze in his vicious attempt to follow after Izetta with the lamp on his bedside. He turned slowly--so very slowly, and then dropped the lamp when he laid eyes on Ivory. 

“Ivory?” he whispered in disbelief. 

They crashed into one another in the space between blinks and held each other so tightly it looked painful. Ivory’s eyes were squeezed shut and she held the back of Monte’s neck as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder and held her arms in a vice grip. It looked so practiced, so easy, like it was second nature to fall into the embrace. 

Then Ivory opened her eyes and glared at Izetta. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” she growled, sounding like she was barely hanging on to her composure. 

Monte pushed away quickly. “What?” he yelped, and Ivory shook her head. 

“Not you--her,” she explained, and Monte jumped at the reminder of Izetta, who waved and tried her best to look polite. 

“Wait--yeah what the fuck?? What the hell is going on?” Monte demanded. 

“Sorry about that whole--choking you to death thing, I was trying to be nice,” Izetta said. 

“You had no idea it would work, you’re a fucking idiot,” Ivory snapped. 

Izetta just shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, but it did work.” 

“Monte--” Ivory said, grabbing her brother’s shoulders and stealing his attention again. “I don’t have much time, I just--” she stopped, like she didn’t know what to say. “I’m so proud of you, and so happy for you.” 

“I don’t--” 

“It’s harder to stay here for someone who isn’t my charge, I’m already slipping but just know--you mean everything to me, and if I could do it all over again--I wouldn’t change a single thing.” 

Ivory didn’t let Monte speak again, she just pulled him into another tight embrace and whispered, “The wedding was beautiful, I’m sorry I could be there for you,” and then she was gone. 

“What--what the fuck,” Monte whispered. 

The doorknob turned, and then Sinclair’s confused voice called out. “Monte?” 

“Shit--ok, I gotta go,” Izetta said, jumping for the window. Monte caught her arm at the last second and she let him, for just a moment.

“Wait--what--?? How--?” he tried, and just shrugged. 

“Sorry I’ve got no idea, bye now,” and then she was gone. 

Again despite her brash personality, Izetta was actually surprisingly observant. She noticed that Ivory wasn’t around her anymore--it was hard to miss. It felt like an aching hole in her chest that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she was sure it was going to drive her mad. 

She knew Ivory had been forced to leave her brother because she was too good at what she did, and so she just assumed that was what had happened, and she made it her life’s mission to make Ivory horrible at her job. 

And so we meet back at the beginning of our story, with a man bleeding out and Izetta grinning up at the love of her life. 

How she managed to track down an invisible, unknowable entity--I personally have no idea. How she managed to do it for the rest of her life? 

Well, I told you, 

This is a love story.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

An Unexpected Memory

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The reader helps Bucky remember a piece of his past while hosting Christmas dinner for the avengers.

Warnings/ Content: angst if you squint, mostly feels.

Word Count: 1305

Author’s Note: So this written for the amazing @interestedbystanderwrites ‘s 12 Days of Christmas Drabbles. I am a terrible drabbler so this ended up WAY more than 500 words but hey, ya girl tried. My prompt was for today, December 16th: You are in charge of planning Christmas dinner. Create a menu for your perfect Christmas meal. This immediately made me think of family meals spent together on the holiday and how Bucky probably not even know where to start with that LOL. I hope ya’ll have as much fun this little fic as I had writing! XOXO - Ash

An Unexpected Memory

“We can host this year, Pepper. Don’t worry about it.” You repeat for the third time in five minutes. 

Bucky rolls his eyes from his spot on the sofa, watching you pace around the living room as you talk on the phone. It’s an oddly charming 21st century habit and it both amuses and irritates the former assassin who is just trying to get through the latest episode of “How’s It’s Made” undisturbed. 

Bucky’s ears perk up when he realizes the tide has turned and you are winning whatever you’re trying to convince Pepper Potts-Stark to do. 

“I know… Okay…. Really it’s….. Oh, great! We’ll see you in two weeks.” you say and then set your phone on the side table. 

You hop around doing a little victory dance before flopping down on the sofa. “We’re hosting Christmas Dinner for the Avengers this year.” you tell him with a grin.

Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment before he stifles down the anxiety that flares up over having an apartment full of people. “Did we want to?” he asks trying for casual but still sounding hesitant.

You give him a half shrug, “Someone has to. The roofers won’t be done at Pepper’s until after New Years at this rate. She can’t host dinner for the team when she’s missing a hunk out of her ceiling.” 

Bucky laughs, “I still can’t believe Morgan got her hands on an old repulsor. Let alone figured out how to get it to work. She’s Tony’s kid through and through.” 

“Poor Pep. She’s really got her hands full. You don’t mind that I volunteered us to host, do you?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice to have everyone over again. It’s been over a year since the housewarming party.” 

“Mhmm. I haven’t see Wanda in ages either. It’ll be good.”  

Bucky plants a kiss on your head and goes back to his show so you snuggle in against the human space heater that is your boyfriend and bring up menu suggestions on Pinterest. 

xxXxx

“So what do you think?” you ask after rattling off an extensive list of foods for Christmas dinner. 

Bucky looks up, slightly bewildered, cheeks chipmunking out from the sandwich he’s currently inhaling. Ever polite, he swallows his mouthful and wipes his lips with his napkin before speaking. “It’s all fine, baby girl. Whatever you wanna do.” 

You shake your head, wanting him to be more involved. “Come on, give me something here.” you insist, “What did your ma make for Christmas when you were a kid?”

Bucky pauses and puts down his sandwich. You can all but hear his mind churning as he tries to locate those specific memories through the smoke and fog. HYDRA had done their best to wipe out his long term memories but after years of therapy and a little (okay a lot) of help from Shuri and her team, he had a good amount back. He still got flashes of memories now and then when something triggered them and what came up typically stuck. 

“I… I don’t know. I’m sorry.” he sounds defeated and you reach out to take his hand, covering it lightly with yours.

“Don’t apologize. I can try and find a typical 1930s or 40s menu online and see if any of it jogs your memory. Or, we can just make more modern stuff and make our own memories. It’s all up to you.” 

“I could try looking a list if you can find one.” 

You whip out your phone quickly and start typing away at a Google search. Bucky is picking at the edge bits of his sandwich, destroying it instead of eating it at this point, and you feel guilty to have soured his lunch. After a few clicks you find a menu on a homemaking blog that focuses on depression era clothes, recipes, and lifestyle tips. “I found a list.” you tell him and he nods, waiting for you to start, “Okay, how about sweet potato casserole?” you show him the picture and he shakes his head, “Olives?” he shakes his head again, “Buttered squash?” he wrinkles his nose and shakes his head yet again, “Plum pudding?” this picture he lingers staring at. Bucky tilts his head a little to the right and he stares at the image, the crinkley lines at the sides of his eyes deepening as he squints a little. “This is familiar?” you ask hopefully. It’s disgusting looking but you will make a thousand of them if it will help him remember more about his past.

Bucky nods slowly, “I think so. It feels familiar but I can’t quite remember it.” 

“It’s worth a try. And if it doesn’t jog your memory at least we’ll have another dessert for the table.” 

Bucky makes a humming sound of agreement and goes back to his sandwich with a thoughtful expression still on his face. 

xxXxx

It was after ten o’clock on Christmas Eve and you are still in the kitchen preparing things for the next day. Bucky has floated through the kitchen a few times since getting home; just to pull you close and give you a kiss, making sure you don’t need any help. He’s sweet but you don’t trust him to boil water, let alone prep a holiday dinner.  You pull the plum pudding out of the oven and set it down on a trivet to cool on the counter top. The apartment quickly fills with the scent of dark, sweet cinnamon and Bucky’s head pops out of the office almost immediately. “What’s that smell?” he asks taking a long sniff.

You try not to get overly hopeful, “The plum pudding just came out of the oven.” 

Bucky comes out and stares at the slightly odd looking dessert. It would be funny if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is. He pokes at it gently and takes a larger breath right in the steam that’s floating up from it like ghosts of Christmas past. You pull a fork out of the silverware drawer and hand it to him silently. You have to drizzle icing over it anyway so if he takes a bite now no one will be the wiser. Bucky takes a small chunk out from the edge, blowing on it before popping it into his mouth. He chews once and his eyes close, his forehead smoothing out and his breathing hitching for a moment. His eyes stay closed as he finishes the bite and swallows; his voice low and thick when he finally speaks. “I remember this now. It wasn’t my ma, it was Steve’s. Every year Sarah would scrape together enough change to make this one tiny little cake, and Steve would insist on sharing his half with me. I never had the heart to tell him I hated raisins.”  When he opens his eyes they’re filled with unshed tears and you pull him in close by the waist so you can hug him tightly while he processes the memory that surfaced. 

