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hannya-writes · 4 years

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Hihihi! I know it's kinda crazy and I just found your acc but I was LITERALLY thinking about a Marvel-SVU crossover and found yoooooou. I mean... The algorithm lead me to you. It's ✨ Destiny ✨ haha So I was wondering if you could write something Marvel-SVU kinda with Carisi x reader (i don't know if you watch agents of shield) where reader has to go UC for Shield and falls in love with him and he finds out she's Shield etc. I don't know if I'm making any sense rn I'm just really happy I found you. And now I sound creepy but it's already too late and I'm sending this.

Dear @lapaquerette : I do not watch Agents of shield, but I did my best! I swear I did! 😭 you totally made sense! But I feel like there's part of this story that are not so good, anyways~ let's get to the story!!

Title: Don't Tell anyone

Fandom: MCU and Law and order SVU

Pairing: Sonny Caruso x Reader

Other characters: no, I think no

Category: romance

Warnings: this doesn't have a happy ending bc I'm bad writing those! This is long I think.

Author's note: for a moment I thought of making this a serie, but my head couldn't stand it! I don't feel like I can picture Carisi in the right way so probably he's going to be very OOC. Also I'm not supper proud of this because I literally did what I wanted with the time line, Captain America: Winter Soldier happens in 2016 however Caruso es ADA in 2020 if I'm not wrong but in this case the events of winter soldier happen in 2020. Also there's like 2 years of difference btw WS and Civil War, and I tried my best! To make everything fit, but you know, you can kick my ass in comments.

• • •

The mission was supposed to last just a couple of days. Y/n had to pose as an assistant to the Junior ADA's why did they need assistance she didn't know, but when Nick fury assigned her there she just didn't dared to ask.

"Find out what's going on there" he had said as if it was a life or dead situation.

Pepto. That's what happened. High expectations was the other thing happening. The Junior ADA's where being pressed, running towards death case by case.

It was boring, the first two days Y/n had played "who's the jerk of the room?" She had found more than one, stress made that to people. Who cares about cordiality when they had to put people in jail? The answer was Dominic "Sonny" Carisi.

Sonny never yelled or snapped at people, he always asked nicely about papers, he said "Good Morning" and "thank you". He was a gentleman, a knight in a shiny armor. He made funny jokes even when he was struggling with a case.

Y/n had felt a weird desire to help him after just one encounter. The puppy eyes, she reasoned. After that day when he was in court she appeared there, sat and suddenly the people being cross-examined poured the truth without control or bursted in fit of rage confessing everything. She wasn't making something bad, she was helping, which she was supposed to do. No one was going to link her to those incidents. No one knew what she could do.

— copies, now — one of ADA's order her and she almost pushed the asshole and told him to do it himself, it was only a copy machine, he only had to push a button! However, Y/n was a trained spy, she had control over every muscle in her face to not make a disgusted expression at the tall and skinny man. 63 ways to kill him appeared in her head in a second.

— Sure thing — she said in a gently tone, entertaining her mind in the more horrible ways to deal with Tommy.

Tommy Parish, a bully in and out of court, linked to the Irish Mafia. He thought he was a big fish, prepotent but surprisingly brilliant. He was like a weasel. He wasn't that important. Shield wasn't interested by his night activities. They thought there was something else, something more important. Y/n didn't think so. The more interesting thing there was...

— Oh, Sorry didn't meant to...— Sonny said as he almost hit Y/n with the door.

— my fault, I was standing here like a creep — she took the guilt with a sheepish smile.

— A penny for your thoughts — he said as he walked outside and Y/n instinctively followed, as she usually followed after director Nick Fury,

— I think I'm being punished — she said while walking aimlessly, if Sonny had walked in the male restroom she would have probably followed him blindly.

— punish? For what? Did Tommy said something mean to you again? — the blond man sounded concerned and for Y/n it was refreshing, people around her tended to be more defensive around her than being worried about her well being.

— no! I think Tommy is warming up to me — Y/n said proudly — it's my umm... Dad, he send me to live here and I think is because he is mad at me —

There was a small silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

— why would he be mad? You are amazing! — Sonny sounded so positive and brilliant, he always seemed to have that aura around him, even in the worst cases. Y/n noticed it, and worried her when he started to lose his shine.

— in my last job, I made a mistake and people got hurt — the confession was sincere. She wasn't lying, she was omitting that those people didn't just "got hurt", they died. She had killed them.

— You are human, humans make mistakes — he said stopping in front of an embellished door. — talk later? — he asked and Y/n nodded with a smile.

•••

After a month everything still was normal. No conspicuous action, no weird people. Y/n wondered why was she there? Was she really being punished by Fury? She had made a mistake, she had chose to save a person, she couldn't know that the objective was going to detonate the whole place. She couldn't read every single thought, her brain would melt if she even tried.

— Sorry, I need to... — said Sonny pointing at the copy machine, y/n blushed for being caught spacing out, again for the 4 time in a week

— I'm so sorry, allow me — y/n extended a hand offering to make the copy for Carisi.

— don't worry, I can push a button — he said making her smile and feel weird.

— please Mr. Carisi, let me be of help — she offered tilting her head a little bit, Sonny found that little action distracting and cute enough to give her the papers he needed to copy.

He saw her move, she was so elegant even just making copies.

— thank you — he told her sighing exhausted.

— don't worry Mr. Carisi, I'll do this, get it in a folder and get it back to you, why don't you go rest your eyes a bit? — she asked with a smile, noticing his tired demeanor

— I'll do it, if you start calling me Sonny — he negotiated and she laughed whole heartedly — come on, everytime you call me Mr. Carisi I feel like you are talking to my father —

— fine, you got yourself a deal — she offered her hand and he took her in his bigger one. Sonny felt asleep with the sound of the copy machine working.

— Sonny, Sonny — Y/n soft voice took him out of dreamland, he found out in that moment that his Nickname sounded awesome from Y/n lips.

•••

From Sonny's eyes y/n was an amazing woman who was able to help everyone with their tasks, she made copies, keep archives ordered, got everything for everyone. She made time to know all of the junior's ADA's of "her room", she served coffee when needed, got them food, kept clean clothes for them just in case. She was like a mother. Sometimes she even helped them found the info they needed. She made all of that and made it with a polite smile. She had been there for like a year and their interactions where short, but he was head over heels for her.

