#'nearly' because i had Already turned 13. when i made this blog.

[mealbits]

pause. i just realized this artblog spans thru like nearly my entire adolescence.

[nc-vb]

𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

In advance, I apologize to those who have already seen this post. I've had to transfer it to a new blog thanks to a seemingly permanent ban on my former main blog, @niicevibe. So this is just copy & paste from there. Sorry!

Self-indulgent, targeting my brief stint as a backpacker where I literally took plants from everywhere I went back home to my mama, and also where I nearly got electrocuted because I thought doing this with a lightning storm on the horizon was a good idea?? Disclaimer: I never claimed to be, nor will I ever claim to be, smart.

pairing -> tighnari x fem!reader

warnings -> sfw; not beta'ed (i’m a coward); mild description of ptsd symptoms & injuries; mild nudity (nothing mentioned); a couple of suggestive parts? it’s pg-13 really; hurt & comfort.

character mentions -> cyno, collei, the traveler (as lumine), shirin (forest ranger doc)

word count -> 3.9k

You have a stupid look on your face. He knows it, without even having to turn around in his seat to confirm it. He even knew it had been you without turning, not that you made a proper sound upon entering his forest home, but the way you had shuffled in without a word, your steps hesitant but wanting, before the wood frame for his bed had creaked just loud enough to stir him out of his concentration. Now, minutes have already passed with your silence, the occasional shuffling of material against material being the only sound you make.

“________, welcome back,” he finally calls. You hum, but it sounds muffled from his end of the room. “… you’re staring again, aren’t you?”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You chuckle at this.

“No one likes a know-it-all, Tighnari.”

“You do.”

“Heh, that’s true.”

There’s a small break of silence between the two of you, besides the resumed scratching of his quill against the parchment and the distant chatter of the forest rangers. It is a patient silence, one the two of you often revel in whenever there isn’t any field work to be done, a rarity considering your professions.

Tighnari, the chief officer of the Forest Rangers, a Forest Watcher, and you, a young, nomadic adventurer with a love for all things nature— your paths crossing had been coincidental, with him on a routine patrols through the Avidya Forest and you completing a strange commission from the Guild for a Akademiya student looking to create a stronger, more robust fertilizer for improving vegetation that had you hunting down Hydro Slimes. You’d been so enthralled with the idea of being able to grow and harvest crops at a more opportunistic rate that you took the commission on in a heartbeat, beating even the Traveler to it through your enthusiasm alone, that you’d forgotten to watch your surroundings.

At the time of when he came across you, you laughing as you crawled out of your unconsciousness after being targeted by a small group of floating fungi, he could hardly blame you for being taken by surprise after a hearty explanation for your presence.

“Wouldn’t it be amazing if this worked? It could be brought to other lands where plant growth is near impossible! Like, Watatsumi Island!” You’d laughed again, the excitement in your eyes near uncontainable.

But your injuries were no laughing matter. You’d been victimized by the elements of Hydro, Dendro, and Pyro, your clothing and hair scorched and your arms and calves blistered from burgeon. It took a long time for your injuries to heal that had you unable to leave Gandharva Ville, but in that time, you had found a friend in its chief. Your first few weeks in Sumeru prior to the incident had been most eventful, and Tighnari was ever pleased to learn that you didn’t arrive here ignorant to nature.

“The problem is with these adventurers is that they think wherever they go, they can act first and think later, but who does that help? Especially when the one’s who’ve received Visions think they’re suddenly the greatest because their flames can take care of enemies fast, or their lightning can increase the jumping power of a mushroom— nature is not something to be parasitized. It’s embarrassing that they think so little of it.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

You’d never actually been to Inazuma thanks to the Sakoku Decree their Raiden Shogun enacted, so you’d only heard about Watatsumi’s situation, and in wanting desperately to see the unknown plant life that you’d yet to see unlike those from the rest of the seven nations, as well as desiring to one day be able to be a liaison for this soil-experimenting Sumerian, you jumped ship from your volunteer position with the Forest Rangers to jump on a ship for Ritou. If not for you having a Vision of your own, Tighnari would have highly debated chasing after you once he’d learned why you left.

Inazuma was not unlike the stories you’d heard from the more seasoned adventurers you’d spoken to. How even the earth was charged with Electro elemental energy thanks to the various ley lines hidden beneath it; how the Sacred Sakura tree of the Grand Narukami Shrine had grown out its roots throughout the region and spread its seeds in the form of sakura blooms— but the only things you were really concerned over were collecting enough of a soil sample to bring back to that Amurta student, and most importantly, collect a sea ganoderma that “grew” on Inazuman shores.

Are they alive? Or are they a type of fungus? How long does it take for one to “spawn”? Considering the numbers in which they appeared, you had these and many other questions to ask. And naturally, you needed samples to bring back with you, not just for your curiosity’s sake, but as a gift for Tighnari, as thanks for all that he’d done for you. Supposedly, he’s never seen one in person before. You only wish he could have gone with you. Despite his own duties, he found himself wishing he could accompany you, too.

Tighnari didn’t expect you to be back so soon, however. Knowing what the distance was between Liyue Harbour, the main port of which you would have to embark on your journey from, and Ritou, the main port on Inazuman soil you would arrive at, and what items had been on your itinerary, he expected you back in Gandharva Ville in no sooner than nine days, two of those days being used for sea travel. It’s only been four, something that only clicks in when you’d just sighed.

“______,” Tighnari calls, his tone almost too flat to be considered pleasant; you flinch. “Come over here, please.”

“… but your bed is so comfy,” you mumble tiredly, despite being wide awake.

“I don’t want to have to stop doing what I’m working on if it’s nothing, so come here— please.”

Game over, you think miserably.

In the five months since you began staying with the Forest Rangers, you learned full well the extents of which Tighnari’s wrath could take. Now, since you’ve already been back during this small time without saying a word, or even joining him at his desk to properly greet him (even though he could’ve just turned around for a second, you think), his initial suspicion has slowly elevated into the situation before you. And as you rise off of his bed and trudge toward him, you instinctively begin preparing yourself for an earful.

Heaving a sigh, you turn at the last second to lean against the edge of his desk to the right of him. Tighnari gives himself a moment, sparing a breath down at his half-written letter to finally look at you. His lips part almost instantaneously, his forest-like eyes widening in response to your bodily visage.

“I-It’s… not as bad as you think,” you’re quick to try and explain, but he’s already on his feet, chair pushed back to make room for his close quarters pacing. “Tighnari, calm down…”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he says sharply, but there isn’t any bite to his words— you can tell this much by the way his tail anxiously sways back and forth behind him.

“… sorry,” you mumble. You clear your throat lightly when he decides to lift your arms up by your wrists, three fingers from each of his hands dragging them upward and between you. But this hurts. The way you wince proves it. Carefully, Tighnari lowers your bandaged arms back down to yours side, but not before casting your shoulder a look of disdain. “Tighnari?”

He looks away from you instead to rummage through one of the drawers of the cabinet next to you. “Go and sit on the bed,” he instructs you. “Take your shirt off.”

You instantly flush with heat. “H-Huh? Why?”

Scoffing lightly, “I’m redoing your bandages.”

“O-Oh… but they’re brand new. Don’t waste your supplies on this…”

“They’re not good enough,” he murmurs. Briefly turning to you, he slips a couple of fingers beneath the top layer of bandaging. “See? This should be tight but breathable. You might die from an oxygen overdose with this wrapping job.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you, in time for him to begin corralling you back to his mattress.

“It’s a shame how you and the General Mahamatra bicker so much when your jokes and comebacks can be just as lame,” you say, allowing him to lower you back down. He shoots you a look. “But on the topic of the bandages… I guess I’ll have to inform Shirin of her most unsatisfactory work,” you mumble to the side, though your one eye remains on him. Three words catch in his throat, an offended, “I didn’t mean—” slipping out before he cuts himself off with a small huff. You can’t help the even smaller giggle that escapes you.

“I know you didn’t mean that. I was lying, anyway. I did this myself with my own two hands—” when you raise them for emphasis, you end grimacing at the harsh, crackling electrical burns ending at the base of your palms. “Ah, well, maybe that was a bad idea in itself.”

“Wait, is that—?” Tighnari’s eyes move past you and toward his nightstand, where sitting in a carefully sealed glass case sat the blue sea plant. “A sea ganoderma?”

“Yessir,” you say, tone proud. “I almost died getting this one, but it was one of the purest grown! Right next to a lightning sakura tree, sharing the same oxygen and minerals and nutrients and still growing under such a condition? Inazuma is amazing, Tighnari— oh, you’d love it.”

“A lightning sakura tree?” he repeats, his ears dropping into a furl. “When you say you “almost died”, do you mean these injuries are from—”

“Yes, but I’m alive, and that’s what matters here.”

“______. You know how I feel about you downplaying your injuries. You were electrocuted. Are you alright?”

“I…” At the softened look on his face, you pause. You hate worrying him just as much as he hates when you hide getting hurt, but his expression is so sincerely concerned that lying to him about the extent of your injury seems almost blasphemous. “I-I’m not… okay. That’s why… I came back early.”

Another brief moment of quiet allows for Tighnari to collect himself, saving you from that earful you feared.

“… I’m at least glad… you had the common sense to do that,” he says, joining you at the edge of the bed. “Quite unlike the first time I met you that you’d gone and done things on your own with that commission of yours.”

At this, you laugh, though the pressure on your back makes your skin ache.

“You’re friends with the Traveler, aren’t you?” He nods. “Didn’t she ever tell you that I stole that commission from her?”

Tighnari shakes his head at you while helping you to unzip your shirt from the back. “No, but certainly sounds like something you’d do.”

”Hehe.”

He lays your shirt in a neat fold near the foot of his bed, draping it over the edge, only to turn back to you and sigh.

“What a mess.”

“… is it really that bad of a job?” He sends you a knowing look over your shoulder. “In my defence, I was doing this on a moving ship, with no mirror.”

“I don’t know if it could’ve been done worse.” He pulls off his gloves, finger by finger. ”Hold still now; I’m going to unravel it and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Skin flushing once more, you nod. “… o… okay.” He fully disappears behind you, shifting on the bed to get comfortable, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the tip of his tail swish into view rather rapidly. “You… don’t have to be nervous,” you murmur, unable to raise your voice much higher considering your position. “I-It’s just me.”

Tighnari hums, though in a higher octave than normal. He touches your one shoulder with the tips of his fingers, silently alerting you when he begins undoing the poorly tied knot at the back of your arm. How did you even manage this? he wonders, brows knitted. Unable to pry it apart, he ends up snipping it off with a small pair of shears.

Naturally, this isn’t the first time he’s had to take care of you. Before, and in the more serious cases, he had Shirin’s help, being the doctor of the Forest Rangers. Burns and burgeons, accidentally drowning in trying to fetch a patch of nilotpata lotuses, falling down hills and receiving scrape over scrape scars, that time you were ran over by a sumpter beast?— you were covered in old injuries, your curiosities always getting the better of you. Despite his grand disappointment in you each time you’d returned battered and beaten, hands full of your bounty, but grinning as if you’d won some great prize, he’d take care of you, a willing aide to your obvious self-sabotage.

But this time, somehow, it’s become more intimate than it is professional.

Maybe it’s the fact you were in his room, sitting on his bed, just the two of you rather than Shirin or Collei assisting and watching in the infirmary. He’d always been conscious of the fact that he found your level of curiosity and love for nature fascinating— idiotic, too, no doubt about it; he could no longer count on his four limbs how many times he’s had to try and talk you out of your latest, most hair-brained ideas. But even as you returned to him, to see him — “I was just passing through to Mawtiyima, but I wanted to visit you first!” — the lecturing became less aggressive, his choice words for you having less of a sting to them as they left his mouth.

He didn’t have to call you a dummy anymore — “I am well aware of my shortcomings, but where’s the fun in being careful? I promise, Tighnari; I’m not purposely injuring myself…” This much was already painfully proven, pardoning the irony. At least, he stopped using the word as an insult. It became affectionately said, Tighnari finding himself further and further down into the hole you dug where you always seemed content to wait for him.

“You know, there’s probably a reason she’s so patient for you,” Cyno once pointed out, post-visit to Collei. “You, and your lack of sense of humour.”

She did call my jokes “lame”, didn’t she, Tighnari recalls glumly, ears flattening, but as if having made a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn less than five seconds later, they perk up. If he’s right, than what is that reason?

“It’s just me”, you’d said. Well, that appears to be the problem at hand, now, doesn’t it?

You find yourself grateful for the warm air swarming the Avidya Forest. With your upper half bare to the emptiness of Tighnari’s treetop hut, you surely would have caught another chill like you did back in Inazuma. Although, perhaps not, considering this time, you had company.

You don’t inherently mean to do it, but shrinking forward and into yourself had seemed like the appropriate thing to do while Tighnari finished undoing your poor bandage work. Your hands, which still tingled from the effects of your electrocution, found their way to holding onto your knees, steadying your racing mind from focusing too hard on how soft his fingertips felt against your scalding flesh.

Oh, you truly could ignite on the spot, if only your Vision would permit it.

You had only held onto two regrets from committing yourself to a life of journey and adventure. The first, was you leaving your loved ones behind (without a word, mind you; you knew full well they would try to stop you at every turn), and the second appeared after becoming acquainted with the Forest Watcher sat before you, knowing you could never stay in one spot and love him as hard as your heart desired. He grew on you as fast as an oyster mushroom, his stubbornness and straightforward demeanour something you looked forward to seeing only every time you could.

Tighnari doesn’t even realize he’s paused, hands hovering between him and your bare back, his eyes glued to the fractal scarring spanning from the top of your spine downward, smaller tendrils curling around your arms. They’ll fade, he knows this — his have already started to, according to Cyno and Shirin — but seeing them on you? He’s seen your hurt in one too many ways. But this…

“Tighnari,” you whisper, turning your chin over your shoulder to see him, lips parting in response to his obvious distress. You’ve never seen him so… so appalled; so stiff, as if he’d been rooted to the very earth beneath him. “T-Tighnari, I—” you reach toward the end of the bed to grab your shirt, ignoring the pain searing along your shoulders and pressing it against your chest before turning fully to him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful. I-I was cocky; I thought I could dodge it, but that plant, it… it was so stuck, I—”

“Just… stop,” he whispers, stilling, his breathing slightly laboured, “for a moment.”

You suck in a breath of your own, an attempt to get yourself to remain silent. The expression on his face, you realize after taking a moment to study it, is near unreadable. But why does he look like he’s seen a ghost? you adamantly wonder. It takes you so long to realize that not a look of horror or shock… but one of recollection. One of remembrance. One of fear. Eyes trained on one of the violet crackles adorning your arm, his ears suddenly twitch, almost as if something takes him by surprise or shocks hi—

Wait… shocks?

It’d dawned on you, painfully slow. If it wouldn’t have hurt the rest of you, you would’ve given yourself a smack to the forehead.

Things couldn’t have made more sense now, his silence uncharacteristic and, if you were to be honest, a little disconcerting. You loved hearing him speak, even if was for the reason. You’d never seen him so quiet over one of your injuries before, but this is the first time you’d gotten yourself so obviously hurt by the Electro element. The marks crawling across your upper body were dark and prominent and fresh— Tighnari hadn’t seen his as up close, only through the reflection of two mirrors, their image distorted by the angles. It’s different, seeing them how the doctors at Pardis Dhyai must have after the incident; how Cyno must have when he came to check on him.

It’s different seeing them, because now, they’re on you, too.

“… is that… why you were away for so long before?” you dare to ask, voice barely above a whisper. “You were hurt?” He doesn’t answer, but his eyes have a tell.

You don’t apologize again— you know there’s no point; he already knows how strongly you empathize with him. Pressing your shirt more firmly against you, you lift yourself a few inches closer to him, and raise your spare hand to rest against his cheek. He blinks, easily more times than necessary, but it brings him back into having enough focus to look up at you.

Your gaze wanders across his face, searching; waiting. Always waiting, for him. Your bottom lip is pinched so tightly between your teeth that a split has appeared near the center of it, and somehow, it triggers a reaction in the young Forest Watcher, his own hands rising from his lap to hold you, to run a thumb from one of his smooth hands across your lip.

“… please don’t hurt yourself more,” he pleads, his voice hoarse. “Not for my sake.”

You instinctively run your tongue over where you'd sensed the sting, Tighnari barely moving his finger out of the way in time to avoid it— his cheeks tint rouge at the thought.

Your own cheeks grow warm when you tilt forward to touch your forehead to his. His eyelashes flutter until his eyes shut, the comforting touches you supply slowly bringing him out of his panicked state, and subconsciously, his tail swishes toward you, quick to curl around your calf.

“For your sake, I’d do anything, Tighnari.”

“I… I think you should apply to the Akademiya,” he says, lightly pulling at the bandage to stretch it before wrapping it twice around your bicep.

Enough time had passed that you both finally agreed that having you sit half nude on his bed wasn’t exactly ideal (though, for as hard as he tried not to once conscious of his staring, it wasn’t exactly easy to watch you turn back around). And so, with the salve still fresh and pasted across your skin, Tighnari got to work, adept fingers moving quickly to wrap your torso up so you could face him again.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, with all of these commissions you do, not only the ones for Sumeru, but all over Teyvat, that have much to do with ecological betterment experiments, you’ve gained that experience and first-hand field knowledge— coming from an Akademiya alumnus, I think you’d be the ideal Amurta applicant.”

“Tighnari, please,” you say, your lips curled upward toward your warmed cheeks. “I know it’s probably not your intention, but you’re fluffing my ego too hard…”

He chuckles at your clear enjoyment of his words. “My master is the current sage… If you are ever interested, it would be easy to ask him to put in a word of recommendation for you. I could even write a letter, myself.”

A laugh escapes you from being slightly overwhelmed by his suggestion.

“You know, I-I never thought about it before. Surely I’d have more opportunities to work in nature and learn about medicinal plant cultivation, which I’ve always loved…” Tighnari snips the bandage from the roll and sets the tools back down to tie off the strip. “… have I held myself back, under the belief that because I became an adventurer, I’d just stay an adventurer, forever? Taking commissions, making mora— that’s not at all what I wanted from this…”

“You’ve been an adventurer for a while now,” Tighnari reminds you. “And while you’ve had time to think about it, that doesn’t mean you’ve come to any conclusions. But that’s fine, too, of course. Do you know yet, what it is that you want for yourself?”

Your eyes meet. “I want to do so many things, Tighnari,” you say, smiling. “What you do here in the Avidya Forest, for example. What that fertilizer experimenter commissioned me for, for the purpose of bettering the lives of everyone and not just himself? Discovering new plants and fungi and finding out their uses? Helping people? This forest? Oh, I want all of that for me desperately.”

Beneath the glow of the lanterns lit around his room, you fondly note the sudden rosiness to the soft apples of his cheeks.

“Then starting here… wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

“Starting here… with you… you mean?” He nods, his tall ears bobbing with him. You find your grin widening, and before he can stop you (not that he would), you place your hands on his cheeks and draw him close so as to press kisses from his cheekbones and down to his lips, lingering there just a little longer. You pull back in time to witness a fog-like daze pass over his reddened face. Giggling, “It would be the best thing.”

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[allatariel]

I posted 241 times in 2022

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#i’m a ux/ui/usability designer at a university and this is why i set verdana as the default font for all online courses nearly 15 years ago

I sent 3 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Cere wasn’t altogether certain how Cal and BD-1 had recovered Trilla’s lightsaber during the chaos and confusion of her confrontation with Darth Vader and their subsequent escape. By rights it should have been consigned to the depths of Nur; laid to rest as Trilla herself could not have been. But somehow it was here, its crystal, its heart crying out in anguish and rage.

Because of what Cal had told her he had seen when he brought it back to her in place of the holocron they sought, she knew it was the same lightsaber Trilla had always carried. Even altered, visibly unrecognizable, Cere could feel that it was indeed the same kyber Trilla had carried since her Gathering and through her whole apprenticeship. Like Trilla herself, beneath the rage and anguish was the barest flicker of the light. An ember of the roaring hearth fire Cere had nurtured for years and then abandoned. Compounding failure on failure.

Cere sighed. Dwelling on her failures was not useful. She had already dwelled on them for far too long.

After escaping the Inquisitorius, after seeing what her actions had brought Trilla to, her own dark and violent emotions had festered into deep despair. But not before she had turned them on herself, tearing and hacking her hair with her lightsaber till the crystal screamed on the verge of bleeding.

Shaking, the hilt had fallen from her hand to clatter at her knees amidst the singed remains of her once beautifully adorned braids.

That was the first time she had pushed the Force down, shunning the comfort it offered, even as she was grateful for its warning. After all, her kyber was only a reflection of her own heart. Beaten and alone, yes, but unwilling to fully embrace the Dark Side.

She had sold her crystal then, because she needed the money to be sure, but mostly to run from the song it sang to her in the Force.

That had been her first faltering step to where she found herself now. Kneeling on the ground outside a ship that had become a home with others, once beaten and alone, who had become a family.

26 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

Secretary Laura Roslin swept down the buzzing corridors of the battlestar Galactica escorted by Mr. Doral on their way to meet with the commanding officer. As the public relations executive coordinating today’s ceremony, Mr. Doral had been aboard Galactica for weeks in preparation. The Ceremony was to commemorate the opening of the first of its kind living museum, a joint venture between the Colonial fleet and the Colonial government. The Galactica would remain in service as a training ship, under the jurisdiction of the Military Academy of the Colonial fleet, and be open to guided public tours, managed by the Ministry of Education of the Colonial government. As Secretary of Education, Laura already knew all of this, but Mr. Doral droned on either unaware or unbothered by that fact. Laura was used to dealing with men like him, men who underestimated her in every conceivable way.

As they rounded a corner, Laura half caught Mr. Doral suggesting that she advocate for Galactica to have a networked computerized system placed on board. Did he just say what I think he said?

Laura stopped short and turned toward him. “Excuse me,” she began, as he noticed her no longer next to him and hurried back. “Did you just ask me to convince the commanding officer of this battlestar to allow an integrated computer network to be placed on his ship?”

“Ma’am, as you well know, this would make it much easier for the teachers—”

“Mr. Doral, those issues have already been addressed without the need for a computerized network, as I am sure you are aware, having worked closely with Zachary Adama over the last few weeks,” Laura cut him off as politely as possible even as she internally bristled at the sheer audacity of him presuming to enlighten a doctor of education, former teacher, former superintendent of Caprica City schools, and current two term Secretary of Education on the needs of teachers.

He blustered on, as men like him often do, “The inconvenience and cost simply don’t justify it. You have to agree it’s a ridiculously antiquated attitude.”

“No, I don’t. I agree with the director of this project and the CO of this ship.” When Doral appeared ready to continue pushing the issue, Laura held up her hand. “I see this is important to you, Mr. Doral, but the decision has already been made and I won’t reconsider. This museum is supposed to be a living record of the technology and tactics necessary to fight the most devastating enemy humanity has ever faced. An enemy we did not defeat, despite the peace we have enjoyed since the armistice. An enemy who relied on networked computerized systems. The answer is no.” The steel in her voice conveyed the finality of this discussion even as Mr. Doral appeared to grope around for an appropriate way to backpedal. Laura didn’t give him the time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am more than familiar with the location of the CO’s quarters and I’d rather like to greet my husband unaccompanied.”

Mildly gratified by his somewhat chastened expression and the surprise in his eyes at the word ‘husband,’ Laura continued on her way. Mercifully, Doral did not follow. She was practically there already, anyway. Turning down the next corridor, she spied the end of the last short corridor leading down to Bill’s quarters. Her pace increasing subconsciously in her eagerness, Laura came to the top of the stairs and saw Saul stepping out of the hatch. He left it ajar when he turned at the familiar clack of her heels on the stairs.

“Hello, Laura,” he greeted as he leaned in to kiss her cheek like the old friend he was.

