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reylofanfictionanthology · 4 years ago

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TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!

Authors will be revealed next week! For now all fics are anonymous. Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21. We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew. He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again. Was leaving worth it? Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 4 years ago

Text

Not a Hero (Fellowship x Soldier! Reader)

Synopsis: You, a soldier of Gondor, place duty above all else. When Boromir starts showing signs of plotting against Frodo and the Ring, you take matters into your own human hands, which get a little dirty, and bloody, in the process.

AN: Really wanted to try writing something a little more dark and gritty, and voila! This is the result. I love Boromir so, so much, so this was difficult to write (styled as gender neutral, for all readers)

Warnings: depictions of violence

Pairings: none

You were a soldier of Gondor, which meant both duty and the protection of Middle-earth came first, above all else.

Like most other soldiers, you stood strong, in both mind and heart. However, also just like most other soldiers, you had an intense inclination to get your hands dirty, in the name of service.

Being the most promising in his ranks, Boromir had taken you along to Rivendell. This was where it all started to go downhill.

None could miss the malicious glint in Boromir’s eye, when he watched the Ring. More startling so, none could deny the growing glimmer of murder, when he laid his gaze upon Frodo.

It was nothing personal, and yet entirely so at the same time. Boromir was taken with the Ring, and coveted it deeply. You, for the most part, felt no attraction to the Ring. You perhaps would have, under different circumstances, but as mentioned before, your mind was set, and clouded, by one thing, and one thing only – protecting Middle-earth.

This meant that Frodo, and the Ring, were both under your sword and service. Like a typical soldier, you would strike without warning. You wouldn’t blink once, or think twice, if it fell under the obligation of your sworn duty.

The Fellowship, for the most part, respected this. You held yourself in a high esteem, and diligently shined the insignia emblem on your cloak every night.

Though their races differed from yours, and though yours was arguably weaker in mind, spirit and body, they understood your sense of responsibility. However, what they did not anticipate, was just how deeply that sense ran. In all honesty, it ran deeper than an icy river at night, and was alike, in many ways, to the chilling waters.

Deep, cold and dark – without so much as a shred of mercy towards those who fell in the rapids.

It most definitely first began with the glances Boromir gave Frodo, and then the time he picked the Ring up from in the snow. There were other instances, at camp, where he would sharpen his sword, and glare Frodo down.

The young Hobbit was understandably unnerved. In fact, the entire Fellowship began to walk on eggshells. Whispers began to resonate in the night, about how merciless the race of men truly was. None of them, even Aragorn, were true-blooded human beings. Their souls didn’t work the same way.

This, of course, only became more and more apparent, the more only Boromir fell into the web of Sauron’s luring promises.

With a hard-set jaw, furrowed brows and analytical eyes, you walked behind your captain. You kept your sights trained on him, as he discreetly stole glances at Frodo up ahead.

You all walked through the woods, and did so in silence. This, naturally, made the dark words playing on Boromir’s tongue all the more evident.

He spoke of curses towards Frodo, and darker threats you wished to not repeat. Your hand stayed on the hilt of your sword, at all times.

Boromir may have been your captain, but he did not stand in the way of Middle-earth’s fate. You simply wouldn’t allow it.

Tensions were at an all-time high that night, at camp. Boromir sat seething against a tree, whilst Frodo uncomfortably tugged on the Ring.

Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli had all shared worried glances, before they ultimately fell asleep that night. Two nights of walking without rest was enough to fatigue even the most tireless of the Fellowship’s elite.

You were given the night watch, and happily so too. You could observe Boromir throughout every hour of the dark, as he himself watched over Frodo.

It was a triangle of stares. Frodo nervously studied the ground, before he too drifted off. Boromir maliciously revered him, whilst you burned holes into the captain’s head.

It was only when Frodo began rustling in his sleep, when you leant back against your own trunk, and feigned sleep.

Frodo apparently heard the call of nature, and quietly rose from his sleeping bag, as to enter the woods alone.

Boromir, also having been resting, peeked one eye open. He coldly watched the Hobbit retreat into the trees, before he too rose.

You opened an eye of your own, and idly observed Boromir. He stood, silent as a creeping fox, and retrieved a pickaxe from a sleeping Sam’s rucksack. His weapon of choice that night, so it appeared. More discreet than a sword, that’s for sure.

Once assured that Boromir had walked away far enough, as to the point where your footsteps would not be heard, you swiftly rose.

On silent toes, you walked through the dark. You were younger, faster and agiler than your older captain, and were confident you could keep Frodo safe from harm.

Soon, you found Boromir in the woods. He stood holding the pickaxe, and hid behind a tree. Narrowing your eyes, you emerged into the area.

With a start, Boromir gasped. He then feigned humour, and placed a hand over his chest, as to still his beating heart.

“Y/n, you startled me,” he quietly said.

You didn’t respond for a moment. Instead, you merely only studied both him, and the pickaxe.

“A bit late for an evening stroll, is it not?” you flatly asked.

Kicking himself off from the tree, and lowering his pickaxe, Boromir glanced over his shoulder briefly. Once assured the Hobbit was not yet returning, Boromir turned his head back around, and focused on you.

“Indeed,” he chuckled. “I was merely only ensuring our young Ring-bearer made it back safely.”

Gesturing towards the pickaxe, with a nod of your chin, you snapped your cold eyes upwards to his, and questioned him.

“You need a pickaxe for that?” you knowingly asked.

At once, the friendly demeanour of Boromir dropped. You would have been scared, of his grinding teeth, clenched jar and murderous eyes, had you not been a soldier. This is what you were trained to handle, and handle you would.

“Must I really wear a façade around you, soldier?” Boromir asked through gritted teeth. He stepped forwards, and met you chest to chest.

Barely stumbling back once, you squared your shoulders, and coolly met his glowering eyes.

“What façade do you wear, captain?” you bit back, ever using an even tone.

This caused something to snap inside of Boromir, like the breaking of a red thread previously hanging on. He spoke in low, hasty whispers, and growled down at you.

“We are the only humans in this Fellowship, Y/n,” he seethed. “More to the point, we are the only two from Gondor! You ought to understand why I must do this – I do this for our people, and our prosperity! We need the Ring, Y/n. Help me.”

Your face remained cool, as you stared up at him, with detached eyes.

“No, Boromir,” you flatly denied. “The Ring must stay with Frodo, and us with the Fellowship. Our duty is to our continent, not just our kingdom. We are sworn to our cause, and we mustn’t forsake that.”

“Look at you,” Boromir seethed again in disgust. He ran his eyes up and down your form, and scrunched his nose in disdain. “You are nothing but a loyal dog, blindly following orders – orders that do not even come from your own captain, but Elven filth instead! I will do this without you-“

As he had gone to turn away, and track down Frodo, you kicked the backside of his knees.

Fumbling for just a moment, Boromir lost his balance. At the same time, you swiped the pickaxe from his hands, and held it threateningly.

Turning around, with an even more enraged glint than before, Boromir panted heavily. He revered you in betrayal, and voiced so aloud.

“You are pathetic!” he growled. “You will damn us all! You will damn Gondor!”

“I’m doing this for Gondor,” you replied, for once allowing a snarl of your own to crawl through.

It wasn’t long after, that a brawl of sorts took place. The fight consisted of thrown fists, deep kicks to the abdomen and swinging arms. It then wasn’t long after, that the pickaxe became heavily involved.

Time passed both quickly and slowly, as you stood, hunched over, above Boromir. One swing after another, and blood spurted everywhere. It got onto your face, into your hair and up your nose. Worst of all, it entered your mouth. You could taste the rust of your sin, but simultaneously, the success of keeping Middle-earth safe, for one more day.

However, slipping your attention, Frodo, having returned from his short journey, watched from the shadows.

He winced and trembled, with every blow you delivered to the man’s pulped face. His eyes were wide in horror, as he heard the sickening crunches of metal meeting bone.

Soon, your duty was done. You stood above Boromir, and panted heavily. Even though it was only seconds later, you barely recalled the event. In fact, it simply seemed like a cold white blur, rather than a reality of the past.

You soaked in the sounds of the forest for a few moments – grounding yourself again. Wind blowed through the trees, owls hooted and bugs zipped past.

You stared down at Boromir. He was barely recognisable. A glimmer of guilt flashed through your chest, but was chased away by your soldier’s conscious.

That night, you had taken to a little creek nearby, as to rinse yourself of the blood. You left the pickaxe on Boromir’s body as you did so – perhaps a little frazzled from the event, which was still fresh in your numb mind.

So, on your way back to camp, you quickly bent down, and retrieved it. Frodo observed you, at the late hour it was, as you discreetly slipped the pickaxe into your bag, before leaning against your tree-trunk again.

The next morning, all had felt the sombre presence of death in the air. It hung around like a bad omen, and tainted the wind with malevolent intent.

Frodo barely said a word to you, for he didn’t know how to. He knew he had to say something, but by the heart of him, he still couldn’t believe it to be true. Part of him figured it to be a bad dream. However, the shrill shouting of Gimli soon told him otherwise.

All gathered around Boromir’s fallen body, and grimaced in terror. Who could have done this, they wondered?

“Orcs,” Legolas whispered, keeping his haunted eyes on Boromir’s fallen body. “We must be getting hunted by them at night…”

“From now on, we double the night-watch,” Aragorn ordered. He revered Boromir in guilt. If only he himself had stayed awake, then perhaps this travesty wouldn’t have occurred.