Why? Because she got a great sense of humor, she was nice, smart, sassy when needed, had an excellent memory, she made the best black coffee he had ever tasted. She never got nervous no matter the circumstances. He didn't understand how or why was she assigned to be the "mother hen" of 7 ADA's, but he was thankful. Some days became better the moment she gave him a smile and he imagined that smile was just for him.

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose in pain. It was past midnight and he was still in his office, working on papers. Practicing his opening statement.

— the truth... The truth....— he repeated trying to remember the next point of the speach. He grunted frustrated.

— Sonny? — the sudden voice made the attorney jump and Y/n laughed.

— Geez, doll! — he exclaimed surprised — You should use a bell — added more awake than before.

— doll? — Y/n questioned rising an eyebrow, Sonny turned red.

— Sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you — he quickly apologized.

— you didn't, I actually like it — she admitted — I'll allow it — added in a solemn voice — with a condition councilor, only in private I don't need more gossips going around—

After saying those words, Y/n knew that she was digging her own grave. She liked Sonny.

•••

Y/n looked at her phone horrified. Nick had send her and encrypted message. Which was resumed to: You are free of SHIELD, live the life of Y/n Veith. The life he had created for her, an identity that couldn't be connected to the Spy agency. Y/n Y/l/n had died in what they called something like the purge of Hydra. He didn't needed her. He had died. Captain america had basically destroyed the corrupted SHIELD. This was her life now. She was what? a secretary? An assistant?

She should had fail with SHIELD, she should had been there with Fury, protecting him. But she didn't. She pretended nothing happened and followed his last order to her: live like Y/n Veith.

She went with the flow. Acted like everything was just fine, made a routine, followed it to the last point. Untill one day out of the blue she broke down crying in Sonny's office. He was her friend.

— what happened? — he asked on the other side of the desk, surprised that in the middle of his speech, y/n started crying. The case was difficult, a father died to protect his daughter. The teenager girl had been raped and her father was killed by the rapist. It was way more complicated but, that were the facts.

— sorry, sorry — she said cleaning her face with her hands, Sonny approached and offered her a handkerchief that she took hesitantly. — I lost, I lost him — she stuttered.

Sonny kneeled by her side, took the handkerchief and cleaned her beautiful face.

— I'm so sorry, doll — he said even if he didn't understand, Y/n felt his consternation.

— my father died — she said with a soft voice — my house burned down — she added and Sonny understood, her father adopted her, he had saved her and then lost it all. The case had hit too close to her.

— Come on, we had enough of this case — he decided getting up, taking her hands to get her to stand — I'll take you home — he said and she smiled with sadness.

— I don't want to go to my department — she confessed getting up and Sonny gave her a soothing smile.

— We can go to my place — he offered without a second intention, she nodded and they walked away from the office, Sonny ordered an Uber.

Outside of One Hogan place with a heavy heart, y/n leaned against Sonny and he hugged her while waiting for their ride, and during the ride.

Y/n fell asleep without nightmares for the first time in the 6 months after the dead of Nick. Sonny by her side, over the covers and behind a "wall" of pillows fell asleep with the image of a peaceful Y/n.

•••

Three months later, Y/n entered Sonny's little office, she said a "sorry to interrupt", the blond man stopped writing and turned to her eagerly, he tried to suppress his desire to look into her eyes but he wasn't that good at that.

He hadn't seen her in more than 14 days thanks to his overflow of cases and her being stole by homicides DA, who had discovered she was very good in investing.

She muttered a "what?" In mockery, as if the distance and time hadn't even happened and added a "I got you a donut!". A donut that he had craved since morning but wasn't able to get. He sighed a laugh, sometimes it was as if she could read his mind.

— you are life saver, doll— he sighed in relief taking the donut from her hand.

— Should I get you some coffee? — she asked with that caring tone that made him feel special.

— I would love that — he accepted as she merrily went to the coffee machine and poured him a cup and then a glass of water.

Sonny wondered about where did those pretty and elegant glasses came from, have they always been there? She left a bag in the table and walked back to him. He pretended to be working but it was hard to act when she was walking towards him with that dark red pencil skirt that hug perfectly the curb of her hips, the black blouse making contrast, hanging a bit loose over her torso.

— thanks doll — he said when she put the coffee and water in a corner of the desk, he looked at her with a smile — water? — he asked with a joking tone, y/n nodded

— yes, sir — she said in the same joking mood — I took an account of the caffeine you ingest by day, this could be dangerous for your health, so for every cup of caffeine, one of water — she explained with as much confidence as a lawyer making an opening statement.

— are you worried about me? — he was almost flirting, she blushed even if they sometimes flirted a bit.

— I worry about all of you — she pointed out and gave a mischievous smile that made Sonny blush.

— thank you, doll — he quipped with a smile, she smiled back and walked away to Parish desk, the man sat there looked down to his papers as Y/n put a bagel by his hand.

Sonny noticed how Tommy's ears got as read as a tomato and turned to look at her with adoration, the same look the other ADA's got everytime she was near. He had seen how things slowly changed with Y/n presence, at first they were rude, condescending, then they realized that she was excellent in her work. She had saved all of them more than once with little actions.

Y/n had a charming aura and some men in the office had asked her out, Tommy included, but she always turned them down, with an excellent excuse. "I'm seeing someone".

Carisi wondered who. Who was she dating?

•••

— Coffee — she announced as she took a folder and put it carefully away.

Sonny smiled and suddenly thought of Y/n lie about she seeing someone. She had never tell him about her boyfriend, he thought of all of those slice of life moments they had, the banters they have, the many times she had helped him. The times she would stay in his apartment so she wouldn't be alone.

Was he the person she was seeing?

— do you have plans for tonight? — he asked abruptly and Y/n looked at him surprised.

— I got a date with my bed, but I can reschedule — she offered with a smile, she could rest later, she had to enjoy every moment with Sonny.

— do it, I'll take you to a wonderful place — He said with all of his confidence, she giggled — after work? — she nodded contently.

— It's a deal — she said before walking away with a big smile in her face.

Sonny felt stupidly happy. It was him. She was dating him unofficially.

•••

That night Y/n tried to look as perfect as was possible in work clothes, she had refreshed herself, use a little more of make up. She was excited, she really liked Sonny and had wanted to go on a date with him, no work talk, no solving ways to state a question. She wanted to know him in a more personal way.

They sat in a table of a nice looking bar, a decent one. It wasn't pretentious, they actually served food and not just greasy fast food. She had told him distorted versions of stories with her "family and friends", (since she couldn't talk about her real life and training) like that time her father had taught her how to use a gun for her homework and she discovered she had weak fingers.