“Saul, it’s good to see you,” she replied smoothly, willing herself not to recoil from the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. While she wasn’t opposed to drinking, since the deaths of her father and sisters at the hands of a drunk driver, Laura had no tolerance for careless drunkenness like Saul’s, especially at such an early hour. She’d already dealt with one inebriated Tigh today and her patience was wearing thin. Were it any other day, Laura wouldn't have held back, but she didn’t want to do anything that might mar the ceremony. And reuniting with her husband after three months apart was far more important to her at the moment.

“Bill’s been expecting you—giddy as a cadet all day. I’ll give you kids some privacy,” Saul winked and quipped cheekily in his gruff voice, with surprisingly little slurring, before nodding to her and walking away.

“See you at the ceremony,” Laura said, watching him wobble only once on the short flight of stairs out of the little corridor. She turned back to the hatch and found Bill in his tanks and dress uniform trousers, stocking feet visible just over the rim of the hatchway. He offered her an understanding and slightly apologetic look and she pressed her lips into a rueful smile that conveyed ‘thank you, but it’s not your fault.’

Saul was forgotten as he pulled her to him through the hatch and closed it.

Laura hummed contentedly as he held her to his chest, one of her hands over his heart as she rounded his waist with the other. Eventually she looked up and they gazed into each other’s eyes. Reaching a hand up to his face she confirmed he had freshly shaved, and intimated huskily, “I was hoping to find you like this.” He smiled warmly and slowly brought his lips to hers, kissing her senseless. 

After, when they’d both found a measure of equilibrium together again, Laura kicked her heels off and settled into one of the plush leather chairs adjacent to his rack to watch him put on his dress uniform.

“The gold braid of the Admiral’s piping really suits you, too bad your Dress Grays don’t have it,” she said as she noticed his duty uniform jacket lying on the rack next to him after he picked up the matching trousers.

“No, just the pips. It’s a little garish don’t you think?” She watched him hang up his blues, fingering the gold braid as he hooked the hanger above his rack.

“Not at all, I like you in gold.” She ran her thumb lovingly over her gold wedding band, regarding him intensely as he caught the gesture and smiled fondly, though he didn’t meet her gaze. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage, he still seemed at times to marvel at her honest attraction and regard for him. Bill may not have been the most effusive person, but he loved fiercely and he deserved to know he was loved just as fiercely in return.

30 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#3

Stranger Things headcanon time! So, Eddie is neurodivergent, pretty sure he’s ADHD. Because he’s definitely smart, but he can’t focus on things that don’t interest him. And he hyperfocuses on D&D and music. I think he probably did the bare minimum in school, only just passing by the skin of his teeth, until his first crack at 12th grade two years ago. Something changed and he just couldn’t get his grades up to scratch.

Now I think maybe that was when he moved in with his uncle, maybe during that school year or the summer just before. And maybe that was because his parents died or were just not around for whatever reason, be it jail or hospitalization or just abandoning him or what have you. Perhaps one had left his life sometime prior, even as early as his birth. In any case, I don’t think this was the first time Uncle Wayne had to step in.

Something traumatic happened and Eddie was no longer able to tread water with his school work and he failed. He threw himself into D&D and music even harder than before to escape.

Regardless, he probably hasn’t failed more than those two times as Chrissy had been in middle school with him and for that to have been the case, he certainly hadn’t failed at all between 8th grade and that first run through senior year. Unless she failed as well at some point since then and I think that’s highly unlikely. If he only failed those two times then she would have been in 6th grade when he was in 8th, the first and last years of middle school. She can’t be any younger and have that math work out. As long as she didn’t fail or skip a year, which is also unlikely, she’s a senior now, 17 (according to Ms. Kelley’s records), and Eddie is 19 or 20 depending on where his birthday falls in the year.

The point is, I think Eddie is ADHD and definitely struggled in school but has only failed the same year twice as a result of some life-changing, probably traumatic, event.

46 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#2

Now is the winter of our decongestant.

49 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“She’s beautiful,” he said, inspecting her face. “Her eyes have changed color.”

Lyra nodded. “They’re sort of flecked.”

“Stardust,” Galen said. “That’s what’s in her eyes.”

—Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel, by James Luceno

Galen nicknamed Jyn “Stardust” because of her eyes.

Now, I’ve only watched the Andor episodes once, but I couldn’t see any explanation for the astronomical event on Aldhani to be called “The Eye.” It didn’t really resemble an eye to me.

Gorn tells Cassian: "Imagine fifty meteor showers all at once, but like a curtain being pulled across the sky until the Eye, the window to the galaxy, forms over the horizon."

As the old saying goes, “the eyes are the window to the soul,” and "The Eye” is perhaps so named because it is seen as a window to the galaxy.

As far as I can tell, no one in the episodes uses the word “Stardust,” but that is clearly what it looks like and many have drawn the connection.

What reason could there be to have a green and gold astronomical event called “The Eye” other than to reference Jyn’s stardust eyes?

97 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[shadowofthehost]

NAME: Des

PRONOUNS: They/Them/He/She

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord but mostly Tumblr messenger if we don't share discord

NAME OF MUSE(S): Astor here Pierre on @hazbinsandweirdos

EXPERIENCE / HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS)?: Almost 20 years, been rping since I was 13

BEST EXPERIENCE: When I started shame the shadow and it turned into shame the dash or the time I drew Astor and let the dash make a group picture and draw their muses with him

I miss when I first started Astors blog we had so much fun over here but things changed drastically after the stalking situation

RP PET PEEVES / DEAL-BREAKERS:

Fan children. OCs made strictly to be the child of a canon character so you can play out some family role with someone else's muse who isn't involved in your fan kids creation. Makes me so uncomfortable. I don't care if others do it but I personally don't want to be involved in it

You came up with this dynamic they have in your head, no one else is involved in that dynamic but you, unless there is a full on constant discussion between the two interacting which, it should always be so you're both on the same page. It's just way too much work for me.

MUSE PREFERENCES FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: I don't write smut. Angst and Fluff are where it's at

PLOTS OR MEMES: 100% memes I don't like plotting because it feels like we already wrote it so there's no reason to rewrite it for the most part

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I tend to prefer long replies but I get so burnt out this time of year I can barely do short replies...so I do a mix of both. I let the muse lead the replies

BEST TIME TO WRITE: during the day is usually when I have the most energy but that's when the place is dead or I'm working lol

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Pierre, absolutely not. I am not nearly as well put together or patient as he can be xD Astor has my weirdest thoughts but he gets to act on them like, chewing on plastic or eating a rock or laying on the floor with the fridge door open, while eating lunch meat. Boy gets to live the best life xD

[bellamyroselia]

I posted 219 times in 2022

That's 134 more posts than 2021!

52 posts created (24%)

167 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@alexandrhea

@bellamyroselia

@surachibee

@mimirouru-chan

@norue67

I tagged 219 of my posts in 2022

#amazing art - 72 posts

#pokemon - 42 posts

#funny - 41 posts

#kid icarus - 41 posts

#fe3h - 41 posts

#personal thoughts - 38 posts

#pit - 25 posts

#ki - 20 posts

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd - 14 posts

#kiu - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#maybe if they'd given them first names it would be easier. like maybe they'd all be named after people nemesis & helen had connections to?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I got the little prince ☺️

+ Now they can be all prince-ly together!

18 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#4

In which I talk of the possibility and headcanon of Pit being a demigod because damn it, I have a mouth and I will scream into the void because I can

Yeah, this a personal crack headcanon of mine and I thought why not speak more of it, as I think there's lot of potential in the idea… That and I currently don’t really feel like or even want to write about Hera or Artemis for that huge essay of mine in the making. And because this idea was one of the reasons I even started said essay, I thought why not scream about it for a short while since I want to actually gush about it. Long post ahead, it’s headcanon time.

So who's the god I think would make most sense as Pit’s parent? Ares, of course. I haven’t been exactly subtle about this, otherwise I wouldn’t be making jokes about how Pit could be Orpheus’ uncle. Is there really any other options that could work? Pit’s primarily based on Ares’ son, Eros so it’s already like this headcanon was asking to be made. And when compared to some other Eros-expies in media, Pit seems to share lot of similarities with Ares - they’re both one-man-armies, always ready to fight when the need arrives and have faced some rather terrifying foes. Ares is also the god of both rebellion and civil order, so it would fit rather nicely with Pit’s duty as a humanity's protector and therefore as a retainer of civil order, and to highlight the duality of Pit and Pittoo. He’s probably the best dad Olympus has to offer with Apollo being his only serious competition, so what we could get out of this deal would be both a really unique take on Ares at least when it comes to modern media that is and a parental figure for Pit who loves him unconditionally, no strings attached. Call me a massive a sap, but I think it would be neat for there to be a character who acknowledges that Pit’s still young and everyone around him has failed him by making him fix their messes, himself included by not being there. However, Pit would likely immediately just accept their apologies because that’s just the kind of person he is. In comparison, Aphrodite wouldn’t work nearly as well in this regard; in fact that she’s the main villain of that one specific myth that features Eros as a main character!

So yeah, I like the idea of Ares being Pit’s dad and a good one of that since he’s one in mythology proper. This would push off the option of him being a villain off the table, as him being antagonistic towards his own child would be massively OOC - if it’s on his own free will, that is. Only way I could see him being antagonist towards Pit is if mind control is involved and it could very well be possible, since the topic of breaking Ares' psyche to turn him into a slave has been brought up in works such as Dionysiaca. But before we get into that, how could’ve he even got into the point of having Pit and why would he be MIA during original Kid Icarus and Uprising? When it came to my headcanons, I just decided to take the lazy way out and used this as a base: 

"On the right of the so-called Dyke lies the Manthuric plain. The plain is on the borders of Tegea, stretching just about fifty stades to that city. On the right of the road is a small mountain called Mount Kresios, on which stands the sanctuary of Aphneios. For Ares, the Tegeans say, mated with Aerope, daughter of Kepheus, the son of Aleus. She died in giving birth to a child, who clung to his mother even when she was dead, and sucked great abundance of milk from her breasts. Now this took place by the will of Ares, and because of it they name the god Aphneios; but the name given to the hill was, it is said, Aeropos."

Pausanias, Description of Greece, trans. Jones

Like, look at me into the eyes and say this doesn’t sound like some anime character’s backstory! Now as for what Aphneois (or Aphneus as it’s more commonly called) stands for, it means abundant and under that title Ares was worshiped as a giver of food and abundance. It’s a really cute if a bit sad story, making it really easy to use as a base for headcanons. Now if this was the case, I could see the timeline going something like this - Ares meets KI’s equivalent of Aerope and the two fall for each other, some time later they’re expecting a kid but then something goes horribly wrong and Aerope dies. Instead of letting Aerope’s family to take care of the kid, he chooses to take the baby with him and is a single parent for a while before realizing that single parenting is hard, so he asks help from Palutena since a winged kid wouldn’t look too out of place among her angels. This deal ends up going swimmingly for a while until the events of a certain other myth take place, which makes Palutena the sole caretaker of Pit; some unspecified time later que the events of the original Kid Icarus and onward. 

To that certain other myth, it would be about Ares and some giants. For minimal backstory, know that Poseidon cuckolded his own son and had giant twins named Ephialtes and Otus - they wished to have divine wives, so they planned to storm into Olympus to get they wanted, Otus wanting Artemis and Ephialtes wanting Hera. Some time later Olympians were surprised to find these two piling up mountains on top one another and as expected, a fight broke out between them because no one comes to the Olympian home turf without facing the consequences. Once the giants finally left, the Olympians noticed that someone is missing, that being Ares. Ephialtes and Otus probably realized way too late that kidnapping the god of war wasn’t the brightest idea and because letting him go wasn’t an option, they chained him and then locked him inside a bronze jar. It took around a lunar year for the giants stepmother to finally rat this out to Hermes, who then went to save Ares with Artemis. While she distracted the giants and made them throw their spears at each other, Hermes lockpicked Ares out of the jar and so the three returned back to Olympus. And if you think this reminds you of something, know that Hermes is the god of guard dogs and dogs are sacred animals of both Ares and Artemis. Funny how that works.

I think something similar to this could’ve easily happened to him in Kid Icarus, so that could explain why he has been MIA. And if we wanted an antagonistic Ares for a while, I’d say this would be the easiest way to excuse it because unlike Pit in the Ring of Chaos, Ares was fully conscious the whole time, growing faint and breaking down before Hermes freed him. That all happened during a span of a lunar year, one can think how badly someone’s psyche would break if they had to endure it for longer. Mix this with the idea of mind control and you’d get a divine kidnapping in the purpose of mind controlling him into a indestructible living weapon, reasons can vary - maybe the giants wanted to get something out of their accidental prisoner or someone commissioned them into getting him and breaking his mind, because who wouldn’t want an indestructible, powerful living weapon who’s loyal to you and only you. And one other element could be tied to this, which is helmet symbolism as Ares is often portrayed to have something I like to call Meta Knight syndrome. He’s most of the time shown as wearing a helmet in art even when rest of his armor isn’t present, removing it is treated as a big deal. One could easily craft some ideas out of this, first one that comes to my mind is to tie mind control into the helmet and then break it during a dramatic moment, which sets him free from it. Now wouldn't that make a pretty awesome scenario, with Pit first freeing his father from imprisonment and later from mind control.

As for what would happen next? That's a bit hard to say. I’m certain he and Aphrodite would’ve definitely still had their thing in this universe, but broke up some point before Pit was born. It would likely cause some drama because I think Phobos, Deimos and Harmonia would exist and they’re his kids too, so it could turn this into a family soap opera with stakes higher than it has any rights to have - but then again, one could easily describe Greco-Roman mythology as a whole as a family soap opera with stakes higher than it has any rights to have... So would this really be out of the ordinary?

Now there’s one scenario I think would be interesting to see… In the mythos, Ares killed Poseidon’s son Halirrhothius for assaulting his daughter Alcippe and Poseidon predictably lost his marbles over it. The deities gathered on Areopagus to have the trial and the most common telling goes that gods sided with Poseidon, but goddesses sided with Ares. Since there was more goddesses present than gods, Poseidon ended up losing the trial and Ares got away without consequences. Something like this could be rather easy to make up, like maybe Pit's fighting Poseidon’s sea monster and almost loses, but Ares comes just in time to save him and Poseidon gets all pissy over it. Alternatively it could be one of Poseidon’s kids instead of a sea monster - I mean, he had twins with Medusa and Chrysaor is a humanoid unlike Pegasus, so why not use him? I could also see something like this working without Ares with Pit taking his place, and maybe Pittoo coming to his defense. 

I swear this wasn’t meant to be so bashy towards Poseidon, but it’s not my fault his hellspawns and Ares don’t get along with each other.

29 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

#3

Excuse me while I'm trying my best to not laugh at these pics

See the full post

42 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

#2

I just love how Submas fans saw the whole Cain instinct thing and then chose to run with it. At this point any mention of Cain instinct makes me think of Ingo and Emmet. Just them and no one else. To even think of Cain instinct outside the context of Submas feels illegal

51 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Damn, parents in Pokemon really peaked in Gen 3, didn't they?

70 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sk3tch404]

The fact that I actually recognise that person-

Was actually debating whether to block them a while back and then forgot about it but omfg yeah I shoulda done it 💀💀💀💀 idk how to explain it properly but they strongly remind me of the IRL_Clowns situation back on TikTok for some reason (the summary should still be up when you search for it I think) although they haven't reached that same lvl of..... 'Bro wtf' yet, I think

Also it's not like Aponia could whitewash Naib more than Netease already did themselves fr

Yes just block him soon...

Wait, did I ever tell you guys we were mutuals? Oh no, I didn't. Let's recap.

I understand as a fictive you can't control the characters you see yourself as, but uh yeah...

I don't mind irl's or fictives, but sometimes y'all get a little out of hand. Like...

Wow defending Phillips racist backstory and character... How interesting.

You can be an irl of whoever u want I really don't give a fuck. I'm glad they're 'not racist' as people, but can they at least acknowledge PHILIPPE'S CHAFACTER IS RACIST? HIS CHARACTER TRAILER LITERALLY HAS A BLACK PERSON WITH DRAWN WITH ETHNIC FEATURES TURNING INTO A WOLF. AN ANIMAL.

DEEMING THEM AS CRIMINALS BASED ON PHYSICAL STRUCTURE. HOW IS THAT NOT FUCKING RACIST.

You don't have to be EVERY SINGLE TRAIT of that character as a fictive, but at least acknowledge the character you are is a bad person dude 💀

Ain't it funny when you pick and choose what to speak out on?

He can't STAND IT when racist black caricatures are on screen, but when his irl S/O cries about being seen as racist even though the character they are, Philippe, is racist in his work, deeming ethnic black features as a aggravated wolf ready to strike, that's when he goes tell them to do they things they like. Take their mind off of things and take a nap.

Yes this makes total and perfect mature sense. Good job team of 7 braincells.

I also think how it's a bit funny how despite me telling him my real age when I was 13 (almost 14) and they were 16, (Probably almost turning 17 because a bit after that they had 17 in their bio) they still replied with sexual implications for the characters even though they told me,

Murder stuff only huh? I get making sexual jokes with your friends, but I can't look down at someone nearly 3 YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME, and be comfortable making those kinds of jokes.

I'm not saying he's a predator, no no not at all. What im saying is, that even though he may have tried making me feel welcomed and tried to be friendly, it was not in my best interest safety wise.

This had me thinking that making semi sexual jokes with older people was normal and okay. It is alright once in a long while, but I remember multiple occasions where he would respond with something like, "Oh yeah Naib blows readers back out when Eli isn't around."

Of course that isn't specific, but it isn't too far from incorrect.

At the time, I was still trying to be more social and getting over my social anxiety. It made me happy that someone ONLINE paid attention to me with positive things to say. Even if they were very... Effortless or braindead smut.

Now I'm not saying he had to reply to every one if my asks with a full mental analysis, but at that time, I just felt worthless and disappointed with the responses. Though I can understand why he had only replied with one sentence or two most of the time. The guy was answering a FUCK ton of asks every single day. I'm sure there was a lot of pressure there too.

He was also reblogging with his S/O a million times every day so there's that I guess.

He uses the same 7 brain cells with every ask. Literally just porn, porn, porn and porn. I don't have an issue with legit pure thirsting, but honestly the intelligence in the room dropped to 25 everytime I went on his blog.

He claims not to be racist and points out misrepresentation, yet chooses to turn a blind eye to his irl fictive S/O when they feel bad bc the racist character they are, is being seen as racist.

He didn't tell me to not make sexual jokes and set those boundaries once again knowing I was about 3 years younger, but encouraged them with keyboard smashes and more thirst.

Sending in semi sexual asks were mistakes I made on my part alone, but seeing it as entertaining and allowing it to continue was something that made him amplify the issue even further.

Being a fictive is difficult and messes with your mental health a lot, but that doesn't give him an excuse to defend explicitly racist characters when your fictive gf/husband cries about it. Just because you're ill or are an irl doesn't mean you are excused from these sort of things.

I don't know how it is to struggle with being one, or will ever know what it feels like, but I can be sure when I say, I do not tolerate picky hypocrites.

He wants to point out Kurumi for 'white washing' Naib? Okay, I get it. Doing the right and moral thing huh? Well then, allow me to point out the things I had experienced during time I spent and lost during the late year of 2020 and the entirely of 2021 - 2022.

Naib was already pale to begin with. Kurumi couldn't white wash him if he was already that color.

After all, even if they wanted to 'white wash' Naib, Netease already beat them to it. Netease is a colorist, racist, offensive, and overall problematic company.

Every single character of theirs has their issues and faults, but this 'white washing' accusation that has fallen on Kurumi's shoulders has weighed heavy enough. They are simply not true and have fallen short.

Kurumi is not a native English speaker. They were confused and anxious while he confronted them. They only had a basic understanding of what he was trying to say. I talked to them and it was never their intention to hurt anybody, especially people who are colored like me.

If he wants to confront someone improperly, it should be me. Not her.

I don't want drama. I just want what's hiding in the dark, to come out into the light. Thank you, have a good rest of your day.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle | Part 13

I know it’s been a while, and if I’m being completely honest, I really ran out of steam on this story for a while. But, we’re back! If you’re new to my blog and are interested in this story, all of the parts up to this one can be found linked in my pinned info post.

Thank you guys so much for all your support of this series so far! I hope you enjoy this part, too!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Mentions of bathing, restraints, drugs, dehumanization, conspiracies, collars, talk of diseases, talk of falling, Stockholm syndrome, affectionate caretaker, conditioned whumpee

After their bath, Villain rested.

It wasn’t exactly how Counselor had imagined the whole affair going. Villain had already spent so many days resting, laid up in that same bed, but once they were clean and settled into fresh clothes, they had requested nothing except to be able to return to sleep.

They supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected. While the bath hadn’t exactly been physically exerting, there had been several instances during it that Villain had nearly burst out in tears. Whatever was going through their mind, it was undeniably intense-- and that wasn’t even mentioning the heavy dose of sedatives coursing through their system.

And, thus, Villain slept. They were unconscious almost immediately upon hitting the mattress.

This time, however, there was no nervous twitching to accompany their unconsciousness. Instead, for the first time, their face showed a perfectly placid expression.

Taking care not to wake the sleeping patient, Counselor draped a fleece blanket overtop of them, tucking its edges in around their shoulders. They twitched, but did not awake. A moment later, they buried their face in the fabric.

Counselor had never before imagined that Villain was even capable of existing in such a calm state. Yet, here they were, looking for all the world as though not even an earthquake could wake them up.

Their gaze flicked to the bedrails. Upon returning to their bed, Villain had not so much as seemed to note the leather-and-foam restraints hanging there.

Yet, Counselor could not draw their gaze away from them.

Villain had been staying in the base for weeks, phasing through various states of aggression and fear and sickness and, on rare occasions, hesitant happiness. But, even after all that time, no one truly knew anything about them.

At least, Counselor knew nothing about them. Based on the way Leader and Medic’s expressions twisted when the prisoner was mentioned, it was clear that the both of them knew more than they were letting on-- but neither was keen to admit as to such.

Maybe Hero had had more luck on this information gathering mission.

But how much information was there really to gather? Officially, Villain had simply appeared on stage a few months ago, alongside two unknowns. More or less, they had acted just as any other villain did.

The other villains, however, had motives. Backstories. They were following orders.

Villain... If anyone on the outside cared about them, they had yet to risk any sort of jailbreak.

There was more to this than the official story, Counselor knew that full well. How much more... as to that, they had no idea.

But they had no need to rely on second hand accounts and official reports to know what Villain was. That much was obvious. They were a villain. Whatever their backstory, whatever their past, they were dangerous.

Right?

Counselor’s gaze drifted back to those restraints. Those simple straps, dangling from a metal bedframe.

At some point, Villain may have been dangerous. But not right now. Right now, they needed help, and that was exactly what Counselor was going to give them.

And, if they wanted that plan to go anywhere, they would have to start with the doctor who harmed their own patient.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

This time, when Medic answered the knocking on their door, their glasses were on the right way around. They blinked a few times, rubbing their eyes, hardly noting as the piping hot cup of coffee was pushed into their hands.

The doctor glanced down at the beverage before looking back up to meet their visitor’s gaze.

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Well, that was before. For now, we need to talk.”

“If this is decaf again, I swear I’m going to strangle you.”

“It’s not. Though the same threat applies to you if you try to go back to the med bay.”

“I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m our only doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too.”

“Psychology doesn’t count.”

“Fair enough.”

“If we’re done threatening each other, then, would you care to, I don’t know, tell me why you’re bothering me?”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“Do I even need to ask what about?”

“I think you already know that. Come on. You have your coffee, so there’s no excuses.”

“You really think I’m going to be that penitent about this?”

“Maybe.”