Bucky clings to you while he takes a moment to steady himself. “Thank you for this.” he says quietly into your hair. 

It’s not the memory he was trying to find but it’s a memory nonetheless. Steve is coming to dinner tomorrow and Bucky can’t wait to see the older man’s face when he tastes the dessert. Every holiday he can’t help but worry about how many more Steve has left. This is something they can share though, another memory from their past; when they were young and life was simpler. 

“So,” you say, breaking him from his reverie, “Should we keep plum pudding on the Christmas menu from now on?” 

Bucky kisses the top of your head before pulling back to look you in the eye. “Absolutely not. I’m not afraid to tell you I hate raisins.” 

~~The End~~

[arabellaflynn]

Text of a test monologue. Would you like to see me deliver this on camera, with no makeup, no lighting equipment, and using Notepad as a TelePrompTer? Head on over to my https://www.patreon.com/ArabellaFlynnPatreon, and for a dollar a month you too can see me waffle on in real time.

Hi, all. You may notice that I am on video now. I was going to shoot a couple of tests and apologize for the poor quality of the footage, and explain that I want to start vlogging and streaming in addition to writing, but I need some equipment to do it properly and for that I need to raise some funds... But fuck it. This is going out first instead.

As I record this, it is the fourth of July. You can probably hear the fireworks outside my window. I know I can. There are a lot of those, because we've all been inside and bored for the past four months. 

I know a lot of people who have opted not to observe the holiday this year. The 4th of July is often viewed as a celebration of the American institution, which is a little bit on fire right now, with a few people determined to squirt lighter fluid all over the flames like a bored suburban dad at a barbecue. On the other hand, it's also Independence Day, and marks the end of the long, painful process by which a population broke free of distant, uncaring overlords who cared mainly about the financial dividends of their colonies, and ignored the grievances of the people until they started breaking shit. So YMMV.

I would comment on some of the details, but I don't know them. The Late Show is on hiatus, and John Oliver doesn't air until tomorrow. I, like a lot of my demographic, get most of my current events from comedians. There's a reason for that.

I actually watched a lot of news as a teenager.

Well, "watched" might be too strong a word. It's easier for me to fall asleep if there's some sort of droning noise in the background. When I was about fifteen, I discovered that, unlike the main CNN channel, which has actual shows and documentaries, CNN Headline News just runs the day's top stories over and over again in an unending 30 minute loop. Interesting enough to keep me from falling into a train of thought that will prevent me from sleeping, boring enough that I don't want to stay up and listen.

I have no memory of the desk anchors. I'm sure they were consummate professionals, but they also had no distinguishing human characteristics whatsoever. I know they were updating the loop live, because occasionally a story would be added to the list and another one would drop off the back, and occasionally one would flub the text on their prompter, but other than that there was no hint that the face at the desk was attached to a living, breathing person.

I do remember a couple of the correspondents. One was Christiane Amanpour. Her voice stood out; CNN is an American news station that was originally restricted to American cable networks, and the vast majority of the staff is from the US. Amanpour is British-Iranian, having split her childhood between Tehran, before the revolution, and London, after. They liked to send her to the bowels of Eastern Europe to report from the war-torn streets of Citygrad in Countrystan. She had already caught some criticism on her reporting of the Bosnian War, for advancing the apparently controversial opinion that genocide was bad. I didn't know that at the time; I just thought she sounded more like she told real stories than read off lists of facts.

Another was Anderson Cooper, who was not nearly such a big deal then as he is now. Cooper, a self-described adrenaline junkie, was a war correspondent at the time, with a habit of ducking only briefly for explosions before standing back up to continue his piece to camera. He wouldn't be infamous until his coverage of Hurricane Katrina years later, both for the overall stellar job he did, and also for that one time he got tired of getting non-answers from some government toad in a live interview and very professionally flipped his shit at the lady, asking if she realized how tone deaf it was to sit there thanking other politicians for doing essentially nothing while there were still bodies in the street.

I quit watching the news when I moved away to college. It wasn't necessarily that knowing was worse than not knowing, but I felt a lot of pressure to be "adult" about it at that point, and watching proper news shows made me anxious to the point where I wouldn't sleep. I outright avoided it to the point where I made it to a canceled class at 4 pm, Mountain Standard Time, on September 11, 2001, before anyone told me what was going on.

I wasn't able to put my finger on why I found the news so horrible until many years later. I can't remember what rabbit hole I'd fallen down, but I ended up sitting on YouTube watching segments of the live news coverage of the 1981 assassination attempt on President Reagan. Reagan was shot in the side and later recovered without complications, but his Press Secretary, James Brady, was struck in the head and sustained considerable neurological damage. Brady, together with his wife Sarah, later went on to be a noted advocate for gun control, but at the time was reported to have died on the scene. 

I wound up watching a lot of one of the news desks -- ABC, I think. It started out like all the others, until the anchor tripped up a couple of times and referred to Press Secretary Brady as "Jim", and I realized: He knows these people. Personally. He's a member of the White House Press Corps, or a friend of the Bradys, or both. I'm watching a journalist reporting on a moment of historical significance to the American people, and a human being who has to tell the entire nation about someone's personal tragedy. His investment did not make him any less professional or informative than any of the others, but it did make his coverage feel very grounded in reality in a way that most news, then and now, does not.

The older I get, the more disquieting I find it to have a talking head behind a shiny desk read me a list of horrible things that have happened today without any apparent reaction. It makes it seem like these things are a randomized representative sample of the cruelty of the universe, rather than what they are, which is a list of things so unusually terrible they made the news. I realize that this is part of an effort to remain impartial so that the viewer can decide how they feel about events, but it's also disturbingly normative. Yes, everything is on fire, everything is always on fire, this is nothing new. 

I can't say I'm any more enamored of the opposite, either, the more recent style where the news anchor's entire job is to tell you that entirety of human existence is awful and here's what you should prioritize being afraid of this week. Everything around you is on fire, the fire is racing right at you, and here's whose fault the fire is.

A lot of Americans, especially younger ones, have taken to getting their news mostly from political satire because-- well, one, because for about the past twenty years, our comedians have been better at fact-checking than our actual newsrooms. You can thank Jon Stewart for getting a bee in his bonnet over that. But also because their coverage of major issues takes neither of those paths. The Daily Show alumni write up stories like they actually live on the planet they're reporting from. You're on fire? They're on fire too! Holy shit, let's all find some water! 

The conceit behind the comedy of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report and Full Frontal and Last Week Tonight and now the monologues on The Late Show is not that this is a normal amount of fire for everything to be on so it's fine, nor establishing that someone has set you on fire on purpose and here's who should be punished for it. It's bewilderment and frustration at the way we somehow keep catching on fire over and over again. Yeah, they crack jokes, because it's their job, but all the jokes are predicated on the idea that this is, above all, just very, very, inexplicably stupid. We can, and we should, be better than this. And the hosts stubbornly refuse to just give up and internalize as immutable all the reasons why we aren't.

You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Jon Stewart has accumulated "fuck you" money from his time on The Daily Show, among other things. I really hope the rest of them are doing the same. Because we need some figureheads who are able to say "fuck you" to a lot of authority figures right now without having to worry about how their family is going to survive the next month. John Oliver has HBO backing and I'm pretty sure Last Week Tonight has roughly equal budgets set aside for handling lawsuits and shoveling money at charity. Stephen Colbert has been insulting Donald Trump as hard as he possibly can since day one, and he just re-upped until 2023. Samantha Bee has her husband holding the camera to shoot her monologues out in the woods. 

They've all figured out how to produce their show over the internet, so at least we have something to watch in the After Times.

I really hope the neighbors run out of fireworks soon. Aside from not wanting the neighborhood to be literally on fire at any point, one of my housemates has a dog, and the dog has epilepsy, so this has been an interesting evening. Sorry about the fireworks, sorry about the camera, sorry about the country, sorry about the state of the world. Imma go find my Xanax. G'night.

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[grimweaver]

                                                            ~*~

           Lucien leaned back again and closed his eyes as he sipped his tea, with a hum going out with a long and low exhale through his nostrils. After some time of wrapping his head around this revelation, within the uncomfortable silence that fell between us, his eyes shot open and stared up at me over the rim of his cup, ablaze and sharp with anticipation for a further explanation.