She heard about his time as a Police officer, a detective nonetheless! Sargent Benson seemed to be a very empathic person, Detective Tutuola was definitely a funny man, Amanda was for him like one more of his sisters. And Sonny discovered that she was adopted by a man called Nick, Nick Veith he guessed, since he thought that was her real last name.

She had two "adopted" sister and a brother: Maria, Natalie and Clinton. Maria was righteous, Nat was smart and sassy, Clint was funny and sometimes really annoying. Sonny thought he would get along easily with them.

They laughed between stories, they were getting fun untill Y/n felt there was something wrong. Something was about to happen. Something bad.

— Something wrong? — Y/n barely registered Sonny's voice before jumping over him yelling a "get down". A telekinetic wake made the other around people fall to the ground just in time as a rain of bullets came from the broken windows.

Sonny heard the glass breaking, people screaming in panic. Saw the bullets fly over him and the bottles in the bar breaking in slow motion. He had never experienced anything like that. The light weight of Y/n over him. And his monkey mind thought about how right that felt.

There was a "clank" from a gas' bomb, then a flash and a cloud of white smoke. People stood up and started running.

— Y/n — Sonny pulled her to see her face, he thought she would be scared, paralyzed from fear. However, when he saw her face there was no fear, she seemed confused, puzzled. — come on, we have to move —

Y/n was thinking the same, but she didn't know what was the right move: defend everyone there using her not-so-human powers? Run away and pretend to be a delicate woman, scared of the situation?

— doll? — Sonny sounded worried and in almost panic, a switch turned as boots hit the floor of the bar.

— Stay behind me — Y/n said with confidence getting up, feeling the presence of 8 people surrounding them, circling them. — and... — she looked at Sonny worried — don't get scared — she pleaded softly.

— Y/n Y/l/n surrender yourself — someone yelled and the woman felt her skin crawl, she hadn't hear her name in more than a year. It sounded good.

— is this about the accords? — She thought, aware of the Sokovia accords and what they proposed. She hadn't signed them. No one was supposed to know about her, her powers, she hadn't expected the government to notice her.

Nat? Clint? Maybe Maria had told them.

— That's right, put your hands in the air — the man ordered in a shout. Y/n closed her eyes and closed her hand in a thigh fist, making the fog disappear.

— Sorry, I can't do that— she confessed pushing the man with telekinesis. — I'm not a weapon you can use —

A new row of bullets flew towards Y/n and Sonny. A bright green light appeared in her eyes and all of the bullets stopped in the air, traces of the same light that made Y/n shine seemed to contain the little bullets like tendrills, the bullets turned in the air pointing at the squadron that was attacking her

— Y/n, no! — Sonny made her react, the tendrills disappeared and the bullets fell useless to the ground as the woman turned to see the Attorney.

— Sonny, sonny — she stuttered worried— no, no, no, no, I would never hurt them, I'm not a monster, I'm not! — she said almost in panic,not because of the attack but for the ideas Sonny could get.

Sonny saw the green and now red light form an eyes over Y/n, then monsters from nightmares formed from the light, monsters like dogs, with skulls covering the hideous animals with blood dripping from their snouts, bodies wet with a black substance. The animals roared and jumped to defend them.

Y/n saw fear in Sonny's eyes. She recognized it, a bright tendril started to form in the exact point of her heart, the fear taking form in her presence. Her hand squished the light over her chest, stopping something else to form.

He didn't know what to say. Carisi knew about the avengers, the new york incident had affected his work, he had saw everything about "ultron", he was informed about Tony Stark and the avengers every move. But he didn't know what was he supposed to say? "Sign the accords" was what he wanted to say. It was selfish for him to ask that, he couldn't do it.

— doll, you're not a monster— he finally found his own voice to say that. — but you have to go —

— Sonny, I... — the ADA put a strand of hair behind Y/n ear taking her by surprise.

— If you don't mind, I'll like to kiss you — he said making her blink in disbelief.

— yes please...— she said and Carisi smiled brightly, his large hand caressed her cheek and softly leave a tender kiss in her soft lips. It barely lasted more than a second. When Carisi opened up his eyes, everything was back to normal. Like a couple of minutes ago, right before the shooting.

In the table was a note: "Don't tell anyone" he recognized Y/n writing. He wondered if everything had been a dream, a hallucination. A part of him told him that no, that couldn't be his imagination. Y/n had left.

#law and order special victims unit #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #marvel #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny x reader #sonny carisi x y/n #sonny carisi x you #ada sonny carisi #requested #law and order svu

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amoret-the-leaf · 3 years

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Summary: Wei Wuxian is determined. After seeing his Lan Zhan yawning, yawning of all things, he makes it his mission to let his husband take a rest. Though, as with many things in life, it doesn't go according to plan. Many years had passed since the esteemed Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch had found themselves stuck in a cave on death's doorstep, confessing deeply rooted traumas to each other. Wei Ying would give everything he had and more to never let it happen again. Never. He was going to cherish Lan Wangji like he deserved, until the day he died.

Ship: Wangxian

Word Count: 5397

Author’s Note: This story is a result of MDZS/CQL frankencanon, and may contain differences in titles and ways of addressing due to subtitle variations. This work may not be completely accurate to Ancient Chinese and Xianxia culture. If something has been written inappropriately/offensively, please let me know!

This chapter contains:

Exhaustion, Hypothermia, Delirium

"IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE!!! HUG ME LAN ZHAN!!!"

The snow was fierce, blowing in strong gusts of wind that changed directions every few seconds. Thick snowflakes sat in everyone's hair, from the lovers leading to the group, to the juniors being nearly blown away trailing behind. Clearly (or rather, unclearly- it was very hard to see), this day was not going as Wei Ying had hoped. Had it, and they might've been dancing through the white-coated streets of Caiyi, where the sky was calm now, and the sun shone to melt some of the snow. A blizzard in Yuanwei was certainly not in his planned itinerary for the day.

They'd been sent off when Zewu-Jun arrived back in the Cloud Recesses, visibly distressed with several delayed letters of aid coming from the townspeople. A blizzard of questionable origins had been raging for about two days now, judging by the dates on the papers. A collection of them had been found just outside the borders of the place. When recalling the events of the night before to the Lan Sect Leader, the worst was feared. Had the people been... were they gone?

If so, they were dealing with something, or someone, much more dangerous than they'd hoped.