Medic rolled their eyes, but did not protest any further as Counselor turned and walked off. The two moved to a rather isolated table, tucked away in the corner of a hallway. The cafeteria was far too crowded at the moment to host such a discussion.

On opposite sides of the table, the opposites sat. Two cups of coffee clinked down on the wooden surface.

Counselor took a sip of their drink, placing the cup back down and raising their gaze. Medic frowned, lips turning downwards even further than usual.

“What, are we planning on talking through telepathy or- Come on, Counselor, stop looking at me like that. I hate that.”

“Then are you going to say anything?”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“You said you knew what this was about.”

“Maybe.” Medic shrugged dismissively. The doctor had been horribly standoffish, ever since Villain had been captured. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start trying to guess your thoughts.”

Counselor took another sip.

“Fine, then. I can start.” Sip. Clink. “Villain told me something very interesting, earlier.”

“You really believe them?”

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

“Then stop wasting time, maybe.”

“Villain says that you’re making them sick.”

Medic’s brows furrowed.

“That’s what they said?”

“Pretty much verbatim, yes.”

“Well.” Medic took a hesitant drink of their coffee. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your time on a notion like that. What they are is paranoid. I don’t doubt that they think I’m making them sick. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re saying that your patient is lying.”

“Maybe not lying. That would imply that they know what they’re saying is not true. They are sick, I will not deny that. And they are not responding to treatment. I can’t say that anything I’ve tried so far has made it any better, but it certainly hasn’t made it worse.”

“Why would they believe such a thing without reason?”

Medic exhaled.

“Because, in Villain’s mind, they do have reason. They have a child’s understanding of medicine. They are sick, and they are under my care and taking my medicines, and thus, in their mind, one of these things has caused the other.”

Counselor cast their gaze downwards, focusing on the way their milk danced its way through the black beverage before them. It was a reasonable explanation. Maybe. They may not have trusted Medic, but they trusted Medic’s abilities as a doctor.

Could Villain really be wrong?

“If they’re wrong...” Counselor began again. “Then what is making them sick? Their incident with hypothermia was weeks ago, now. It can’t still be that?”

“I doubt the two are connected. If this was all a matter of post-hypothermic reactions, then we wouldn’t be seeing these kinds of symptoms.”

“What is it, then?”

Medic bit their bottom lip.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? They’ve been in your care for... well over a week, now.”

“You think I don’t know that? If you haven’t noticed, I’m the world’s leading expert on Enhanced biology. Not to mention, y’know, an experienced doctor for normal humans. Whatever this is, it’s not a normal sickness. I’ve done every test I can think of.”

“And... it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Not as badly as you might be fearing. Their weakness is worsening, yes, as is their general mental state. But their vitals are fine. They’re not in serious danger of anything, so long as they don’t hurt themself.”

“You think they’d do that?”

“Given just how bad their confusion has been getting? I’m already putting preventative measures in place.”

“Oh.”

Medic raised a brow.

“You thought I restrained them for no reason? I’m not Leader. There are medical regulations about this sort of thing.”

“They’ve been hurting themself?”

“Not what you may be thinking of. But with how bad their weakness has grown, they can’t exactly stand up without aid, at the current moment. Forget walking. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have realized this.”

“They’ve fallen?”

“A few times, yes. If that is all, I was really just starting to enjoy my day off, so-”

“Wait.” Counselor shook their head. “People don’t get sick for no reason.”

“Congrats, you know a basic medical fact.”

“You know what I mean. You’re the smartest person I know. You must have, I don’t know, a theory? A hypothesis? Anything?”

Medic blinked, placing down their cup.

“I do. Though right now, I have no way of proving it.”

“What is it?”

“Villain has what we call... psionic powers. Powers that affect only a person’s brain, but not their physical body. It’s the rarest type of power, oftentimes because something you can’t see is often something you can’t detect. Thus, this group of powers is poorly understood, to say the least. But I’m sure you know what power fatigue looks like for other Enhanced.”

“Like when Hero broke their leg?” Counselor guessed.

“Yes. The simple act of overexerting ones powers, even without outside injury, can cause physical injuries like that to develop.”

“You think Villain’s having power fatigue?”

“It’s my best guess. It would check all the boxes. An undetectable illness affecting the brain, but nothing else. A never before seen condition.”

“But... is it something you can cure?”

“I can’t cure tiredness.” Medic shook their head. “That’s really not how it works. I can do my best to counteract the symptoms, but so long as the source is still there, I’d be fighting uphill.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can remove the source.” The tiniest smirk crept onto the doctor’s countenance. “Power fatigue is caused not by using ones powers, but using them in a way that the body cannot handle. At least, as far as we can tell. If Villain can control their powers enough, their symptoms should go away.”

“You really think so?”

“I hesitate to guarantee anything. Not with how poorly understood the condition is.” That smirk fell, replaced by Medic’s resting expression of annoyance. “But training them to use their powers properly is the only way I can see them getting any better.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that I would really like to go back to my quarters. If you’re done bothering me?”

Counselor bit their tongue.

“Fine.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Counselor had momentarily considered returning to their own quarters, but had quickly decided against it, instead turning to the kitchen. They had yet to eat that morning, as had Villain. They figured that a warm meal might help them shake off the sedatives.

And, maybe, some food would make Counselor’s own stomach stop twisting.

They only made it halfway to the kitchen, however, when in the hallway, they nearly slammed into Hero. The two both yelped, and a slosh of Counselor’s coffee slopped to the floor.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” Hero asked. There was considerable nerve in their voice.

Counselor nodded. “You just started me, ‘s all.” They glanced down at the spilling coffee now sitting on the tile floor. “I’ll, uh, get that later. I was just heading to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Um, could it wait?”

“I need to bring Villain something to eat.”

“Can it wait?”

“What-”

Counselor’s gaze drifted to Hero’s twitching hand.

“You have something?”

“Mhm. I don’t think it’s going to take very long.”

“Can I see?”

“Not here. Not with everyone else around.”

Counselor raised their brows quizzically, but nodded.

“To your quarters, then?”

“I guess that’s as good of a place as any.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

As soon as Counselor was out of sight, Medic changed their trajectory.

The musty air that filled their lab acted on them like a drug, sending a calm shiver down their spine. If they had the day off (or if they were being forced to take it off), there was no way they were going to spend that precious little free time moping in their quarters. Not when they could be here.

They sat, the memory foam of their desk chair still molded to their form. The laptop before them booted up with a familiar chirp and bright pink screensaver, written upon in white text:

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

The grainy selection of videos blinked before them, and they selected the next one in the series. Even if they didn’t have access to their Asset at the current moment, they could at the very least work ahead.

The screen fizzled to life in all its low-definition glory, displaying a familiar room, its walls plastered with protective black rubber, and its tile floor made of the same material.

The presenter wore a bandage on their face, covering the side of their jaw. The gauze warped as they smiled, but they seemed to make no note of it.

Beside them, the presenter’s own Asset stood. The muzzle around their face had been modified, its metal warped as to compress its wearer’s jaw, to the point that even breathing was an impossibility.

Extreme, perhaps, but based on the Asset’s behavior, it was warranted.

Though their movements were weak and unbalanced, they were persistent, not ceasing yanking against their leash for the slightest moment. This time, unlike before, the presenter seemed to be paying attention to them, though they did not seem worried.

“It has been some time since we last spoke.” They began. “I apologize for the delay, but, hopefully, it will not happen again. After all, training our Assets is a full time job.”

A smile. Cheerful, stretching their cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I must report that the recent delay we experienced was as a result of my own Asset lashing out. This was unfortunate, but it made me realize that there is a flaw in my training methods. A flaw I seek to instruct you, today, on how to remedy.

One advantage we trainers have is that we have 24/7 access to our Assets. As we take care of them, we can choose to meet their needs in whatever way we see fit.

Deprivation has always been a part of Asset training, since we pioneered our methods. But it was something I, unfortunately and unwisely, neglected. And I have done you all a disservice by not mentioning it to you.

In order for training to truly take effect, there must be room in an Asset’s mind for it to fit. A reason for them to follow. Fear, certainly, is this reason, but there are other aspects to control.

Following my Asset’s incident, we have been working using these methods of deprivation. Depriving your Asset of things such as nutrients, water, and sleep can significantly speed up and solidify your training. In this lesson, we will go over this, and how it can help you improve your training methods.”

The presenter’s smile was matched by their Asset’s wicked snarl. From the corners of their mouth, licks of flame emerged, just for the slightest moment.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Hero handled the flash drive as though it were a bomb.

Perhaps it was, if the writing on the device was at all to be believed. Scrawled on in sharpie, a hastily written yet well received warning.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

As if Organization cared about the law.

Hero seated themself in their office chair, leaving Counselor to sit a few feet back, on their bed. They almost flinched, plugging the flashdrive into their laptop.

For a moment, the computer hummed, before it reported chipperly that new files had been added.

“Uh, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Leader gave it to me.”

“Did they say what it was.”

Hero shook their head. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Still moving terribly nervously, Hero opened the folder that the computer had created for these ‘new files.’

“It’s... videos.”

“Videos?”

“A couple of them, yeah.”

“Should we... play them?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, if Organization is involved, I’m not sure I want to know what’s on them.”

“It could help Villain.”

Hero sighed, dipping their head.

“I hate when you’re right.”

With deft fingers, they selected the first video.

It had been so long, since any of them had seen Traitor. More than that, it had been so long since any of them had seen Traitor smile.

And yet, that was what they were doing. Grinning, ear to ear, eyes locked upon the camera.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the second edition of the Asset Training Video Course. If you are confused, the first edition of this series was, unfortunately, cut short due to... an incident. We will all miss our last presenter, but that does not mean that our duties can be shirked.”

Traitor turned, looking offscreen, calling:

“Veni huc.”

The language the words were in was clearly not English, but the person who moved on-screen did not seem concerned by that fact.

Villain smiled as well, though their warm gaze had an inquisitive quality to it as they regarded the camera. A chain-link collar was arranged about their neck, but it was attached to nothing, and seemed to more or less hang limply.

“For this series, I will be demonstrating all you need to know about Asset training. This, here, is my own Asset, Cadet. As you can tell, they are very well trained, if I do say so myself. They will be helping me show you how to train your own assigned Asset.”

Traitor’s hand reached for Villain, who did not flinch a moment. Their hand ruffled Villain’s hair affectionately.

Villain smiled, and leaned into the touch.

[acourtofsnakes]

Jetii'kad - Rogue, Chapter 22| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

GIF by @di-kut​​

Summary: Your training with Ahsoka moves on to new, exciting levels and a comms call with Din threatens to shatter the peace of the last few weeks. 

Warnings: Not too many in this actually. Swearing - I don’t think there is, but I’ll pop it on just in case, injury, falling, me making things up about Jedi training

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: Oh, dear. 

Rogue Msterlist: 1: Solus | 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl ^ | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur ^ | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran | 9. E’tad | 10: Tome * | 11: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din * | 12: Mar’eyce**^ | 13: Kov’nyn | 14: Ne’tra ^ | 15: Or’dinii | 16: Dar | 17: Haalur | 18: Mesh’la** | 19: Talyc ^^ | 20: Jorhaa'ir ^^ | 21: Hibirar | 

Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal

Mando’a Translation: Jetii’kad - Lightsaber; Literally: Sword of the Jedi

Another couple of weeks had passed, and things were still going incredibly well. 

You were flying through your training, and Ahsoka was continually impressed with you. There were still days where your past threatened to choke you, but Ahsoka was there to help you work it through. 

Din had taken to going on small hints that took him away for a few days at a time. He was comfortable and satisfied that the pair of you and the kids were safe here - and happy. 

Ahsoka had previously had some trouble with the town, but that had been resolved now and she still chose to reside here on Corvus peacefully whilst looking for things herself.

So, Din had gone off after getting a comms message from Greef about some small bounty missions. 

He’d been uncharacteristically like a mother hen the first time he left. You’d had to practically throw him in the Crest and send it into the sky yourself. He’d also checked in every night and morning, making sure everyone was okay and you weren’t pushing yourself too hard. 

It didn’t bother you, his worrying or checking in. If anything, it just filled you with a blissfully sweet warmth that wrapped around your heart and soul. 

You hadn’t had anyone do such things in… far longer than you could remember. 

And maybe because you were equally as worried about him. 

Oh, to be in love. 

You did miss him when he was gone, there was no denying that.

He had been by your side almost every single day since he picked you up on Sorgan, and to not have him there was a bit of a shock. You found yourself turning around to say something to him... only he wasn’t there. It wasn’t just the conversation either, it was the little things. 

Like the brush of his hand over your lower back or hand, his shoulder bumping against yours as you walked, him flanking you like a broad, metallic guard. 

Even just the sound of his laughter or the soft clink of beskar as he moved. 

It felt like he had taken a limb with him, leaving you unbalanced and off-centre. 

Although had you been truly on your own, it would have been a hell of a lot worse. But there were a few things in particular that made it easier. Training, the kids and Ahsoka of course, but mainly... the next thing you had moved onto. 

Lightsaber training. 

You hadn’t expected to even get near the training sabers - poles of the same size and near weight of lightsabers, used to get acquainted with the momentum and movements - for months. But Ahsoka had informed you a couple days ago that she truly believed you were ready so soon. Like you were born for this. 

You were ecstatic, beside yourself with glee when you told Din over your comms call that night that you’d be starting. The man had been so proud of you, complimenting you the whole call until the praise turned his voice to a lower pitch, that honey rasp that heated your blood and your call had turned into a very different kind of praise and reward until the early hours of the morning. 

All the stars above, this man would be the death of you one day. 

Ahsoka had pretended not to notice the lingering flush on your cheeks the next morning as she set you to work with the poles, explaining the basics of grip and balance.

At first, you were rather clumsy. Your weapons of choice were either a bow, daggers or long knives. At the most, you’d sometimes practised with Din’s beskar spear, but a saber would be a length between your longest knife and Din’s spear.

Hence why you spent the first day with the training pole slipping out of your hands, nearly taking off your foot at one point. 

However, you kept going, determined to prove that Ahsoka’s pride and instincts about you hadn’t been wrong. 

That your own steadily growing belief in yourself hadn’t been wrong either. 

After your nightly calls with Din, you took yourself off to the edge of the clearing, practicing your saber movements. 

You worked through the drills Ahsoka gave you in the day, spinning and whirling until you could move across the floor of the clearing silently, whipping the training pole through the air like an extension of your arm. 

You knew a real one would take more practice, more care and precision but this was a good start – you were proud of yourself, actually. 

There was only one thing bothering you and you hadn’t told Din or Ahsoka. 

See, there was this… feeling inside you. A small, swirling darkness that sat in your chest. 

It wasn’t the same as the heavy cloud that sometimes lowered over your mood and mind… No, this was a different kind of darkness. 

This darkness yearned for… destruction. Devastation. 

To bring down pain and fury on all of those that hurt you. To tear apart their lives the way yours had been torn. But not just your life, but the people that had hurt Din and Grogu. 

Those who had made Ahsoka choose to banish herself. 

And it scared you because, well… you had wanted those things for a long, long time. From back when your powers were once again dormant, and you often hesitated between knocking a hunter out – or killing them. And when that dark cloud had first emerged, it gave you the power to butcher those who dared come after you. 

That was the first time your bounty price has risen. Word got out that you were taking down elite members of the Guild, Stormtroopers, high ranking noble fighters from far off planets. 

The scared little girl with no family had given way to a deadly assassin who would strike with the speed of a serpent and had the venom of one too. 

That same version of yourself often walked in your dreams, and lately, you felt her lingering at the shadows around your peripheral. She had risen from her long slumber, triggered perhaps by the understanding of Haran’s words, back when he had kidnapped you. 

This assassin… she would recognise the horrors he had committed, the monster that prowled in his skin but… she would understand. Because the same monster prowled beneath her own skin. 

Two kindred spirits who’s lives had been torn apart by monsters who refused to understand. 

And last night… last night you’d awoken from a dream-like state, only to find yourself nearly a mile from the camp. 

As if you were going for that hunt right away. 

You’d been shaken, that lingering craving for destruction still sitting heavy in your chest as you hurried back to camp. 

No. 

You couldn’t tell the others at all. 

~~

“So, are you ready to move onto the next stage of your training today?” Ahsoka faced you across the clearing you often practiced in, the strange, murky haze shifting today to something closely resembling sunlight. 

You nodded, trying not to look too eager as you watched her, limbs already loosened up and warmed, ready to go. “Ready.” 

Ahsoka smiled a little at your eagerness, her hands clasped behind her back, “Now, this is usually something that Jedi get trained to do near the end of their learning. After they’ve mastered the essentials of the Force, honed them to use in everyday life and in battle, they have to learn the theory and history of this next part. Then extensive training and only after they’ve proved with the practice weapons that they won’t take off someone’s leg or their own arm, then they are simply just considered for this next phase.”

You began to read where she was going with this, and you had to bite your lip to contain the squeal of excitement that threatened to burst forth from your chest. 

She knew this, of course. 

“But, you’ve risen up through the training quicker than even I thought. And with the life you lead…  I don’t see why you aren’t ready.” She moved her arms from behind her, holding out her hand. 

She was holding out a tube. 

A sleek, silver tube that was ever so slightly curved… it was one of her own. 

She was going to let you train with one of her own lightsabers. 

Your head snapped up to look at her as your breathing caught in your throat, “Ashoka… This is… I can’t use this. What if I break it?” You gripped your own elbows, forcing your hands not to be all grabby and reach for it like they so desperately yearned to. 

Ahsoka chucked softly despite herself, “What did I teach you?” She still held out the saber, the hazy sun glinting off of the metal. 

You thought back to all your lessons, but already knew where she was going with this, “Never doubt my Master.” 

She raised an eyebrow, wiggling the tube almost teasingly, “And?” 

You puffed out a breath through your cheeks, rolling your eyes, “Never doubt myself.” You shot her a look, all playful, friendly bantering… because she was right. 

She grinned beautifully, a rare sight, “See. I wouldn’t let you touch this if I didn’t think you were ready. Or trust you.” Her expression softened, “You have nothing to fear from yourself, Padawan.” She used the name affectionately, remembering it from her own times of being young and unsure, eager to prove herself. 

You studied her face, reading the confidence there, the understanding, and you thought of the belief in yourself that had been regrowing for a while now. Almost immediately, your shoulders relaxed, and you let go of your arms, instead reaching out for the saber. You hesitated for a brief moment, but then took it, holding it carefully and bringing it back toward your body. 

As soon as you touched it, you could have sworn it thrummed with energy, a gentle pulse that sung through your blood and veins and spoke to you. It made you feel immediately… whole. Settled. 

This had been what you were missing. 

Ahsoka watched you, studying the was your face softened, the light growing in your eyes. Your stance had changed too, more balanced and self-assured. “Activate it.” 

You looked up at her, holding your breath for a moment and you lifted the saber, taking a second to think. 

All your life… had been leading to this moment, really. 

As soon as you activated this saber, you were stepping into the role that had been in your blood, always. Not a Jedi, but something different. 

Entirely unique.

Every trauma you had gone through, every wave of pain as you tried to restrain your true self. The stigma and fear, the admiration from those that believed and chose to help you… even if it had ended up in their own demise, despite your best efforts. 

This all flashed through your mind quickly, before it cleared. Emptying of everything but the cool, flowing feeling of the Force and so, you shifted your thumb and activated it. 

Glowing, white energy burst upward as the crystal was activated, pushing away the murky haze and filling the small area around you with that pure light. 

Beautiful, radiant… true. 

Ahsoka Tano smiled more, activating her remaining lightsaber with that pulsing hum, “And now we begin.” 

~~

The moon shone high in the murky sky, casting everything with a milky glow as you settled into your tree of choice. 

It was your nightly call to Din, and you often called him whilst perched in one of the more substantial trees, so as to not disturb Ahsoka with the noise. You knew she fell asleep late and rose early, but you still wanted to be polite. 

It was also more to make sure Grogu didn’t wake up – he was a little monster for not going back to sleep again. Din called in the day sometimes, to speak to Grogu but the nights… they were just for the two of you. 

You watched the hologram display, which told you the call was patching through. 

Your model of the comms watch didn’t allow for video calls, but its sound quality was crystal clear, almost as if you were standing right next to Din. 

You almost hadn’t been able to wait for your call tonight, to tell him all about your day learning. 

The training had gone… really, really well. 

Ahsoka had shown you the basics of handling the saber so you wouldn’t slice through your toes, how to move with the glowing beacon of energy and use it most effectively. 

It was different to the training spears, but it was a concept you grasped quickly. 

Your past training and skill in combat came in useful, for you were already light and nimble on your feet. 

The pair of you had trained over and over, until you were both dancing across the clearing, spinning and leaping around each other, aided by the Force and lighter than the air itself. 

It was a spectacular light show for the kids, who were cheering – or meowing – in delight throughout the whole thing. 

And, at the end, when you were both panting and a little flushed, Ahsoka had dropped to a knee in front of you, inclining her head in a soft bow, “It’s an honour to fight with you, and teach you.” 

Ahsoka Tano… praising you. Feeling honoured by you. 

By the Maker and all the stars above, you still couldn’t get over that. 

There was more to learn, much more, but Ahsoka had been so impressed, she promised a day off tomorrow where the four of you would explore some of the rare, beautiful spots on the planet. 

You had so much to tell Din. 

It took Din little longer than usual for him to answer, but you put that down simply to the distance between you, and the storm that Ahsoka said was going to roll in soon. 

A few minutes later, the ringing tone pinged, and Din’s voice filled the air, “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Those two simple words, the gentle rasp of them that was all honey and roughness just instantly soothed your very soul. It caressed over your body, much like Din’s hands, and you let out a soft sigh, your chest loosening, “Hey, Din… How are you?” 

There was a lot of wind his end, rushing through the mic but then it stopped, like he’d turned a different way, “I’m okay, tired. But better hearing your voice.” 

Sweet-talker.

You grinned to yourself, tilting back your head, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Your leg swung lazily from the branch, a picture of relaxation now that you were talking to your love. 

Din grunted, the wind suddenly roaring through the line again, blocking out whatever he was saying to you. 

You frowned, wincing as the gust made the line all staticky, “Din, what are you doing? It sounds like you’re on the back of one of those reptavian from Nevarro.” However, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a sense telling you that you weren’t going to like whatever came next. 

There were a few moments hesitation, and you could almost hear Din wishing the ground – or maybe air – would swallow him whole, “Um…” 

Oh. 

You really weren’t going to like this. 

Dread coiled with apprehension in your belly, a tight feeling creeping along your skin, “Um? What do you mean, um? Tell me, Din.” There was a sharpness to your tone, one that he knew well. 

It was a ‘don’t you dare lie to me’ tone. 

A very soft noise over the wind and Din started to speak, but then was cut off by a burst of rapid, loud fire. 

Blaster fire. 

He was being shot at. 

Your heart nearly dropped through your stomach, and you had to grab hold of the tree branch so you didn’t fall out. A light trembling shook your hands, but your voice was still steady, “Din Djarin, was that blaster fire?!” 

It sounded like Din seemingly retaliated, because then his voice came back, “Okay… Okay, promise me you won’t get mad.” There was a pleading note to his words, but it seemed like he was cringing, waiting for the blow up.

“Too late.” You hissed those two words through gritted teeth, heart pounding with fear in your chest. “If you keep avoiding my questions, it’s going to get a whole lot worse.” 

Din sucked in a breath, and then let it out all in a rush, “I’m at an Imperial base.” 

Silence from you. 

So quiet, Din would have been able to hear the owls in the trees. Maybe even the fire crackling down below. 

The words echoed around in your mind slowly, unfolding and repeating. 

He had to be joking. Din wouldn’t be that reckless.

“Sweetheart…?” Din was hesitant, worried by your silence, when he’d been expected fire - and shouting. 