           I wet my lips and heaved out the rest:

           “On the 16th of Sun’s Dawn, Year 409, father attended a Hearts Day Celebration at Castle Cheydinhal. It had been seven years since we lost mother to an untimely death— from a respiratory illness that she had developed as a consequence of prolonged confinement in the coal mines of Eastmarch during a Fighters Guild quest. Being a widow and single father for that long was beginning to weigh his spirits down, so he went with the innocent intention of finding someone who would make a good wife and mother. All was well and promising for a while, but it took a horrible turn near the end. While he was in the library, conversing with the countess, he blacked out. For a time, the only thing he could recall happening after that was waking up in one of the guest rooms… lying next to the still sleeping Llathasa.”

           Lucien responded with another low, growling noise into his tea as he sipped it again.

           “After a great deal of agonizing and trying to figure out how the hell it all happened, father left for home that very morning. During the trip back, he started to remember some things that happened between the library and waking up— that he was overcome by what he called a ‘waking dream’—though fully conscious, all reason and fear of consequences left him, responding only to his… um…  attraction to Llathasa. It became clear to him that, during this event, someone must’ve slipped something into one of the wine barrels that altered the minds of all who consumed it—Sanguine mischief most likely, since that prince of sexual deviousness has his goons cause chaos of that nature on Hearts Day every year.”

           “Sounds like a logical conclusion to me,” he heaved, sitting up straight to eat from his plate with the usual aristocratic grace. His brow sank over his puzzled eyes. “Where was Andel all that time?”

           “I have no idea. Obviously, wherever he was, it was not where he could’ve intervened or discovered them together. Anyway… I’m sure you’ve done the math in your head already, but that was roughly nine months before Farwil was born. During that time, father avoided Castle Cheydinhal out of fear and guilt, but was compelled to return when we received the ‘exciting’ announcement that Lady Llathasa was finally with child, and that we were invited to stay in the castle to be a part of the celebration of his birth. Knowing that he was the real father of the child, he insisted on being there, no matter how awkward it was going to be for him or Llathasa. It was his son.”

           “I understand the compulsion, but if I were in his boots I would not’ve brought my children with me. What if Andel knew and had his guards ready to ambush and send him to the executioner’s block?”

           “He was assured that he didn’t. Llathasa included a secret message in the invitation that was sent out to him. It said: ‘He’s your son. Andel doesn’t know’.”

           “Hmm… and how did you come to know all of this?”

           “I overheard a conversation between him and my eldest sister, Ruthandra. It was on the evening we returned from one of our visits with the Indarys family. Thirst woke me up, and as I went downstairs to fetch water from the well, I was stopped by their voices; there was a tension in them that piqued my interest, so I stopped and listened carefully as he spilled it all out. I was old enough to put a few pieces of the conversation that I heard together and understand that he had fathered Farwil.” I stopped to soothe my dry and tightened throat with more tea. “I remember just sitting there at the bottom of the stairs and staring out the window of the back door, just trying to comprehend what I had just heard. By the time I had realized father was about to walk right past me, on his way to his bedroom, it was too late to scamper up the stairs unnoticed. When he inquired about why I was up so late, I told him it was for water and admitted that I had overheard what he told Ruthandra. He wasn’t happy about it, but he answered me truthfully when I asked if Farwil is our little brother—leaving out explicit details, of course. He told me that Andel should never suffer the knowledge of the truth, so that he may remain until his last breath in blissful belief that his wife had bedded with no other man and Farwil is his flesh-and-blood son. He made me promise to keep it a family secret, and I have for over twenty years. You’re the first person I’ve shared this with.” I reached down to grab more snacks from the plate, but it was completely empty— I had been absently munching on them throughout the whole story. Catching my breath after exhausting my voice, I just went quiet for a while and waited for him to reply.

   “Malkhai,” he said, looking directly into my eyes with deep sincerity. “I promise that this secret will be safe with me. And… don’t you fret any about breaking the promise to your father. It’s like you said—it is a family secret. You and I are family.”

           I smiled weakly. “I wish I could say it makes me feel better. But there are still anxious thoughts about Andel—he’s never confronted me about it but… it’s so obvious that he at least knows that Farwil was fathered by someone else. My theory is that, before understanding the situation, he performed the Black Sacrament to have a Llathasa’s accident staged by a Dark Brotherhood assassin, which is why he is now bound to a lifelong obligation to us.” I leaned forward and looked directly into his eyes. “Would I be correct... Lucien ?”

           The corner of his mouth stretched into a sinister grin as he narrowed his eyes and chuckled, “It would certainly seem to be the case, wouldn’t it?” He laced his fingers together over his wide, toothy smile as he chuckled again, “As much as I would like to take credit for that work, I must be honest and say that I was not involved in her death… none of our Brothers or Sisters were, in fact.”

           “But… then for whom did Andel perform the Black Sacrament?”

           “A political rival, and that’s all I’m going to say.” Lucien’s brow sank again, struck by the memory of what was said back in Taneth. “Hmmm… but I do wonder… thinking back on what Farwil said about Llathasa lamenting at the chapel… if it was all an accident, why would she say she had ‘hurt a friend in a way she feared can never be forgiven’?”

           “That confuses me too,” I said. “At this point, the only way we’ll ever know is if I unearth more of those private letters or father can explain it himself… if I ever find him.” A sudden dreadful thought entered my mind, twisting knots in my chest. With much reluctance, I asked Lucien “Please tell me… did the Dark Brotherhood make my father disappear?”

           Lucien shook his head immediately, looking straight into my eyes again as he said “I swear to all the Powers of the Void, we were not involved in his disappearance either.”

           “Oh good!!” I breathed out with a sigh of relief. “Because that would’ve made things even more complicated than they already are.” I pondered a little while, scratching my chin. “Still, it doesn’t rule out the possibility of Andel’s involvement.” I grinned, then flirtatiously folded my arms under my chest and leaned inward. “Gee… I sure wish I knew someone who could do some thorough, investigative work in the castle to find any clues that would either confirm or deny that theory. I’ll be sure to make it worth the effort and risk, once I am in a... position to do so.”

           "Considering what he'll risk," Lucien replied, taking in a deep breath and hiding a bashful grin behind his cup as he sipped more tea. “That someone would have to consult his superior first, I'm sure… but this matter must be set aside for now. We need to keep our focus on our current task.”

           “Right… which means that we need to get adequate sleep soon,” I looked over at the large bed in the corner, through the protective rail made with scrapped Ayleid doors, torturing myself with a vision of us between those silky red sheets.

           “Yes. I suppose, since it's already well past midnight, I'll have to let you go back to the guildhall.” Lucien replied. He then followed my gaze and read the longing in it well, then said with an aggravated sigh, “You know how much I wish I could ask you to stay.”

           “I do, but I know why you cannot. But... as much as I disagree with the reasoning, I will respect it.”

           “Thank you. I can’t say that I don’t share your frustration, but you need to understand the Listener’s restrictions as a necessary measure. In the past, our enemies have gone as far as marrying a member of the Black Hand in order to infiltrate the organization, and have done so successfully multiple times. Also, there is the concern of a relationship opening the doors of favoritism and manipulation. The Listener needs to know that it is through your own talents and skills that you have achieved high ranks and rewards, not because I gave you an unfair advantage.”

           “The marriage part I understand just fine, but not even being allowed to... “ I shook my head and grumbled. “I’m sorry, but I think that’s insane.”

           Lucien heaved a heavy, gravely breath as he shot me a warning glare.

           "And... um... I'm just going to stop there... before I say anything else I'll probably regret," I said, averting my eyes as I stood up.

           “Wise decision.” He replied, rising also and fetching my bag and cowl for me.

           “So... um… what are you going to tell the Listener if he asks you why you chose me to play the student?” I asked him.

           “The truth, of course: you’re strong enough to bear the weight of all those metal pieces, and you’re the only one that possesses the right... hmm… aesthetic qualities .” He answered—heaving a gravely, longing breath. I could almost feel his touch as he eyed me up and down, and it sent another fiery wave through my body.

           We then departed the way we had greeted— with some uneasiness, he slowly closed the short distance between us and placed his hands upon my shoulders. This time the kisses he gave each cheek were a little longer, and he couldn’t resist taking the perfume in again as he kissed the left check. He tilted his head slightly to the right, almost giving into the temptation to kiss my lips. With his mouth only a couple inches away from mine, he half-whispered: “Rest well, Malkhai .”

           “You too, Lucien ,” I replied with a slightly trembling voice.

           LaChance opened the door and bowed his head as I left through it, putting the cowl back on and pulling the handle of the bag over my shoulder. I turned around for one last exchange of smiles, without a further word, and exited the apartment building.

           The streets were still crowded, but since the vendors were closed there was less resistance in the straight path from Sisters of the Sands to the Mages Guildhall— I just had to be extra mindful of my steps because of all the garbage and pools of drunkard heaves on the ground. As unpleasant as it was, I would take waste hazard maze over the uncomfortable situation that awaited me at the guildhall. Even if he had declared that he had no authority over me, arousing Farwil’s anger could have terrible consequences for everyone else.