So Zewu-Jun sent out his brother, accompanied by Wei Ying, and a group of their finest junior disciples to look for survivors, or bodies of the dead. Whatever was left at this point. Though, what had yet to be explained, was why Jin Ling was trotting around and rolling his eyes at Wei Ying snuggling against up his lover.

"Roll your eyes all you want! I'm cold! What are you even doing here?!" The former Jiang disciple hissed, head half-covered by Wangi's long sleeve he'd been wrapped in. "Shouldn't you be doing Sect Leader things?! If we needed a Sect Leader, Zewu-Jun would've come with us!"

"Mind your business!" The teen snapped back, crossing his arms. "I'm studying in Gusu right now! Did you forget? We literally see each other every day!" Jin Ling... in the Cloud Recesses? That would explain why a wild Jin would be wearing white. But it wasn't exactly ringing a bell. "Why didn't you dress warmer anyways? You knew where we were going!"

"I am dressed warm! I have my warmest clothes on mind you! But it's still cold!"

"Then you're a baby."

"A-Ling... Maybe fighting with Senior Wei isn't worth it?" Sizhui intervened, giving the softest nervous smile he could. "All of us are still cold, the temperatures are below what most of us are used to. We should try to get this done as soon as possible."

So it was A-Ling now? Interesting... He and Sizhui would be having a talk when they got home. Wangji seemed to pick up on this too, sharing a look with the other before nodding.

"Well said Sizhui!" Wei Ying exclaimed, pacing around the group. "What a polite disciple! You should try to be more like him! Your uncle has corrupted your brain to be so aggressive! It's scary!" He jumped back to his lover in exaggerated fear when Jin Ling practically growled at him as a response.

"Can we get going now? Some of us would like to keep all our fingers and toes by the end of this." Jingyi complained, sarcasm being second nature to him. It was almost impressive. "It's cold, and this place is almost buried. I don't wanna be buried with it."

Normally, the Second Jade would at least point out the rude behavior. But the boy was right. People's lives could be on the line. So he took off his outermost layer of winter robes, gently placing the clothing around Wei Ying's shoulders. His husband's golden core was still weak in comparison to what it used to be, Wangji could manage in the cold if it meant swaddling the other. White was not his color, but seeing Wei Ying with embellished clouds covering his typical black and red combination reminded him of their student days back in Gusu. Back when they were carefree teenagers.

They had to move now.

So they walked. Trudging through knee-deep snow as wind whipped their faces, snow blurring their vision, and hoping they were still headed towards the right direction. Wei Ying tried to protest giving the extra layer back, but would only be met with, "You need it more." At least, it was something along those lines. Perhaps it changed, Wei Ying didn't focus on it too much. All he wanted was for his beloved to be taking a break.

They hadn't slept in. There was no time for naps or any trips out to Caiyi. No buying loquats in the marketplace or relaxing by the cold pond (too cold to go in!) or catching up over a meal with the kids. It scared him. Wangji looked exhausted; scary to think about, scarier to see.

Is this what it felt like? Being worried for your one true love? Did Lan Zhan go through this all the time? Standing there, watching, knowing he's too stubborn to ask for help or properly take a rest? They were more alike than Wei Ying would like to admit... and that was... Miraculous. Even through his worry, Wei Ying couldn't help but be enamored by the graceful beauty Wangji had. Intoxicating in the best way.

Thick, frosty flakes sat in his hair, looking so natural. So pristine, so tranquil. "Lan Zhan! How dare you look like a regal, captivating snow prince while the rest of us look like drowned rats!" The Yiling Patriarch whined. He wasn't wrong, damp, half-frozen hair clung together wildly in almost everyone's face. Yet Lan Wangji was immune, so to speak, still looking as handsome as ever. Even tired, he was radiant.

"Mn. Not true." The Second Jade replied.

Ah, an opportunity. "Oh? Is that so?" Wei Ying smirked, bringing his palms to rest cutely onto his frigid, rosy cheeks. "So there's an exception then? Someone who gets to be labelled as breathtaking as Hanguang-Jun? I envy them~"

"Sizhui."

Eh!? "LAN ZHAN!!!" Wei Ying cried, throwing his arms back down in a fuss. He could already hear the muffled snickers coming from the juniors still following behind. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ME!!!"

"Lying is forbidden."

"WHAT!?!? LAN WANGJI!!!"

Oh how they laughed. The lot of teens quite honestly couldn't contain it anymore. Senior Wei had just been delivered a critical blow- that was hilariously overdue. Anyone could hear the moment Jin Ling dropped to the ground with a loud thump, sinking into the fresh powder as hysterical laughter spread throughout the group. Jingyi was barely hunched over on his knees, trying his very best to stay upright in the frenzy, huffing loudly every few seconds to get more air. The ever-mannered Sizhui only meekly turned away, giggling in a sort of shame.

But Hanguang-Jun took a hand to his husband's face. "Wei Ying is too bright. Too warming. He cannot be a snow prince. Has to be the sun. "

The Yiling Patriarch smiled brightly, spitting out a "take that!" to the group. "Is it because I make you melt, Ji-xiong?" He asked, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Still laying in the snow, Jin Ling covered his eyes. "Ew. I did not want to see that. Please never do that again."

Hanguang-Jun didn't seem outwardly amused, but Wei Ying could tell he was snickering at the remark (on the inside!). That is, until the Second Master Lan stepped forward once more. "No time for this. Advance."

With that, the disciples scurried back and followed. Even his husband seemed to get the message that his teasing time was regretfully over. Maybe Lan Zhan WASN'T laughing on the inside? Actually, he seemed so tense all of a sudden. Stiff as a board. When they'd arrived, he was his usual smittenly sweet self. Now it was like he was in a cultivation conference listening to the nonsense being spit by anyone who craved a sliver of attention. But he had seen him amused by it! So what just happened?

Sizhui, covertly speeding up behind Wei Ying, tugged on his sleeve. If he hadn't been half-expecting the kid to notice, he might've flinched. But A-Yuan was attentive. The subtle frown on the teen's face, the way his eyebrows lowered, and his lip sunk just a bit- Sizhui was worried too. And maybe, just maybe, Wei Ying was close enough to now be able to decipher his kid too.

Before either of them could try to get to the bottom of this, a quiet thunk was heard. Thunking wasn't the typical crunch of the snow now was it? Heads turned to Lan Jingyi, the origin of the sound. At the disciple's feet, something was peeking out. The group gathered around the unidentified object like ducklings, before digging into the fresh powder.