You closed your eyes, more to rein in your impending anger, to give you something to focus on, so that your voice remained quiet when you spoke, “And what, might I ask, are you doing at an Imperial base?”

He audibly swallowed, still grunting and seemingly dodging the shots being fired at him from Stormtroopers, “Well, I was on a hunt and I found talk of an Imp base nearby causing trouble in the town. I asked what it was and…” He hesitated for a second before realising that might simultaneously worry you and make you even more mad “And the townspeople told me they were looking for someone. Someone with a huge bounty… a girl.”

It was like someone poured ice water over your body. 

There was a whole Imp base… looking for you?

Sure, a few Stormtroopers had come after you before, and then those ones that had ambushed you before Haran showed up but... a whole base…

Don’t think about that though. That’s secondary.

“Okay… And what, they sold you out to the Imps? Told them you were hunting nearby?” Maybe you had jumped to conclusions a little quickly. 

Of course Din wouldn’t have gone to a base and ambushed it. If the townspeople wanted to stop the trouble, maybe they thought giving information to the Imps would be a good idea.  It would make sense. Plenty of people had sold you out the very same way to save themselves, and you hadn’t been able to blame them. 

More blaster fire, but it was a little further away this time. It still didn’t stop you flinching with each shot, waiting for the inevitable grunt of pain from Din.

“Uhm… not exactly. I… asked Cara and a few old friends to help me. We… infiltrated it and tried to find the information they had on you, but they realised who we were.” Din’s voice was halted, stumbling over the word ‘infiltrated’. It was choked somehow, as if was grappling with retelling you the story. 

Something had happened in there… And then it occurred to you. 

If they infiltrated the base… Din wouldn’t have bene able to waltz in there with his beskar armour on. 

He would have to have blended in. 

Which meant… he took off the armour. 

Before you could mention it, he was talking, his words quieter in that voice that meant trouble, “We managed to get out and…”

The trembling had taken over your entire body, a voice in your head chiming that Din was lying, that he was joking with you because he wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t do what you knew he was going to say… “And?” A single word, weighted. 

You heard Din swallow, and then, “We kind of… blew it up…” 

Silence, again. 

Laughter then suddenly burst from your mouth, albeit slightly hysterical laughter, but still. One minute you were staring at the moon in utter horror, and the next you were doubled over in fits of giggles.

“Sweetheart…?” Now Din just sounded concerned. He had expected another blow up the moment you realised what was going on, and so far, none of it had happened the way he thought. And now here you were, laughing? 

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, “I’m sorry, it’s just – for a moment there, I really believed you!” You covered your mouth, trying to stifle the increasing hysteria, “I really believed you had infiltrated an Imperial base with a tiny crew, to find information out on me you could have got from capturing an Imp, and then you make it even better by trying to convince me you blew up a base!” You leant back against the tree, your heart rate picking up unsteadily, sweat pooling in your hands and you felt your power thrum through your blood. 

“Darling - ”

“Ooh, you really nearly had me there, Din. And I’m so glad you’re joking, because no way would you yell at me endlessly for getting kidnapped and then plunged into a frozen lake – none of which was my fault – telling me I’m reckless and stupid… and then go off on a little joyride to destroy Imperial strongholds.” The laughter was melting away, your voice getting more frantic and pleading, like you were begging him to tell you he was joking. 

The wind rushed through the comm’s call again, the sounds of Din twisting in the air, presumably with the Rising Phoenix to steer clear of the ground forces, “Sweetheart, listen to me.” His voice was steady, soothing, “I’m fine, okay? I’m completely fine. I’m not doing this to be reckless, or stupid, or hypocritical. They have information on you and there are hundreds of them. If they’re gone, they can’t hurt you. They won’t know where to find you.” 

His words were doing nothing to soothe you, “Don’t patronise me, Din. You can’t tell me you’re fine and then tell me there are hundreds of Troopers after you. There are only… what, four of you?” Your breathing was coming in sharp pants now, images of Din’s broken body, blood on white armour and dark dungeons flashing through your mind’s eye.

“Five.” Din spoke the word softly, and you nearly didn’t hear it over the rushing wind and sounds of fighting. 

Another laugh that sounded more like a sob, “Oh, five? Like that’s so much better!! I don’t doubt your abilities, Din. You know I believe in you more than anything in the world, but this is… I can’t believe you would do this.” The words were a trembled whisper at the end, fear clutching at your heart once more. It was starting to choke you, turn your blood to slush and your bones to ice. 

The thought of losing him was something that kept you awake frequently. Sometimes it would hit you out of nowhere in the day, the idea of living the rest of your life without them by your side. 

Gone, little more than a gravestone and memories. 

The thought made you physically sick, having you have to run to the nearest place to expel that terror in heaving gasps. 

You’d hidden that from Ahsoka and Din too. 

Distantly, it occurred to you that you should hang up, let him have his full concentration back but… you couldn’t help the horrid thought that if you hung up... you would never speak to him again.

Din knew this, heard it all in the tone of your voice, in the things you couldn’t and didn’t need to say. He knew you weren’t mad at him, not like that. It was the same anger he had felt when he thought he’d lost you. The gut-wrenching fear of not being able to do anything – the anger at the helplessness. “I promise you; everything is okay. I will be fine; my friends will be fine, and no one will get hurt. We’re nearly done already. Breathe, sweetheart. You’re not going to lose me. We promised each other, remember?”

That’s true… you had. You’d promised each other that you would never part this life alone. When one left, the other would follow. 

You swallowed, trying to take a deep breath in through your nose and out your mouth, “Okay…. Okay. Just… come home, okay?”

“Of course, darling. I’ll be home just as soon as-”

A piercing pulse shattered his voice, searing through the speaker on your watch with its resounding whistle. 

Your breathing exercises halted immediately, “Din? Din?!” 

No, no no no - 

It means nothing. Just a close call knocking out the signal, that’s all. That’s all it is. 

A burst of static shot into the night air, and then you heard broken up, jagged snippets of Din’s voice, undeterminable pieces of speech. 

“Din, Din I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up... Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay, please Din.” Your throat closed up again, the dark beast in your chest snarling as it tasted that terror, feeding on it and spreading through you with those horrific images. 

The part of you that craved destruction, that shadowy assassin woke up, bringing forth the vengeance, ready to tear them apart piece by piece if Din had been hurt.

More static and wind and then something that you would haunt your waking and sleeping dreams for a very, very long time.  

The signal unjammed, and clear as crystal, you heard Din’s broken cry of pain. Of agony. 

A harsh noise you had never heard before. 

It was stunned, dragged from within him by a wound that must have hit deep and sudden. 

The world seemed to go still on its axis, everything slowing down to a halt.

The entwined golden threads of your lives pulled taut, stretching apart from each other. 

Your heart tore to pieces. 

“DIN!!” His name broke on a sobbing cry, making the surrounding birds take flight from the bare branches, causing Grogu to wake up down below but you didn’t care. 

The line had just gone silent, just as one of those threads began to fray. 

~~

~

He was falling. 

Down, down, down toward the ground, smoke billowing from his back. 

He was an exploding star, a falling planet, hurtling toward the floor with a speed he couldn’t reduce. 

Thirty metres. 

The speed of his fall and the force of it caused darkness to pull over his vision momentarily, casting everything into shadow and silence before it all came flooding back. 

Everything was a blur of colour, whipping past the visor of his helmet in a smudge of brown, grey and green. The wind roared past him, battering the armour that used to be his savour, soon to be his tomb. 

Twenty metres.

The impact of the ground on his armour would shatter his bones and spine, cracking his head open and ending him instantly. 

Maybe he’d be lucky, and it wouldn’t be painful. 

Or he’d pass out before he crashed. 

Ten metres. 

His family was safe, at least. That eased his mind somewhat. It would be hard getting off the planet, but they’d find a way.

Eight metres.

There’d be nothing left of him to find. An anonymous man in a beskar tomb, body broken beyond recognition. The people who would soon find him may very well be the first to see his face in… years. 

Six metres. 

And they weren’t the right ones. 

They weren’t her.

No, he’d finally reached a place where he felt safe to reveal himself. Only his hands first, but that was enough. He wanted to give more, so very badly but… he just couldn’t, not yet. But that was okay. He knew she’d understand, be more than happy with that reveal of the very pieces of his anatomy that had started all of this. 

His hands, running over her skin, tracing the delicate work of her tattoo. 

Three metres. 

Two meters. 

“I love you.” His gasped words were snatched by the air before they even left his lips, and he hoped the wind would carry them to the person they had always belonged to.  

One metre. 

“Goodbye, cyar'ika.”

“Thank you for showing me a world worth living.” 

~~~

~~

“Sir?” 

The young woman’s voice was steady and strong, breaking him from his thoughts as she knocked on the door to the war room. She’d been working here for a year now and had swiftly risen up the ranks. 

She was essentially his right hand, and he knew she wore that token proudly. There were no official titles given, but she was his best officer. 

She had been the one to locate the Mandalorian the first time around – and had also been the one to find the girl. 

That was why he had felt confident when she suggested hiring the Shadow-Born hunter to track them both down. And she hadn’t been wrong yet. 

“What is it, officer?”

She saluted, then stood tall, shoulders back, chin raised enough to be respectful, but not so much it was defiant. She looked him in the eyes, “We’ve found him, sir. He was responsible for blowing up the Imperial base, along with a group of friends, including another Mandalorian, an ex-Shock Trooper, a wanted assassin and a prisoner from the Karthon Chop Fields. The Hunter shot him out of the sky and has already apprehended him. The accomplices are so far unaccounted for.”

A faint smile passed the man’s lips, hunger and victory setting a dark fire in his eyes. He nodded his head to the young officer, “Never-mind the rabble. Good work, officer. Tell them to bring him here. There will already be a cell prepared for him. You know which one.” 

The woman nodded, inclining her head and then she headed off, but not before he saw the small smile she allowed herself. 

Good work indeed. 

She had done more in the past twelve months than any of his senior officers had. Maybe he should see about naming her his official right hand. 

He turned back to the large open window of the cruiser, clasping his hands behind his back, breathing in a deep sigh. 

Finally. 

When the Hunter had let the girl slip through his fingers, he’d been worried that he was being played for a fool. The hunter was unreliable, working to his own twisted agenda. If the Hunter betrayed him, there was no chance for the success and power that he deserved. 

But he needn’t have worried at all. 

He now had the one thing that would guarantee the girls cooperation. He had hoped for the Child too, but he could wait for that. 

It may have been slow going, and people may have called him deluded for trying to bring back the old ways… but here was the proof that things were finally going the way Moff Gideon had planned it all along. 

~~~

~~

If only he knew that his plan had been set in motion by another. The successes were not his to claim. 

The King of Shadows and Destruction was sitting at his board of death, moving each piece as the endgame approached, the final checkmate that would put to rest years and years of waiting and scheming. 

Previous | Next

[breanime]

Ohhh what about Angel, Coco, Rio, and Johnny (and probably all the boys) losing their shit over that one tik tok “ayo shawty, your man still around?” That would literally piss them off and you’d be cracking uppp 😂🤭

Billy Russo: As soon as he hears the man’s voice, he’s grabbing your phone and looking at it. “Who the fuck is this?” He asks, gripping your phone so hard, you think it might break. You’re already laughing your ass off, but Billy doesn’t think it’s funny. “Who was that?” He asks, hovering over you. “Y/N, stop laughing--who the fuck was that?” It takes you a minute to explain that it’s just a joke, but Billy has you bent over and paying for it before you’re even done explaining it. 

Logan Delos: Logan jumps up, parkours his way across the living room, and nearly tackles you to get to your phone. “Who the fuck? What the fuck?!” He cries (he’s on the floor at this point, clutching your phone). You’re laughing so hard, you’re crying, and it takes Logan a second to realize you were pranking him. “That isn’t funny, Princess, I almost had a heart attack!”

Jax Teller: The video didn’t even get past the “what’s good shawty” before Jax hand your phone in his hand, standing over you with a glare on his face. Opie, Juice, Tig, and Bobby nearly broke their necks getting over there, trying to see who the fuck was calling Jax’s girl. You and Juice are the only ones who know what’s going on, and as such, you’re both nearly in tears laughing as Jax and the guys wrestle your phone away from you. Your phone 100% gets broken in the excitement, but don’t worry--the video is saved on the Cloud. 

Coco Cruz: “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Is all that he says as he LITERALLY throws his beer to the ground and yanks your phone out of your hands, ready to KILL. Angel is laughing almost as hard as you are, and you stand up, soothing your loco Coco puff before he murders a meme. It takes him a few minutes to calm down. “Nah, who the fuck was that?” Is his only question, and it takes the combined efforts of you, Gilly, Angel, EZ, and Bishop to get him to see that it was a prank, and even then, he still wanted to know who the guy was...

Angel Reyes: Angel moves like the fucking exorcist, jumping over tables, chairs, and Chucky until he’s in front of you, grabbing at your phone while you laugh, pulling away from him. “Who the fuck is that?” He asks, reaching around you for your phone. “Hell yeah her boyfriend is around--gimme that shit!” EZ is already up and ready to kick some ass before he sees your face and realizes it’s a prank. Once Angel is in on the joke, he laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, okay, mi dulce, okay... Just so you know, payback is a bitch.”

Miguel Galindo: Miguel moves like a fucking shark, yanking your phone out of your hand before the guy is even done talking. As soon as he heard an unfamiliar male voice on your phone, he’s ready to cut somebody UP. “Who the fuck--” he stops, seeing that it’s just a prank, and sighs, shaking his head as he laughs. “Oh, my love...” His dark eyes narrow in on you, making your heart stop in your chest. “...You’re in trouble now.”

Nick Amaro: Nick is the king of insecurities and overreacting, so you bet your ass that he’s grabbing your phone, eyes wide and chest heaving. “Who the hell is this?!” He demands, and you jump up, wrapping your arms around him and explaining that it was nothing. He retaliates by picking you up and carrying you to bed, admonishing you in Spanish as he kissed all over you, grateful that you were his... even though you were a little shit. 

Johnny Tuturro: He’s like a freaking torpedo, tackling you as you lounged on the couch, grabbing your phone and floundering on top of you. “Who the fuck is that?!” He yelled, his hat on the floor as you pushed at him, trying to get him off of you. Mike was a few feet away, literally covering his mouth with his hand in total shook, scandalized and intrigued, as Paige laughed, hands on her knees as she watched Johnny basically twerk on top of you, trying to get a look at who was calling. When he realized what was happening, he immediately calmed, turning and wrapping his arms around you, kissing you as you giggled. 

Rio: Rio wasn’t giving you enough attention, but when you played that video--you had his full attention for SURE. Rio muttered “what the fuck” before he stalked up to you and snatched your phone, already thinking of where he could hide the body. “It’s a joke,” you laughed, reaching up from your place on the couch, “It’s just a joke, baby, I swear--” Rio growled, tossing your phone over his shoulder and reaching down for you, pulling you up and pressing his lips against yours harshly. He didn’t say much, but he definitely made it clear who you belonged to, and when he was done, he turned to you, his dark eyes washing over your sweaty body, and said “Your ass better be too sore to fucking pull that shit on me again.” Lucky for him--it was. 

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! This took me forever to write because I was watching compilation videos for like 15 minutes hahahaha! Which one was your favorite?

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25  @mrsjaxtellerfan  @rhabakoli  @encounterthepast @realduckvader   @justvnash @knowles-morgan  @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19  @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86  @luminex3 @jigsawlover10  @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams  @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @nich0lasmatthews @ben-c-group-therapy @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel @vibranium-soul @xserenax-13  @whoaitslucyy-blog  @gemini0410

[trials-by-blood]

Male with Gender Neutral S/O. S/O is protective over their Yautja. One day, on the mothership, a female gets interested in the male. S/O firmly shows the male is theirs. Male is very impressed by their antics. (If possible, make it naughty ish. Like pulling on Yautja tresses. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. I don’t know what you’re rules are.)

Okay so, It’s done! Like another prompt, I decided I should consciously try to be concise and cap it off before going over 2500 words or else it could go on and on. Unfortunately, this couldn’t be naughty because I’ve made the decision to keep this blog at a PG-13 rating. I wound up RBing my original post (The one announcing open asks) with a loose outline of my rules after receiving this very ask. Yeah, I kinda had that “Uh-oh, I forgot the most important step” moment. 

This one sort of ran in a few unexpected and at times turbulent directions. I hope you enjoy this reply although it veered a little off course.

-Ghardeh-

The ooman was always a pain. Ghardeh called them H’ko. It was literally the word for no. Why did Ghardeh call the ooman this? Because it was the first word in Ghardeh’s language that they had learned and one they loved to use. No, no, no. “No” to proper clothing in the current yaut fashions, “No” to any food item they found suspicious, “No” to bathwater heated too hot, “No” to sleeping in the kehrite as unblooded should, “No” to observing Ghardeh’s hunts via a live stream transmitted from the eye lenses of his helm because they did not like the idea of possibly witnessing their companion’s death in real-time. A definite “NO” to learning to hunt as well. They didn’t have any interest in hunting to prove themselves. 

H’ko, H’ko, H’ko. Ghardeh had heard the word in that terrible accent so many times he’d begun mockingly repeating it back to the ooman out of frustration, eventually, it became their pet-name, and later it became a term of endearment. Ghardeh had long given up on the notion that H’ko would ever become a warrior, but that was fine, the ooman was proficient in mechanics and electrical work and it was a respectable profession for an ooman.

Bound for the Clan ship, Ghardeh did not worry much about the ooman’s safety. His clan worked with oomans regularly and in H’ko’s case, as they weren’t a warrior and wore typical ooman dressings, the people would regard them with the same scrutiny as the unblooded: well beneath the gaze of warriors. And yautja women? Well, they ignored their male counterparts ninety percent of the time too, doubtful they’d even register H’ko’s presence at all. Other yautja should simply pretend H’ko didn’t exist as they tagged along safe and sound under Ghardeh’s left arm, and if anyone spared them a second glance it would likely be assumed that H’ko’s role was that of a hired repairer and no more.

Ghardeh had prepped H’ko very sternly and more than once for this visit. Speak to no one above their rank. Do not make prolonged eye contact as it is seen as a challenge. The breeding season is near so if a female propositions, allow Ghardeh to decline and do not intercede. That last instruction was very important. 

Ghardeh had known that humans were often monogamous, and when asked H’ko confirmed that they would prefer not to share Ghardeh’s romantic attention with others. This was one of the many compromises in their unusual partnership. Ghardeh would sleep and engage in sex acts with H’ko and only H’ko, but they had agreed to allow Ghardeh to donate reproductive material non-sexually to females if it was asked of him. Ghardeh had to explain to the ooman: if you are a strong warrior and a fine hunter, it is your duty to contribute your traits to the next generation. They had accepted that aspect of yautja culture begrudgingly, taking a long time to think through and voice all concerns about it just as Ghardeh had done as well when it became apparent that his ooman companion did not enjoy the notion of their mate being dragged to a stranger’s bed chambers if a proposition was accepted. The ordeal of Yaut mating practices also seemed to upset them. A female will usually test a warrior to be absolutely certain that she’d chosen a sire well. This often involves dangerous feats or enduring a physical altercation. H’ko had been unhappy with the very common occurrence of males limping their way home after a failed encounter with a choosy woman.

Ghardeh was merely reviewing all of this information in his head whilst he lied on his back and massaged at the stress crease in his forehead with his knuckles. Tucked against his left side and in the crook of his arm was H’ko, snoring and blissfully unaware of Ghardeh’s anxiety. H’ko would be relatively safe for sure, but something always went wrong when he tried to bring them aboard the Clan Ship. Last time, H’ko accidentally got dragged off with another group of oomans after being mistaken for a member of an ambassadorial tour group. None of the actual ambassadors had the gall to inform their extraordinarily intimidating guide that H’ko was just some random person who was grabbed, scolded for wandering off -which they had, but not from that group-, and herded along with the rest of the soft little aliens. Ghardeh was tempted to tether H’ko to his own body this time, so they couldn’t move more than ten feet from him.

Ghardeh sat up and scrubbed a knuckle against his closed eyes as he prepared to leave the bed, then let a hand fall on H’ko’s shoulder to gently shake them awake. It was time to dress, eat, and prepare. 

Docking went smoothly, and disembarking was uneventful as well. They were greeted by Chulonte, a friend and hunt brother who knew H’ko well and even dipped his head slightly to acknowledge their presence.

“The meeting place has been reserved, we should go now, the others have already gathered,” Chulonte told them briskly before turning away and leading them on.

Ghardeh leaned toward H’ko and dropped a hand on their shoulder. “We’ll acquire a midday meal after the meeting, just the two of us.”

Ghardeh was pleased when H’ko gave him an earnest closed-mouth grin. H’ko liked when they ate alone yet in public. Called them “dates”. 

-Taylor-

Ghardeh was in the meeting with his equals, a loose coalition of hunters each with their own private hunting vessels who always coordinated with one another so that their time hunting on various worlds did not overlap. Apparently, there were laws in place to prevent over-hunting on some planets and to avoid over-exposure on others. Taylor was told to wait outside with Chulonte’s hounds. They were big ugly scaly beasts. One had a face like a cross between an English Bulldog and a cod, the other was nothing but a fangy maw of teeth and horny protuberances growing from its back but they were rather friendly, at least toward Taylor. Taylor wasn’t completely fluent in the Yautja dialects but it had seemed that, as a favor to Ghardeh, Chulonte had given his hunting hounds a command to guard the tiny human among them. The animals hovered close to where the human sat and would stand from their seated positions if any passerby veered too close. Taylor chanced a hand at petting them, Bulldog Face kept dropping his enormous head into the human’s lap for more attention, Spikey Back wasn’t into it and lied down just out of reach.

A group of women began to form nearby, but not too close, as Spikey Back had stood and shown the lot of them his teeth when they tried to form a cluster too near to where Taylor sat waiting for Ghardeh. Taylor could hear this and that which was said among the women. Some of the discussion was pretty damn raunchy. They were here to find action and had planned to greet the hunters when they conclude their meeting and disperse. They said things about what they wanted to do to the hunters they had chosen, sometimes what tests of strength and resilience they were expected to endure, but more often the discussions leaned heavily into overtly explicit themes. The woman who wanted Chulonte wanted to see if he could track by scent as accurately as his hounds could and if he succeeded in this test she would, and Taylor could only partially decipher the phrase, “??? him so ??? that his spine comes undone from his pelvis”. It made Taylor’s skin crawl, especially when all of the women laughed approvingly at what the other had said. Taylor hoped it was a lesser evil in being just a filthy joke but given how tall and strong they appeared, and how dangerous Ghardeh had told Talyor they were, they wondered if they really could injure their partners in such a way. It certainly seemed possible.

Taylor felt tension building in their chest. They heard them name off nearly all the hunters they’d seen enter the meeting room and every brutal ordeal they wished to subject them to, and it was only a matter of time before Taylor heard Ghardeh’s name. It happened, and when it did, the human’s pet name was mentioned as well. 

“Ghardeh is a difficult one to persuade, too difficult to bother with up until now. He now has rank advancements, clearly enough to afford him a live trophy. That’s worth some regard, but how to get rid of H’ko long enough to have adequate time with the man?”

“Seems like Chulonte’s dogs make fine enough guardians for it. Let us coordinate our liaisons then-”

Taylor couldn’t keep their mouth shut. They’d been infuriated by three ugly words. Live Trophy and, It.

“I am NOT a Live Trophy! And Ghardeh is NOT available for your abuse!” They shouted, causing both of the hounds to jerk to attention and search for a threat to their charge.