Whilst Merry, Sam and Pippin all teared up in distress, you watched on with cold eyes – completely detached. Aragorn noticed this, but said nothing.

That day, a funeral pyre was lit. Soft words of apology were said, before Boromir’s body was burned.

Frodo hated how the fire of the funeral reflected in your eyes. Every irk of duty was illuminated within your gaze, as you forced yourself to watch on. It was your responsibility, you told yourself, your duty of service.

Travelling that day was done so in silence, and done so faster than ever before. All except you, now thought Orcs to be hot on their tails. Well, all except you, and Frodo.

As sundown approached, and gave way to darkness once more, clouds overtook the sky. A heavy rain began to fall, and drench the woodland camp.

Everyone put their hoods up, and shielded themselves from the wetness of night. You had decided to announce the need of more firewood, and wandered off into the woods – alone.

Frodo watched you with terrified eyes, as he most certainly remembered what had happened the previous night, when you did the same thing.

Aragorn sat on a log nearby, trying feebly to stoke the dying fire. He saw the Hobbit’s distress, and uneven panting. Whether or not Frodo shivered from fear or cold, was unknown.

“Frodo,” Aragorn gently extracted, earning not only the Hobbit’s attention, but the entire camp’s. “Are you…alright, Frodo?”

Swallowing his nerves, and looking between both the ranger and forest, Frodo battled with his inner conflicts. However, the need to tell someone of last night’s horrors overwhelmed him, and with a swift rise of his feet, he fumbled towards your sack.

What he revealed to everyone at the camp, stunned them entirely. The mood dropped, into one of horror, and their uneven breathing was drowned out by the rain.

Not long after, and you returned, with an armful of logs. As you entered the camp, you spoke. However, you soon stopped, following the Fellowship’s hostile reaction.

“I apologise for the wait, it proved difficult to find dry wood,” you explained, glancing at the group.

Everyone stood around Aragorn, and snapped their attentions back at you, the second you reappeared, and spoke.

Unsettled by their presence, you knitted your brows. Making a move to place the firewood down, you questioned both them, and their silence.

“What’s going on?” you curiously asked, walking over to the fire, as to dump the logs.

Dusting your hands off, you squinted in the rain, as you looked back at Aragorn.

After sharing a dubious glance with both Legolas and Gimli, Aragorn brought the pickaxe forwards. You stared at it in quick shock, but placed your own tough façade on.

“Where did you get that?” you slowly asked.

The pickaxe was covered in blood �� Boromir’s blood, to be exact. It’d take a fool to not trust Frodo’s frightened words, and the clear evidence.

As they stood in a huddled group at one end of the camp, and you alone in another, a tense exchange of words took place. The rain pelted on, and drenched everybody, like miserably drowned rats.

“Did you borrow this?” Aragorn tensely asked, shaking the pickaxe in gesture. However, when you didn’t respond, he questioned you again, although, his tone shone in more desperation – coveting answers. “Why did you not tell us?”

You analysed the weapon briefly, and the blood that coated it. Looking away, and studying the ground momentarily, you replied. Your jaw was set again, and your brows hardened.

“I was going to,” you sincerely replied.

Finding that you said no more, and planned not to, Aragorn shook his head – completely at a loss.

“Why would you not tell us what happened?” he pressed again.

Legolas, Gimli and the Hobbits all nervously looked between one another, as the tension in the air rose – akin to frogs in boiling water.

“I couldn’t,” was all you could offer, with another aversion of your briefly lifted eyes.

“You killed him…you killed Boromir,” Gimli stated, in a manner of shock. Sure, he didn’t appreciate Boromir, not in the slightest, but this…this was something else. This was murder.

Everyone knew it too. This was something their divergent souls couldn’t comprehend, nor fathom. The Elvish heart of Legolas sunk with dread, whilst Gimli’s Dwarven one brimmed with horror. The Hobbits’ filled with desolation, and the Dúnedain blood of Aragorn ran cold.

You had murdered Boromir in a way only a human could – bloody, brutal and cold. It was simply unnatural to the rest, and their lack of comprehension quickly frustrated you.

“He was going to kill Frodo,” you defended yourself, narrowing your gaze down at Gimli. “Was I supposed to just let him?”

“I don’t think you were supposed to do this,” Merry retorted, shaking his head in shock, whilst his eyes remained wide in disbelief. “None of us are…”

You started incredulously for a moment. Shifting your weight, you further narrowed your gaze, and bit back with an increasing tone.

“Do you think I had a choice?” you defensively asked.

“There’s always a choice,” Legolas rebutted, creasing his own brows.

That was the final straw for you. These beings, so high and mighty above your own human blood, were belittling you, for something only you could muster the strength to do.

“Well, I can’t do what you can, archer!” you snapped, raising your voice. “Nor can I do what Gimli does, or Aragorn, or even the Hobbits! I know you wouldn’t have done it – you probably would have just figured something out, correct?”

Though the question was aimed at all of them, Aragorn answered. Most by now had flinched in retreat, for the human before them ticked like a timebomb.

“I’d try to figure something out…” Aragorn mulled, with a voice ever-so tentative.

“Right! Because you’re Aragorn, the Dúnedain!” you barked again, now most definitely able to be heard over the rain, with a series of defensive hand gestures pointed at the soaked ground. “But not all of us can be Dúnedain, or Elves, or Hobbits, or Dwarves! Some of us have to make mistakes! Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes! Some of us are HUMAN!”

Your words intertwined with the harsh rain, as cold beads ran down your face, and past your enraged eyes. You stood as defensive as a cornered snake, which, in that moment, the six non-humans all considered your race to be.

“So, that means you had to kill him?” Gimli asked again in response, hardening his own tone. However, horror still ran deep along his inflection.

Flaring your nostrils in anger, your eyes burned brighter. They weren’t appreciative, and simply didn’t understand what it meant to be a human soldier. You weren’t raised in a cosy Hobbit-hole, nor an Elven palace or Dwarven mountain. You were raised in the army, and consequently, a killer.

“Yes, I had to kill him,” you tightly said at last.

With one last clench of your jaw, you leaned forwards, and lowly uttered a final response out.

“You’re welcome.”

With that, you moved back to the campfire, and began placing log after log onto the flames. And, just like only a human birthed from primeval men could do, you, and you alone, restored the fire.

Left standing in shock, the six beings all stared between one another. This was one cultural difference that didn’t quite sit well with them. However, the killing had been among the race of men – human to human. Who were they to inflict their differentiating ideologies onto you?

Pure humans were something entirely different, indeed, and none knew if they liked it that much.

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libradusk · 5 years ago

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Touch Starved | Ahsoka Tano

Word Count: 1,260

Pairing: Ahsoka Tano x Reader

Summary: The most vivid memories of your adolescence were stolen by violence and war, a chance reunion 14 years after the fall of the Jedi Order reignites what little hope still dribbles through you

warnings: some mention of blood and death that comes along with Order 66

Part of my Touch Starved miniseries

Chance, that's what it had all boiled down to at the end of it all, how you had survived the worst day of your short life - the worst day of the war.

If you had been with anyone else at the time, you would have been dead, cut down just like your master and the thousands of other Jedi who had all met their fate that horrific day. You had known it at the time through your stolen adolescence, and you certainly knew it now as a fugitive - the only birthright you had ever known now sentenced you for execution, the Empire’s mark for death forever branded on your very soul.

When you had stepped onto that Star Destroyer bridge alongside Ahsoka and Captain Rex, you could never have predicted that the rapid flash of hyperspace would soon double as a blurred countdown to your final moments as a Jedi.

Your assassination had been pre-written in blaster-fire and blood.

At the time you had been happy - drained in every way possible following the Siege of Mandalore, but undeniably overjoyed at being reunited with Ahsoka once more. You had even noted - despite your conscience deeming the thought ludicrously selfish for a Jedi - that you dared to feel whole again, now that your closest confidant and treasured ally had returned to fight at your side - to fight alongside all of you to finish the war for good.

If only you had listened to Maul’s final, desperate warning to you all.

From the moment that first gunshot had grazed your neck, everything else stumbled into slow motion behind it.

The burn that seared and cauterised across your flesh was incomparable to the pain of realising that the only world you had ever known now crumbled around you, that the same soldiers you had battled alongside - laughed, cried and mourned beside, were now either dead or trying to kill you too.

Your own, personal tragedy had unfurled its merciless bindings around you and cut you to pieces in the process.

Bile, adrenaline and unadulterated fear curled over each other for the entire time it took you to escape, threatening to overwhelm every one of your senses as you navigated the dungeon of corridors and airfields. Recalling the events even now caused your lungs to constrict and shrivel in your chest the exact way they had back then - there was no mercy spared for whether you were awake or sleeping, your memories remained tarnished all the same.

Everything finally came to a screeching stop the moment you stumbled from that stolen bomber and your knees collided with solid ground. Despite your freedom, you had felt anything but relief at the feeling of snow blanketing your blistered knees.

You could still smell the smoking remains of the Star Destroyer ship and the clones that had perished alongside it long after you had finished burying their bodies.

Only after you had placed down the last helmet and turned to face the haunting expression on Ahsoka’s face had your body finally allowed you to cry, your soul wrecked with confusion and grief that neither of you could truly answer.