           The tension inside cooled when it seemed like everyone had retired to their respective sleeping quarters and were well into their sleep. But, no more than a few seconds after ease washed over me, I heard a voice growl from the black shadows of the wide hallway: “Where the hell have you been??”

End of Part XIII

[holosoftheoldrepublic]

Starting Over

          Tawa-ret paced her Dromund Kaas apartment, walking from one end of the hall to the other as she contemplated her life.

          Once, she had thought she had everything figured out. She was her family’s ticket to legitimacy in the Empire. Aliens were not well regarded in the Empire, but her family had done well enough, amassing an influential trade empire. She’d grown up with everything... except the respect of her human and Sith peers.

          And then one day, during a social party in which she had been so bored, a Sith Lord had noticed that she was force sensitive. She’d had no idea how Tawa-ret had gone so long without being noticed until then, and immediately scheduled to have her enrolled in the academy. The War with the Republic had taken its toll on the Sith, and they were eager to take in anyone who was force sensitive, even an alien. Her family had, of course, been positively thrilled. A Sith Lord in the family would grant them the prestige they so sorely desired, although it never seemed to occur to them that she might fail and die.

          Not that it had been a concern. She’d proven immensely powerful, so much so that an Overseer on Korriban had fast-tracked her training in a power bid... one that he’d lost, but she’d come out on top of.

          Tawa-ret supposed that she had him to thank for her current status as the Emperor’s Wrath. Thank, and curse, for the title was like ashes in her mouth.

          She had won. Baras was dead, she was among the most powerful of the Sith, and yet... and yet...

          Glass shattered as she punched a window with a feral scream, a vain attempt to ventilate the anguish boiling beneath her breast ever since the transponder station. She kicked the baseboard with a less passionate cry and stalked away from the broken window, a fine metaphor for her life, dripping blood on the floor as she made her way to the bathroom.

          “Is everything alright out there?” Came Byz’s voice from the room over. “Tawa?”

          “I’m fine, Byz,” she flatly assured her friend, opening the bathroom cabinet for the tweezers. It turned out that having glass stuck in your hand really hurt.

          “Are you sure? I heard glass break and you scream—your hand is bleeding!”

          The diminutive pureblood rushed over to Tawa, completely ignoring her insistence that she was fine don’t worry about it and grabbing her arm to take a closer look. “What are you doing punching glass?” Byz scolded, and Tawa felt the manipulation of the Force around her hand, pushing out the shards and mending the cuts. “Honestly, sometimes I think you live up to your “Wrath” title a little too well!”

          Tawa glowered at the wall, pretending that she was annoyed at her friend’s meddling, but honestly she just didn’t want to look at the ring gracing Byz’s left hand. “You worry yourself too much,” she said. “Don’t you have more important things to be concerning yourself, Darth Oculus?”

          Byz rolled her eyes. She hated that name. “If Marr ever has a child, he is not allowed to name it. We’ll send Kalaheo in to distract him, and Isebaas can discreetly put a proper name on the registry.”

          “Instead of worrying about a hypothetical child of another person maybe you should focus on having a family of your own?” Suggested Tawa, not quite able to keep the acid out of her voice.

          Byz frowned, looking hurt. “What’s gotten you so tetchy?”

          Tawa sighed, sitting heavily down on the edge of the bathtub. “Sorry, sorry... you don’t deserve that, you’ve done nothing wrong.” It’s not your fault that you’re married and happy and I’m... anything but. “I just need some Jedi to punch and I’ll probably feel better. Or maybe sex.”

          “What, is cheating on your boyfriend with that black ops soldier of yours not doing it for you anymore?” asked Byz, and she definitely didn’t try to hide the acidity there. They’d already had this conversation, and Tawa wasn’t exactly keen on repeating it.

          “I haven’t slept with Pierce for weeks, if you must know, and it’s hardly ‘cheating’ when Quinn and I are... on a break.” Even though the break was her idea, it still hurt to say it out loud.

          “Tawa, it’s been months,” said Byz, exasperated. “You’re obviously no closer to trusting Quinn than you were before. Break up with him.”

          “It’s not that simple, Byz...”

          “You cannot honestly be telling me you’re still in love with him?” Byz snapped, arms crossed. “He tried to kill you, remember? I find it a miracle that you even let him live, never mind this... shallow pretense of a relationship. You can’t bear to let him touch you; you have nightmares about him trying to kill you in bed—”

          “Yes, Byz, I’m quite aware as I’m the one who told you,” Tawa interrupted, rubbing her temples. “I know it’s stupid. I know I should just end the relationship and have Quinn reassigned somewhere. Force knows he’d do well wherever he went.”

          “Well, maybe not assassinations.”

          “Cute.”

          “So why haven’t you, then?”

          “Because I don’t want to,” she said stubbornly. “Because in spite of everything, I still love him. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t feel the same if Andronikos tried to kill you?”

          “If Andronikos tried to kill me he’d be dead.”

          “What happened to the cute little Sith who was all baby-eyed and innocent that I met on Vaiken Spacedock?” Tawa complained.

          “She grew up,” Byz replied flatly. “Love isn’t enough to sustain a relationship, Tawa. If there’s no trust, there can’t be a relationship. You tried to salvage it and failed. End it, mourn the loss of a relationship, and move on.”

          Tawa sighed, again. “I’ll think about it.”

          “Maybe try thinking a little harder.”

*   *  *

           Quinn quickly read through the report on his holopad, using peripheral vision and luck to navigate the streets of Dromund Kaas as he did so. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the streets were crowded with activity, but he managed not to run into someone, which on the capital of the Empire could prove fatal, if you bumped into the wrong person.

          There was much to be done, and little time to do it. With the pressing matters of an Imperial working for a Sith Lord, he was quite distracted, as otherwise he would have noticed the two men flanking him, blocking off his escape path as a woman stepped in front of him.

           “Captain Malavai Quinn, you are to come with me,” she said crisply, hands clasped behind her, back straight, and Quinn couldn’t help but admire her posture. “Darth Oculus has requested your presence at once.”

           Byz? What could she possibly want? Quinn frowned, feeling a chill creeping up the back of his neck. Something’s not right here. “As honoured as I am that she wishes to see me, I am unfortunately tied up with business to the Emperor’s Wrath, so if you will excuse me...”

           One of the men grabbed his arm as he tried to back away, stopping him short. “Darth Oculus insists,” he said flatly, with a decidedly non-Imperial accent, and a closer look showed faint scarring on his neck and face that looked like the ritualistic slave scars some Sith Lords put on their slaves.

           “Be gentle, we wouldn’t want to cause an incident, would we?” The woman said, raising a cautionary hand to the man, and the movement briefly revealed a lightsaber hidden beneath the jacket she swore.

           He had thought his kidnappers — as it was becoming clear that that was what was happening — were military, but he now realised that they were, in fact, Sith.

           “Well, if she insists,” he said, “then I suppose I should endeavor not to disappoint.”

           A tight smile from the woman in front of him. “Indeed not.”

*  *  *

           Darth Oculus — it was still difficult to think of her that way; he’d known her as Byz for so long, her friendship with Tawa-ret predating his service to her — was seated behind a large, ominous-looking desk, artifacts and ancient texts stacked haphazardly all over, leaving only enough space for the computer that she was working on. The ruffian she’d made the baffling decision to marry was lounging at a table behind her, looking to be reading something off a datapad.

           “My Lord, Malavai Quinn, as summoned,” the woman announced.

           “I believe that he’s a Captain, Sorvei,” Byz said absently, not looking up from her work. “We do not wish to cause an incident with the military. Be sure to use the appropriate titles.”

           “My apologies, my Lord,” said Sorvei, bowing.

           “It’s alright, Sorvei; this particular Imperial isn’t worth worrying about,” she said, looking up, and Quinn could see more than a little hostility in her eyes. “Leave us.”

           Sorvei bowed again, then turned sharply on her heel and left the office, hitting a button so that it closed behind her.

           “Andronikos?” The pirate looked up at the mention of his name. “Could you please step outside, as well? This is a private matter.”

           He rose an eyebrow, but didn’t press the matter. “Alright. I’ll be just outside if you need me,” he said. He spared Quinn a curious look as he walked past, but said nothing.

           The door hissed open and shut behind him, and Byz leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.

           “You wished to see me, my Lord?” Quinn said, giving a polite bow.

           “I would be quite happy to never have to see you again,” she said flatly, and he winced. “You have caused an irredeemable amount of harm to my best friend, something I will never forgive you for.”