-Ghardeh-

Ghardeh had correctly predicted that the meeting would go very much as it had in all of the previous seasons, a few smooth agreements, a few disputes, a fight or two, and then they’d leave and continue about their personal business. He left that meeting room with lunch on his mind and the expectation that H’ko would be clamoring for a meal as well, he had not anticipated being met with the sight of them dangling from the grip of Dar-bak’di, the most fearsome of the local young women who roved in a pack during the breeding season. H’ko was kicking and gasping for air as they flailed in her grip, Chul’s hounds were being bribed into complicity by the other women offering them whatever morsels they had in their bags, and Dar-bak’di was making a show of how easily she could destroy a mere ooman. Now it was Ghardeh shouting H’ko! H’ko!

It took a great deal of convincing to get Dar-bak’di to release H’ko, and the limit of her mercy was to drop the gasping ooman on top of Ghardeh and call them both abominable, in addition to accusing Ghardeh of something akin to bestiality. Dar’bak-di had smelt Ghardeh’s amorous n'dui'se all over his ooman companion and she refused to believe it when she was told that H’ko was a legally hired mechanic. To perform mating practices with species classified as prey was frowned upon, but not against any written law. The truth of the matter was, H’ko was unbelievably lucky to survive the encounter and had, hopefully, learned something from it. 

-

The ooman did not argue or make a fuss on the way home, and whether they liked it or not they were carried. The bruising around their neck was already blooming into hot red blotches. Ghardeh said nothing of it but make no mistake, he was furious. He’d told H’ko in no ambiguous words not to engage in conversation much less an altercation with yautja women! And what did they do, start a fight they could never under any circumstances survive on their own.

Upon his Vessel, Ghardeh placed H’ko in bed and with the intention of letting them sleep the ordeal off. After leaving the room, he went to the galley to serve himself a drink before grabbing the kit to treat severe bruising, but heard the soft soles of H’ko’s feet padding behind him.

“Go back to the bed and rest,” Ghardeh told the ooman flatly without turning to look at them as he poured a glass of c’ntlip.

“They were saying terrible things,”

Ghardeh sighed and set aside the decanter before taking the first sip and responding.

“They’re lonely and horny, of course they were speaking in lewdisms. I warned you that they would speak this way about whatever they set their longing eyes upon.”

“But it was about you and-”

“I don’t care what was said about me! You disobeyed the most important instruction I have ever given you! You could have been rent to pieces! You directly challenged an individual no less than twice your height and perhaps four times your weight! Worse still, she was legally in the right to throw you through a wall if she wanted to!”

“She called me a Live Trophy!” H’ko shouted through a snarl.

The tone immediately triggered Ghardeh’s expression to twist and eyes to darken as he postured for a fight -albiet only a verbal one- but the words gave him a reason to pause as he processed what was said. Live Trophy, it was nothing else but a slur, and H’ko’s anger was justified. H’ko tended to show a fear response with tears and soft whines when they were angered, though, which Ghardeh was always bewildered by. A show of anger more familiar to Ghardeh had come first this time, perhaps because his own mannerisms had begun to rub off on the ooman, so a second pause was taken to scrutinize H’ko’s face. Ah, the grimace and tears were building behind the facade. Ghardeh deflated.

“She called you a Live Trophy?” he asked, softly this time as not to elevate H’ko’s anger further.

It was too late to abate the ooman’s upset. Fat droplets ran down their rounded face and they stopped making their oh-so-important eye contact as they nodded to confirm that, yes, they’d been called a live trophy.

Ghardeh moved in to close the distance between them in two strides before dropping both hands on his ooman mate’s shoulders with a great sigh. 

“We will treat the bruising on your neck, then we will prepare a meal on our ship, then we should talk about what happened.” 

H’ko did that typical human thing by saying nothing and gripping the yautja around the waist in an embrace. Ghardeh tried the rumble affectionately, but frankly, he was now furious beyond belief for all new reasons. Live Trophy. Had he known such a term had been thrown at his companion, he’d have been inclined to challenge her too.

“You were brave Tay-Lar, for defending your honor.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Ghardeh said with a genuine growl of approval this time, stroking the back of his companion’s round head.

[heartbreakgrill]

Best Friends; Matthew Gray Gubler

a/n: THE AMOUNT OF SERATONIN THIS GAVE ME WAS INSANE IM CRYING OMG

description: you’re a makeup artist and mgg is just...outgoing.

K BUT IMAGINE BROS

You’re just a regular ol’ makeup artist (and in this fantasy world, makeup artists are TRAINED TO DO MAKEUP ON POC BECAUSE THEY ALREADY SHOULD BE). It’s season 13 of Criminal Minds and this is your first time working on set because the show you’d been spending the majority of your career on just ended.

You had met the cast and crew at the start up party a few weeks ago, but this was the day. The pressure was on. (Not really, it’s just makeup lol). Anyway, so you’d already set up in the makeup trailer alongside the other artist. Today, scenes were going to be filmed just in the Bureau, so no gore. You doubled checked your list just before 5 am, ready to cross off each actor and actress you were assigned.

“You nervous?” You heard the other stylist, Henry, ask you.

You turned to him, setting down your clipboard. You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms over your sweatshirt clad shirt. You were dressed down because it was so early- a Disney sweatshirt, jeans, slip on Vans, and your glasses instead of your contacts.

“Yeah, a little bit,” you chuckled.

Henry grinned at you, “Don’t be, hun. They’re all really great people.”

“I know, it’s just- I just feel awkward at first, grabbing people’s faces. I know I’m trained for it, but it takes a bit to settle into with new people,” you explained yourself, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans.

Henry opened his mouth, but a series of knocks resounded off of the door. You both turned towards it before Henry said, “It’s time.”

You giggled at his dramatic spectacular, turning to wash your hands as Henry let in the first cast members. Aisha and Joe stepped into the trailer. They greeted you with open arms, wide smiles, goofy jokes and polite goodbyes. You felt giddy, high, almost, when they walked out the door.

“So?” Henry asked as you both began to disinfect your areas.

“I feel so much better,” you grinned, folding a towel in half.

The rest of the cast flew past, already making great companionship with you. Henry, too, continued to get to know you between eyeshadow brushes and hairspray. Finally, the last person knocked on the door. It was nearing 6:30 AM, and you were somewhat tired. You yawned into your palm, sighing gently as Matthew Gray Gubler walked in.

“Hello, lady and germ!” He bounded to his chair, the biggest grin on his expression, a coffee cup in hand, and the other shoved into his character pants.

You jumped somewhat in surprised and he laughed at you. “You’re new.”

“Yeah, hi, we met at the party, Y/N,” you reached out your non-yawn hand and shook the one he pulled from his pocket.

“Ah, yes, I remember well. You were wearing very pretty eyeshadow. Green, right? It reminded me of Elpheba, but it definitely brought out the flecks in your eyes,” he rambled on, unashamedly and confidently.

Additionally, he barely made eye contact, it was more here and there as he busied himself with sitting down and crossing his legs. When he was settled, he met your eyes firmly and looked you up and down.

“Except now your wearing glasses.”

Henry laughed at your deadpan expression. Matthew chuckled lightly, too. Henry spoke, “She’s new, remember? Very talkative, but new. And tired, I guess.”

You nodded slightly, “Yes to both. Overwhelmed a little. I like the effort, but I’m not used to your energy. Give me ten minutes, and I promise I’ll get distracted from doing your makeup because I’ll be exchanging sarcastic remarks.”

“Only my character is a profiler, but I can see it,” Matthew spoke and took a sip of his coffee. He then reached to set it down on the makeup counter before hesitating. “Do you have a coaster?”

“Wait, yes, I do! I made sure to bring some just in case. At my old job, we constantly had people leaving rings of coffee on the counter.” You rushed over to your tote bag, which was set on the couch. You rummaged through it as Henry spoke to Matthew, messing about with his hair.

You found the coasters your sister had hand-painted, which ranged from pumpkin to dinosaur designs. You held them out in front of Matthew, who pulled his head from Henry’s hands to look at them.

“Oh, my Gosh! Pumpkins! Defintiley pumpkins!” He pointed excitedly at the coaster in your right hand.

You giggled and set the coaster onto the counter. Matthew thanked you as you politely took his cup and placed it on top of the design.

“I take it you’re a fan of Halloween?” You spoke as you set the others down beside your makeup supplies.

You sat down in the seat beside Matthews, awaiting him as he got his hair done.

He hummed in response, “It’s my favorite holiday.”

“My birthday is two days prior,” you bragged lightly.

Matthew gasped, turning his head to you. “No way! Oh, we are so totally throwing the best Halloween slash birthday party bash this year, then.”

You flushed at his excitement. “You barely know me.” You laughed somewhat.

Matthew shrugged as Henry frustratedly pulled his head back forward. “Stop moving!”

“We’ll be best friends by then, I guarantee it,” he stated.

“Really? Well, shouldn’t best friends know each other’s favorite colors. Favorite foods, movies...”

“Purple, everything except for plain bread, Hocus Pocus...or-“

“No! No ‘ors.’ Final answers only,” you adjusted your glasses and leaned forward.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye and smiled like he had been played. “Hm. Okay. Hocus Pocus it is then.”

“Of course it’s a Halloween movie,” you giggled.

Matthew grinned at that. “Let’s year yours, then, bestie.”

“Okay...” you sighed, tapping your chin, “pink is my favorite color. I love sushie and every other food, but specifically Chinese food is my favorite. And...I can watch Edward Scissorhands like it’s nobody business.”

“Ugh! A classic! I love that film!” Matthew exclaimed.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! I’ve loved it since i was literally a child. My mom says it’s creepy, but I disagree. It’s beautiful. The themes and symbolism are beautiful. Ugh, plus that ice sculpture scene? Unbeatable. Winona Ryder does such a wonderful job portraying innocence which turns into wicked obsession... and Johnny Depp is just gorgeous...”

You trailed off as you realized you were rambling and Matthew was staring at you with sparkling eyes, a slack jaw, and the lightest imprint of his dimples.

“Sorry,” you scratched your leg, practically falling in on yourself.

Matthew scrunched his nose as Henry sighed. “All done. Your turn, chica.”

You stood from your chair and brushed your hair behind your ears. Matthew took your spot, wriggling in it. “Thanks for making it so warm.”

You smiled as you washed your hands. “You welcome.”

Henry touched your shoulder to gain your attention. “I’m going to go get coffee. Want some?”

“Uh, tea, please. Green, with two sweet n low packets,” you listed off.

He nodded and turned to leave. “Thanks so much!” You shouted as he left.

Matthew watched you through the mirror as you began plucking through your materials. You got to work, feeling all flustered now that you were up in his business.

When your hands moved to his face, he hummed. You furrowed your brows and pulled back somewhat.

“Sorry. Your hands are pleasantly warm. I knew that they would be because you’re just very bubbly, but it was still surprisingly wonderful,” he folded his hands in his lap.

“I like the way you talk,” you blurred out. You pursed your lips and looked away from his eyes, continuing to work on his foundation.

“I like the way you blush at everything,” Matthew echoed.

You blushed again. “Sorry. I’m just-“

“Not very outgoing. I can tell.”

“I thought you weren’t a profiler?”

“I’m not. But I’m super duper outgoing, so I can tell when others aren’t. You’re bubbly, but it takes someone who shares your personality to get it out of you,” he rattled off as if he were an expert.

“You seem to know me very well now,” you laughed gently.

“Guess were best friends already, then.”

You leaned back, propping your hands on your hips. “I think we’re, like, soulmates.”

Matthew quirked a brow, “I guess so? But why do you think?”

“Look at your sweatshirt,” you tugged on your own.

His eyes flickered from yours to his. His eyes widened and his jaw went wide. “Oh, my gosh! No way! We have to document this moment on camera.”

“Really?” You giggled as he stood, towering over you.

“Yes! Henry, come quicker!”

The door had swung open when Matthew stood, and Henry ran up the steps. “What’s wrong?”

“You have to take our picture,” Matthew exclaimed, swinging his arm around your shoulders and holding you flush against his side.

Henry looked you up and down and finally noticed your sweatshirts. “Oh, my God, you’re, like, totally mean to be. Let me get my phone.”

After a photo session consisting of many different poses (silly faces, Matthew squishing your cheeks, tugging you onto his back, nearly falling over as he swung his leg into your arms) you finally got him sat back down in his chair.

“Let’s tackle these eye bags.”

TAG LIST: @mantlereid @boxofteenageideas @dinosaursandsocks @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelville-blog @zhangyixingxing1

[chaos-caffeinated]

Emotions can help you remember Part 2 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

 A/N: Part two is here, excited as always, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you so much for the comments, for the support. I did not know that I had the date set to that day, I thought it was the 19th, but oh well, it’s done. I hope this second part satisifes as the continuing part. 