She had held you then, despite your bloodied hands staining her cowl and the fact you knew she was just as broken as you were - she remained steadfast and let you crash against her, your only remaining warmth left across the whole galaxy.

Her own tears had burned hot with fury as they dripped onto your frost-bitten skin when she finally shattered alongside you.

She was torn from you too soon after that.

Or rather the Empire tore you from her.

Your throat had practically bled as their forces had ripped you away, ravaged raw with screams of protest and pleas for her to run, to continue to survive through it all.

The look drowning in those misty-blue eyes still tormented your dreams long after rebel forces had come to your rescue, as did the way she had grasped helplessly towards you as Rex had muffled her cries and dragged her out of view - to safety.

You had made peace then, that somewhere out amongst the stars, Ahsoka was still safe - still alive, even if she couldn’t be by your side anymore.

The thought had eased the hollowness in your heart, if only by the most minuscule amount.

That fateful night relit the fire in your stomach - despite the terror and loss of the only two people you had left in the world it brought alongside it. You stopped running, determined now more than ever to retake the peace that was stolen from you - from Ahsoka and Rex and everyone else who’s lives had been dictated and swallowed by the horrors of blood lust and power born from war.

You had vowed to honour that reignited mission when you had settled down to sleep amidst the threadbare sanctuary of the rebel base that night - and every night that followed thereafter.

You cannot break me further, I have nothing left for you to take from me.

I will stop you from forcing others to suffer as I have.

That skeleton of a mantra continued to guide your every action, to dictate your very survival for years, until at last it guided you to the crew of the Ghost and settled you amongst its rag-tag family of Rebels.

You never envisioned yourself ever reuniting with Ahsoka in your remaining lifetime - had not even dared dream of it. Instead you had always placated yourself with a fantasy wherein she was alive and well hidden in a remote pocket of the galaxy - untouchable and sparkling and happy.

In retrospect you should have known better than to pacify yourself with the lie that the ex-Jedi would ever be the type to ever cower away while others suffered in her stead. Your morals - your spirits - would also entwine you together. The two of you shared a destination that had been forever stitched across the stars, regardless of the path you each walked to reach it.

Jedi or not, the stars could only keep you apart for so long - no matter how excruciating the wait, the means or the time between.

Yet the moment she stood before you once more, older and taller and exhausted, but still as warm and beautiful a soul as you always knew her to be, you couldn’t help but crumble.

And so did she.

For a second the two of you reverted to the ghosts of those tear-stomped teenagers once more, torn apart and furious when you had already lost everything but each other, jaded and scarred by events far beyond your control.

But beneath the tears and anger and pain there was the Ahsoka you knew, the same Ahsoka that had offered you a chance to live - to keep on fighting despite the hell you had both been dragged through day after day.

The Togruta had all but melted into your embrace then, choking back relief that quivered over her shoulders as wide eyes and tentative hands had swarmed over your face, desperate to check that you were truly there, truly alive.

You wondered, if your tears seared against her skin with the same intensity that buzzed across your own as her fingers cradled your jaw - every nerve threaded tightly with a prickling intensity as your soul restitched itself with each touch of Ahsoka’s skin against your own.

It bordered on overwhelming in the most magical way.

For at long last, after so much sacrifice you had been blessed with the most wonderful chance reunion - no, miracle of them all.

#touch starved #star wars reader insert #star wars imagine #ahsoka x reader #ahsoka tano imagine #i had forgotten how much tumblr's tag system overwhelms me #ahsoka reader insert #star wars #rebels #mine #oh god i really hope this has formatted ok i have no idea what im doing #ahsoka is the best ok goodbye thank you!#ahsoka #ahsoka x you #ahsoka tano

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calboniferous · 3 years ago

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Duality

Even the light of life couldn’t escape death, regardless of how brightly it shone or how much it was needed. Watching the red stain spread across Qui-Gon’s tunics, Obi-Wan was painfully aware there were no exceptions in death. No mercy to the living. --- Pacific-rim inspired AU where Jedi can share minds through their force bonds. The synchronicity this gives them is legendary across the galaxy but the technique's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are One during the duel with Maul and the consequences come calling.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32274517

Chapter 1 - Torn

Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon didn’t think it would hurt this much. They didn’t know they could hurt this much.

They had been hurt while sharing minds before – it was unavoidable with the kinds of missions the Master-Padawan duo took – yet the burning agony they felt now was a unique agony.

A simple misstep.

A feint the master would only fall for one in a million times but when the chips of fate tumbled through the Force, chance played its hand.

The bloody light of the sabre sprouted from Qui-Gon’s back and Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon was set alight. The physical pain of the Padawan mirrored that of his Master as blazing-white agony seared their chest.

Deafened by the blood rushing in their ears, they sensed more than heard Obi-Wan’s hoarse cry.

The Sith curled his lips in a vicious grin over Qui-Gon’s shoulder, teeth crimson in the light of his blade. He tore his blade from Qui-Gon’s body and the Master hit the ground, sabre slipping from their grasp.

Synchronicity broken, the bond stretched and sparked as Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon’s perception warped out of alignment. One half was crumpled on the floor, the other half’s knuckles white with his grip on his ignited sabre.

Obi-Wan’s breaths came fast and ragged as they he struggled to blink the image of himself trapped behind the ray shield from his vision.

It was all he could do to ground himself in his own body as the turmoil of the bond threatening to sweep him under the churning storm of feelings-thoughts-senses. He trembled.

A sickening weightlessness bled through the connection and Obi-Wan was acquainted with the sensation of his Master’s tethers to life unspooling. There was a nauseating tug as each strand pulled free, like stitches dragged one-by-one from a wound. Unbinding. Letting the raw edges split open and that oh so precious lifeblood spill.

Master, stay with me!

Even as he doubled down on their bond, his grasp on the psychic storm slipped.

The Sith stepped over the still form and, with his sabre slagging metal as it dragged across the floor in his wake, pinned Obi-Wan with his yellow gaze.

Hunger and cruelty were written in every line of his stance and satisfaction hung from his shoulders in a dark shroud. How anyone could take such vile pleasure in death was incomprehensible to Obi-Wan.

True darkness was found in the way the Sith’s cut Qui-Gon’s life threads as surely as a god cuts the strings from their mortal puppets.

Curled on the floor, unmoving, Qui-Gon had never looked so lightless.

Shaking, the pain Obi-Wan felt indicated that his wounded half still clung to life.

Barely.

Time dragged onwards. The shields remained.

Qui-Gon’s broken remains slipped ever closer to the veil with every passing second. Once a soul crosses the event horizon, no tether to mortality, however strong it may be, can defy the draw of death.

It is the singularity warping the fabric of existence.

The end of all things and yet, it is that from which all things came.

Obi-Wan once heard it likened to the supermassive black hole at the centre of the galaxy when he was a junior padawan and he dreamt of bent starlight for weeks afterwards. The vacuum of space silencing the cosmic screams of stars torn asunder and devoured thread by glowing thread.

Even the light of life couldn’t escape death, regardless of how brightly it shone or how much it was needed.

Watching the red stain spread across Qui-Gon’s tunics, Obi-Wan was painfully aware there were no exceptions in death. No mercy to the living.

Azure blade singing in discordant harmony with Obi-Wan’s anguish, the lance of burning pain in his chest reminded him that he had to end this now. The ray shields opened and Obi-Wan leapt.

Unbalanced and heavy-handed, it was only the drilled muscle memory that kept Obi-Wan from following his Master’s fate then and there. The Sith had clearly anticipated this reaction and his vicious, satisfied grin showed it.

Red met blue with thundering force, blades screeching as they clashed, disengaged, and flashed to meet again.

He countered Obi-Wan’s wild strikes with equal ferocity but he had control that the padawan was blind to in that moment.

Giving ground, the enemy led the duel closer and closer to the edge of the platform with every exchange. Then, deflecting Obi-Wan’s slash to the side, the Sith kicked him square in the chest.

Obi-Wan slipped over the edge of the reactor platform, barely managing to catch a protrusion and save himself from the hungry drop. His sabre flickered out as it was lost to the depths below.

The echoed input from his Master was electric with fear as he watched Obi-Wan disappear from view. Relief flickered between them as they both felt the ache in Obi-Wan’s shoulders from the sharp stop, the muscles in his hands straining to hold on, and the sucking nothingness under his dangling legs.

Terror brought clarity and Obi-Wan felt the bond twist again – calling to him. He was the only half of their bond in motion, the only one who could fight. They couldn’t afford to be misaligned if Obi-Wan was to win.

We need balance.

Gritting his teeth against the mental static and disorientation, Obi-Wan dropped his last few shields around the bond and let his force signature meld with Qui-Gon’s.

They were lying on the floor. They were dangling over the reactor pit. Images and senses superimposed on top of each other as the halves eclipsed and became one.

The Sith paced above them, radiating triumph. He sneered down at Obi-Wan-and Qui-Gon then turned away, satisfied the Jedi’s end was imminent.

The Jedi, however, seized the opening and leapt. Bolstered by the Force and the strength lent from their wounded half, they flipped over the Sith, summoning the Master’s blade to hand midair.

Their strike was in motion before their feet hit the floor and in one swift flash of blinding green light, cut the Sith in two. A textbook sai tok.

A move shunned by Jedi teachings but they had no time for kindness.

The enemy’s face twisted in shock and rage as he tumbled into the abyss; bisected pieces eagerly swallowed by the darkness.