           “No less than what I deserve,” he agreed quietly.

           “So you say, and yet you insist on compounding the injury by staying,” said Byz.

           “Lord Tawa-ret wishes that I remain...”

           “Yes, because she is under the delusion that there is something salvageable between the two of you,” she snapped, and Quinn felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the same time the lights in the room flickered, and he was filled with a sense of dread. She took a deep breath, leaning back into the chair, and the oppressive feeling faded, although he could still feel it lingering quietly in the background. “Tawa doesn’t have the heart to do what needs to be done. You have that ability.”

           “And what would that be, My Lord?”

           “Dump her,” she said, blunt. “Take the step that she won’t, end this useless charade, so that she can properly grieve for the relationship and then move on.”

           Quinn’s lips thinned, and he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “With all due respect, My Lord, this is hardly any of your business,” he said, gripping his hands behind his back.

           “Let me put this another way, Quinn,” said Byz. “I’m a Dark Council member. I have a great deal of power at my disposal. Unless you want to be found three days dead in a ditch, I suggest you do what I say.”

           “Are you actually threatening me — ”

           “Sorvei, can you please show the Captain on his way?” Byz said through the intercom at her desk, talking over him completely. “Our business is finished.”

           “My Lord — ”

           “Good day, Quinn,” she said, as Sorvei entered the room. “Think about what I said.”

           With that, he was quickly ushered out of Byz’s office, and just as quickly out of the Citadel, left with a curt bow to find his own way back.

           “Wonderful,” he muttered under his breath. “Perfect.”

           As he made his way to the shuttles, he pondered on what to do. While Byz was softer than one would assume a Sith would be, she still had the capacity for hard decisions, and cruelty if pushed too hard. He had no doubt she would make good on her threat.

           He had no desire to terminate his relationship with Tawa-ret, however he couldn’t help but agree with Byz’s assertion that something had to be done about the current state of said relationship. He’d been giving Tawa-ret space, letting her come to terms with his unforgiveable betrayal at her own pace, but if it was causing her that much pain...

           Quinn paid the fare for a shuttle, and as it chauffeured him back to the markets, an idea began to form.

*  * *

           Tawa drummed her fingers on the cafe table, trying (and failing) to concentrate on the words on the datapad in front of her. The Emperor’s Wrath had things to do, but she was having a hard time caring about, far more concerned about other matters.

           Those other matters being the location of Quinn, who was 10 minutes late for their meeting. That man is absurdly punctual, to the point of madness, what could possibly be keeping him? She sighed, absently scrolling through the datapad. Her thoughts were always consumed by him. Sith used their emotions to fuel them, and passion and the like were common ones, but if that passion only resulted in indecision, what use was it? Maybe Byz is right...

           Not that she would ever tell her friend that, of course.

           “Excuse me, my Lord,” came a familiar voice, “but could I be so bold as to sit with you?”

           Tawa looked up, seeing Quinn standing beside her — and it was very telling of her current mental state, that she hadn’t sensed him before — and looking every bit the careful, doting Imperial.

           “Quinn, why on the Empire would it be bold to sit with me?” She asked.

           “It’s very bold for an Imperial to request to sit with a Sith Lord he doesn’t know, wouldn’t you say?”

           “So... what, are we doing a role-play where we don’t know each other?”

           “Precisely.”

           “... Quinn, what is this about?” Tawa asked, baffled. Not to be unkind to the man, but Quinn was hardly the imaginative sort, and he had always been quite resistant to any sort of “livening up” she introduced to their sex life.

           He took that as an invitation to sit down — which she hardly minded, and it was annoying to have to look up at him anyways — and steepled his fingers. “It has come to my attention that we... cannot continue, as we are now,” he said slowly. “Our relationship... it’s not where it should be. Not in the slightest. Which, of course, is entirely on me, I understand that.

           “My mistake was in not appropriately trying to address it. You said, after the... incident... that you didn’t know who I was anymore,” he explained. “I was like a stranger to you.”

           “Yes, I do remember this conversation, Quinn,” Tawa said mildly.

           “Please let me finish, My Lord,” he said, and Tawa raised an eyebrow. For Quinn, that was downright rude. “I had thought that the best course of action was to let you work on it on your own pace, to let you come to me when you were ready to. However, for a relationship, it takes both parties working together to fix things, and I foolishly, stupidly neglected my half of it. If you didn’t know who I was, I should have made myself known.”

           “So your idea is to... what, start over?” She asked. “Forget everything that’s happened and start again?”

           Quinn shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t be possible,” he said. “What I’m suggesting is that we... rebuild.”

           “That sounds a lot like starting over, Quinn.”

           He shook his head again. “Think of a relationship like... a building, built between the two people in it,” he explained. “Ours was bad from the start, with a flimsy foundation. Cracks form, it crumbled... it wasn’t up to code. What we need to do... if you are willing... is to tear down that building and rebuild, learning from our... my mistakes. To build a stronger relationship.”

           Tawa was quiet, thinking. What he said made a sort of sense, she supposed. And, really... what did they truly know about each other? She knew hardly anything about his personal life that didn’t involve her, who his family was, his friends, his history. She barely even knew his likes and dislikes; she’d had weekend flings that she’d known better than him. And what did he know of her? He most likely knew who her family was, where she’d gotten her education, all that statistical stuff, but she’d never actually talked to him about her home life, the things she’d done before she’d become a Sith. She was fairly certain he didn’t even know she was bi, for mercy’s sake.

           You could easily make the argument that this relationship was doomed to fail from the start, she thought, watching Quinn fidget slightly as he waited for her response. That was mostly her fault, as much as Quinn wanted to take the blame for everything. She’d never been one for commitment, and hadn’t expected the relationship with him to be any different, and she had pushed him into the relationship, after all.

           Power imbalances, ignorance, secrets... a shaky foundation, indeed. Were they any better now?

           She slid a thumb along the edge of the datapad. “If an Imperial were to be so bold as to approach a Sith Lord,” she said slowly, “he should offer to pay for lunch.”

           He looked confused at first, before realisation dawned and an expression of pure relief crossed his face, the tension he’d been holding in his body releasing as he laughed slightly. “Of course, My Lord,” he agreed, the fingers of one hand lightly brushing hers. “How foolish of me, to forget myself.”

           “I’ll forgive your mistake on account of you being so cute,” she said, letting herself take his hand in hers, the one betrayal of their little act.

           “I hope to be of better service than just my looks, My Lord.”

[captainmazzic]

In Which There Is A Bit Of A Side Story Involving Jedi Master Heilon, And How He Came To Be At The Tribunal.

(This is the start of a short story detailing how Burdock Heilon came to meet Darth Aranea and a few other Sith, and culminated in him being invited by Aranea to observe the Enclave of the Sith Tribunal. I’m trying not to make it very long, probably only like two or three chapters, but I’m going to write it out in its entirety before posting it on AO3. Here’s the first few bits, because I was entertained and wanted to share).

“The other name was Cinaede?”

The agent nodded. “That is what Master Braga said. The Sith that was holding Master Ikalruq hostage mentioned a Darth Gallus and Darth Cinaede for exchange. When pressed for a single trade, he selected Darth Gallus.” She scrolled through her datapad, scanning for the relevant information. “Darth Gallus is apparently a Rodian Sith that Argent Legion picked up a few months back, Unit Jenth I think. He’s young, mouthy, and stupid, according to his interrogators. Nothing special. Stars know why this... Darth Belus... Sith picked him to return over the other.” She tapped the edge of her datapad. “But it looks like this Darth Cinaede is the same as the Cinaedus that Unit Peth picked up ages ago. Sith Assassin. Only got caught on the job because their target was in a house that caught on fire due to an entirely unrelated arson. Getting them in was ugly, if the report was anything to go by. They kept… ‘shifting around’, report says. They’re some kind of morphing amphibian. Eliminated Unit Osk single-handedly, and half of Unit Peth, before Peth managed to bring them down. I’m surprised they brought them in alive.”

Jedi Master Burdock Heilon leaned back in his chair and motioned for the datapad. “That is the purpose of these acquisitions, Agent Basrel. And one of Argent Legion’s major directives. To collect Sith alive for purging and interrogation.”

“I understand that, sir.” She shrugged as she handed him the datapad. “But if it had been my unit, I would have deemed them too dangerous to hold. Alive, that is. According to our sources, they’re one of the Sith’s best infiltrators and assassins.”

Heilon nodded as he inspected the screen. “We’ve had them in custody for…. How long now?”

“Eighteen Coruscanti months.”

“Have they cracked?”

“Not unless you mean jokes. Hasn’t given even a millimeter to our interrogators. Suggests tea parties and interior décor options instead. They’ve been driving our team mad.”