"It's... It's some kind of box?" Someone announced. Three of them lifted it up, but whatever was inside was buried at this point. Tipping it over, parcels containing cloths and pendants fell out. Many of them held the same, if not similar design to the tapestry previously hung in the Jingshi, and the symbol on their map.

"Well!" Wei Ying bent down, grabbing one of the pendants and sweeping snow off its print. "At least we know we're getting close!" He perked up, "And this wasn't buried deep. Someone was carrying this recently. Maybe even a few hours ago. Could've been a merchant, could've been a shopkeeper desperate to preserve their valuables. But it was abandoned here within the last 24 hours, so there's at least one person nearby."

Wangji nodded. But he kept the grim look on his face. It was always a possibility, but no one was happy when he added, "Check for bodies."

They dug around. No bodies. That was a relief. Whoever was out here, well, hopefully this meant shelter was somewhere, and still intact. Townspeople didn't have golden cores, they wouldn't make it long in this.

So they kept going. Wei Ying kept his eyes on Lan Wangji, and through his peripheral vision, watched as Sizhui and now Jingyi seemed to fret at the sight of their beloved Hanguang-Jun. If Jin Ling had any suspicions, he was doing so from afar, trailing behind with the very end of the group.

What was especially concerning, was that Lan Zhan didn't notice them. Really, Lan Wangji wasn't noticing their not-so discreet eyes piercing into him. He just kept walking.

But a hut, a hut on the hill, would draw attention away from that. A hut on a hill with a fire nonetheless, as smoke came out of the side of the place. The teens cheered, scurrying up closer, but never going past their Second Jade, who kept his simple pace. Luckily he seemed relaxed at the sight. Thank goodness, it was unbearable to see that side of him! Oh Wei Ying was definitely having a conversation with his lover about this later.

Wangji lightly knocked on the door. The loud screech of the bitter wind nearly drowned the voices inside the cabin out. But the door swung open. A woman put a hand to her chest, sighing with relief. "The cultivators have arrived!" She cried out. "Oh you're here, we're saved! We're saved!"

She pushed the door out wider. Groups of people could be seen sitting on the floor, the younger of which appearing to be swaddled in thin, scarce blankets. There was enough people crowded in this tiny house to... To fill a village! Oh!

All of them huddled around a tiny bundle of wood lit aflame in the middle of the floor. Just barely, it seemed, as it was more of a flicker than a flame. The Juniors were already taking care of that, a fire talisman sweeping through the air to get a brighter flame on the already charred wood. "Jingyi, Jin Ling, gather some wood." Lan Wangji instructed. "Sizhui, keep feeding the flame as best as you can."

The three nodded, immediately doing as they were told. Sizhui shielded the fire when the other two had opened the door. Still, the fire wavered, hanging on by what could best be compared to a loose thread. "Miss, what happened?" Wangji asked, in as few, few words as possible. At least that was normal.

"Hanguang-Jun," She started, slowly. "Hanguang-Jun, a few days ago, one of our youngest here, A-Bao, had wandered off. When he came back into town, he said he'd met a little girl." The woman's breath hitched, eyes welling up with tears. "H-He said this girl was friendly, and she wanted to play with him. A-Bao talked to her and... and he mentioned he liked snow. So the little girl promised she'd make it snow for him the next day."

It sounded like a fairytale, almost. "We thought... we thought it was a joke. But the snow came the next day. At the time, it was a coincidence to us. It's winter, we don't usually get a lot of it but it's not uncommon. But the snow never stopped!" She cried out, causing a few gathered by the fire to groan, or cover their ears. "It never stopped! We tried sending requests for aid. But every time we sent someone out, they came back, halfway to death's doorstep! No one could bear the journey! The last person to go out never came back! Sang Meng, our most talented in cultivation! A-Bao is his brother... So he went to fix his mess! Oh please, please!" The woman was kneeling now, gripping her dress, tightly. "Please help us, Hanguang-Jun! The boy might've died! We can't last like this!"

A spirit, most definitely. No curse could do this, and last he'd checked, Wei Ying wasn't aware of any large scale weather changing talismans. However, it would be unlikely this spirit would attempt to freeze over the town, and send a signal while its people were still alive. If it was out to kill, no warnings would be given. Therefore, it was not the spirit to have burnt the tapestry last night. Wei Ying's eyes glimmered with a realization. "Has Sang Meng ever created any original talismans?"

The woman nodded, vigorously. "He's been working on an altered fire talisman last I'd heard. Why?"

"He's alive, or, was. Last night. He could still be out there."

Everyone gasped. Some pulled each other close, some remaining more distant. The juniors were surprised, especially. But hope, hope was in the eyes of the townspeople. It was an all too familiar feeling. Wangji nodded, catching onto what his husband had eluded to. "Incident in the Cloud Recesses." He confirmed, though giving no other details. "Sang Meng could be alive. Most likely with the spirit now. I need to go."

...I? When had there ever been an I with them? The one person Wei Ying did not want of this house, and he was volunteering. "Lan Zhan-" He tried, but honestly, it was no use. He also, in good conscience, did not want to send the kids out in this, possibly to retrieve a body. Besides, his husband was already halfway to the door. "Lan Zhan!!! I'm coming with you! Wait for Xian-gege!"

"Wei Ying will stay here."

"Wei Ying absolutely will not. Silly Lan-er-ge."

They were both impossible to sway from these kinds of things. Righteousness was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. The Second Master Lan sighed, taking his beloved's hand. "Wei Ying is cold. The juniors are cold. They will stay here and help keep warm." He insisted,

Wei Ying huffed. Were they fighting? Was this a fight? No, Wangji was looking at him with those sweet big eyes of his. Guilt trap. It was a guilt trap, do not fall for it. They weren't fighting, Lan Zhan was worried. The other hated that. "Lan Zhan is cold too, he just won't admit it. This Yiling Patriarch is coming with you, and you cannot stop him!" With that, he continued for the door.

Wei Ying was set on this. These kids were absolutely not going to fight whatever was able to plague this whole place with a blizzard. It was definitely not the best idea to bring them, now that they had an idea of what was going on. But they could still help these people, hopefully not freezing in the meantime. "Oh, and A-Yuan, you're in charge. None of you are allowed to come with us, just make yourselves useful here. We're gonna go get the bad thing now! Don'tdoanythingstupidokaybyebye!" He beamed, ignoring the near horrified face of their son, and stepping out into the snow. His soulmate was already ten paces ahead.

Lan Wangji, just what was he not telling his A-Ying?

The woman, who Lan Sizhui now knew as Feng Jixiao, turned to face him. "So, are they always like this?"