In the heartbeat after victory, Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon felt the lurch of weightlessness in freefall as Qui-Gon’s last tether stretched beyond its limit and snapped.

The hilt falls from their grasp as they run to their fallen half and crash to their knees at their side.

Simultaneously holding and being held, their injured bodies ached with the strength of their embrace. Though physically impossible, Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon couldn’t help but try to unite their vessels as they had their minds. Blurred with pain and confusion, they could only cling to themself and seek refuge in the Force that allowed them this Oneness.

Unlike their mind, their bodies had no safe harbour to share.

Trembling, the adrenaline coursing through them rendered the world around them in abrasive clarity—durasteel floor bitingly cold under them and their tunics far too red. The metallic taste of blood filled their senses as Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon gasped for air and a wet warmth seeped through the hands desperately putting pressure on the wound.

A cry broke from them as the bond between them fractured. They could only hold on. Charred fabric clenched in stiff fingers as their breathless pleas to the Force went unheard.

With bruising gentleness, they pressed their foreheads together as if it would ease the mental strain. As if holding that much tighter would let the Padawan carry the weight of both minds with naught but the mortal tethers of one person.

Their limbs were too weak to hold their pieces together, too weak to let go.

A thought flickered through their mind from the part of them that is the Master alone.

Oh Padawan, you challenge gravity for me.

Eyes closed. Eyes wide open. Tears that are not their own dampened their cheeks.

Stay as One.

Pressure mounted as the bond stretched even further, wound beyond breaking point and yet remaining. Something about this impossibility reminded them of someone else.

Anakin.

He must be trained.

They will train him. They promised.

We- You must.

I…?

Obi-Wan��train him…

They did not understand, confusion and panic blooming in them as the body in their arms became leaden.

We’re right here, stay here.

They pleaded but gravity was merciless.

There was a soft sigh as Qui-Gon fell still. For a fleeting moment, they felt peace in the quiet around them before the force ripped and Obi-Wan-and-Qui-Gon ceased to exist.

Obi-wan-and-

-and-

There was only pain.

Obi-Wan knew why the stars screamed.

#fic #my writing #force bond drift AU #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #padme amidala #star wars #tpm #repost

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thoughtsofawaterlily · 5 years ago

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Sworn Oaths

Starter RP Thread - Jae x Yeo, Historical AU

Starter for @wangqyeo

Darkness. Pitch black darkness surrounded Jae - she wasn't scared of it, she half welcomed it even. But there was a small voice inside of her that told her repeatedly to not forget a certain something. She could hear the voice growing clearer and then fainter - She had to remember this no matter what happened to her. She had to live on, she could not forget. She could not give in. She was so curious; so numb. She could have just given in, it all felt so easy in that dreamlike state. Just as she was slipping beyond the point of no return, she heard the whispers, of events that just transpired barely an hour ago, reverberating through her entire consciousness.

"Should we spare her..?" a hesitant voice had come from one of the two assassins that looked down to the woman lying on the ground. "Spare no one. Those are our orders." he replied coldly, in a merciless voice. The woman was dressed in silk,and her hair bore a pin that confirmed that she was the eldest miss of the Yong family. The woman on the ground was shaking, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing she was scared. "You men will receive heavenly retribution for this-" the woman seethed, as she glared up at the two men masked in black. The two assassins exchanged glances before making up their mind. Whatever hesitation the had instantly vanished, before they made clean work of the woman in front of them with their dagger, before she could even finish her sentence. The body fell on the floor with a thud... but before it happened, the woman's eyes fleetingly glanced in worry at the corner of the room where there was a hidden trapdoor, unseen by the assassins.

Jae stuffed her fist into her mouth from crying out loud in horror, her eyes wide, her face shockingly pale, trembling and drenched with sweat as she saw her closest attendant and friend Mina lying on the ground motionless. The second assassin watched the body once, before saying "That's the last one. Let's head back. He will be waiting." And then the figures disappeared. Jae sat there in horror, like she was re-living her worst nightmare. She barely realized when she stepped out and walked away from her friend who pushed her to safety and took her identity and ended up sacrificed herself. As she stepped out the room to the corridor, she saw men and women lying on the ground with wide eyes in surprise.. eyes that had looked at her cheerfully and dotingly every single day. She hardly realize that as she staggered towards her parents room, that her tears were flowing down from her phoenix eyes. When she finally reached her parents room, the sight almost made her collapse to the floor. Her mind became numb in disbelief as she stared at a dagger at the elderly man's side, stab wounds evident on them.

She held out her pale hands to touch the cold cheeks of her mother and father, and cried out a loud, heartbreaking note...

But this slightest sound alerted one of the last assassins who was about to leave. He immediately rushed back to check the rooms of where the voice originated from. Jae was startled as every pore on her skin sensed danger.

I must survive..

I must take revenge..

she thought, her brain still muddled in shock as none of this sunk in. She shakily took the dagger which was the evidence, before hiding as best as she can under the bed, just in time for when the assassin barged in. His gaze swooped through the room once and decided that no one was there, before he left, again. Jae clasped the dagger tightly in her hands, as her heart started beating wildly. She must escape.. once they realize.. they would come back for her!

She couldn't stay here a moment longer. Collecting herself, she had run, in the middle of the night, barefoot, dressed in Mina's maid clothes. The only thing she had left on her body that was proof that she was the left minister's daughter was a single intricately carved jade pendant hanging on her neck. She ran as fast as she could, but she remembered accidentally slipping and the feeling of falling from a height.. Her head felt like it had received a tremendous blow. She felt like at a distance.. a shadow would most likely follow her.. they would be coming for her and will kill her too.

"Mother.. Father.. I am sorry I couldn't join you. This ungrateful daughter will surely take revenge for you. I swear on my life." she mumbled, as a tear slipped out from her eyes, as all her emotions became numb and unbearable.

And that was the last memory she held on to subconsciously, before she gave in to the darkness.

By the base of a cliff, a petite outline of a person could be seen by the rocks. Her long dark hair splayed haggardly on the floor, matted by blood. Even as she lay unconscious, her breathing getting more shallow by the minute, her hands still held onto her dagger tightly, one with a bright opal encrusted by its hilt.

That night, the thunder rumbled, and rain splattered without mercy upon the bodies that lay on the floor in the left minister's home, creating rivulets of blood that soaked the ground. Not one soul - servant or noble was spared. The imperial city would reel in shock and scandal the very next day, realizing how the there was no longer balance in the factions. With the left minister dead, the right minister now had total control. There would be a major change in power soon. The question still remained- who would dare to commit such an atrocity right under the emperor's nose?

#wangqyeo thoughtsofawaterlily Historical AU RP SwornOaths #Roleplay

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romera-rp · 5 years ago

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Conflict and resentment simmered on all sides after months of bitter stalemate and ceasefire. In the wee hours of the morning on February 6th, a massive fleet of ships appeared on Arx’s horizon. As the sun rose higher, the dawn revealed the dreadful colors of Queen Ivana of Kaivras. The few fisherman out on open water were the first witnesses of her assault, her flags raised high like the blade of a guillotine. Ivana’s navy was always the strongest of the four nations and little could have prepared Arx for just how immense those numbers were. The ships set upon them mere hours later, cannons primed and swords drawn and itching for violence. Despite her withdrawal from Llyn, it is now clear that Ivana has her sights set on much larger targets. Arx being the biggest port Hegaehend has to offer and one of its greatest wellsprings of education is one such target. Even if she is unsuccessful in taking Arx for good, the staggering blow to Hegaehend and her brother, King Rolland II, will never be forgotten.

IN CHARACTER DETAILS

This event will take place between February 6th to February 29th 3509 AT and your threads may take place at any point during those in-game days.

TIMELINE

THE MORNING OF (February 6th) The attack comes without warning and there were few soldiers stationed in Arx. Many were kept on the land borders where skirmishes are more likely. The local government has no choice but to surrender to the overwhelming number of Ivana’s forces. The nobility and wealthy merchants of the city held a max exodus just before Ivana’s ships reached port, but most ordinary citizens, without funds or resources to flee, are left to fend for themselves. The invaders are quick to take control of the city borders and lock them down.

THE DAYS FOLLOWING (February 7th to 10th) The invasion of Arx was a brutal show of force and power. Mere months ago there were joyous celebrations in the streets and raucous festivals, but now there are numerous bodies of those who tried to fight back against Ivana’s soldiers. Where sweet wine was once spilled in merriment, there is now fresh blood. Without mercy, her men fired into the port, targeting what few military vessels were stationed there first. Buildings in the Pearl Plaza are set aflame, the last merchant boats in Whale Water Port are looted and sunk. The last bastion of resistance, The Siang Institute of Circumstance, has closed its doors as acolytes and scholars try to hold out against the forces that threaten to overwhelm them. Some citizens have taken to hiding behind the walls of the University and Archives, but it is only a matter of time before they are overrun. The citizens left out, unprotected, band together in their homes, waiting and hoping for relief.

A KING’S RESPONSE (February 11th to February 15th) King Rolland delivers a swift response and moves his attention away from the border with Kaivras where most battles have taken place prior to this attack. He sends his forces towards Arx across land and sea. His few other military vessels race towards the conflict. The city will be difficult to recapture, and it has been suggested by some council members that it may be easier to infiltrate the city in small numbers before the full force of Rolland’s army arrives. It is with this in mind that any seeking to gain access to Arx are advised to be extremely cautious. Ivana’s soldiers are everywhere and they are merciless. It has been emphasized that Ivana takes no prisoners.