Heilon snorted and tossed the datapad onto his desk. “I think it’s time we started playing hardball with this one. There has to be a reason this Darth Belus wanted this particular assassin released. We’ll never know why he wanted Gallus, what’s done is done, but perhaps we can figure out why Cinaede is so important. Cinaedus. Whatever.” He slid his chair back and got to his feet, brushing imaginary lint off of his uniform. “Have the assassin transferred to Coruscant immediately, Agent Basrel. I will take over their interrogation personally.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * * * * * * *

The high security transport ship hissed and beeped as its landing thrusters aligned with the docking pad, deep inside the massive spike of a prison tower that functioned as a receiving area for high-risk prisoners. Burdock Heilon stood beside Agent Basrel with his hands clasped behind his back, patiently waiting for the two dozen guards to disembark with their dangerous cargo centered among them. Darth Cinaedus was bound hand and foot within a stasis field upon a repulsorlift, eyes blindfolded, mouth gagged, and ears plugged. Four guards stood at each corner of the lift with blasters trained perpetually on the immobile figure as the others guided the lift down the massive hall that led to the depths of the prison.

Heilon fell into step behind the elaborate escort, and raised an eyebrow down at Agent Basrel. “This Cinaedus is… er…”

She smirked. “Tiny little thing, eh?”

“Certainly not what I expected.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t you study the files?”

He shrugged. “I read them, yes. End to end. Several times. But once you’ve seen one Sith, you’ve seen them all. Species doesn’t matter much once they are tainted by the Dark Side. I didn’t bother looking at their picture.”

Agent Basrel pursed her lips. “Oh, well then. You’re in for a few surprises then, I guess. I have some red tape to wrap up about finalizing the transfer, so I’ll check in later. Enjoy meeting your new Sith, Master Heilon. This one is… this one’s an interesting one.” She steepled her fingers to her chest before veering to the side and down a hall branching off of the main walkway.

Heilon shook his head at her retreating form and chuckled to himself. “Just one Sith. How interesting can they be?”

* * * * * * * *

The interrogation room was like any other. No windows and black floors, ceiling, and walls, with garish lighting and an ambient temperature just a few degrees too cool for whatever species it was trying to currently contain. A single bench in the same matte black ran the length of the back wall, just a little too narrow for an average-sized humanoid to be comfortable. On that bench the guards had placed Darth Cinaede – or Cinaedus, honestly Master Heilon still had no idea which one was the typo and which one was the actual name – and now those guards had just removed the blindfold, ear plugs, and gag. They took a step back to give Heilon some room, and he pulled up a rolling chair he had swiped from the receiving desk outside. “Greetings, Sith. I am Jedi Master Burdock Heilon. I will be functioning as your new interrogator.”

The strange amphibious Sith sitting before him flicked narrowed eyes up and down his form before breaking out into a wide smile. A gravely voice echoed his name in peppy tones. “Good morning, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon.”

Heilon smirked. “And how would you know whether it is morning or not? You have had no shred of contact with the outside world for the entire length of time you have been in custody.”

The narrowed eyes widened slowly to take up nearly half of the Sith’s face. “Oh, it’s always morning here on the Republic’s sunny and glorious capital world, the crown jewel of the galaxy, the beautiful and illustrious Coruscant. The suns never set on the grandeur of the Republic, after all.” Their voice rose into a higher, musical chirp. “Pleasure to meet you, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon, member of the Jedi Council, patron of Argent Legion. I’m Darth Cinaede. I suppose I have you to thank for having your division kidnap me in the first place.”

Heilon scoffed. “You were hardly kidnapped. You were apprehended on a botched assassination attempt, and have remained our prisoner ever since.”

“Successful.”

“What?”

Cinaede shrugged. “A successful assassination attempt. I killed my target, thank you very much. It was Senator Garrumn’s house catching on fire that was the botched attempt. I guess her constituents weren’t too happy with her either, if they were willing to resort to arson. I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to play politics, anyway. Why was a Jedi playing senator in the first place?”

A swift flick of Heilon’s hand and Cinaede flinched as though hit. He scowled and leaned forward in his chair. “That is enough out of you. I am your interrogator, not the other way around.”

He only received a lopsided grin in return. “Whatever you say, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon. You know, that’s really long. I’m gonna have to give you a nickname.”

Heilon ignored their jaunty words. “You say your name is Cinaede?” He waved over one of the guards. “Make sure we correct that in the records. There is an error regarding the name of this Sith.”

Cinaede’s head tilted to one side. “You got my name wrong? Seriously?”

Heilon again made a flick with his hand and clapped Cinaede’s mouth shut with the Force. “You appear as both Cinaede and Cinaedus in our records.”

“Mm-hmph.”

Heilon sighed and released his hold in the Force on their jaw. “What?”

“I said, that’s right.”

“…What?”

An enormous eye roll. “Cinaede is my name.” Those eyes suddenly narrowed as Cinaede’s jaw thickened and squared, and once again a gravely voice reached Heilon’s ears. “So is Cinaedus. They’re both me.”

Heilon blinked. “…Ah.” He turned to the guard and raised a finger as if to correct what he had just told her, but turned back to his prisoner instead. “Are you…”

Cin’s head tilted to the other side this time. “Seriously? Pixies of Patitite Pattuna, did I seriously get stuck with the one Jedi in the entire galaxy who’s never met an id-shifter?”

Heilon shook his head rapidly. “Of course I have, I just – ” he pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a slow breath. “Alright. So you’re an id-shifter. And obviously of one of the few species that is actually able to physically morph as well.”

“I’m lucky like that.” Cin’s bright smile returned. “And depending on which records you’re looking at, my species is called Lowen or Shaull. Look us up sometime. That’s about all the info you’ve got floating around on us. Homeworld’s labeled wrong too. Guess mucking up names runs in the fam.” They leaned back against the stark wall behind them. “I’ll make it easy on you, though, at least regarding me. You’ll know when I’m Cinaede and when I’m Cinaedus. I’m usually Cinaede, but I’m really not picky about pronouns. You can call me Cin for short regardless, it’s much easier that way. Just don’t call me Cinny. Classmates tried that when I was a wee acolyte. Didn’t work out for them. Pity, I was the only one who survived graduation that year.”

Heilon nodded as he pinched the skin between his eyes harder. “…Right.”

Cin’s smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “I am going to make your life so, so much harder, HeiHei. Can I call you HeiHei? Thanks. This is the blossoming of a beautiful friendship, HeiHei, I can tell.”

Heilon’s only response was an already-weary glance up at the guard, who he swore was trying very hard not to laugh behind her helmet.

* * * * * * * *

[scripturienss]

Deuces

Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me and neither do the X-Men. Might be completely ooc from the superheroes you may know and expect.

Title: Deuces on FF.net. Rating: G Genre: Drama/Romance Prompt: Superheroes AU Word Count: 2,202

I don't gamble but if I did, I would bet on us.

"Dead Sea", The Lumineers

The first time they meet, a bomb sets off to her right, nearly deafening her.

The first time they meet, a bomb sets off to her right, nearly deafening her.

"Out of the way!"

It's a full-blown battle and her teammates are running, flying around her and tearing the city to the ground. She grabs hold of the first non-friend near her; there is a flash of light, so many images, so much anger and passion, and so much cold. Then there is nothing. She stands, eyes glowing white and creates a snowstorm around them that steals the air from everyone's lungs, all warmth gone from their limbs. Sora joins in and together, they manage to subdue the chaos around them just long enough to draw back.

The professor says it's important to know when to pull back from a battle already won, but Mimi resents not being able to finish it once and for all. They don't deserve this momentary peace.

.

.

Sora doesn't like anything about him. From the way he walks, too quietly, always brooding, to the way he talks in that low, sweet voice and how his French slips in every now and then. Mimi watches him from a safe distance in the library while he sits under her favourite oak tree, seemingly harmless. From here, he looks just like any other guy in the academy, he could be anyone and do anything. Perhaps, from here, he isn't the assassin she knows him to be though that possibility doesn't stop her from being angry, too.

The object of her current irritation enters the room and Mimi doesn't turn around when he asks, "Are you going to keep ignoring me?"

She can hear the anger in the way he's breathing so heavily through his nostrils. The thought brings her immense pleasure.

"Mimi, he's a friend."

"He tried to kill us," she tells him, fixing him with a stare. "Nearly damn succeeded, too."

Ryo frowns and she can almost believe him to be flustered. The years and scars have hardened his face and he hasn't shaved in a while. Sometimes she wonders how she could ever find him attractive but then, there are so few men that don't run away when met with her...