Not requested

Rated: NSFT/W, 18+

~~~

Yes, I do love using Gifs that send a chill down your back, it may even help trigger some emotions for sexual purposes ding ding :)

Also extra note, Microsoft Bing Translator was used, so 1) Do not come at me for any mistakes 2) Do not start requesting stories in French please, gracias! 

Part 1: https://chaos-caffeinated.tumblr.com/post/623644027625127936/emotions-can-help-you-remember-13-sebastian-x

The moment you heard the bell when someone walked into the shop, you greeted them. While Nina was busy tailoring in the back, you were in charge with inventory; looking up you greeted the client with a smile, “Hello, welcome to- Earl of Phantomhive, it’s so good to see you again.” You perked up, setting down your quill and walking around the counter to greet him, “What brings you here today, Lord Phantomhive? I can call over Madam to prepare your tailoring.”

The earl nodded at you in acknowledgement, even replying, “There’s no need for that, Miss. (L/N). Actually I am here to ask Nina for a favor, but I need both of your presence.”

Confused, you just had to nod, “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

You head towards the back and Ciel called forward Sebastian, “Sebastian, see what you can know about her and you can decide on it.”

He nods, placing his hand over his chest and leaning forward, “Yes, my lord.” He smirked softly and stood up on point when Nina and you walked out. 

“Lord Phantomhive? You wanted to see us?” Nina asked in a confused manner, but remaining straight.

“Yes, I wanted to ask about Miss. (L/N) living at my manor for a few days. I figure you would be busy, so I wanted Miss. (L/N) to take note on what outfits-...”

While you and Nina listened, Sebastian strolled his way to your side, tapped on your shoulder softly. When you turn to glance at him, he had that same smirk he always possess on his pale face with piercing red eyes and nodded his head subtly towards the backroom, enticing you further. However, you were ready to say no to pay attention to the earl when he raised his hand to yours and pulled lightly, his grip on your fingers were light, but they guided you to the backroom you were previously in.

How he managed to get your own body to obey his silent commands were unknown. Since the last meeting, you were curious for more, you were beginning crave more of him. His comments, his words, his teasing yet professional manners were all getting to you. But you needn't him enough to go after him.

You asked in a whisper, “Sebastian, what is this about?” You asked confused, “Why does Lord Phantomhive want me to spend a few days in his manor?”

Instead of answering your questions, he added a few of his instead, “I was actually just going to ask you about this. Tell me, Miss. (L/N), how did you come about to work for Miss. Hopkins?"

Hesitant about revealing some information, you lightly shrugged, "My father works as a merchant, and I started working with him since I was 8. When I began to work, the sales increased dramatically until Madam stepped foot in the store when I was 17. She said because of my 'beauty' that she would help me obtain enough money to help my parents live a peaceful life without having to struggle. I'll occasionally have some modeling sessions with her clothing, and well...that's about it."

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest, raising the back of his clothed forefinger to the bottom of his lip as he stood there in thought, "So I assume you asked about her teaching tailoring to do more than modeling?"

You nodded with a smile, "Yes, she has such a charisma and how joyful she is to create clothes for people is just inspiring. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to do it."

Your smile shifted into a softer one, gazing back into a memory, "It gives me the power to gift others the opportunity to feel just as good as the elite."

The corner of his lip curved slightly as he offered a deal, assuming that you would take up on it, "Then for a few days, would you grant us the wish of you appearing as the guest of honor in the incoming ball?"

"A guest of honor in a ball? That means a lot Sebastian and I thank you, but...why?"

"My young master is going to host a party in celebration of the successful partnership with the Northern countries. It's because of you that it managed to be so." He charmed his close-eyed smile, "It would be an honor to have your presence. It would definitely be if I got to see you once more." His tone slightly shifted into his sultry one. Even his eyes radiated something, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

You felt a small chill down your spine, barely noticeable in his eyes, but you kept pressing, "But me? I didn't do anything but provide a suit for the lord. It's a material for many, so surely it can't be because of that."

He was taken aback from the response, he thought you would be greedy like everybody else, but you had common sense in you. Questioning, acquiring the knowledge needed. It surprised him to see that in you.

"Being the guest of honor grants you the opportunity to meet with many patrons, with future clients for Miss. Hopkins and yourself. You said you wanted to help your parents, your success here in meeting with the guests can aid in your dream at a faster pace."

When he saw your eyes widen slightly in realization, he felt the ease of getting to you was accomplished. He was ordered to get you on board with the invitation, tell his master about your history which cleared out. Because you were a noble woman, you wouldn't back out from an opportunity to help the ones you treasured. With that he had you in his grip, a step closer to not only his master's wish to use her in his plan to trap a murderer amongst the noblemen the Queen ordered to get rid of, but also his desire. He had grown to lust, to search for a simple toy whilst in contract, yet here he was obtaining the information for his selfish wants as well.

"...So Lord Phantomhive is asking Madam for permission so that I stay with you until the ball?..." Your voice trembled with nervousness as you were hit with a dilemma. You wanted to quit the modeling, having the eyes of other people made you feel uncomfortable. You tried so hard that you even asked Madam about teaching you how to tailor, but the man in front of you- the mysterious man- was giving you an opportunity to reach higher by just attending a formal event.

"Yes, at the moment they are. In the meantime, we can discuss about further responsibilities to avoid any problems."

"Well I'm sure Lord Phantomhive can help me on that then-" You were about to walk out when you see his arm place outward in front of you, his hand placed on the wall.

You stopped immediately, looking at his arm before you saw him at your peripheral.

Sebastian leaned his face forward, quiet as he stared at your reaction with his eyes half-lid and his lips pulled into a smug smirk.

“Miss. (L/N), you will be a great addition in our current situation. Having you on board can prove a good time for you as well. My master may be distracted with business partners, but his servants will be in alert if there is any discomfort. If you ever need me -in any case- I will be there in a second.” The hand beside your head guided towards your chin, softly grabbing with his forefinger resting underneath it, and his thumb gently pressing against your lips, "Like I mentioned before, it would be a great honor for me if you attended..." and he leaned closer and closer to your lips.

Your eyes widen as your cheeks darken with a pink/red hue, and you moved your head aside from his hand and face getting closer. You wondered what he was doing, you wondered if you genuinely had that affect on him, but you had to stay alert.

Upon this, Sebastian was surprised as well, smirking softly and closing his eyes before backing away completely. She was smart, and she was indeed unlike other girls who would take up on the opportunity.

“A-A-and this is because... because of my ‘beauty’?... That’s the qualification?” You closed your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose before completely turning to the man ahead of you. If it weren’t for this, you would be blushing as you see him nearly hovering over you. His eyes seemed much darker, his bangs nearly coverng them, “It would be a brilliant way to cast your beauty, and if the compensation is not enough -or interest- we can arrange that in a meeting. I’m sure anything you ask for can be arranged, I assure you as such. It can be for Miss. Hopkins as well.” He smirked softly. 

You thought for a moment, sighing softly in reluctance, “You’re very convincing, but is my presence alone the only thing needed for this event?”

Sebastian stood back, his arms crossed in a soft manner while he brought one hand up to his chin, rubbing softly, “There is one thing. We may need you to speak in fluent French, many guests there prefer to speak French for an unknown reason.” 

“Wait- I-I don’t know French.” you added to which Sebastian stare at you with a semi-surprised expression, “You don’t? Well I assumed that because you worked under Miss Hopkins she would have taught you-”

You shook your head in response, “She always speaks English to me unless they are simple phrases like, ‘Bonjour, Comment-’ ... uhm...vas-tchu?” You were already messing up your pronounciation to which the butler simply stared at you with the best attempt of sympathizing. 

Letting out a breath, he shook his head, “Well, it can’t be helped.” Then he smiled small, “I can provide the help needed to ensure that you do speak fluent French. You can even surprise Miss. Hopkins and avoid any language barriers within.” He offered a warm smile which you reciprocated, “Alright, wait you are going to be teaching me?” you askeed confused.

“Yes, I will.” He nodded, his smile shifting into a prideful one, almost like he was giddy to show off his ability to speak French.

“But you don’t sound like Madam at all.” You bluntly stated as you acknowledged the lack of accent.

What came out of his mouth surprised you nonetheless: “Un humain en particulier que vous devez avoir remarqué de tels détails, mais attendu de la benficiaire de Nina. Ce sera amusant à coup sûr, car je vais m’assurer de vous donner autant que l’attention, mon petit chaton.”

The way he suddenly showed you up with this second language made you not only blush, but sense a chill. His voice enunciating each syllable with ease like it was his native language made your heart flutter. You almost prefer him talking that way from now on, but you were not only blinded, but deaf of his subtle approaches. 

“...So you do speak french.” You confirmed, speechless from the action.

Smiling with his eyes closed, a confident, yet playful smile, he responded, “Why yes, a Phantomhive butler who can’t do this much isn’t worth his salt, I would have high hopes for your success in learning a new, wonderful language, but I know all my students are succesful when it comes to speaking French.”

When he said that, you couldn’t help but ask, “You taught Lord Phantomhive French? A butler?” You asked curiously as you tilted your head to the side a bit.

Smirking smugly, he replied, “I’m not just a mere butler, my lady. I’m simply one hell of a butler.”

A series of chills traveled down your spine as his eyes darken and his smirk remained, catching a glimpse of his whites, a sharp canine tooth showing itself. With his response, you felt pulled towards him, now a sense of being with him getting stronger. INstead of replying, you simply turned to walk to the main room witha  soft blush across your cheeks as Nina was going to tell you with excitement to participate in the ball. Sebastian, on the other hand, had a soft smile on his face, his features no longer had his previous intent. He had gone back to his façade butler character as he hid the fact that he was soon going to take fully advntage of you when you two enter the  manor. 

~~

Currently sitting in front of the earl in the carriage, you simply remained staring at his boots out of respect.

“As much as I respect your manners, Miss. (L/N), I’m sure your neck is sore, please just look up.” He commented, his arms were crossed as he crossed one leg over the other. 

Just like he guessed, your neck was slightly strained from keeping it at a certain angle for a long time, “I’m sorry my lord, I just don’t want to offend you any way.” You responded with honesty as he focus went from the outside fields to your face, “I appreciate that, but you don’t have to worry about that. You are a guest of honor, please do relax.” He smirked lightly, his left blue eye glinting softly, “I’m sure Sebastian explained why we needed you?”

You nodded, “Yes, my lord. A guest honor to your incoming ball?”

He nods in response, “Yes, but in addition you will be further aiding in providing extra clients for Miss. Hopkins which can help your experience with tailoring as well.”

“Yes, but if I may ask, my lord...why go that far for me to be a guest honor when I'm simply a tailor?...”

“Good question, Sebastian commented that since very little people are aware of you, it would be a great way to expand the opportunities from a wider stance. You have skills, you are smart, you need a lot more practice and how when clients occur weekly or monthly. And please, start calling me Ciel, it would be more appropiate."

“Ciel...” You pronounced it, testing it, “It’s a beautiful name.” You complimented, watching as he hesitated a smile, “Thank you.”

“However, if I have to call you Ciel, you can just call me (Y/N).” you smiled warmly.

Now he smiled small, his weight shifting underneath, “(Y/N), it’s a beautiful name.” 

Ciel smiled softly before traveling over at the window to watch the scenary while recalling some events.

~

Sebastian knocked on the door only for Ciel to respond, "Come in."

Opening the door, Sebastian walked in and closed the door. He strolled over in front of the mahogany desk and reached out his arm, "A letter from the Queen, my lord." He gazed downwards.

Ciel was writing on a paper when he sat up, placed down the quill and took the letter. Opening it and silently reading it indifferently by himself, he hummed afterwards, "Seems we have a rotten apple in our bunch." He commented and set down the letter to focus on his dessert Sebastian brought earlier.

"Indeed, if it remains there, the others will rotten as well." Sebastian smirked, "What's your plan, my lord?"

"The murderer seems to appear in the parties, so he is invited." He sighed, "Honestly, if I have to create a party here just to catch it then it would be annoying since I have so much work to do." He chewed on his dessert when Sebastian spoke up.

"It's unfortunate we can't perform the ‘Robin’ again." He smiled smugly as Ciel choked on the last piece, blushing hard as he looked at him with an angry expression, "Shut up! I forbid you to ever speak of that event! That was utterly embarrassing, you know it."

Sebastian raised his hand to cover his mouth, "Really, I thought you were a splendid lady." He teased with a taunting tone as he chuckled into it.

Ciel felt a chill down his back as he was enraged with the teasing demon, "I said shut up!" He huffed into his chair, "Anyways..." He raised a fist to cough lightly in an attempt to brush it off, "We may have to use a decoy to this party, someone rarely anybody knows of."

Sebastian nods subtly, "Yes, I agree. What about Miss. (L/N)? I do believe she would fit the qualifications to be a decoy in the trap."

Ciel picked up the letter and read it again, "She does seem to fit the profile the murderer selects his victims from." He sighs, "Very well-..." He view the letter once more before becoming bewildered.

"Something the matter, my lord?"

"...Fluency in French. For some reason the murderer likes girls who speak french." Ciel commented in an irritant tone, "Does Miss. (L/N) even speak french?"

Sebastian pondered on it, rubbing his chin softly with his finger, "I'm uncertain about that. Judging by her accent, no, but you don't have an accent either despite being bilingual as well. How about we trick her into being a guest of honor, but not disclosing that with that with the guests?"

He sighed as he placed down the letter, "Fine by me, just don’t mention anything to her about the case.” He raised the cup up to his lips and sipped on the tea. 

Sebastian’s cornered lips perked up as he placed his hand over his chest and leaned forward, “Yes, my lord.”

Ciel glanced at the demon ahead of him and pondered what true intentions he had with the lady at the tailor shop. Of all the other women laying around, the name that came out of his mouth belonged to you, it was a recent visit too. Nonetheless, he just wanted the case solved.  

~

When the carriage stopped in front of the mansion, Sebastian opened the door with his head bowed slightly, “We’ve arrived, my lord.”

After Ciel walked out, you followed, admiring the manison. 

You were hopeful that you were going to have fun being with these two without realizing you were going to risk you own life as well. 

[mrswalkers-blog]

Falling in love with you

Chapter 14 - The Storm

Book: The Royal Romance AU ( Drake x MC & Liam x Olivia)

What it’s about: This is an AU that happens two years after Riley weds  Drake. Drake has lost his memory of last 2 years due to an accident. He  doesn’t remember meeting Riley who is pregnant with their first child.  Unaware of this fact and not able to cope with the strange new life he  has woken up to , he flees Cordonia.

Liam marries Olivia for  purely political purposes. Olivia on the other hand marries him because  she is madly in love with him. But after two years on marriage and  unable to produce an heir and unable to get Liam to love her, she asks  for a divorce.

A/N: I recent watched two amazing web-series that left me hanging for next season. “People got to start finishing their story” I thought. And I should be the one to start. I have left you waiting and I am sorry for that. Here is the latest Chapter. Story is no where near end.

Summary of last Chapter : One and a Half Years Back : Regina explains Liam that not producing an heir in due time can cause chaos in Monarchy. She also hints that Olivia must consult a doctor. Olivia overhears this conversation and decides to consult a doctor. The doctor informs her that her ovary was damaged - during the fight with Anton. She was also suffering from a condition that was making it nearly impossible for her to conceive.

Now: Liam meets Drake at a ranch in USA. They talk and Liam clears that whatever happened was in past. and Riley was just a friend to him now. Liam also confirms that Riley was pregnant with Drake’s child. Drake decides to return with Liam.

Warnings: 13 + PLEASE NOTE: Past chapters links are available in my bio.Please Re-blog, Comment or at least hit like if you like this series.

One Year Back: Olivia stood in the balcony facing the private royal garden lush with thousands of flowers in all possible colors. Chirping of birds had filled the morning sky. A soft breeze were playing gently with her red locks. 

It was a beautiful and peaceful morning, but her thoughts could not have been further away from it. Her thoughts were like a tornado causing complete havoc inside her. Standing in silence, with a stoic face, alone in the beautiful balcony of the grand palace, was the queen of Cordonia. The women envied by every other woman in Cordonia herself was feeling frustrated, tormented, empty, unworthy. Her entire life was flashing in front of her eyes - her parents who neglected her when she was a child, who were killed, who turned out to be traitors. She was left alone, rejected and frowned upon by everyone except Liam. She was just a child when she was made duchess of Lythikos. But she was a fighter. She had proven herself to be worthy of the title. It was not her fault that her parents were traitor. But everyone treated her differently. A child inherits not only the legacy of their parents but also their reputation - good or bad. She had learned at a very young age that one can gain respect in only two ways - love or fear. If they cannot love her, they need to fear her.

And she didn't care if no one loved her. She only needed love from one man, her husband - the King - Liam Rhys. He cared for her, he trusted her, liked her. But didn't love her.

A sad smile spread on her lips as she thought about the love of her life. It had been a year of their married life. And it seemed that the initial charm of their marriage was already dying down. The sex was becoming less frequent, and Liam seemed constantly busy in his work. She knew Liam had made it very clear that their marriage was a political one. Their first anniversary was a political affair too. They had a grand ball organized on their first marriage anniversary. Royal families of all neighboring countries had attended. The legendary party had been in news for days. But for Liam it was only a reason to meet the dignitaries of neighboring countries. A chance to make allies and strengthen the existing ties. 

Her hands tightened on the railing. Was it too much to expect a small gift from him on the anniversary? Or just a loving kiss or a hug? maybe a few words saying what she meant to him?

She had hoped he would eventually fall in love with her. She was doing everything she could - taking care of his every need like a good lover, guiding and helping him in all state matters like a good queen, pleasing him in bed.... she was draining herself out - but all her efforts were going to a barren land. Not yielding any fruit. same way as her barren womb.

Would producing an heir change his feelings towards her? Or she would again be left aching for him? And would she even be able to produce an heir? Questions violently gyrated inside her like a tornado. It had been six months since the doctors appointment and even after taking the medicines regularly, there was no result. Maybe she was barren, empty, unworthy. She looked down the balcony. Will this agony end if she just take a leap? Her eyes were fixed at the land 20 feet below her.

“Liv” - Liam called out to her. Olivia felt as if she woke up from a trance. She turned and saw Liam standing at the door. She ran to him and wrapped him in a tight hug, burring her head in his neck.

Liam gently wrapped her in a hug,”Are you okay?” he asked. She just nodded without lifting her head. “You seemed lost there” he asked again.

She didn’t reply. But gently pulled away. She started to walk away from him, but Liam grabbed her by her wrist. “Something is bothering you, Liv” he asked, “dont want to share it with me?”  

“There is nothing, really.” Olivia said looking in his eyes. Her gaze as fierce as ever. But Liam could see the pain covered behind the strong exterior. He however decided it is best to let go of topic. 

“Liv, I was thinking that we should visit Lythikos for this weekend.” He was glad that he came up with the idea, because he saw a spark in her eyes as soon as she heard Lythikos. Her entire body relaxed and a smile spread on her face.

“Lythikos?” she asked.

“Yes, you haven't been to Lythikos since our wedding, and we can spend some time together. “ he suggested.

The two thing she loved - Lythikos and Liam - together for a weekend, what more could she ask for. “That’s brilliant idea” the scarlet duchess beamed - for a fraction of a second Liam saw the innocence of the young Olivia on the duchesses’ face.

“ I am going to make the arrangements” she kissed Liam on his cheek and rushed out, Liam chuckled looking at her. He was really glad he could make her forget about whatever was bothering her, even if for just some time.

---

Now

“They will be here any minute” Hana told Riley.

“He should have been here an hour ago.” Riley said firmly. “Press is waiting. We need to make a statement.” she walked out of the parlor of the hotel where the press conference was organized. Hana had already received a call from Liam informing that they have landed in Valtoria about two hours ago. He should have reached the press conference an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. Riley had continued with her schedule as if not caring about his arrival. But Hana knew that every news of Drake had effected her deeply. The last month had not been easy for Riley and Hana was not sure if Drake’s presence would mean for Riley.    

Hana looked at her pleadingly. “Please wait for five minutes?”

“Even if he reaches here in five minutes, do you think he will be able to solve all problems?” Riley asked, “He is not Drake anymore, accept that.” She said and strode towards the press conference room.

She opened the room and took her place on the dais on the stage. She felt her heart beating fast in her chest. You can do it - She reassured herself. It was not new for her to face press for some controversy. But this was the first time Drake was not by her side. A simple lip curl on Drake’s face when she would look at him for support used to increase her confidence ten fold.  

As she had sensed, the press had noted Duke’s absence. A murmur was going around the room that was hard to miss. Cameras started flashing. Riley raised a hand to silence the reporters. “Thank you for coming” She smiled at them confidently.

“I am here to let the land owners know that we have heard their concerns ” She knew she needs to be on point, and not let media control the narrative.” I want them to know that we are with them. We value them. We will not do any injustice with them. We have made sure that all land owners  gets same area of land that they are donating or ...”

“Would you say they are donating? land owners feel like you are snatching the lands from them” a reporter interrupted her.

Riley stammered for a moment, but took a deep breath and continued,”The Dam is being built for the betterment of entire duchy. In fact, it will also benefit neighboring duchy. We need some land to create reservoir. We have planned the location so that it benefits the most...”

“But it was Sir Drake’s plan. Where is he? Shouldn’t he be answering us?” Another reporter interrupted her. This was the first time reporters were interrupting her. She hadn't expected such hostile behavior.

Riley felt her throat choke up. She took a sip from the water from the glass placed in front of her, and said,” He is away for an important work...”

“Is it true that he is away since a month?”  another reporter asked. “Are you pregnant?” a voice asked from another corner. “Are you two separated?” another question was fired at her from somewhere else.

Soon all the reporters started firing questions from all directions to her. She found her voice choked up in her throat. She raised her hand to ask them to stop , but the situation was already out of hand.  Hana ran to front and took a mic to ask the reporters to calm down. Their questions had now been replaced by a strange murmur discussing the rumors they had heard.A wave of panic rushed over Riley. The media hadn't been her friend last month and she had realized it long before today. But today the reality was staring her in her face. And she was proving to be weak.  Suddenly the room fell silent. Riley looked up to see all eyes fixed to the door behind her.

She turned to see Drake entering the room. He had dressed up in a suit. His long hair gelled and combed neatly. He walked confidently to the stage  Her heart started beating hard in her chest. She felt an urge to run to him and wrap him in a hug, to kiss him, feel his warmth. But she sat froze looking at him, gripping the chair to prevent herself from acting on the urge. Their eyes met for a brief moment. As soon as their eyes meet, Drake looked down, hesitant to meet her gaze. Within a fraction of second, he caught himself and fixed his eyes on the swarm of reporters and photographers who all had stood up by now.

Cameras were flashing all around. Capturing each movement of Drake. He was prepared for this. He strode to the desk with confidence. He adjusted his suit before taking a seat next to Riley. He gestured to the reporters to settle down.

“I understand that there are many questions that you need answers for.” He began calmly. He was trying his best to stay stoic and confident, but Riley saw his feet shaking below the table. She knew how hard this could be for him. Instinctively she placed a hand on his knee. Drake turned to look at her. This small gesture was enough for him to boost his confidence. He smiled thankfully at her. She gave a reassuring smile in return before gently moving her hand back.

“However, today we dont want to answer any questions. There are few things that needs to be said.” Drake returned his focus back to the crowd in front of them. He made sure his voice is firm and calm. Liam had made him practice this a hundred times in the flight back. “First, Riley will complete what she has to say” He looked at his beautiful wife sitting next to him. Riley nodded to him and started addressing the crowd before her. She explained the reporters how they are going to address the issues before them. No one interrupted her now. They seemed least interested in the land owners protest. They were here to know about Drake. And now when he was here, they didn't had many questions left.

Riley completed her speech with confidence. Drake looked at her through the entire speech mesmerized by her. They way she spoke with confidence and compassion, addressing all concerns of land owners one by one, made Drake look at her with new found respect. 

“I assure you that we are going to discuss the concerns with each individual landowner to make sure that none of them face any kind of injustice. “ She  said concluding her speech.”We have always stood by our people and will continue to do so. Thank you. I believe that you will continue to put your trust in us.” Riley had decided that as soon as she delivered the speech, she would leave. As she didn't want to answer any further questions. Her eyes met with Drake’s before she stood up to leave. But Drake immediately stood up to stop her, wrapping an arm around her waist.”Just a min,” he smiled looking at the reporters. “We have an important announcement to make”. 

This sudden gesture of Drake again caused a turmoil inside of Riley.

“We are so happy to announce this....” Drake smiled proudly,” we are expecting a baby.” He gently placed his hand on her belly. Riley felt her body tearing apart. Half of her body wanted to run away from him, but half of her wanted him to envelop in his arms. She realized her shocked face is being photographed from all angles. She forced a smile and posed for the cameras. She knew this was going on the covers of all news papers and magazines tomorrow and in an hour on all social media. By now, she had mastered the art of disguising all her emotions in front of media. 

“Thank you everyone” Drake waved to everyone. And gently escorted Riley away. Riley walked beside him wordlessly to the car. As soon as they sat in car, Riley shifted to side , keeping a distance between her and Drake. Drake too couldn't muster the courage to talk to her in front of the driver or the security.

---

After a very silent drive, Drake and Riley reached their estate with Hana. As soon as the car stopped, Riley stepped out of the car and stormed inside. Drake and Hana ran after her.

“Riley, please wait” Hana called out to Riley. But she didn't stop.

“Riley, please listen to me.” Drake called out to her. Riley stopped and turned to look at him. Tears running down her face.

“Don’t you think it is a little too late to talk?” she said clenching her teeth.

“Riley , please calm down” Hana ran to her to place a hand on her shoulder.

“I understand your anger. I am sorry Riley. I really..” Drake took a tentative step towards her.

“Oh! so now you are sorry?” Riley’s could not control her anger any longer,”And what? You expect me to forgive you?.”  She took two steps towards Drake as if challenging him.

“Drake, please. Lets talk later.” Hana pleaded. Drake read the fear in Hana’s eyes.

“Yes, I guess we should talk later.” he said.

“No,” Riley said, her body shaking in anger,”You said you wanted to talk. so talk. I am listening.” Tears kept streaming down her red eyes, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. “Tell me why did you left? Without a word.”

“Riley, I am really sorry, please calm down.” he tentatively took steps towards her. Riley raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t come near me.”  Riley took a step away from him stumbling a little. “How dare you come back as if nothing happened? Announce my pregnancy? Without even consenting with me...”

Riley paused, as if to compose herself.

“Riley....” Drake started to say something, but realized that Riley was loosing her balance. “Riley!” he shouted before rushing to catch her just in time before she fell. 

A panic washed over as he saw her lying unconscious in his arms. “Riley!”,

Hana rushed to kneel down beside Drake. “Hana, bring some water.” Hana nodded and rushed to get some water.

“Riley”, Drake patted her cheek repeatedly to wake her up. “Please wake up!” he pleaded.

---

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Pixelberry.

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[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great Chapter 20

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:~2,000

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve @maouzon

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21

Eva did her very best not to fidget. She’d been in this building before, though not on this particular floor. The unfamiliar location coupled with having never laying eyes on the person she was meeting with made her anxious. And, when she was anxious, she felt herself begin to fidget. She was sitting in the lobby, one high heeled foot bouncing over her crossed knee. The décor was taupe, which she heard could be very soothing. It did not soothe Eva.