THE BATTLE FOR ARX (February 16th to February 20th) The city of Arx, razed nearly to the ground and trampled below the feet of Ivana, is awash with new conflict. When the primary mass of King Rolland’s forces arrive, aided by the brave few who had infiltrated the city borders previously, a brutal and bitter battle ensues. Within a week, the chokehold that Ivana’s forces held on movement in and out of the city is broken. Citizens desperate to flee the prison of the city are finally provided a way out, but it also brings further chaos to the streets of Arx as the battle is brought within city limits.

BITTER VICTORY (February 21st to February 28th) After weeks of terror, bloodshed, and brutality, King Rolland’s forces are able to push Ivana’s thugs back. Both sides suffered heavy casualties, but no pain or loss is felt more strongly than those native to Arx. Homes are destroyed and ransacked, businesses gutted, and too many lives have been cut short. As the last glimmer of Ivana’s retreating forces flicker and disappear back over the horizon from where they came, there is a feeling in the air not of a battle hard won, but of having been taunted. Ivana’s soldiers were near gleeful to leave the smoldering, trampled remnants of Arx. They’d had their fun, it seemed. The message is clear: Ivana will chip away at Hagaegend’s defenses until there is nothing left.

WHAT REMAINS (February 29th) While most of Arx has been destroyed, there are still some of its people that remain. The Siang Institute of Circumstance still stands, battered but whole, its contents protected. Council member Isidora Siang has opened the campus to victims of the attack and Rolland’s forces have set up medical tents and temporary housing for those who survived the brutality. There are those who wander the streets trying to salvage what remains from the rubble, searching for survivors and salvageable goods, and in the following weeks there will be a concentrated rebuilding effort. For now, however, the city of Arx is cloaked in a heavy shadow of grief. The buildings are little more than rubble and so are the people of Arx. For now, at least.

OOC DETAILS

This event will last from February 6th to February 29th. Feel free to have your character react to the news of this attack in any way you see fit. As always, feel free to continue non-event related threads throughout.

The news will have spread very quickly across Hegaehend and has created panic and dread in each of its inhabitants. Many will be wondering if their city, their town, or their forgotten village will be next.

You are also more than welcome to have your character be present for the initial attack or the following days of fallout, though be aware that normal life in Arx has come screeching to a halt and if your character chooses to fight within the city, they would likely quickly become overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Ivana’s forces if not done tactfully.

The worldbuilding post for Arx can be found here.

Any soldiers your character might encounter will have this stat block.

THREAD IDEAS

When the fighting started, you were there. Did you choose to fight, to help others, or did you flee? Who was with you in that moment of chaos? Loved ones, strangers, and enemies were equal in the eyes of Ivana’s soldiers that day.

When the city was taken, many became trapped, but one or two people might be able to slip through the cracks to find an escape route for survivors. They must be quiet or willing to cut down Ivana’s soldiers.

In an attempt to flee, or escape after the capture, you’re getting pursued through the crumbling streets by ruthless soldiers. Better find a place to hide or fight back.

The Siang Institute of Circumstance and its University and Archives are the crown jewel of Arx. You find yourself either voluntarily or involuntarily locked within its walls with the other survivors.

Ivana’s ships are numerous, but as her soldiers sack the city, that leaves them at port. The anchored ships of Ivana are awfully vulnerable aren’t they? They surely won’t mind a few cut-free anchors or torched sails. Will you risk your chance at escape for some revenge?

You aren’t in Arx when the news spreads of its fate. Instead of a visceral experience, the battle taking place is out of your reach unless you decide to intervene. How do you react to news of yet another disaster? Does the King’s response satisfy you?

Was one of your loved ones inside Arx at the time of the attack? Maybe you’ve come to see if they’ve survived.

Perhaps you were too late. The dust has settled, the enemies have left laughing, and you’ve arrived to survey the shattered pieces of a once proud city.

#romevent #blood in the water #magic rp #dnd roleplay #established roleplay

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wammys-house-a · 6 years ago

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Page 257 – Dear Truth;

Woke at 5:36. It almost feels like spring.

I put on tight black gloves and see the perfect obsidian contrast with my skins muted hues of living cream, blue lines, and salmon furrows and think to myself … how disgusting and sorrowful it is, someone else’s inked hide. It’s surface barely holds the chill of winter that still hangs in the atmosphere, nothing beneath the surface to warm it.

The tag inside is faded a sickly gold.

It reads g e n u i n e. India.

The threads are loosely stitched inside at the wrists where my pulse would thrum against the seam and itch. Death’s caress.

I pull the knife from my boot,

the usual affirmation of my boyishness isn’t there,

I’ve forgotten to be who I’m trying to be.

I hesitate.

— Not because it’s not in me to free this remnant of their body from my wardrobe but because I know their parts would out last their natural life, even if it had not been cut short.

Does that matter?

Would I want someone wearing me, if it kept them warm or made them feel better to hide their bony fingers?

Would it matter if it was a stranger? Would it matter if I only had the capacity of a child and no appreciation of a greater purpose? Would it matter if I had no choice? What if I had no autonomy, if I was helpless and had done nothing wrong, if it was merciless and my want for integrity didn’t matter because I didn’t matter ?

Would it matter then?

I cut the thread.

I buried the pieces of Stranger in the flower bed.

The earth was as black as ink but intermingled are white specks of perlite, decaying wood chips, crawling life surfacing and slipping back into the earth like dolphins traveling in the surf.

The soil holds the chill of the atmosphere, but it is so terribly alive.

____ 1 1 : 2 1

Today; the evaluation.

Passing was within B’s capacity, it must be in mine. They’re not looking for h e a l t h y , they are looking for proof that this experiment is working.

I wasn’t dishonest, I don’t need to be when B would outshine any of my perceived pathologies. I’m mundane, when the next patient in line has smeared the ashes of a candle’s wick under his eyes and pretends he doesn’t smell like cheap vanilla.

Their psychiatrist wanted to know if I feel confident in my abilities, if I feel challenged, if I feel aligned with my identity,

I’m fine.

But, I struggle with communicating my feelings.

I get mealy mouthed, distracted by my own self awareness; how I must sound, what they’re thinking, I begin to second guess the value of my words – if what I say is even necessary to hear; I watch their face for reaction.

—– Does the open, unthinking stare mean they too are wondering what my intentions are in speaking?

The psychiatrist recommended I try writing those thoughts out, make them more tangible and give it form that I can fully grasp. He said it would give me enough time to think, shorten the rattling preamble, eliminate the urgency to get to the point that leaves me stumbling trying to reach it in nervous haste.

They suggested writing what I thought out, like a letter to a person to never send .

I said I would try it.

Dear G o d ,

It took six months for the freshness of it to wear off, and people began to reassure me that the loss of my family was part of a g r e a t e r plan. Like an event meant to shape me, turn me into someone that the world needed -- my sacrificial metamorphosis, cocoons from coffins.

There had to be something to salvage from it, I only needed to keep looking. They were somehow a lesson I didn’t understand, but I would in time.

That only left me asking, why did they have to be my lesson?

That’s not fair.

What lesson was worth two lives?

They didn’t deserve that.

But, that was before.

I know better now.

I no longer ask questions like ‘why did they have to be my lesson’. -- How can anyone believe in God’s plan if they know there are thousands of starving children, born to parents that did not want them, that cannot not feed them.

--- How can anyone concluded that a just God gifts life to children only to doom them to death by starvation in infancy?

Where is God’s plan when mothers mutilate their children because culture supersedes their logic?

-- When there are Children trapped in concrete debris in the aftermath of storms, their minds so choked on sepsis, they hallucinate running late to class in their last lucid moments of consciousness?

-- Or when innocent creatures wander into mud lands to become trapped and eaten alive by predators that pull their ears from their bellowing bodies .. ?

-- Or when humans throw them into pits to be set on fire as a preemptive measure against disease -- denied a sorrowful destiny as captives born into this world to decorate the plates of those too cowardly to look-them-in-the-face-as-they-die-with-the-slack-jawed,-stunned-gazes-that-ask;

‘ how did it come to this ? ’

It was a stupid question to ask.

There are no lessons worth the cost of children’s innocence, or the empty gazes of dead friends where faith goes to die, or any thing to learn from the dyed hides of strangers that didn’t deserve it.

The truth is, I don’t deserve the comfort I have,

there is nothing so special about me that I couldn’t have been one of those that you forgot to b l e s s with the tiny mercy of dying in their sleep.

This isn’t survivors guilt. There is too much pain in this world for me to ask, why I live and others die ; to ask that would be to acknowledge that this system isn’t senseless, it is e v i l .

I suppose I was right, wondering if anything coming from my mouth is even necessary to hear.

-- What good do I expect you knowing all this will do?

Maybe I have thinly veiled this behind Dear God so it doesn’t feel so egocentric. I’m speaking with myself, there’s something I want him to understand.

I want him to know there’s being savagely honest with one’s self is liberating.

When you’re honest, the truth doesn’t hide in your chest like sleeping disease.

Truth is terrifying, but living in ignorance has never exempted me from living in a world where these truths exist, closing my eyes will not make it cease to be.

I don’t want to be a person that can only see myself as benevolent through self-serving assurance and questions remained unasked.

I want to see the world clearly, so I can find where injustice lives and bring it to an end.