"He's not a bad guy," is the only thing he says. Mimi stands quietly and slips by him, half-waiting for him to flinch away from her touch. He doesn't, but then again, she doesn't touch him either.

.

.

"I have the strangest feeling you don't like me much."

"I didn't know you were telepathic, too. Mimi, did you know?"

Mimi glances uneasily at Sora, frowning. She's usually much nicer, the sweetest person Mimi has ever met but old habits die hard and this guy had a very good shot at blowing Sora's boyfriend to bits and pieces. You don't forget a thing like that so easily, no matter whose side you say you're on.

"I'm sorry," he says, sneering. "You weren't giving me much of a choice, you know."

"I'm going to find Taichi. You're staying?"

Mimi looks alarmed. "I'll be there in a minute." Sora leaves without another word and Mimi sighs. "She'll come around," she offers, despite not entirely believing her own words. "You did shoot at him."

He considers her for a moment and Mimi struggles not to break eye contact. He's handsome, not like Taichi, who is rugged and a bit rough; his features are delicate, would be almost too pretty if it weren't for the scars and the eerie, unnatural blue of his eyes. Mimi thinks it must be hard, having people always avert your eyes.

"What about you?"

She pouts. It's not his fault, she thinks, that Ryo thought it was a good idea to bring him in. His instincts are almost always right, even if the way he handles things is completely wrong. "I'm angrier at someone else at the moment, so you're good."

.

.

"So what's your power?" he asks, settling on the grass near her. He eyes her carefully, from her closed toe shoes to the pants and long sleeves, the gloves she's begun to put on the moment he approached her. "Hypersensitivity to the sunlight?"

"I'm—," she pauses, taking a small breath. He's toying with a playing card between his fingers, doing all sorts of ridiculous little tricks; it's the queen of hearts. Mimi smiles ruefully. "I'm a thief."

Gambit—that's what he calls himself these days—stops twirling the card and looks at her, smiling and she's sure she has never seen him smile before. He throws the card with scary precision into the sky and it blows up in tiny pieces, the cardboard falling around them like dry snow. "That's funny," he says, though he isn't smiling anymore. "So am I."

.

.

During the next few months, they spend a lot more time together. They train and eat together and sometimes he helps her study. Most of the time he's off on his own while Mimi attends her lessons and then he shows her a few nifty little tricks he's been working on. Sora doesn't hate him anymore and though Taichi still grumbles every now and then, she's sure he likes him more than he lets on. It's hard not to. He's quiet and polite, charming when he wants to be, clever even without trying. The professor values his input and experience and much of their success can be owed to the things he has brought and taught them.

The word 'mercenary' lingers in the air, still too raw to forget. Mimi tries not to think too much about it but sometimes she wonders, too, what kind of story he drags behind.

"Why do they call you Rogue?"

The light in the greenhouse casts a strange look on him, like a wraith or some other dream-demon of old.

"I ran away from home, left this place a couple of times," she sticks her tongue out at him. "I guess, there aren't many other things you could call me."

"I could think of a few," he says, and it's so rare to see him joke, Mimi doesn't know how to respond. So she tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him a nonchalant shrug.

"Why'd they call you Gambit?"

"It's a trick move," he answers, tilting the waterpot into the cacti she's been looking after. "And an unfortunate nickname."

.

.

A new group of students arrives late that autumn, and Mimi greets them as happily as she can. Some of them are orphans, others are runaways, like her. A few were sent in by understanding parents who figure out it's better for them to be with their kind. These are always the most miserable kids. She does her best to help them adjust to life at the institute, figure out the rules and generally keep out of harm's way. At the end of the day, despite their powers, they're still mostly children and are sometimes treated as such.

Because she's kind and rather beautiful, every now and then some boy who thinks he's too clever will try to make a pass at her. Mimi brushes them all off easily, light-heartedly; none must come to harm. But every once in a while someone will grow too bold and won't pay heed to the warnings. Accidents have happened before, it's how the rumors started.

"Hey, Rogue, check it out!"

It all happens so fast. The kid reaches out and holds fast to her wrist and suddenly Mimi's entire body is on fire. Someone screams and it takes a moment for her to realise it's her, she's screaming and Takuya is on the floor and she can see the whites in his eyes. She's so sorry but she can't stay, not here, not with him looking all but dead while flames melt down her limbs.

"Move!" she bellows and she runs, fast, away and out into the woods that surround the property. She can see flashes of his life, his family, the scent of baking bread mixes unpleasantly with the smell of charred hair, clothes and skin. Mimi stops, doubles over and throws up until her stomach is empty.

.

.

He finds her sitting on a rock, near the small pond on the eastern field of the property.

"They were all looking for you."

"How is he?"

He scratches his jaw, solemn. "A bit dazed, but he'll live. I think he's mostly embarrassed though."

"I didn't mean to do it," she murmurs, hiding her face in her arms. "He caught me off guard, I couldn't—,"

"He shouldn't have touched you," he says, so fiercely that Mimi looks up and nearly misses his expression, fogged as her eyes are. He seems to notice and runs a hand through his hair; when he turns to her all traces of it are gone and he's smiling good-naturedly. "You really are something, aren't you, chére?"

.

.

They hadn't been expecting it. One moment they were together, having dinner and the next their intercoms were buzzing and the Blackbird was loaded and ready to go. Mimi hesitates briefly but Taichi (sweet Taichi) holds on to her hand and tugs on it. "We're a team," he says, then smiles that half-smile that irritates her so much. "And you're coming with us."

They drop down on ground zero and the fight that ensues is exhausting, both terrifying and exhilarating. She's never had free range with her powers before but this time she doesn't have time to think, to plan; she takes what she needs and gives them what they deserve. She's fought Magneto before, she's not afraid to do it again and the multiple explosions that seem to follow (but never touch her) are all the reassurance she needs.

Smoke chokes her lungs and she dives away from the blast, covering her face with her arms. He's gliding towards her, so close that she can touch him so she does, she dives for him and clutches his face, there's a huge blast behind her and the rest is all dark.

.

.

His eyes are the first thing she sees when she awakes. His face, usually composed, is a mess of dirt and sweat. There's blood trickling from his left brow and his eye is completely shut. He's devastating nonetheless and she's never been happier to see him.

"Rogue?" His voice is hoarse, like he's been screaming. She's drifting back into unconsciousness and desperate, he kisses her. She gasps and falls into his outstretched arms.

Things are never the same between them again.

.

.

"You could've died," she says bitterly, sitting in the hospital ward. The harsh bright lights make him look sickly pale and this makes her heart shrink. Because she's absorbed Ryo's powers on more than one occassion, Mimi heals rather fast and is already looking a lot like her former self. He's not as lucky, still a bit mangled and wearing an eye-patch over his left eye. The other one shines as startlingly blue as the first time they met.

"But I didn't," he sighs. "I thought you'd be happier about it."

"You shouldn't have!"

"You were on the ground—!"

"I don't mean the bomb," her voice has gone uncharacteristically quiet and he hesitates only a moment before moving, carefully, to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The usual rose gold of her hair is framed by locks of silver, brighter than ever before. She flinches a little and her eyes fill with tears.

"I don't regret it. I would only hope you don't, either."

.

.

It feels so good to be touched again. His fingers (gloved, almost always gloved), lightly brush her cheeks and Mimi leans in to his touch. He bends down to place his lips on her shoulder; the kiss lingers soft and sweet and she shudders underneath his touch. They lay together like this, with him resting on her breast and tracing circles on her skin. She sighs, curling into him and placing her hand on his hair, kissing the backs of her fingers.

The psyonic imprint of his mind lingers somewhere in the back of hers, a cruel reminder of a moment that was stolen from them. He's louder than others, trembling with the sort of intensity that threatens to be overwhelming.

"What else did you see?"

"Your house, friends you have lost. The family you grew up with." She's crying again. "I'm sorry."

He rolls over to lay beside her, taking a deep breath and looking up into the ceiling. When he turns, both eyes are focused on her. "Call me by my name."

So she smiles, breathless, and he kisses her open palm. "Okay, Yamato."

.

.

"I want to kiss you."

A breathless laugh escapes her, ending in a sob that shakes her to her core. "I thought I had lost you."

"You could never lose me, chére. I couldn't bear it."

This time she does laugh and it's almost infectious, like something from his childhood he thought he had lost. His lips curl against the cloth that covers her neck and he kisses her pulse. If this moment is all they'll have, then—

"You're a prince, Ishida Yamato."

"Prince of thieves. Let's steal one more from Fate, hm?"

Notes: Part two of #digiOTPweek2k17 and a couple of observations.