A hand landed on her knee, warm and heavy, stopping her movement.  She looked over at Horacio, breathing deeply. His scent—that was what would soothe her.  She wondered if it would be acceptable to lean over in her chair and bury her nose in his neck. He’d probably take it in stride, but she feared the displeased looks from the others in the lobby. She’d had enough judgmental stares to last her a lifetime.  There was no need to add to them.

Eventually, they were called back and led to a sterile office not far down the hall.  The assistant ushered them to their seats and asked if they needed anything, an offer that was turned down.  A few moments later, a man walked in hurriedly.  He was dressed in a gray suit that was a little too big for him, a striped tie flapping with each step.  Middle aged, hair silver enough to tell her that he’d started graying early, though he had a good hairline that was only just now beginning to recede. His belt didn’t match his shoes.

“I apologize for the delay, I was caught in a meeting that went a little long,” he said in that warm Southern drawl that Eva had completely forgotten existed. As he sat and picked up a pen, he continued, “I’m agent Richardson.”

Eva introduced herself and Horacio, smiling as congenially as she could. A firm grasp of her body kept her from bouncing her leg, but she did stutter a little. It had been a long time since she’d felt so utterly exposed.

“Agent Peña said that you’ve got evidence that could helpful in my investigation?”

Eva gave a stilted nod, scratching at the skin above her brow, “I do.”

Hands turning up in question, he prompted, “And?”

She hesitated. Everything that had been ingrained in her from an early age rebelled against talking with a federal agent, no matter how long she’d been working with them.

He noted her reluctance, “You’ve signed the immunity agreement. Anything you say here can’t be held against you, as long as you cooperate.”

Eva looked away, swallowing back the fear of going back to prison. She’d talked with Horacio about it on the flight over. He’d listened intently to her distrust of the government, had held her hand when she started to cry. And then, when her tears were dry, he assured her that, if push came to shove, he’d smuggle her out of the country. The contingency plan was already mostly formed. They’d packed lightly, and he had a set of forged passports sewn into his carry on.

“Ardent Pharmaceuticals,” she began. “I created their tax system, I initiated all their LLC licenses as of fifteen years ago. They have holdings in at least three off shore accounts, I can provide you with those account numbers and with the banks they’re associated with.”

Agent Richardson’s face was very still, Eva wasn’t sure that he was even breathing. After a moment, he said, “You’re confident you can get me that information.”

Eva licked her lips, pausing only a moment, “Yes. I can do that.”

He blinked, rolling the pen between his fingers, “Alright.  Let’s get started.”

When they were walking out of the building, Eva’s heels clicking on the pavement, Horacio took her hand. Their hotel was maybe a few blocks away and the weather was pleasant for the time of year. A cool breeze rustled her hair, the smell of street food coming along with it. This was nice. Really nice.

She felt a kind of heavy relief flow out of her body, the muscles of her neck and shoulders loosening with every step. It might come back and bite her in the ass, but she’d done the right thing.  She knew it, deep down.

Horacio transferred her hand to the other side, his now free arm wrapping around her middle.  Their stride slowed a little. Eva didn’t mind at all.

“I love this skirt, you know?” he murmured, the pads of his fingers running along the waistband.

She remembered him telling her how much he loved this skirt the first night they’d slept together. Dreams, he’d said.  Eva smiled, leaning into him.

“I do know,” she replied easily, not even bothering to hide the affection in her gaze.

He kissed her temple, leading her through the doors of the hotel. The air conditioning blew at her, a sharp contrast to the soft wind outside. She shivered despite Horacio’s warmth around her. He noticed, the arm at her waist rising up to encircle her shoulders. She touched his fingers briefly while they waited for the elevator.

“I’m proud of you.”

She looked up at him, “Why?”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t easy for you to go through all of that. We were in there for three hours, Eva. You dredged up every detail of your work to hide your in laws’ criminal activity like it was… nothing.”

Lips parting, she felt her brows come together, “Because it was nothing.”

The doors to the elevator opened and he ushered her inside. Tapping the button to their floor, he shot her a look that said he expected a further explanation. Eva chuckled, leaning back against the railing.

“This year has been...fantastic,” she started, eyes on the dusty ceiling of the carriage. “I never could have thought that I’d end up here, with you.”

A ding sounded and Eva walked ahead of Horacio, pulling him willingly along by the hand, “All those things I talked about, I’ve spent years working through them. I still think about it, yeah, and I still have to work on it. But, what that was in there? That was simple math. I need them to be so tied up legally that they don’t have the capital to pay another hitman. And, I needed to get a little vengeance—more vengeance—than I already had.”

Horacio keyed into their room, tossing the key onto the table near the door.  Eva followed him, sitting on the bed to remove her shoes. Though they were comfortable, a few blocks’ walk had earned her some relief. She rubbed at the arch of her foot with her thumb.

Sitting next to her, he took her hand again, gazing carefully at her expression, “Its not your job to take down their entire enterprise.”

The steadiness of his gaze, the sincerity of his expression, was amusing. He had already made her out to be a little bit of a martyr, which was pretty much the opposite of what was happening.

Eva rolled her eyes, “I have no aspirations of that. I just want to make a little trouble.”

More than a little trouble.  She wanted to breakdown their ability to make moves the way they had been doing for so long.  She wanted them utterly impotent for the foreseeable future.

His smile reached his eyes, the corners crinkling, “I think you’ve achieved that.”

Not yet, she hadn’t.  There was still the matter of the fallout and Eva did not trust in the effectiveness of the American government. She would have to watch from the sidelines as they worked—or, didn’t work. Either way. Eva very much wanted it to work.

“I’ll admit that it would be nice to see Myra in one of those prison jumpsuits.”

Thumb rubbing at her palm, Horacio seemed to be trying to picture it, “When it happens, I’ll see if I can get someone to take a picture, for posterity’s sake.”

He sat another moment longer, and Eva could tell that he had something to say and was trying to find the words.  She lifted a brow, in silent invitation.

Pulling his lips between his teeth, he was quiet another moment before his hand tightened on hers, “I put in my resignation.”

Shocked, Eva could only say, “When?”

“Before we left.”

“Why?”

He blinked, head cocking to the side, “Because you were right. Because I’ll be dead very soon if I keep on doing this.”

It took about thirty seconds for Eva to get her mind about what he’d just said. In those thirty seconds, she made a few decisions, and maybe fell in love just a little bit more. They would have to take a detour before they got to the airport.

“What are you going to do next?”

His work was his entire life, it consumed almost every waking minute.  The man probably made plans to arrest dealers in his sleep.

He shrugged, “I’ve got some loose ends I need to tie up, and then I thought we could make the decision together.”

Her jaw dropped a bit.  He wanted to make plans. Together. He wanted to make plans—plans for the future—with her. Plans they could enact. Plans that didn’t involve looking over their shoulder for the rest of their lives.  

Eva leaned over and kissed him, sniffing back the tears that threatened.  Really, she hadn’t cried this much since the first year of her marriage. Happy tears, though, were always welcome.

In the cab the next day, Eva prompted the driver to pull off the highway a few exits early. When Horacio asked what they were doing, she simply smiled and patted his arm. The neighborhood she directed the driver to was...an acquired taste. The building that they stopped in front of was decrepit, nearly falling apart on its foundation. The place had once been the office of the mausoleum next door, but had fallen into disrepair when another office had been built on the other side. She was surprised the roof hadn’t completely caved in.

“Is this...safe?” he asked, eyes looking over the building skeptically.

Eva smiled again, unbearably amused at his choice of words, “Safe is one way to put it.”

She walked ahead of him, moving through the first floor to the back room. It was small, and part of the floorboards were missing.  She had to hop from joist to joist to get to the cold air return vent. The years had taken a toll on the bones of the place, leaving the hinges off center. It took several grunting yanks to get the cover free so that she could reach into the vent and pull the bag free.  

Covered in dust, but still whole, the black fabric was thin in some places from use.  She’d had the thing since middle school, her name embroidered on one side. Evangeline, written in white thread that had turned yellow over the years. With shaking fingers, she traced the letters. It was the only thing she had from before she was married, everything else given up somewhere along the way. This, she was definitely holding onto.

“What is it?” Horacio asked from the door, his eyes scanning the room, mouth thin.

Eva looked up at him, “My retirement plan.”

Hopping across the joists towards him, she made her way to one of the few stable points in the front room, dropping the bag carefully. On one knee, she opened the zipper, spreading the fabric wide. Inside was every dollar she could skim from the till, about a hundred thousand in total.

Horacio was standing next to her, looking down at the stacks with pride in his eyes, “I knew you were smart.”

Glancing at him from behind her lashes, Eva grinned, “I’m practical.”

He chuckled, “Same thing.”

Zipping the bag back up, Eva swung it over her shoulder, “Needless to say, this will be my carry on.”

He quirked a brow at her, amused, “Is that all you have hidden?”

“Here, at least.”

There was another couple of bags hidden here and there, none with nearly this much in them.  She would have to make plans to touch base in those locations before they finalized their...Eva paused a moment. They had plans, or they would.

She smiled, “This is enough for now, I think.”

He held out his hand to her, “Then, we should go.  The meter’s running.”

[boyslaughplus]

2nd Brassica Bonus Short Story

We spontaneously wanted to do something nice for April Fools this year but ended up posting this story days later on our Blog. Now we resurrect our Tumblr by posting this here as well. Have fun reading this cute story from when Hans hasn’t turned into a flirt yet, and was still a teen! (oﾐﾟﾛﾟﾐ)o

On the first day of the fourth month, almost a full decade ago, the rulers of all kingdoms allied with Auxtome convened to discuss and negotiate matters that were of little interest to a certain adolescent princess named Avril. Matters like infrastructure, trade agreements, and other things that made her yawn just at the thought.

Within Poisson, her country, the princess was quite famous for being energetic and mischievous, rather fitting with the deep red color of her hair. But no one minded because she was also aware of her duties and never failed to fulfill them. Still, full days of economic discussions were just about last on the list of things Avril wanted to spend her time with.

Thankfully, her parents were the ones attending the conference. She only accompanied them to make her debut among all the young royals that would be at the palace. And while that too had its downsides as far as she was concerned, the prospect of spending two weeks in Auxtome and meeting new, possibly interesting people still left her excited.

Their carriage was passing through Auxtome’s capital, its streets adorned with flowers and decorated festively to welcome the esteemed guests from all around the continent. Even as her mother spoke to her, Avril could hardly tear her eyes from the window.

“The conference begins right after we arrive, but the crown prince of this land, Prince Hans, has volunteered to give all young royals a tour of the palace. He is about your age. I trust you will dress… appropriately for the occasion?”

Avril had no need to look at her mother to recognize the look she was giving her, and the meaning it was meant to convey.

“Of course mother, I have brought garments suitable for every occasion,” she replied.

“Good,” her mother acknowledged, pleased, and turned back to her husband now that they were nearing the palace grounds.

Avril smiled to herself. An entire day without her parents or retainers promised to be delightful. And she had a plan to make the most of all the possibilities that were already racing through her mind.

Atop the foyer stairs of his family’s palace, Prince Hans was waiting for his guests long before the first one arrived; his posture sublime and his smile well practiced. At only 13 summers he was quite young to be given such an important duty, but he had long established himself as reliable and well-versed in social affairs. Next to him stood his half-brother, Lorens, a few years younger and much more prone to show it. Hans didn’t dislike him per se, but it was always exhausting to have him near during official business. Or when he wanted some quiet. To his relief, he would only stay through the greeting.

All around the room were attendants to aid the guests and lead them to their quarters before escorting the princes and princesses back once the tour was set to begin.

“Could you quit your fidgeting?” Hans asked his half-brother as he glanced to the side. “You’re representing our family today, just what would our guests think of us if they saw you right now?”

Lorens sighed deeply and tried his best to copy Hans’ demeanor.

“But no one’s here yet. It’s tiring to stand still for so long.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Hans replied sternly. “You’ll learn to endure before long.”

Before long unfortunately only described how long it took for Lorens to forget his discipline again. But Hans was used to this.

As the first guests arrived, Hans stepped down the stairs for the greeting and raised his charm to the max. Lorens remained in his shadow, politely participating in the greeting but drawing little attention. Although he didn’t show it, Hans felt quite relieved.

The guests were so plentiful that even the astute crown prince had trouble remembering all their faces and names immediately, but he knew there would be a second greeting once all the young royals assembled for the palace tour, and the coming days left enough time to memorize all the names of their parents.

And thus, the time for the tour quickly arrived!

About a dozen young royals now gathered in the foyer, from nearly just as many kingdoms; one of them from the kingdom of Radix and another, the youngest prince hailing from Theotherkingdom. Although Hans couldn’t seem to remember his name, or face, no matter how hard he tried.

The last royal to introduce themselves was one with hair as deeply red as cherries, who was dressed in clothes so dashing that even Hans felt a hint of jealousy.

“I am Avril of Poisson. Pleased to make your acquaintance, everyone.”

“Likewise, Prince Avril. Thank you for joining us today,” Hans smoothly replied and proceeded to announce the schedule for the day.

Unbeknownst to him, Avril smiled to herself that her deception was a success. Everyone seemed to share Prince Hans’ impression that she was a prince—a boy—and while she felt no desire to be one for more than a few hours, Avril was quite thrilled to spend the day as the other princes’ equal and not a potential future bride.

With the introduction out of the way, Hans lost no time to begin the tour, leading the group of royals past every notable part of the palace. As such, it went on for quite a while!

As he talked about his home and its long history, Hans couldn’t hide his pride. He made sure not to ramble, still there was no shortage of anecdotes coming from the young prince. Most of his guests seemed quite captivated. But Avril felt her boredom reach critical mass.

“And here we have our palace’s library,” Hans continued, elegantly gesturing towards it, ever unaware of the princess’s disinterest. “No other library in the entire kingdom, maybe even the world, has such an extensive collection of magic tomes. Some of them are so rare and powerful, that they are locked within a separate chamber.”

For the first time since the tour started, Avril’s ears perked up.

“Not even I am allowed to enter it, but rest assured, the rest of the library is still as exciting as it is stunning.”

The tour continued and Hans led everyone past the royal family’s private chambers, through luxuriant halls filled to the brim with paintings of all the noble figures of Auxtome’s history, and many more attractions until they reached one of the larger banquet halls the palace housed. Prince Hans turned to his guests, an unwavering smile still on his face.

“Now then, I’m sure all this walking on top of your travels has left you with quite an appetite. Our chefs have prepared all of our kingdom’s finest specialties, so eat to your heart’s content. If there is anything you need, our attendants will be right at your service.”

As he wrapped up the tour and exchanged some more pleasantries with a few of the other royals, Hans looked around to make sure that everything was in order.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of his half-brother. He had been sure Lorens would have joined again by the time food was served. Not least of all because Lorens’ mother probably urged him to build connections with the other kingdoms’ royals.

And then Hans realized that a certain red-haired prince was missing as well.

Politely excusing himself from the conversation, Hans beckoned his personal attendant over.

“Say, have you seen Prince Avril?” he whispered so no one else would hear.

“No, my lord. By the time we reached the banquet hall, he was already gone.”

Just for a second, Hans furrowed his brow.

“And you thought not to inform me of this? We have to find him immediately!”

The attendant apologetically bowed, but Hans was already rushing towards the door, slowing down halfway as he realized the others might notice something was wrong if he didn’t.

His pace quickened again as soon as he was out of sight. As he backtracked the path they took to the hall, Hans looked around, growing tenser by the second. If something had happened, it would be his responsibility.

A commotion near the library finally drew his attention. Most of all, a voice he knew well.

“Lorens? What is going on here?” Hans asked as he saw the younger prince standing inside the library, shaking, surrounded by a group of tense looking guards.

Lorens’ face lit up as he saw the other.

“Brother! You need to stop them!”

Hans shot a questioning glance towards the guard closest to him who gulped, before stumbling over his words.

“M-my Lord, it is not how it looks. We heard a sound within the forbidden section of the library and came looking for an intruder, only to find that one tome is missing.”

He hesitated, glancing over to his fellow guards who were suddenly immensely captivated by the floor.

“A-and Prince Lorens right next to where it should have been.”

Hans sighed and slowly turned to his brother, raising a brow.

“I didn’t take it!” Lorens protested, immediately understanding the unspoken question.

“You heard him,” Hans said to the guard, primarily out of a sense of obligation. “You don’t intend to question the word of a prince, do you?”

“O-of course not!” replied the guard. “We never suspected Prince Lorens, but we still have to inform the king and queen of the missing book and his trespassing.”

Now it dawned on Hans what his half-brother wanted him to stop. Once more he turned to Lorens, who he’d never seen with such a pleading look on his face. For a moment Hans thought about what he would say. Then he turned back to the guard.

“I shall give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you mean to fulfill your duty, but all such a report will accomplish is that it draws attention to the fact that someone could steal one of our most prized artifacts from right under your noses. You’ll be lucky if you just lose your jobs.”

The guards flinched.

“But what should we do then, my Lord? Hiding the theft would surely be worse!”

“Isn’t that obvious? Search for the thieves! Who knows how far they might have gotten during all this time you wasted here.”

“Y-yes! Of course!”

The guards frantically spread out to search the area, leaving the princes on their own.

“Thank you, brother! I knew you would help me,” Lorens chirped.

“It was nothing. Had you been more confident, you could have solved this on your own; don’t forget that you are a prince!”

The younger prince’s enthusiasm dampened a little, but he nodded in understanding.

“So what were you doing in the forbidden part of the library?” Hans asked, his suspicion that Lorens might have taken the book not entirely quelled.

“I just… I wanted to learn. I’m not making any progress with my magic training.” Lorens quietly replied, a pout forming on his face. “The books there are about powerful magic, right?”

“They are. But that’s hardly where you should look for knowledge if you are struggling with the basics. Now let’s get you out of here.”

Hans didn’t wait for a reply before turning around and walking out of the library.

Lorens only hesitated for a moment, still he had to run to catch up with his brother.

“Wait, where are we going?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Your room. If there’s a criminal on the loose, you shouldn’t stroll around the castle on your own.”

The young prince stopped in his tracks, visibly displeased at the notion of having to remain in his room for a yet undetermined amount of time, but he continued to follow without complaints.

Once his half-brother was within his chambers, Hans turned back to the door only to be held up by a hesitant voice.

“What about you?” Lorens asked.

“I’ll have to take care of our guests until the situation is resolved.”

“That’s not fair, I want to help, too!” the younger prince protested.

Hans looked at the other, giving him as much of a sympathetic smile as he could muster.

“You’ll help me by staying out of trouble.”

“Okay…” Lorens relented.

Back in the hallway, Hans gestured the guards to lock the door to Lorens’ private quarters.

While it hadn’t been a lie that Hans worried about his half-brother being on his own while an intruder roamed the palace, it was only true in the case that Lorens himself wasn’t the thief. Locking him in for the time being was sure to avoid further problems in either case. Hans was quite pleased with his pragmatic decision. But the issue of the vanished Prince Avril still weighed on his mind, so Hans hurried back to the banquet hall. In the best case, Avril had joined the others by now. And even if not, Hans couldn’t stay away for too long or it would reflect badly on his hospitality.

Prince Hans did his best to appear more composed than he felt as he strode through the doors into the hall. The other royals seemed to enjoy the buffet, and there were no signs that anyone had caught wind of the commotion at the library.

Stifling a sigh of relief, Hans joined in with the crowd just to be seen, hoping his brief absence hadn’t been noticed by too many. He had barely finished a first round through the room when something red caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Avril was back.

Making sure to appear unfazed, Hans approached her.

“Prince Avril, we haven’t had the pleasure of conversing since our greeting. I hope the tour was to your liking?”

Avril smiled at him, a hint of mischief in her eyes, but Hans didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh yes, it was quite long, but your palace is impressive indeed.”

Hans relaxed at her words, sure she would have said something if her brief absence would have been due to unpleasant reasons.

“The library especially,” Avril added, looking into Hans’ eyes just a little too deeply, a knowing grin on her face.

Confusion overcame the prince. Was Avril insinuating that she saw what happened there? Or might she be the culprit?

“That’s true, the library is among my favorites as well,” Prince Hans said, for the first time struggling to keep up his smile. “Would you like to visit it again? Maybe pick up a book or two?”

Hans failed to hide the silent accusation within his questions, leaving Avril visibly amused.

“Why, that sounds wonderful. Another book would certainly do no harm.”

Now Hans was sure that she was toying with him, but without proof he could not accuse her so lightly.

“Great, just give me a moment, then we can leave.”

Hans gracefully stepped on a small stage near the buffet, usually used for musicians, and it didn’t take long until all royals in the room had their eyes on him.

“My esteemed guests, I hope the food was to your liking. From now until dinner, you are free to spend your time however you like. You can return to your quarters or enjoy some recreation at one of the many facilities you have seen today. If there is anything on your mind, do not hesitate to approach me or the attendants that will be serving you for the duration of your stay.”

As soon as it was socially acceptable for Hans to leave, he returned to Avril, who he had never let out of his vision.

“Well then, shall we go?” he asked, his smile more forced than usual.

The walk towards the library was tense. Should Hans be mistaken, an accusation of this scale would surely cause heavy repercussions not just for him but potentially their standing with Poisson as well. If he was right though…

They passed Lorens’ quarters, and a thought made Hans stop in his tracks. Did his half-brother maybe see Avril in the library? Was he not the thief but a witness, perhaps?

“My apologies, I just remembered that I have to ask my brother about something. It will only take a second.”

Tensely, Hans made the guards unlock the door and stepped into the room. But the prince he was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

“Lorens?” Hans called out as he looked around the room. “Now is not the time to play tricks, I need to speak with you!”

Avril followed him into the room and promptly walked towards the bed.

“Hey, what’s that?” she asked, holding up an old-looking book and feigning ignorance.

Hans paled on the spot. It was a tome he had never seen before. Surely the one that was stolen!

His mind was racing. So was Lorens the culprit after all? Did he escape somehow after realizing that Hans still suspected him? But then why was the book still here…

The grin on Avril’s face ultimately told Hans the truth.

“It was you, wasn’t it?!” he let slip more bluntly than he had ever spoken to another and immediately covered his mouth in panic.

Avril simply laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she teased and started flipping through the book.

“Stop that! What have you done with Lorens?”

Hans slowly regained his confidence now that he was sure he found the thief, but her casual demeanor still confused him deeply.

“Nothing. I just took pity on the poor boy. Locked away by his own brother, it was quite heartbreaking to watch.”

“Half-brother. And this room is certainly not a prison!”

Avril closed the book and stepped closer to Hans.

“You're right, breaking him out wasn’t even difficult.”

Hans gasped at the ease with which Avril admitted breaking into a prince’s quarters and taking him away.

“Where have you taken him? What do you want? Money? Is this a scheme to gain the upper hand in the negotiations?”

Avril’s smile briefly faded before she burst into laughter.

“Why are you always so serious? No wonder the tour was duller than Poisson’s tundras. I just want to have some fun!”

Hans blinked in confusion.

“Fun? This is a game to you? Stealing an ancient artifact and abducting a prince are grave matters!”

Avril sighed theatrically and tossed the book over to Hans, who clumsily caught it before checking frantically if it was undamaged.

“Relax. I never meant to keep it, and your brother is just fine. He even went with me voluntarily.”

“Of course he did,” Hans cursed under his breath but felt some relief that Avril seemed to harbor no malicious intent. Her actions caused him a major headache nonetheless.

“Well, fine. I’d be willing to let all this be bygones if you just tell me where he is.”

Disappointment showed on Avril’s face.

“What? But it just got interesting…”

She fidgeted a little, clearly reluctant to say anything more. Hans remained stern.

“Alright, I give in,” she eventually said. “He’s at the top of the eastern watchtower.”

“Atop the—” Hans blurted out, unbelieving, but quickly found his composure again. “That is absurd. You would have never managed to take him there in such a short amount of time.”

A hint of a smile reappeared on Avril’s face.

“Are you sure? I also broke into the forbidden part of the library and this room with no one noticing. I’m quite skilled~”

Hans opened his mouth to retort, but paused. Avril was right, she had already done what he believed to be impossible. At least a chance that Lorens was really in the tower existed.

“Fine, but you’ll come with me. I won’t let you out of my sight again until this is resolved!”

A broad grin spread across Avril’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Prince Hans did his best not to complain as they ascended the stairs of the eastern watchtower. Not just because it took them minutes and climbing stairs wasn’t exactly his favorite pastime, but because Avril kept whistling a cheerful song. Drifting slightly off-key every other bar, and he could tell it was on purpose.

Two flights below the top, he lost his patience.

“Is it your goal to torment me, Prince Avril, or is there a deeper meaning in this noise I just can’t see?”

“Prince Hans, how could you insinuate such a thing!” Avril replied, acting playfully hurt. “I simply like the echo within this tower. And the face you make when you’re trying to hide your annoyance~”

Hans paused and turned to Avril.

“What face?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

“This one,” Avril said cheerfully. “The fake smile you just barely manage to keep up. Unless someone looks you in the eyes for too long, or notices that it’s just a facade, or maybe both, and—”

“Enough!” Hans shouted—his face bright red—and turned away. “I don’t know what I did to you to deserve this, but please cease this mockery.”

For once Avril stayed quiet and the two of them silently continued their climb. Shortly before they reached the top, she softly spoke up.

“There is no deeper meaning. And I’m not trying to torment you. I simply thought you could benefit from loosening up a little.”

“Loosen up?” Hans asked unbelieving. “I’m the crown prince of this land, such a luxury isn’t within my grasp.”

“See, that’s why you’re so boring,” Avril said and passed Hans, who had stopped on the stairs. “Being the crown prince is all the more reason to let loose any chance you get. As long as you fulfill your duties, no one can even get mad at you.”

“And just what would you understand of—” Hans began to retort as he followed Avril up the stairs, but then they reached the top of the tower.

Which was utterly empty?

“You lied to me!” Hans complained as he stomped up the last few steps. “Lorens was never here, was he?!”

“How mean! I think I just misremembered. Maybe he was in the western watchtower?”

For just a second Hans contemplated the possibility, but he had given the red-haired royal the benefit of the doubt too many times already.

“Oh no, I won’t believe another word you say! You sent me on a wild goose chase for nothing but your own enjoyment.”

“I think a wild goose would be much harder to catch than that docile little brother of yours,” Avril replied matter-of-factly.

Prince Hans stared at her for a moment, overflowing with a powerful mixture of anger, annoyance, and a few other emotions he had trouble deciphering this very second.

“You… I… gah!”

Without another word, he stormed off as Avril burst into laughter behind him.

He could hear her follow down behind him not long after, and even as he sped up, she suddenly appeared right next to him.

“Wait up, where are you going?”

“Downstairs,” Hans grumbled, not keen to be roped into yet another of her pranks.

“Aw, but you didn’t even take in the view, it’s quite stunning.”

“I know, I live here.”

Avril fell back a few steps as she noticed his disdain, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Maybe I overdid it a little. How about I tell you if you’re getting closer to your brother’s location to make up for it?”

Hans quietly contemplated her suggestion. Of course it could be another ploy to make him run in circles. Still, maybe Avril really was remorseful and if he had to search the entire palace anyway…

“Very well, my prince. But if I sense so much as the hint of a lie, I’ll inform our parents of your misdeeds today.”

Avril promptly picked up pace and caught up to him.

“That won’t happen, promise!”