A-Yuan laughed, timidly. There was only one word that came to mind to answer that, his beloved Hanguang-Jun's favorite phrase in the world. "Mn." He answered, closing his eyes. The disciple couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong, and that he was missing something very important here. But what...

Wei Ying panted, holding himself up on his knees. "Lan... Zhan... not so fast." He mumbled, getting no response. Or rather, if he did get one, he couldn't hear. The wind had grown louder since they'd gone inside. But it was just the two of them out here now, and Wei Wuxian was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with his husband. In this case, it had to come first. Spirit, rescue, whatever they were doing, his soulmate came first- and Wei Ying did not have a good feeling about this. No, not at all. Was Lan Zhan swaying?

They'd been walking for about an hour. Honestly, they probably strayed far away from their original direction long ago. Luckily, the two had a teleportation talisman to use if they started to freeze. Over an hour now, and still no sign of a boy. No taunting whispers of a spirit either. If they couldn't find this spirit, they would have to call for additional aid from the clan and evacuate the townspeople. The only reason they hadn't, well, those without a core had a slim chance of surviving long enough to get to safety. Yuanwei would bury itself, something that Wangji understood, and absolutely would not accep- Was Lan Zhan swaying?

No, Wei Ying couldn't give in to paranoia. The winds were strong, and his vision was blurred with snowflakes that would fall from his eyelashes as he blinked. He definitely was not seeing his husband sway as he walked. He wasn't noticing the way that his soulmate clenched his hands, stretching them in and out. What was it? Had he found A-Bao's brother? Was the sight too terrible to see? Wei Ying took his eyes off Hanguang-Jun for a moment, a fraction in time, to try and organize these frenzied thoughts of his...

Thud.

If a thousand snowflakes had fallen last evening, then the Heavens should be happy with what they'd brought down. The will of no deity or divine being ever deserved to take Hanguang-Jun down with it. But he was falling. By sheer adrenaline, Wei Wuixian was moving. As fast as any rules would forbid, he was moving. Across the sea of dusty white, he was going. But today, Wei Ying couldn't move fast enough. The Second Jade hit the ground, any and all color drained from his face. Lan Wangji was on the ground... a ground that began crackling and crunching underneath him. Snow didn't crackle like that. The Earth did not crackle.

They were walking on a lake. A fucking frozen lake for who knows how long. A frozen body of water they somehow had defied fate on until now. But now his soulmate was unconscious. He looked like he had DIED. How far out were they?! The ice was buried under the snow, Wei Ying couldn't tell! He couldn't see- FUCK!

"LAN ZHAN!"

An earth-shattering scream rang out, and god did he run. Wangji dipped below the surface and he ran. Wei Ying didn't even feel as though he was running. No, he was flying, as fast as humanly possible. The ice cracked beneath his feet as he ran, but he would not falter nor slip. The Yiling Patriarch did not stop as he dove just his hands into the freezing water. Thousands of needles shot through his every nerve, barely registering the white cloth he'd gotten ahold of. But once he saw it, he didn't hesitate. Wei Ying pulled. 'Please don't just be the headband,' he thought, desperately. He pulled and pulled with all the strength he'd worked to regain. Come on... come on! Lan Zhan!

Wei Ying fell back with a limp body in his arms. The former Jiang disciple didn't have time to even check if he was still breathing. They had to- he had to keep running! This ice absolutely not going to hold much longer. The teleportation talisman wouldn't be fast enough! He'd fucking play a life and death game of hopscotch across glaciers if he had to. Lan Wangji just fainted on him. He should've stopped him from coming. He should've said something sooner! This was all his fault!

Bichen. Wangji still had Bichen with him. Wei Ying was too weak to ride a sword, he didn't bring Suibian. But goddammit he was gonna ride this sword. WITH Lan Wangji. Unconcious. There were no other options. Bichen already had let him wield them once, a long time ago, so Wei Ying was eternally grateful when he was able to unsheathe the sword again. He threw it straight out, shaking hands gathering up the Second Jade, and hopping on.

Of course, he'd nearly fallen off right then and there. Bichen had taken a sharp swerve left to keep them on. Wei Ying adjusted his footing, and they were going at breakneck speed, on a dizzying, unclear path. He was on a moving tightrope, and could only hope when they eventually got to the ground, it was real ground. Solid, snow-covered ground. The wind hurt as they flew, but any pain in his hands was completely blocked out by frostbitten numbness and sheer determination.

They weren't high. He didn't feel like breaking any bones if they DID get lucky enough to not die from this. Wei Ying could only swing helplessly back and forth, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Eventually, he'd more or less gone dry of spiritual energy and lost his momentum, and they tumbled off the sword, which came to a halt. Wei Ying wasn't sure if he closed his eyes, or they'd done that by himself. He really didn't want to watch himself die again.

There wasn't any cracking. So, one eye peeked back open. Trembling, he slammed down on the ground with his arm. Not slippery. Hard. No cracking sounds. No breaking. Lan Wangji was in his arms. Panicked relief swept over him as though he'd never experienced before. He could cry, hell, he was already close. But it was too cold. Icicles hanging off his face wouldn't help. "Lan Zhan." He whispered pushing his body over to his husband, turning the Lan on his back. His voice was raspy, and god was he tired. "Lan Zhan." He shook. "A-Zhan. Wake up."

He didn't. Wei Ying hunched over him, breathing hard. He took his finger's to the other's wrist, hesitantly. He really, really couldn't feel, though. The Yiling Patriarch's hands were ghostly white. Was Lan Zhan breathing? He thinks so? Fuck it, he'd do it anyway. Wei Ying used his entire body to press into the other's chest. Deep, strong rounds of pushing, with the scarce bits of spiritual energy he had left being infused into his husband.

Before he could do any mouth to mouth (much to his dismay), a pained groan escaped the Second Jade's throat. Wei Ying quickly moved back, gasping. "Lan Zhan?" He asked, lacing his fingers into his soulmate's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to smack him too, but mostly kiss him. Instead, Wangji just turned over, harshly coughing. A small trail of water he'd breathed in fell onto the ground.

Glazed-over eyes stared back at him. The typical strong, striking gaze of the Lan's golden eyes looked more like they were dripping in honey. Wangji blinked, looking confused. "Wei Ying?" He asked, quietly. Wei Ying only nodded, bringing his unfeeling hand to Lan Zhan's face. Wangji looked as though he wanted to say more, but was simply too out of it. It didn't take much thinking to know that he was ice cold, colder than he was, even if Wei Ying couldn't feel it. They had to find shelter.