God, I can’t wait on you, I have never had eternity.

#Death Note #a (death note)#death note a #wammys house #entries

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sasorikigai · 5 years ago

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Random Headcanon Discourse || @paindealt || accepting

THAT is the misconception I hate the most about Kuai Liang that derives from what Cetrion comments about him having ‘a cold heart,’ and other portrayals that convey him as unemotional. I am going to focus on Kuai Liang’s relationships, because I think his emotions exhibit a lot of his ‘emotional tendencies’ through such tender, yet traumatic suffering he’d gone through so many times. If you look at the history of the Lin Kuei, the Lin Kuei clan saw friendship as weakness, it was even forbidden (trust was only given to the group) and such I think this assassins clan wouldn’t approve such strong discharge of emotions, because it was constituted as weakness. Along with Bi-Han, he was abducted by unknown people and then trained by them to be skilled killers. They didn’t have choice (and wanting to leave or worse, running from the clan was equivalent to treason punished by death), they were forced to endure all murderous trainings and to adjust to the new life as Lin Kuei warriors.

Of course, I can’t be sure about it, but I think their superiors tried to do something about their brotherly bond - it was warrior’s flaw, weakness and thus it make sense they would want to eliminate it as fast as it was possible (Lin Kuei’s dislike for friendship/affection is one of reason why the clan changed its members in cyborgs, including younger Sub-Zero). Still, Kuai Liang openly showed he cares for Bi-Han - didn’t even bother to hide fact he seeks revenge for his fallen brother (not one of fallen Lin Kuei warrior. For brother. First for his family, then for clan) and let’s not forget he was most likely the only one showing a glimpse of guilt and remorse against the news of Hanzo’s death in MK11. Even with Frost, Kuai Liang is known to have shown so much sympathy and understanding, being too soft and tender with her, while he could have been more disciplined towards his star pupil. Hanzo even criticizes him for it. Indeed, he does have soft spot and emotions that pertain to any deep relationship he commits himself towards.

And frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if this visible affection was a reason why Lin Kuei changed him in cyborg by force so quickly. After so many years, Kuai still was… emotional in such open way. I think that Kuai Liang always has been, by nature friendly and good man (look how he acts as adult. He made peace with Scorpion, changed his clan from assassins working from time to time for villains into protectors of Earthrealm… sometimes I’m not sure if he is that idealistic or that naive - I write him as an INFJ, who is exceedingly an idealist), so the training could be really awful for him; being taken away from safe home and for years forced not only to painful physical exercises but also to mental and emotional changes (from small, helpless child to an experienced killer) could break anyone.

Yet, he still has faith in concepts like building friendship, relationships - though he does not like to admit it - and brotherhood. There is something about it… It feels for me like after such drastic events in his life, there is still… childish naivety in him that causes his eyes to spill so much emotion, despite him coming across as stoic and indifferent. Kuai Liang was trained to be assassin (and who knows how many people he killed before Mortal Kombat Tournament?), yet he believed in his clan’s (assassin’s) honor. He was affected by brotherly bond with Bi-Han and friendship with Smoke. He showed mercy to the enemy. No wonder that his superiors thought about him as flawed. And it brings me to the question, how he managed to preserve so much naivety kindness in his own soul, when from so young age he was trained to be merciless killing machine loyal only to clan not to single individuals?

TL:DR; My portrayal of Kuai Liang/Sub-Zero will always be good-hearted and genial, unless someone is inherently EVIL, and he will be an emotional cryomancer, despite coming off as indifferent and unemotional at the beginning. His interactions with Bi-Han, Smoke and Frost has exemplified my point and I will continue to explore this further in my threads.

#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ bone-deep chill of despair (sub-zero)#(this got needlessly ramply but here we go)#paindealt

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blackrose-ffxiv · 6 years ago

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A Few Threads

[ Following the events of this incident ]

Lavender scented steam rose in lazy clouds from water turned milky by the sheer amount of additives mixed into it, helping to disguise the dirt and dust of the desert that was slowly being soaked out of sunburned skin. Long arms were folded on the edge of the elegant tub and a cheek rested atop a forearm, ignoring the sting as reddened skin was irritated by the contact. Pale Ishgardians and merciless Thanalan sun didn’t mix well in the best of conditions, nevermind for such extended amounts of time. The burns hurt… but so did everything else. He ached. From feet blistered thanks to walking across the plains barefoot to the tips of his peeling ears and everything in between. Those aches he knew. It was another sort that was causing him the greatest discomfort.

The rich steam thinned to languid curls as the water slowly cooled and it was only then that the elezen shifted slightly, the only indication that he hadn’t simply fallen asleep in the bath. Dark lashes lifted just far enough to stare down at the floor beside the tub’s curving legs. There ragged red robe turned almost pink from sun and dust was crumpled, discarded in a messy pile in the medic’s hurry to get it off of him. The mere sight of it caused long fingers to curl in anger and shame, pressing into a fist so tight that broken nails pushed half-moon indentations into the elezen’s palms.

Elio had betrayed him. Sweet, stupid Elio had a hand in all of this. Lebeaux had made the mistake of underestimating the boy, assuming he was still the well-meaning but easily influenced sap he had always been. That was true, save for the fact that he was no longer bending to Lebeaux’s whims. He had overestimated his own influence. The naïve little coward had been swayed by this cult of heretics in his moment of weakness and allowed himself to be dragged down to the depths of their depravity… to the point he would offer up his friend to their rituals of madness. The elezen shifted slowly, running his tongue over chapped and cracked lips as he reached for the red robe. He held it gingerly between fingers, lifting it from the floor as he inspected it more closely.

His grip tightened on the roughspun fabric, jagged edges of broken nails digging into the cloth until a few threads began to give out with a succession of satisfying snaps. Rips starting out small then slowly spreading into tears as he began to shred the robe yank by satisfying yank. He had been soft on Elio, ignoring the obvious signs out of some misguided sense of… what was it… sympathy? Pity? He had allowed that weakness to fester unchecked right in front of him, thinking it a mercy. How many others around him were infected with that same sort of cowardice. How many sins had he turned a blind eye to for the sake of having others near.

Ragged scraps of red cloth fell to the ground as Lebeaux continued to tear with single-minded determination. He spoke often of his convictions, yet where had they been when he was faced with such an affront to his beliefs. He always said all he did he did for Halone’s sake. Steps on a winding path to bring salvation to Ishgard’s lost. Perhaps it was time to stop being content with that all of the meandering turns and to begin to make his own path. To cut a trail straight to the heart of the matter and excise the sickness he would surely find there. Dark brows had furrowed in anger, teeth clenched so hard he could taste a hint of blood on his tongue as he neared the end of the robe. Stained crystal windows rattled gently in their frames and wilting lilies shifted in an unfelt breeze.

The last shred of tattered fabric fell from his fingers to join the pile on the bathroom floor as his expression softened to a saintly smile that brought small drops of crimson welling to cracks in his lips. Still silence fell over the small apartment once again. He knew just where to begin. A few threads would need to be cut, whether it was the cheap cloth of a cultist’s robe or the opaque veil that had fallen over the Holy See to blind them from the truth, a few threads… then the rest could be torn easily asunder.

The elezen slowly pried himself out of the cooling water and pressed a hand against his chest, fingers pressing into skin as though holding a broken rib in place. Maybe… once he had torn away the lies that blinded the wayward sons and daughters of Halone he could find peace. Every last one of them, including Elio. Even if he couldn’t save their miserable lives he could surely save their souls. Maybe then the ache would cease.

@grey-lotus-ffxiv

#lebeaux #elio #aftermath as promised

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glittergummicandypeach · 4 years ago

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What religion, according to Nick Cave, is the “unhappiest in the world”?

No one does unhappy like Nick Cave. Nick Cave was born to do unhappy.

The Australian musician has built a career exploring the dark and deadly things of life, and has had his fair share of misery, not least of all the tragic death of one of his twin teenage sons a few years ago after a cliff fall in the UK town of Brighton. The tragedy forced Cave, his wife and remaining son to leave the town and relocate to the US because they could not bear to be near the site.

Yet I remember a time when strait-laced types didn’t want him coming back into this country – his country of birth – because of his terrible dark and unhappy musical reputation; his lyrics that smelt of death and sex and religious incense. No place for that here. No place for nuance.

But no one does deep emotion, and deep religious emotion like Nick Cave does. Have a listen to his latest beautiful album Ghosteen, and hear and feel the sound of lament that oozes from it. Its title is a play on the word “ghost” and “teen” and it’s not hard to see where it’s coming from. It’s a stunning and honest piece of art.

So it’s worth listening to Nick Cave when he talks about unhappiness because he knows it deep down in his soul. He recognises it because he’s lived with it, seen it kill things he loves. It’s occupied a place in his house, always somewhere in the next room or down the hall. He can sniff it out.

So when Nick Cave declares what the unhappiest religion in the world is, you might want to take him seriously. He’s the unhappy expert after all. And what is the unhappiest religion in the world according to Nick Cave? Well here he is answering a question on his blog The Red Hand Files:

As far as I can see, cancel culture is mercy’s antithesis. Political correctness has grown to become the unhappiest religion in the world. Its once honourable attempt to reimagine our society in a more equitable way now embodies all the worst aspects that religion has to offer (and none of the beauty) — moral certainty and self-righteousness shorn even of the capacity for redemption. It has become quite literally, bad religion run amuck.