Hans wasn’t entirely sure if it was the first time he had seen the other royal smile without any kind of mischief in mind or if he just hadn’t seen her smile so up close, but he felt a lightness in his stomach that he had trouble rationalizing.

He couldn’t like her; not like that. Especially because she was a boy! Or so he thought. It was quite the confusing situation for the young prince.

The two of them had soon searched the entire eastern half of the palace. Avril did little but nudging the other prince into a different direction when he appeared to be stuck, but she thoroughly enjoyed their unconventional game of hide and seek. Hans on the other hand grew ever more flustered to spend so much time alone with the red-haired prince. His mind was racing, trying to come up with explanations for the surge of new feelings he experienced while they were in close proximity.

As time went on, his searching became less and less thorough, eventually just boiling down to a question of “Is he around here?” that was always answered with a simple “No.”

When he grew tired, Hans sat down in one of the palace’s lounges and Avril slouched down next to him with posture so unbecoming of a royal, it was almost offensive to Hans. As if out of reflex, he straightened his own to be even more perfect.

“Say, are you sure you’re not a peasant who just happened to sneak into this tour?”

Avril looked shocked, or maybe just surprised, but she heartily laughed before replying.

“So your silver tongue does have some edge to it. If I pester you a little more, do you think you might permanently lose that stick up your a—”

Hans jumped up, a distraught look on his face.

“Prince Avril, don’t utter such a vulgar word within this palace!”

“So if we go outside, it would be okay?” she asked, amused.

“Well, I mean…”

As many other times this day, Hans was at a loss for words. He still wasn’t used to this feeling. No one else had ever made him feel like he wasn’t in control, and the more it happened, the more unsure he was if he truly despised it.

He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know? Get your a-ass outside and try it if you want.”

The deep blush that appeared on Hans’ face was about as amusing to Avril as the words that caused it, but most of all she enjoyed watching him lose the need to always be proper. Some might call her a bad influence, but she truly believed she was doing him a favor. And herself. Because her day had become significantly more enjoyable since coaxing the crown prince out of his shell.

“Shouldn’t we find your brother first?”

Hans’ expression darkened slightly.

“We’ve already searched almost the entire palace, and all remaining rooms are off limits. Besides, what need do you have for finding him? You know exactly where he is!”

Avril feigned mulling over his words.

“Off limits? Just which rooms might you be talking about?”

A realization dawned on Hans, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” he whispered sharply before storming out of the room, his destination more than clear.

“Did what?” Avril asked innocently as she jogged up to him.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, you’ve hidden him in my personal quarters, haven’t you? The one place no one but me and a select few servants are allowed to enter!”

Avril chuckled.

“If you put it like that, it makes me want to go there all the more~”

Without another word, Hans hurried to his room. The guards were still in place, and normally he wouldn’t have believed that anyone could get past them, but as he stepped inside he saw… Lorens. Lying on Hans’ most luxurious carpet surrounded by a pile of his magic books.

“Brother!” Lorens happily exclaimed on reflex before his expression turned sullen. “You found me.”

“Of course I have! But what were you thinking, hiding in my quarters?”

“Prince Avril told me to. He said he’d let me look through the stolen book if you didn’t find me.”

Upon hearing this explanation, Hans shot an angry glare towards Avril, who sheepishly smiled back at him.

“You should know better than to take part in such foolish ploys! Don’t you realize that he simply used you; made you complicit in his crimes?”

“No offense,” he added towards Avril before questioning just who he was angry at.

“I’m sorry,” Lorens grumbled and got up from the pile of books. “I just want to become a better mage. Like you.”

The words got stuck in Hans’ throat, but he had no chance to reply anyway, as Avril stepped in.

“Aw, you can’t get angry at him, can you? He just wants to be more like his big brother!”

“W-well, there are better ways to go about that,” Hans deflected, still flustered.

“Why don’t you teach him? You even have that special book with you.”

Just then Hans realized he was still clutching the book Avril stole from the library. He went through multiple stages of panic that others might now think he was the thief before concluding that no one else in the palace would even know what the book looked like.

“It is not yet my place to teach,” Hans said sternly.

Avril now joined Lorens to put on her best puppy eyes.

“Aw, please, just a little. I wanna see some magic, too.”

It took quite a bit of begging, but eventually the two of them wore Hans down.

“Okay, fine! But I’ll just go over the basics. We need to return the book before my parents hear of its absence.”

A celebratory cheer went through Hans’ chambers and its perpetrators expectantly sat down on the chaise longue. Hans began reciting what his magic instructor taught him years ago, much to Avril’s disappointment who had expected a much more hands-on presentation.

“In essence, the core of magic is to manifest a will, and turn it into reality. Our world, however, does not allow its balance to be upset. Anything you gain will be taken away in equal measure. Estimating these risks is the greatest skill a mage can have.”

The only one still captivated by Hans’ lecture at that point was Lorens. But even his enthusiasm dampened when the words sank in.

“Wait, no matter what you do, there will be downsides to your spells?” he asked, for the first time grasping this most basic concept their magic entailed.

“Indeed, though not all consequences are negative per se.”

The younger prince seemed to think for a moment, only to get up, suddenly looking rather bored.

“Hm, I’m not sure if I want to be a mage then. I’m gonna get some food.”

And with that, he was gone. Hans stared at the door, both caught off guard and somehow unsurprised that his half-brother would be so quick to give up for such a half-hearted reason.

Avril stifled a laugh but spoke no further of Lorens’ sudden departure.

“What a fool,” Hans mumbled to himself. “But maybe I’m the fool for expecting any different.”

“Well, to be honest, you didn’t exactly make magic sound exciting,” Avril said and promptly yawned. “Can’t you just show off a spell or two? That’d be much more fun than all that boring theory!”

Hans sighed and began returning all the books that were strewn around the room back to the shelf Lorens took them from.

“There are no spells, like you’d find them in fairy tales. The technique is always the same, just the will you manifest differs. Of course, the difficulty increases the more complex said will is, but—”

“Then show me that!” Avril interrupted him, her excitement rekindled. “Do you think I could learn it, too?”

Hans hesitated as he looked at Avril, who stood so close to him he thought he could feel the warmth of her smile. He averted his gaze, a soft blush on his face.

“W-well, if you have talent, it might very well be possible.”

The crown prince proceeded to explain the basic technique he spoke of and showed her an application of it that had no significant downsides: making a piece of paper float through the air. Upon completion of the spell, it would simply fall to the ground where it would remain for as long as it floated previously.

As simple as it was, Avril was delighted. Hans even made it fly in ornate patterns, which made her want to try it all the more. For a while that was all the two did, Avril concentrating on her will and the piece of paper she meant to free from gravity’s effect, while Hans observed, correcting her form and giving advice from time to time.

“There! I think it just moved!” Avril exclaimed excitedly, but what little distance the paper may have floated upwards became nothing again right that instant.

“Don’t let up your focus. A half-manifested will harbors unpredictable dangers!” Hans said, still deep in his instructor role.

They continued for a short while longer, but Avril could not repeat her earlier success.

“This is harder than I thought…” she grumbled as she sank down to take a break.

“Don’t fret, most magic novices need at least a month before they first see any kind of success,” Hans tried to comfort her. “Still, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we really need to return the book! Dinner is only an hour away.”

“Alright, alright, just give me the book and I’ll put it back.”

Avril got up again to reach for the stolen tome, but Hans quickly grabbed it.

“Oh no, I’ll go with you. I won’t leave you on your own with this book again!”

“I can’t break into the library if I have to take you with me,” she retorted slightly irked that he still didn’t trust her. Though she couldn’t fault him either…

“Why not? How have you broken in, anyway?”

“Duh, I climbed in through the window,” Avril replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

At first Hans thought she was joking. But as she quietly looked on, it dawned on him she spoke the truth.

“Through the window?! Do you know how far up we are?”

Now it was Avril’s turn to look at him in disbelief.

“Yes? But if you don’t lock your windows, that’s still the easiest way inside.”

“Well, I will not risk my neck by clambering up the palace walls! We’ll have to sneak in through the door.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if we get caught,” Avril relented and took Hans by the hand to lead him out of the room. Hans hardly managed to form even a single coherent thought until she let go again.

By the time they reached the library, most guards that Hans had sent to search for the thief had returned to their positions. They didn’t think twice about Hans entering the room or even about the book he was carrying, but going through the door to the forbidden section would be another story.

Hans led Avril to a part of the library where they were on their own to think of a plan.

“And if I try to distract them?” she suggested.

“That won’t work. They’re more alert than usual, so at least some would remain at the door.”

“Then I’m out of ideas. Why don’t you just use magic?”

By now Hans knew Avril well enough to realize she wasn’t joking, but the idea still seemed absurd to him.

“Magic? I may as well stab a knife into my leg right here and now. Who knows what may happen if I just willed this book back to its rightful place.”

Avril shrugged.

“I didn’t say to teleport it back, we could just turn ourselves invisible and walk right past the guards.”

Prince Hans drew breath to object, but as he thought about it, he had to admit that the idea wasn’t half-bad. He cleared his throat as he composed himself again and calmly replied.

“Very well, I still don’t like the risk, but we may as well try.”

He had never attempted to turn invisible before, but it shouldn’t pose any more problems than another form of transmutation. As he began to put a spell on them, Avril joined in, following through with what she had learned earlier. Whether it actually helped was hard to discern, but soon they were invisible! Even to each other.

“It worked!” Hans exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement at the success. “But I can’t see you, Prince Avril. M-may I hold your hand again? Just… to know where you are?”

He half expected her to laugh, but instead he felt her hand reaching out to him. The prince clumsily took it, and the two made their way to the door of the forbidden part of the library.

Hans’ heart was pounding as they sneaked past the guards, not just because of stress. To his relief, the spell held up, and they made it inside with no problem. Avril lead him to the shelf she had stolen the book from, and Hans quietly returned it.

“That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” she whispered.

“N-no,” Hans replied, ever conscious of her hand in his. “Now let’s return before we’re visible again.”

No longer than it took to go back, were they invisible, and Hans let out a sigh of relief as they reappeared. Avril let go of his hand, and as disappointed as he was, he felt quite glad too because his own had started to become rather clammy.

“That was fun!” Avril said with her usual carefree smile that no longer irritated Hans.

“Indeed, it was,” he admitted truthfully. He couldn’t remember when last he felt so free of his princely burdens. “Now shall we get ready for dinner? I feel rather peckish.”

To that Avril agreed quite readily, and for the first time in hours, they parted ways to each go to their quarters.

For once, Hans wasn’t the first to arrive. It took him quite a while to pick out his outfit, since he wanted to impress. More than usual. He was only apart from Avril for a short while, but it made him realize something that had crept up on him the entire day. He felt drawn to this prince. Like he had never felt before. And even at the risk of sullying his reputation as a perfect crown prince, he wanted to confess to him just what he felt.

The hall was already filled with many royals, even more than earlier that day, since even the adults were present now. As he looked around hopefully, he couldn’t find who he was looking for. His heart ached a little as he strolled across the room, turning his head towards anything red he spotted. But it was never the prince he longed to see.

Just as he began to doubt if Avril was even there, he felt a gently tap on his shoulder. His hope renewed, he spun around and saw… a girl. In a dress more beautiful than he had ever seen. A girl with deep red hair and a smile he would never mistake for someone else's.

“P-prince… Avril?” he hesitantly asked.

“Princess. But otherwise, yes,” she said cheerfully.

Hans still couldn’t believe his eyes.

“B-but, earlier you were—”

“Wearing more practical clothes. It’s not that easy to climb in a dress, and I didn’t want all the princes to approach me during the tour.”

Prince Hans nervously swallowed. Just as he accepted having fallen in love with a boy, Avril sprung yet another surprise on him! But his feelings hadn’t changed. Unlike his assumptions of who he felt attracted to.

“So… have you no interest in being approached at all?” Hans asked and blushed further as he realized how transparent his question was.

Avril raised a brow but still appeared cheerful.

“What, you’ve seen me in a dress for just a minute and already feel the need to confess to me?”

“N-no! That need was there even before!” Hans blurted out and quickly looked around if anyone had overheard.

Avril laughed warmly.

“So it wasn’t my imagination then. I suppose I don’t mind if it’s you who expresses interest~”

The relief Prince Hans felt was immense. He once again composed himself and looked at Avril, who suddenly seemed even prettier than before. Hans could hardly tear his eyes from her. So much so that…

“Oh no,” he whispered as he realized. “Our spell from the library… I’m afraid it’s recoil just began.”

All across the room, the royals turned their heads to the stunning young couple. Even besides being good looking under normal circumstances, now they weren’t just visible, they were hyper-visible. No one in their vicinity could look away from them without considerable effort!

“My, then we better look deserving of all this attention,” Avril said, not fazed in the slightest, and linked her arm with that of Hans.

At first the prince felt a little self-conscious under everyone’s stares. But as the evening progressed, he rather relished them. Before long, the magic induced stares had faded but the two of them were still more than eye-catching.

“Why did you play all these tricks on me?” Hans asked when quiet had fallen over them for a short while.

“Hmm,” Avril replied thoughtfully. “You were just there. And I was curious if there was more to you than that boring, perfect prince you always try to look like.”

Hans appreciated her straightforwardness, but was a little disappointed that was all there was to it.

“I already told you, I have to act that way since I am the crown prince.”

“No, you don’t. I’m the crown princess of Poisson, and I’m doing just fine.”

Prince Hans gasped.

“You are what? And no one admonishes you for your mischief? Or your manners? Even dressing as a prince to fool other royals?”

The princess laughed once more, and the sound filled Hans with warmth.

“When you put it like that it sounds pretty bad, but I promise I can act the part when I have to! In fact, I work all the harder to fulfill my role if it means I can afford such freedoms in return,” she said and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, almost looking bashful for once. “You should try it too, all the pressure is easier to deal with if you allow yourself to just be free sometimes.”

Her words resonated deeply with Hans. It seemed like such a simple truth, but also one that is easy to overlook.

“I will,” he replied and took her hand into his. “If you show me how, I’ll gladly follow.”

[tcsauaskblog]

What's the most wholesome thing Gladstone has ever done for Donald? ps: this blog gives me life

Gladstone can't cook. Sure, he could probably whip up something and have it taste moderately ok, but that was just his luck kicking in. It’s not like he knew what he was doing. 

‘Oatmeal’s so easy it’s practically cheating,’ he remembers Della saying a forgotten amount of years ago. And if Della could cook anything even remotely edible, then surely Gladstone would have no problems. It would be fine. He totally had this in the bag.

He looked up from his table of ingredients to the home phone hanging on the wall and had the fleeting thought of calling Gran. Not because he couldn’t do it or needed any help or anything, but just to be sure for assurance's sake. 

But no, he couldn’t call her even if he wanted to. Gran had taken Del and Feth up to the mountains for an overnight Woodchuck retreat and wouldn’t be within phone service till Sunday. 

Meaning Gladstone was on his own.

Gladstone rolled up his sleeves and gave a huff of determination. Like he thought, he’d be fine. Making dumb oatmeal was totally within his capabilities. Prepare yourself world, Gladstone was about to rewrite history and make the best freaking oatmeal ever!

He turned on the stovetop under a saucepan of water and brought it to a boil before adding in a cup of oats. He doesn’t really know what else you put into oatmeal besides, well, oats, but he had a distinct memory of Don’s oatmeal always tasting sweet and cinnamony, so he adds a spoonful of cinnamon and honey and keeps stirring. 

Somewhere in the back of his head, Gladstone thinks Don usually puts more stuff into his, making it taste creamy and sweet and delicious. But asking Don about it would seem like he lost this battle and Gladstone would not give Donald that satisfaction, so he pushes the thought out of his head and keeps stirring till the oats seemed soft enough.

Turning the stovetop off and letting the oats cool down a bit, Gladstone cuts up an orange and makes some honey lemon tea before putting everything on a tray and making his way upstairs.

He knocks on his cousins’ door twice, but doesn't wait for an answer as he opens it anyway and walks into the dark room. 

“Wakey wakey, eggs and.. well... ok so I didn’t make any bacon. Or eggs. But get up anyway, I have something better,” Gladstone sing songs as he balances the tray on his hip and uses his other hand to flip the light switch on.

The lump of blankets in Donald’s bed shifted as soon as Gladstone walked in the door, but it was another few seconds of jostled movement before a head poked out of the pile of quilts and glared at Gladstone.

“Go away,” Donald practically growled, and Gladstone had to forcibly stop himself from flinching at how scratchy and gravely Don’s voice was.

“No can do patient zero, I’m your self designated nurse for the next two days whether you like it or not,” Gladstone says, grabbing Della’s desk chair as he walked over to Don’s bed.

“Since when?” Donald croaks again, and buries his head under the blankets once more just as Gladstone took a seat beside him.

“Since you collapsed in the field a couple of hours ago with a 102-degree fever and nearly gave Gus and I a heart attack,” Gladstone comments as he sets the tray down on the bedside table beside them. “Gus is fine by the way, I sent him back to Cuthbert’s a little while ago after he helped carry you in. What have you been eating lately anyway? Took us nearly five minutes to haul you up here.”

“Shut up,” Donald groaned again before poking a one-eyed glare at Gladstone from under the blanket. “They couldn’t send a prettier and nicer nurse?”

“Excuse you, I’m the prettiest and nicest nurse in this joint. You’re lucky to have me, there’s a teddy bear down the hall that’s in dire need of a stitch job and here I am tending to your dumb ass instead,” Gladstone remarks as a heated joke, but quickly regrets it when Donald just breathes haggardly and stays a little too still under the blanket for Gladstone’s taste. “Anyway, can you sit up? You need to eat something. I made you some oatmeal.”

Donald didn’t reply back for a few quiet moments, and Gladstone almost thought he had gone back to sleep. But before Gladstone could shake his shoulder to check, Donald rolled over from his side and slowly sat up, the bed creaking the entire time as Donald rubbed his eyes to adjust them to the light. “You... you made oatmeal?”

Gladstone swallowed hard at the sight of his older cousin, and didn’t think it was possible to look so pale and so flushed at the same time. His cheeks and forehead were tinted a soft red, but his hands and arms looked clammy and washed out. There were dark bags like bruises under his eyes, a combination of stress and sleep deprivation that had overworked him to the point of getting a fever and Gladstone felt absolutely sick with how tired Don looked.

His eyes were a glazed over blue, unfocused, and hazy as he lazily made eye contact with Gladstone. “I... I didn’t know you knew how to make oatmeal. I didn’t know you knew how to make anything.”

“Please, oatmeal is so easy, it’s practically cheating,” Gladstone rolled his eyes and hoped he could get away with quoting Della without Donald noticing. 

It must have been a testament to how rotten Donald was feeling because he didn’t question it a second time and just nodded sluggishly, stifling a yawn as he balanced his head against his knee and closed his eyes.

“...Don’t need it.... I’m ok,” Donald muttered halfheartedly into his knee, like he was desperately trying to convince himself instead, and the worried knot in Gladstone’s stomach tightened into something angry and frustrated.

“Still dizzy? Need any more ibuprofen?” Gladstone asked, trying not to let the worried knot that had tied itself in his gut over the past few hours tighten, but Donald just shook his head softly.

“Don’t lie to your nurse, dude. You’re obviously not ok,” and Gladstone hated this side of Donald. The stupid stubborn side that refused to let anyone in and help him when he needed it. It reminded Gladstone too much of himself, which honestly made him hate it even more. “You can barely sit up and talk to me. Can you suck up your stupid pride for like, two seconds, and just tell me what you need?”

Donald gave Gladstone another one-eyed glare, but there was hardly any fight in his words when he mumbled a, “Really... I’m ok... Just tired.” And Gladstone was seriously starting to get pissed off now.

“If you say you’re ok one more time, I don’t care if I’m your nurse or not, I swear I’m gonna smack you,” Gladstone snapped, and was surprised when Donald let out a low and wheezy chuckle. 

“Are you... really trying to pick a fight with a sick guy right now?” Donald mused and Gladstone almost rolled his eyes so hard, he would have hurt himself if he wasn’t a pro at it.

“Oh, so NOW you’re sick. But when you’re hauling irrigation pipe around in 100-degree weather while being so dizzy you can barely walk straight and with a high enough fever to boil an egg, you’re all, ‘oh, don’t worry about me gran,’ and ‘I’m totally fine Della, go have fun.’ And by the time we figure out you’re not, it’s too late and you’re already half-dead in a creek somewhere,“ Gladstone complained, throwing his arms up in the air exhaustedly.

“I was in a field, not a creek.”

“My point is,” Gladstone rubbed his brow in annoyance, and tried to remember that he was indeed trying to take care of Donald, not pick a fight with him. But Gladstone was his cousin first, caretaker later, and it was high time someone spoke up to Donald about his self-sabotaging tendencies. “You always do this. You always push yourself too hard and never let any of us help you when you need it, and I’m getting sick and tired of having to worry all the time about you lying to us about whether you’re ok or not.” 

Gladstone crossed his arms over his chest tightly and let his words hang in the air, his eyes glued to Donalds in a fierce sort of way that practically dared Don to try and argue back with him.

But to Gladstone’s surprise, Don just knitted his brows tightly and shifted his gaze. Hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on top of his knees, Donald muttered a soft “...I know... Sorry,” that caught Gladstone completely off guard.

And Gladstone had never seen Donald cry in all his 13 years, and Donald wasn’t crying now, but his eyes got an intense watery that made Gladstone’s heart turn ice cold and sink all the way to his feet. 

And maybe it was just that Donald was really sick and tired and wasn’t in the right headspace to put up a fight and defend himself against Gladstone, but still, Gladstone couldn’t help but feel the guilt of his earlier accusation tear through his angry exterior like a knife through butter, and Gladstone melted into something soft and forgiving and far less intimidating and hard-pressed.

He was still frustrated with Donald, but to be fair to his cousin, it wasn’t like Donald tried to be difficult like this on purpose.

Donald’s always tried to do things by himself, ever since they were little kids. He always tried to carry the world on his shoulders and be the singular pillar holding all his family up. When they all moved into Gran’s for the first time, Gran made a comment to Donald that he was the man of the house now, and she would be needing his help to take care of everyone. Gladstone knows Gran only meant it as a way to cheer Donald up, but Don took it all too seriously, and used it as an excuse to do things on his own.

It really wasn’t like Donald was too prideful to ask for help, like Gladstone. It was just that he didn’t know how or when it was ok too. And he’d much rather burn up completely at both ends before he ‘burdened’ his family with what he considered ‘his’ responsibilities. 

And it was frustrating cause in the same light, Gladstone didn’t know how to offer help without it seeming like he was looking or picking a fight.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s just,” Gladstone sighed, and ran a tired hand through his hair before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the edge of Don’s bed, craning his neck so that he could make eye contact with Don from where he was leaning his head against his knee. “I don’t like doing this. I’m not good at doing this.”

“What... taking care of my ‘dumb ass’?” Donald muttered sarcastically. 

“Seeing you sick and being useless to help you,” Gladstone stated flatly, staring at Don’s eyes with a heated deadpan as they got wide and electric with surprise.

“Helping you is the easy part dude. Getting you to let me is what I’m not good at. You know it’s ok to take a break, right? I know I complain about doing chores and all, but it’s not like I won’t help pick up the slack if you need it.” And Donald's eyes were large and blue and glued to Gladstones as he continued, trying with every once of his luck to get Donald to understand his wishes. “You don’t always have to do everything yourself all the time. You’re allowed to take a step back and breathe once in a while. It’s not like everything will fall apart without you there to hold it together, ya know. We’re not so fragile that we’ll fall into ruin if you don’t run yourself into an early grave to fix everything yourself. You’re allowed to ask for help.”

Gladstone leaned forward and tapped Donald’s forehead a couple of times and gave him a wry smile. “So I don’t need you to apologize. I just need you to be ok. Like, really be ok. And to not try to take on the world by yourself. You’re not alone, dude. Stop acting like it.”

Donald didn’t retort with anything witty or spitfire back, which Gladstone half expected him to, but he nodded honestly and clearly, and gave Gladstone a wry smile of his own.

“Ok,” was all he said, and that was as good as gold for Gladstone.

“Ok, good!” Gladstone straightened up in his seat and reached over for the bowl of oatmeal on the nightstand. “It should be cool enough now for you to eat. I can’t promise it’s like, the best thing ever, but you need to eat something and I’m pretty sure this won’t make you feel any worse.

Donald took the bowl slowly, and raised an eyebrow of surprise in Gladstone’s general direction.

“I still can’t believe... you made me oatmeal.”

“What, like it’s hard?” Gladstone answered back, leaning forward on his elbows once again and looking at the bowl with a nervousness he didn’t quite know what to do with other than to not show it to Donald at ALL costs. “Just eat it before it gets cold, ya skeptic.”

Donald took an unhurried bite, and chewed for what seemed like a torturous forever to Gladstone, before breaking into a gentle smile.

“It’s good,” Don commented while he chewed, and smiled even bigger when Gladstone physically beamed on the spot.

“What, really? You mean it? I knew it wouldn’t be like, horrible, but it was my first time making it so I wasn’t sure and-,”

“Try it,” Donald interrupted, still smiling as he held out a spoonful towards Gladstone, who, in his defense, took it immediately in his excitement over his first real cooked dish. And didn’t even think twice about possibly getting Donald’s sick germs, (even though he never gets sick anyway.)

As soon as the spoon entered his mouth, Gladstone started coughing and gagging, and almost downed Donald’s entire cup of tea in one swig to try and wash the oatmeal down.

It wasn’t like it was horrible, it definitely was by anyone's standards edible. But it wasn’t good by any means either. Gladstone had definitely put too much cinnamon in it, and the honey was almost nonexistent, making it all together just taste way too bitter and chalky.

“UGH! You liar! You said it tasted good!” Gladstone barked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and staring daggers into Donald as his cousin smiled innocently back. 

“I said it was good, not that it tasted good,” Donald supplied simply, taking his spoon back from where Gladstone had thrown it back onto the bed and taking another bite. “Not that is matters. I’m pretty sure this fever made me lose my sense of taste.”

“What’s the difference then?” Gladstone demanded, and Donald just continued to smile softly into his bowl, his soft blue eyes practically illuminated against the red of his cheeks.

“It’s warm,” Donald replied back plainly, not looking at Gladstone as he took another big bite out of it. “I like it.”

And Gladstone didn’t really understand what Donald meant by that, but a pull in his stomach told him it was a compliment, and he could feel his own cheeks get hot with pride. So he stood up abruptly and said something about getting Donald a glass of water as he walked toward the door, not wanting to show Donald how pleased he was by the praise. 

Even though the oatmeal wasn’t a huge success, Donald still liked it, which meant Gladstone won the battle in the end.

Once he had gotten a glass of cold water from the kitchen and a cold wash rag for Donald’s forehead, he made his way back up the stairs towards his cousin’s bedroom.

Gladstone had left Don’s bedroom door open when he left, but before he could announce his arrival, he heard Don’s quiet snoring. Donald had fallen back asleep, with half of his body uncovered by his blanket and with the lights still on. Gladstone shook his head and smiled, but when he walked over to put the glass of water down on Donald’s nightstand, he noticed the bowl of oatmeal completely empty against Donald's side. The spoon was still hanging out of his mouth. 

“Dummy,” Gladstone said with more affection then he’d ever let Donald hear while he was awake, and took the spoon out of his mouth with the utmost care. He put the empty bowl and spoon on the tray and recovered Donald with the blanket, making sure to tuck in any stray limbs. He brushed some of Donald's wild bed hair out of the way before placing the cold washcloth on his forehead. Donald sighed quietly at the contact, but otherwise made no show of waking up anytime soon. Gladstone noticed that his fever didn’t feel nearly as hot as it did earlier, and felt a sigh of his own escape his lips in relief.

Gladstone gathered the empty bowl and spoon on the tray, leaving all but a single slice of orange that he stole for himself on Donald's nightstand, and put Della’s desk chair by where he had found it. 

“Call me when you need me,” Gladstone said, and didn’t care that Donald was fast asleep and couldn’t hear what he had said when he turned off the light and closed the door.