There was a tree nearby. Wei Ying trudged over with his own tired and bitterly freezing body and snapped off a thick, long branch. Leaning most of his weight onto his new walking stick, he swung Wangji's arm over his shoulders. "Lan Zhan, I'm going to carry you on my back, okay?" He spoke. Switching which hand he held his stick, he got the Second Jade's other arm around his neck. "Hang on for me, please."

Wei Ying had never said a genuine please in his life.

Wangji gave him no answer. Luckily, he seemed to comply, trying to hold his feet up, just a few centimeters off the ground, so they didn't drag. It was enough. Ideally, Wei Ying would be able to hold his legs, or just cradle the other bridal style in his arms once again. But this was not ideal, and he was exhausted. Wei Ying wasn't sure he'd stay upright without leaning against the stick. That, and he refused to stand on the ice again. If they were getting close, the stick would be the one being plunged into the frozen lake. Never would anyone think the Yiling Patriarch would be hunched over, stabbing the Earth with a walking stick with a frozen Hanguang-Jun on his back all those years ago. Yet here they were.

There was nothing to see but white. If only Wei Ying had more spiritual energy. The teleportation talisman they'd brought was just about useless now. Neither of them would have enough to use it- Lan Zhan's was far too important in keeping him alive. No signals would work in the blizzard either. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision for them to come alone. Then again, if all those kids had fallen into the ice... Wei Wuxian would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive himself for this.

...Wangji had closed his eyes again, head buried into Wei Ying's back as they walked. Was it a relief? Or was he- no, Wei Ying couldn't think about that. He was fine, for now. He WOULD be fine. When this was all over, fuck it, they were going on a break. A year-long break far away from any of this. No night hunting, no cultivation world. The Sects would just have to learn how to live without him and Lan Zhan solving all their problems. The world owed them it's kindness.

Heh, if he wasn't so blind, maybe things would be different. Maybe he could've married Lan Zhan all those years ago. Maybe the Burial Mounds could be the Yiling Wei Sect by now. Maybe Wen Qing and Granny Wen and Uncle Four would be sitting around a table as they feast. Or maybe they'd all be in the Cloud Recesses. Wen Ning would be perfect for this job, considering he's dead. He wanted to call him, in a desperate attempt, but Wei Ying knew he was in Lanling right now.

Maybe if he'd gotten Jiang Cheng out of that damn Wen prison earlier... They'd both have their cores. Maybe he wouldn't have walked his single-plank bridge. He could be sitting in Lotus Pier right now, and Shijie...

A cave. A cave?

He was hallucinating. That definitely wasn't the entrance to a cave. Oh, but it was too good to pass up. For Lan Zhan's sake, he'd have to hope it was real. Slowly sweeping through the mountains of white wet shit, Wei Ying put a hand to the outside rock wall of the hallucinated cave. Solid. Solid? It was real.

The inside was dark, damp, and depressing. Not the first cave they'd be stuck in, unfortunately. This one at least looked a little different, ice hanging from the ceiling in certain spots. But the cave- it was also deep. Deep enough to hide away from the whirring wind outside, and finally sit down with the Second Jade. He didn't waste a moment to pat his hand on the other's cheek, even if his own bones screamed at him. "Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, you can't sleep anymore." Wei Ying spoke, soft, and hurriedly. "Lan Zhan. Open your eyes."

Those golden, honey glow eyes fluttered once more. "Wei Ying." Lan Wangji repeated, as if picking up where he'd left off before. Just by the way his head rested off the cave wall, Wei Ying could tell he was dizzy. "What-"

"I'd like to ask you the same question, Mister 'I'm fine I don't need a break' and 'let's faint on my husband'." The other bit, not exactly meaning to be harsh about it. Still, it probably came off that way. "You. You fainted. What the hell have you been doing? Why won't you talk to me?" Stop. He wasn't angry. Why was he saying these things?

'I'm sorry.' Wei Ying thought, his breath hitching. 'I'm so sorry for not doing something sooner. I let you fall.'

"I..." Wangji really, REALLY looked tired. But Wei Ying couldn't let him sleep. No, not until he warmed up, even just a little. Otherwise, he might never wake up again. "I can't tell... Wei Ying. I can't tell him." The Second Master suddenly shot upright, grasping at Wei Ying's clothes. "You won't tell him, will you? Please don't tell him."

Oh, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. Deliria? "...I won't tell him." Wei Ying answered back, sadly. He shuffled on the floor. That walking stick was about to come in hand. "I won't tell him anything... but we need to get you warmed up." Snapping the stick into three... four smaller sticks, he sprinkled them on a dry spot. Luckily, there was another tree right outside the cave entrance. So Wei Ying had taken Bichen once again, the sword being much heavier this time and chopped up bundles of logs. He came back to the same, mumbling Lan Zhan seated in the exact same place.

He had a fire talisman. Not that he couldn't start one on his own, but this was way easier. Plus, he didn't need spiritual energy for this one. A bit of his tinkering had come to the rescue. Fire talismans were one of the easiest to alter, he'd found. But if that kid had sent a strategic fire all the way to the Cloud Recesses, well, he was a bit of a genius. His rescue would have to wait, though.

The fire caught, blazingly. Sticking his hands over it made them feel as though they were melting back to some degree of normal. "Lan Zhan, I'm gonna move you closer to the fire, okay?"

He didn't get a verbal response. But he did get a pout, and puffed out cheeks. That couldn't help but make him laugh. "Ah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," He spoke, carrying his lover and plopping him on the ground, for him to then lean against Wei Ying's body. "Is Lan Zhan five? No, that can't be it. How about three?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

What didn't Wangji want to tell him? He couldn't be sure. All he could do was gather them up and throw them into the fire. Dissipate, burn and disintegrate and fly away. Make like a bird and fly away.

Hanguang-Jun was down. They had no idea where the spirit was. The Juniors and all the townspeople were waiting for them. Sang Meng's survival was looking less and less likely by the minute.

Lan Zhan was down.

"Shijie," He looks up, frowning, "Xianxian doesn't know what to do now."

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burlesque-articulation · 4 years

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Alright, I pulled out my corkboard and red string again, this time in hopes of dissecting the MAG timeline to see if there is anything there to support my fan theory of:

~Could Jurgen Leitner be Martin’s Dad~

And so far, signs point to a solid "it could be possible”. So in lieu of this, I will be presenting all my evidence with exceptional bias so it better illustrates my desired outcome. Okay? Okay! Let’s get into it.