Cave had been asked the question: “What do you think of cancel culture?” and this was part of his response. But it’s instructive that he didn’t begin with the bad, the angry, the vehement. He began with the beauty. He began his answer with describing the presence of something that is markedly absent from the cancel culture:

Listen to the artist and his words:

Mercy is a value that should be at the heart of any functioning and tolerant society. Mercy ultimately acknowledges that we are all imperfect and in doing so allows us the oxygen to breathe — to feel protected within a society, through our mutual fallibility. Without mercy a society loses its soul, and devours itself.

Mercy allows us the ability to engage openly in free-ranging conversation — an expansion of collective discovery toward a common good. If mercy is our guide we have a safety net of mutual consideration, and we can, to quote Oscar Wilde, “play gracefully with ideas.”

Yet mercy is not a given. It is a value we must nurture and aspire to. Tolerance allows the spirit of enquiry the confidence to roam freely, to make mistakes, to self-correct, to be bold, to dare to doubt and in the process to chance upon new and more advanced ideas. Without mercy society grows inflexible, fearful, vindictive and humourless.

Nails it. Totally nails it.

Cave, along with the likes of Douglas Murray in The Madness of Crowds and Tom Holland in Dominion, can see as unbelievers, what many of us cannot see, or at least cannot articulate. That the absence of mercy in the current zealotry in our progressive post-Christian culture is going to lead to great ugliness.

All three of these men can see that mercy is not a given. Not a given. It is not somehow in the ether of the world. It had to be brought to the world from outside the world, and all three, in some way or another, recognise that the Christian framework gave mercy to the merciless world.

We are seeing this ugly lack of mercy being played out in all sorts of ways in cancel culture. There is no redemption, even for those who were once its champions, but have themselves fallen afoul.

They can apologise and apologise and apologise, because in their deep heart they think there will be a point where this thing will bottom out and the chance of restoration will be given them. But cancel culture and its mutilated offspring are having none of it. There is no mercy safety net in a post-Christian culture. Plenty of zeal, but no mercy, and the wise Cave man can see it from afar, as all prophetic poets can.

And it’s the poet in Cave that most laments this:

Cancel culture’s refusal to engage with uncomfortable ideas has an asphyxiating effect on the creative soul of a society. Compassion is the primary experience — the heart event — out of which emerges the genius and generosity of the imagination.

Here’s what we’re going to get with cancel culture: an interminable dullness. A dreary conformity in which the cultural gloryometer will be run over every public piece of art, or declaration or attempt at greatness to see if it conforms to the great grey globule of group-think that was crafted in some neon-lit government office. And then, and only then, will we be allowed to engage with it, if we can even be bothered.

Which should all mean that the happiest religion in the world should be the religion that is most at home around mercy, compassion and forgiveness. The happy people should be those who having received mercy, compassion and forgiveness, should offer mercy, compassion and forgiveness. And do so in the midst of a culture of unhappiness and hatred. It should also mean those people should be the most creative too!

Cave’s article even made it into the pages of The Guardian newspaper, while you can read the rest of the blog article here.

To finish, have a listen to this heart-rending song Sun Forest from the Ghosteen album, and these lyrics in particular. What will we find? An unhappy man? A bitter man? A cancel culture man who knows no mercy and sees no need to offer it?

No, we see and hear a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, who recognises those things in another man also.

And a man called Jesus, he promised he would leave us With a word that would light up the night, oh the night But the stars hang from threads and blink off one by one And it isn’t any fun, no it isn’t any fun To be standing here alone with nowhere to be With a man mad with grief and on each side a thief Everybody hanging from a tree, from a tree And everybody hanging from a tree

This content was originally published here.

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dazzledbybooks · 4 years ago

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. Kings become outcasts and lovers become foes in the thrilling sequel to Margaret Owen's The Merciful Crow As the new chieftain of the Crows, Fie knows better than to expect a royal to keep his word. Still she’s hopeful that Prince Jasimir will fulfill his oath to protect her fellow Crows. But then black smoke fills the sky, signaling the death of King Surimir and the beginning of Queen Rhusana's merciless bid for the throne.With the witch queen using the deadly plague to unite the nation of Sabor against Crows—and add numbers to her monstrous army—Fie and her band are forced to go into hiding, leaving the country to be ravaged by the plague. However, they’re all running out of time before the Crows starve in exile and Sabor is lost forever.A desperate Fie calls on old allies to help take Rhusana down from within her own walls. But inside the royal palace, the only difference between a conqueror and a thief is an army. To survive, Fie must unravel not only Rhusana’s plot, but ancient secrets of the Crows—secrets that could save her people, or set the world ablaze. Review: The Faithless Hawk by Margaret Owen had everything that I was expecting. I love this book. I actually just started the audio to do another read through. First thing, the book stars off a little slow so please stick with it because it gets better and picks up pace. Second if you don't remember the events in The Merciful Crow, then you may want to go back and read it or at the very least catch up in the last few chapters. This pretty much stars where that one left off. You really get to see how Fie had adapted to being in charge and how much stronger of a characters she is. I think she really finds out what she is capable of in this book. I still really love her sass and attitude. It is one of the things that really made me love Fie right away. The world building was definitely something else in this book. I feel like Owen took her world to a whole new level. I thought things were explained so much better and she built so much more on to the world she had already created. I think Owen did a fabulous job. She made the book so interesting with her caste system and how the birthright worked. I am so excited for all of you to read this book. It definitely lived up to my expectations of a sequel. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. About the Author: Born and raised at the end of the Oregon Trail, Margaret Owen spent her childhood haunting the halls of Powell’s Books. After earning her degree in Japanese, her love of espresso called her north to Seattle, where she worked in everything from thrift stores to presidential campaigns. The common thread between every job can be summed up as: lessons were learned.She now spends her days wrestling disgruntled characters onto the page, and negotiating a long-term hostage situation with her two monstrous cats. (There is surprisingly little difference between the two.)

http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2020/08/the-faithless-hawk-blog-tour.html

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reylofanfictionanthology · 4 years ago

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TO FIND YOUR KISS - AUTHOR REVEALS!

Here are your authors for this year’s exchange!

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars by XarisEirene for abbytheatre08

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained by LittleLostStar for AlwaysEverlark

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart by strangeallure for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions by SpaceWaffleHouseTM for Andrina_Nightshade

- The Dyad by Lady_of_Haven for aneighthdomain

- The Delegation by Vivien for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains by shipperofdarkness for AnneAnna

Saudade (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"

In those first few weeks, everything had been muddled in a haze as the Resistance tried to rebuild all that had been lost. Rey had buried herself in the work. It’s what she’d always done. Don’t think of your parents, don’t think of waiting, scavenge and repeat.

But it’s different.

Her parents hadn’t wanted her.

He had.

Her parents hadn’t loved her.

He had.

And in his wake, the wound had split Rey’s soul to the bone, like the scar she’d given him all those moons ago. It's a blessing. And a curse. And all she has left. It’s the love that remains.

- i don't want you like a best friend by irridesca for anopendoor

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness by crossingwinter for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) by thehobbem for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In by darlingreadsalot for Blueyedgurl

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras by Andrina_Nightshade for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul by Reykenobi68 for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands by literallynoonecares for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night by firelord65 for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance by darknessvisible for Crysania

- Awake by QueenOfCarrotFlowers for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it by politicalmamaduck for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale by Crysania for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- The Canvas of Your Skin by tearoomsaloon for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) by DarkMage13for DoorKeeper9

“W-What are you doing?” She would have been more irritated if she wasn’t shivering.

Kylo rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to let hypothermia kill you.”

“S-Stripping me is not going to kill me? That makes n-no sense.”

Rey needs a kyber crystal and Kylo is trying to prevent her from getting into more life-threatening situations. It's definitely not because he cares about her. Nope.

- Fleeing the Storm by Padawan_Writer for driverfever

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure by misszeldasayre for dustoftheancients

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability by MissCoppelia for Evangel10n

- Splatter by DoorKeeper9 for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror by AlwaysEverlark for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary by OccasionallyCreative for firelord65

- and they danced across the sky by chagrins for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer by Cat2000 for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable by maq_moon for HopeRebel

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh by okpianist for irridesca

- and they were roommates by myownlittleinfinity for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) by bittersnake for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- 3 Days in Vienna by anopendoor for Like_A_Dove

- If You Take Me flipflop_diva by literallynoonecares

Rey sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.

“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.

“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- Confidence and Desire by MBlair for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves by Lutrosis for LRRH17

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side by AnneAnna for Lutrosis

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life by czechia for maq_moon

- We’ve Met Before by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl) for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) for midwinterspring

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party by Lorelei713 for MissCoppelia

- The Banished Heart by stellardarlings for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

- The Smuggler's Bride by tmwillson3 for MyJediLife

- Annabel Lee by driverfever for myownlittleinfinity

- with my body i thee worship by yodalorian for niennathegrey

- the losing game by KoreRosemarinus for no_big_deal

- standing right in front of you by reylotrash711 for notkellymarie

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling by Priestly for OccasionallyCreative

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same by writergenie for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- You're My Dark Princess by Evangel10n for persimonne

Five years after the defeat of the First Order, Rey is no longer the woman we knew. Having no war to fight, Rey turns to contract killing. Not quite a bounty hunter, no, an assassin is not that honorable. She no longer relies on the Light side to guide her or the Dark, not claiming either side. She is a completely different person, lost, angry, numb. One day she is hired to kill a man she knew intimately, but he doesn’t remember her. What is she going to do? She has two choices here, kill the past or save a man she thought was dead.