1. I was already halfway done when someone pointed out this could've worked with Yamato as Rogue and Mimi as Gambit. I was tempted but upon the rewrite, I realised there were a few traits I wanted to keep and decided not to do it. I may or may not regret this decision.

2. In chess, a 'gambit' is an opening where you move a pawn that requires a sacrifice.

3. I regret so much about this piece but didn't want to miss out on the superhero fun! I'm trash.

4. The last lines are are from an actual panel from the comics and were originally what inspired me to write about them.

[galadrieljones]

Hello. As I've told u, I'm currently struggling a lot with my ongoing chapter. (Context : It's my first fic !) I was wondering whether you had some chapters of the dead season that you absolutely hated, and did you manage to come to terms with it eventually ? Luv u, xo

Hey Amburu!! (*^_^*) xoxo

First of all: Yes, yes, yes. Writing can feel like a struggle sometimes, especially when  just starting out. Part of this is because we just don’t always know what to expect out of our writing process yet, and so we’re often left wondering, “At what point will this start to feel right or finished?” It’s hard to trust ourselves, as writers, and this can be discouraging, but just like with any skill, we can’t get better unless we persevere. I like to think that writing improvement exists like a series of plateaus. It is not incremental. It’s like, you are on one plateau for a really long time, and then one day, you sort of hit critical mass. You’ve written so much, a pattern has struck. You’ve figured something out, even if it is not conscious, and suddenly, you’re just better. This process never ends.

Now, to your question: In terms of the writing process, it can take a long time and a lot of words to hit the point where you feel like you can actually trust your instincts. Or, at least it did for me. In fact, The Dead Season is my first project in which I feel like I’ve actually honed a writing process that works, and I have been writing fiction for a long, long time. Part of my writing process is experiencing a great deal of doubt, at some point in the week, as to whether or not the chapter is going to come together at all. This makes me anxious, as it would many of us, and certain chapters have made me more anxious than others. I wouldn’t say that I’ve ever hated any of my chapters themselves, but there are certainly chapters that have given me a lot of stress and self-doubt, and this is a feeling that I very much dislike.

For example, my early chapters, ie: about 1-7, feel super experimental and are very small. I’m not terribly happy with them by any stretch. But I have, over time, found small things that are working, and things that, in the long run, I actually like very much and would not change. For example, there are some rare, very strange and dark moments in the Fade, and we don’t actually go to the Fade all that often in TDS, so this is good. This is important. There are also some early seeds planted per Solas’s complex friendships with both Sera and Dorian, and Sene and Sera as well, plus Sene and Cole. These are big relationships that I was already investigating early on, and so while those chapters certainly aren’t perfect, I feel good about the fact that this has ALWAYS been a story about friendship, first and foremost, and that’s something I have not forgotten.

I’ve also accepted the fact that I was still new to the story back then and still feeling my way through and figuring out what was to come. So of course my early chapters weren’t going to be as careful and multi-layered as chapters that would come much later. This is a serial piece, which makes it feel, to me, a little like writing for TV, in terms of methodology. It took me a minute to figure out my formula, my process, my characters, but once I did, things started to take shape much more quickly and reliably.

Writing is hard, and it can be a struggle, but that is normal. The most important thing to remember, especially when writing more or less publicly, like for a fandom, is to not compare yourself and your writing to others and their writing. That is a toxic beast that we all fall prey to from time to time, but it will hamper your creativity more than anything. Also, and more practically, a lot of the time, when a chapter is causing problems, it might just be that you need to step back, locate the problem, and solve it in the quickest way possible so that you can move forward. Can’t get a transition to work? Then fuck it. Take the transition out and just put in a page break instead. Writing is sometimes just grunt work. It’s just problem-solving. Getting from point A to point B. The art we read on any brilliant page of any piece of writing we love takes many gruelling drafts to complete. It is a process. No writing comes out perfectly on the first try.

UNDER THE CUT: I go through some specific chapters in TDS that I really struggled with, mostly to give you some concrete perspective on the fact that YOU ARE NOT ALONE in your struggle to bring a chapter together. This is for anyone who’s interested!! (It was no bother and actually very productive!

Chapter 10: Hallelujah

I wrote that entire chapter while sitting on a bar stool at a cafe in my hometown in Wisconsin. I pulled a Patrick Weekes on this chapter, and it was hard, ie:  For all the Fade stuff with Sene and then Sene and Cole, I adapted the meter of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, hence the title. Looking back, it’s a little precious, per my aesthetic, but I’m glad I gave it a try and somehow made it work. It was just a blatant nod to Weekes and his brilliant writing in DA:I.

Chapter 21: It’s Raining in Val Royeaux, Chapter 22 & 23: Man of Faith, Pt. 1 & 2

These chapters were logistical nightmares. This was also my first go at using the stakes and politics of the world, plus a quest in the game, to really propel the plot AND Solas’s character forward. At first, what was so difficult, was navigating Josephine’s plan and introducing the “game” in a way that felt like it was informed by Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts without piggy-backing it completely. This would be an innocent affair. No murder, only sly quips and earning the favor of the Comte and Comtess Berrande. Plus, romance. Also, this whole thing was me building toward Solas’s diplomatic charm, which is HUGE per his history with Mythal, and then I just had to get to that scene with Blackwall like…I had been working toward that scene for weeks. So a lot was at stake. All told this was a LOT of writing, and I had a really bad head cold when I did it, and I was very very worried about these chapters for a LONG time. I still have not gone back to read them. I assume they’re okay?? Lol.

Chapter 25: The Mother We Share

This is the purple chapter, and I still think there is probably TOO MUCH purple and TOO MUCH mother imagery dumped in. This chapter took me FOREVER and was the moment I realized Solas had become too soft, and that he needed a shove in the other direction. So I had to introduce Abelas, and also, at this point, my stuff with Mythal/Flemeth disassociating began to take shape. Bleh. Thinking about this chapter feels like wading in molasses sometimes.

Chapter 30: Dust of My Dust

This chapter was hard, because it was transitional. I had to get us OUT of Crestwood, and Sene and Solas were in two different places, which had never happened before. Sometimes it is SO HARD to just get from one scene to the next. And so in the end, to save myself more pain, I ended up just splitting the chapter up into a couple separate sections and skipping the transition altogether. This was so useful that I ended up using the section format in multiple future chapters and will most certainly do it again. Half of writing is just problem-solving, it turns out.

Chapter 34: The Elves are Asleep

This is the chapter that comes after Sene learns the truth about Solas as an ancient elf, which comes right after he finally tells her about the miscarriage. This chapter was VERY hard, as it starts in the Fade, and then they come back hard to reality. Huge tone shift. Dorian is there, etc. I’m still a little unhappy with this chapter, especially the ending. It was difficult to find the thesis, ie: what is the ultimate goal? I knew it had to be something with Sene’s character, as this is when her flaws and fears truly start to take shape, but I just couldn’t get a grip on the ending. I probably wrote 14 different endings until I finally figured out what her state of mind needed to be and even still, I’m a little unsure, because I just couldn’t mess around with it anymore. I was going nuts. So I just published it and moved on. Moveon.org. Sometimes you just gotta. Bleh. Oh well.

Chapter 36: Hey, Morrigan. Spin me a tale.

THIS CHAPTER KILLED ME. Lol. Looking back, I am actually very pleased with it, but at the time, it was so much that I had to delay publishing, because I just could not get it right. In the end, it just ended up being a series of impressionistic, almost paratactic scenes, all with very oblique titles. Again, problem-solving. Though I love writing like this. It’s totally my wheelhouse. But to earn this kind of thing, I knew I needed to establish a really strong thematic drawstring to unite all the pieces. I had like thirty metaphors going at once with the knitting and the gloves and the hands, and then creating that sense of confusion in the end, between what Solas is experiencing NOW and what he is remembering–that was really fucking hard. This chapter took me two weeks to draft, and I remember publishing it at 2am and then dragging myself to bed like TIS FINALLY COMPLETE.

Chapter 38: Assassins

This chapter was another logistical nightmare. I don’t typically write a ton of consecutive, immediately chronological scenes, or scenes where the tension completely shifts based on real-time action. But in this chapter, I had to locate Sene’s state of mind with Mythal, coordinate the accidental reveal of Solas’s identity, then cue the assassins, trigger Sene’s response, locate Mythal’s state of mind, and then get everyone down to the brig. FFFFFF. Like this is NOT my strength as a writer, and so this chapter was a huge challenge and I feel like I actually learned a lot. Also, I remember I initially wrote past the ending of this chapter by like 2500 words, only later to realize I needed to save all that for later. So yeah. :deep breath: This chapter, in my mind, feels full of sharp knives.

@thevikingwoman, per your interests.