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war by Juulna and Annaelle for politicalpadmé

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix by cuddlesome for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You by Ceallaigh for Prix

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters by persimonne for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) by midwinterspring for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer by Abbytheatre08 for Reykenobi68

- The Long Way Home by VR_Trakowski for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight by Takekurabehime for shariling

- Fallen by Reykenobi68 for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me by HopeRebel for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You by the-reylo-void (Anysia) for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

- Lips Raw With Love by MyJediLife for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes by no_big_deal for Takekurabehime

- Glitter & Gold by aionimica for TearoomSaloon

- To kiss like lovers do by FrenchMartiniPlease for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

- Snow Turns To Rain by aneighthdomain for thehobbem

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance by expendable for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods by FangirlintheForest for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) by theresonatinglight for Thursdaygirl

- show me the stars. by shariling for tmwillson3

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home by Blueyedgurl for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon by dustoftheancients for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) by niennathegrey for writergenie

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) by LRRH17 for XarisEirene

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern by midwinterspring for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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imagined-tales · 7 years ago

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Haunting Memories

(Attention: This story contains my OC Alcina and the OC of a dear friend of mine, Mimosa)

Blood filled her blurry vision, the stench of death heavy in the air. Time seemed to move like slow motion. It was horrifying, the scene, the surroundings. A wrecked landscape before her, a warzone. How did she know? She stood on a hill, observed. Observed, how the people fled, panicked, died. By the hands of her men. Shouting orders in Italian, she felt her lips curl into a cold, cruel smile. No, it wasn't her. Her mind screamed, begged for the body to stop, but to no avail. She was stuck in a body that wasn't hers, trapped. Sounds were dulled, sight too. It felt like she was high on drugs. Until a deafening sound tore her away.

Breathing heavily, cold sweat dripping down her forehead, Alcina shot awake in her bed. After few moments of silence, only filled with her ragged breaths, she managed to calm down, and her body stopped shaking. Slowly but surely, she recovered and hugged her knees, resting a sweaty forehead on them. It was one of those nights where the memories haunted her, merciless and gruesome as ever. It was the gift and the burden of the clan, an everlasting proof that she was the descendant and heir of a crime syndicate. No matter where she ran, nothing could grant her refuge from these memories, occuring as nightmares; it was like a spider web. The more she struggled, the more she got entangled in the sticky threads, never escaping the eyes of the hunter unyieldingly watching from the dark.

Heart beating faster than ever, thoughts rushed through her mind and she hugged herlself closer. Calm down, she told herself, everything is alright. These are just memories. You are not like your ancestors. You do not commit such crimes.

Simple phrases. But they worked. Her heart calmed down. That was, until another boom could be heard, coming from the distance. Alcina knew what those sounds were: fireworks. People who could not await silvester and decided to gloat over the colourful little explosions days before the event itself took place. Alcina also knew that these people meant no harm, that fireworks were simply ejoyable to look at, the way the colours burst through their little shell in the sky, like a painting on the dark canvas of the night sky. But no matter how many years she told herself these things, the growing nervousness and anxiety that crept up this time of the year around never went away, but instead lingered in the back of her very being, haunting her.

Dazed, Alcina looked out of the window into the night sky. Stars littered it, beautiful as ever. A quick glance at the clock on the small nightstand told her it was five am in the morning, and so she decided to get up, make herself presentable and start her day.

As the young woman went on with her day, the cowering, terrified her from the night before seemed like an illusion; she was a proud Overwatch agent, strong, looked up to. She did not show a sign of her weakness. No matter how much she tried to hide her distress however, as the days went on, her friends noticed something was not right. She was unconcentrated, nervous, almost constantly frightened, especially when fireworks went off in the distance. Those were only single explosions, occuring at random times during the days, but every time one of those went off, the warrior flinched hard, with an increasing intensity.

Needless to say, the others were worried about their friend. Mimosa had tried to strike up a conversation concerning the matter, but was quickly shut down with a fake smile and some dull excuses. Hana too, tried to talk to Alcina, as the Korean girl was very close to her older colleague, and tried to take her mind off of things by playing games with her. Genji too, was close to Alcina, but knew that she did not like talking about what she thought made her "weak", so he tried more subtle advances. Asking her to meditate with him and his master Zenyatta in their usual spot on the rooftop, but upon learning that they were outside, she quickly shut his invitantions down too.

As time went by, Alcina was rarely seen around the base, yet alone outside, spending most of the time alone in her quarters, isolated from the others. Angela was the first one to run out of patience. The doctor knew that Alcina and her were not on good terms with each other, and that she rather visited the other doctor, Mimosa, if she needed anything, but one night Alcina stood at her doorstep asking for really strong sleeping medication. The Swiss was not having it, shoving their differences aside and refusing her aid until the Italian talked. It took a lot of pushing and threats to tell Mimosa what she came here for, when Alcina finally crumbled under the pressure. Playing with a strand of her ashen hair, she confessed what had caused her to behave so strange lately. The doctor already had her assumptions concerning the topic, and was right when the younger woman confessed about the fireworks. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she was just being delusional, the constant fear of these gunshot like sounding things would not stop.

It was a testament of the hardships she had been through, and Angela understood. During all her time in Overwatch, the medic has seen countless soldiers crumble beneath the burdens that came with being an agent, and was acquainted with the traumas that wormed their way into ones psyche. Battlefields never let you leave the way you entered them. They were unforgiving, unforgetting. Mercy sighed. She gave Alcina some light medication to help her for the night and made a mental note to tell those close to her about her predicament; they would be able to help, meanwhile she couldn't.

The next day went slightly better: Alcina showed herself around the base, though she still did not go outside. Fulfilling the unspoken promise Dr.Ziegler made last night, a few Overwatch members were let in on a little secret, and soon enough, Alcina had to deal with her very concerned friends. This time, they knew what was up und excuses were futile.

,,Cina! Why didn't you tell us sooner? We could have helped you!" It was Hanas voice that bewildered Alcina. Laced with worry and a little bit of anger, the smaller girl stood before her, a conflicted expression on her face. ,,She is right. I can help you with your trauma, you know? These kind of things are my speciality." Mimosa too, spoke up, though his face showed mostly concern and even a tad sadness. Noticing her puzzlement, he frowned. ,,Angela told us about what happened yesterday night. We had no clue you had a trauma like that..." It must have shown that she wanted to escape the situation, because Hana quickly grabbed her wrist, a begging look in her eyes. ,,Please don't run again. We just want to help, you know? We're worried about you."

,,I know, my friends, and I must apologise for my behaviour. The past days and nights have been quite... Stressful for me. I did not mean to cause you worry." Her Italian accent came out thick, as it always did, when Alcina was not feeling very well. ,,So, now that you're finally ready to talk to us, why don't you elaborate?" This time it was neither Hana nor Mimosa who spoke, but an elderly woman with an eyepatch, otherwise known as Ana. She may be a woman of age, and fairly older than herself, but Alcina still got along with her nicely. Often, the two would just sit together over a cup of tea and talk about god and the world, enjoying some peace and quiet together. Leaning against the wall however stood another person, or rather, a cyborg. Genji preferred to keep quiet and listen first, before talking. Just like Ana, Alcina had not noticed his presence. Another sign for her missing well being.

Sighing, the warrior sat down, and Hana with her, though her hand had wandered from the wrist to the hand of her older friend, giving it an ecouraging squeeze.

The four of them listened quietly, as the ashen haired woman talked about her haunting nightmares that left her sleepless at night, the fireworks that reminded her of gunshots and when asked why she did not decide to talk sooner, she answered that these weaknessess of hers felt like an unsightly shortcoming. She was a warrior and a professional Overwatch agent. Surely someone like her, who usually seemed to overflow with pride and confidence, could not be scared by something so minor like fireworks! She felt embarassed, even childish, to admit such a thing.

,,It is not unsightly to show weakness. Weaknessesses can only make us stronger if we face them." Genjis robotic voice was comforting as he lay a hand on her shoulder. ,,He's right dear. Everyone has a weakness. Besides, I have seen many soldiers younger than you with worse traumas. The battlefield affects us all in some kind of way, it is only natural to carry its burdens." Ana too, had come closer, a smile playing on her lips. Her tone was soothing, understanding. Suddenly, Alcina did not feel the need anymore to put up a strong mask and act like everything was alright. But instead, a warm feeling slowly rose in her chest, stretching out and soon reaching her lips too, causing her to smile.

,,Now, who wants some tea? I for sure would love a nice, hut cup." Ana had a somewhat motherly attitude as she offered to make tea. ,,And after that, we can play games to take your mind off of things!" Hana chirped in, visibly excited, drawing out a chuckle from the others. ,,And I could help you with a more medical approach to the situation." Softly but determined, Mimosa too stepped forwards. ,,My offer to meditate with my master and me still stands." Altough he wore his visor, Alcina was sure Genji smiled beneath it.

,,I must thank you all, from the bottom of my heart." Openly touched, she had looked around her closest friends, regretting she did not talk to them sooner. Upon hearing this, Hana squeezed her hand again

,,You don't have to thank us, that's what friends are for!"

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