Let’s begin with 1985, when Jurgen Leitner supposedly begins renting an office in Pall Mall, central London. Presumably this is just where he sets up an office, and not the actual location of the Library, which isn’t something we get-- anyways, getting sidetracked, uhhh.

Right, we know, vaguely, that Martin was born in 1987, two years after Leitner would have set up shop in Central London; and interestingly enough, in that same year of Martin’s birth, Leitner attempted to hire some people to dig a big ol’ hole in the floor of his office to lead into the tunnels built beneath the building. And this could just be wishful thinking, but I believe it is implied that these tunnels connect to the other tunnels of Millbank Prison. Interconnected, and with many exits leading to various parts of the city. Basically, a needlessly intricate means of escape (I guess balconies and back doors just didn’t exist yet, you know) should shit get real. Anyways, the point I’m trying to make, is that it would make sense for Leitner to suddenly be very interested in having direct access to these tunnels from his main office after receiving news that he’s a father, or whatever. Or maybe it’s just because he’s always been a loser that loves vibing in tunnels.

[Obligatory readmore, because this shit gets long, and even more ramble-y. Also I’m not sorry, because y’all are more than welcome to continue scrolling past this mess]

Alright, now fast-forward to 1994, the destruction of the Library. At this point in time, Martin would have been 7. Now hold up! According to the Magnus Archives Wiki, Martin’s father abandoned the family when he was 8 or 9; so isn’t that a whole in the theory right there? No. It’s not. Because the only thing that is implied about Leitner around 1994, is that he went into hiding after the destruction of the Library. At no point is it implied that he even left the country (or even London, but like, I refuse to believe he’s that stupid; even if that alternative is hilarious). To set up my point, I’m going to shift the focus onto Martin now, and what his life might have been like when he was younger.

So, by present events (present actually referring to like, pre-season 4, actually), Martin’s mother is in a care home in Devon. Could be because care homes are cheaper there, or something, I have no idea. Honestly people in my family don’t live long enough to ever even consider this option, so I don’t know how assisted living works at all lmao. But let’s say, for simplicities sake, that Martin actually just grew up around Devon; and I’m throwing a dart at a map and declaring Plymouth as the city he grew up in. Anyways, why does this matter? Because I do in fact believe that Leitner is stupid enough to think that changing which county he lives in counts as being in hiding. And he gets maybe one (1) good summer with his family before the weight of his sins bare down on him, and he realizes that staying in one place really isn’t an option. So maybe he tries travelling around a bit; but inevitably he always ends up coming back to Plymouth. It takes him a year, maybe two, to finally realize that this won’t work forever. His habits are too predictable, and what’s this? The mother of his child is getting sick; and her condition only seems to worsen over time (you know, like how it usually works when someone is taken ill.); and Leitner gets it into his head that he could be the cause of it; so what is the safest course of action, but to completely abandon his family? Surely things will turn out for the better for them all if he were to just... disappear. To cut ties entirely, so as to make sure no one ever comes after them in an attempt to get to him.

And that worked out fucking great, didn’t it.

Bunch of unimportant stuff happens, and eventually Martin ends up dropping out of school, presumably only a year early from graduation (weird but fine); and it’s safe to assume he eventually ends up traveling to London in hopes of better job opportunities. Plus, if he’s gonna be lying on his CV, probably better to head out of county to some place where no one knows him from anywhere to begin with, right? That makes sense, and none of you can say otherwise.

And where does he find himself sliding into a new job position? Oh, that’s right; at the Magnus Institute. In the Library. I’m just saying. I am just saying, that’s a little interesting. I mean, he lied about having a degree in parapsychology on his CV; so if Bouchard really wanted to play along like he thought the CV was entirely legit, it actually would’ve made more sense to put him in Research, or even in Artefact Storage with a degree like that. But nope, Bouchard put him in the Library. Though, I guess we don’t know exactly what all might’ve been on Martin’s faked CV. But I swear to god, if we get bonus content that’s just Martin’s faked CV and it even hints at him working at a “family library/bookshop” I will spontaneously combust.

Regardless, in 2009, supposedly (according to the wiki), Martin began working at the Institute. Personally, I always thought he started working there in 2010, but that doesn’t matter. I actually like 2009 better, because then a year later, Leitner apparently begins working with Gertrude Robinson. Which I find interesting. I mean, really there’s no reason for them not to work together, I just find the timing of it interesting. Of course, Leitner (in MAG80) alludes to the fact that Gertrude was likely only working with him because there was a lack of anyone else around. But that really only explains Gertrude’s interest in Leitner. What attracted Leitner to the Magnus Institute in the first place, I wonder? Aside from the fact that it’s essentially the Library of Alexandria of research on the Entities.

But Leitner had managed to stay out of public eye for about 16 years, why would he chose right around then to start playing peekaboo with the Beholding? Rhetorical question, of course. Y’all should already know exactly where I’m going with this line of questioning. Martin. Martin is what lead Leitner to the Institute, and to Gertrude. Dude just wanted to check up on his son, and now he’s just as trapped as everyone who works for the damn Institute because of all these weird rituals and shit. Plus maybe there was another reason why Leitner went through so much effort to help Gertrude, even putting himself on the line for it; and I think we can all agree that Leitner is a pretty selfish dude who’s only real character trait is being like a fucking cockroach. Straight up, the only way to kill a cockroach is to beat those suckers until they pop like a fucking pimple-- sorry, I’m actually getting ahead of myself, I don’t want to talk about that yet, um.

Leitner’s biggest character trait, and on some level, character flaw, is his Self-Preservation instinct. When the going gets tough, his own health and safety comes first. But maybe he gets a bit sentimental in his old age, and maybe he struck a deal with Gertrude; if he helps her stop the Unknowing, (or actually I think it would’ve been the Dark’s ritual first), she will bring his son down to the tunnels so Leitner can see how he’s grown, and maybe even talk to him. I just think that would be interesting character motivation; because at the end of the day, it’s still a pretty selfish motivation. But at this point, Gertrude’s only other option for help is a teenaged Shadow the Hedgehog wannabe; so she’d likely agree to just about anything for the extra pair of hands. And given what later happens in regards to the Dark’s ritual, which then results in Gertrude’s death; Leitner gets scared back into his hole in the ground.

But hey, I guess things actually kind of worked out for ol’ Jurgen. Because like a year later, his son* (*allegedly, according to apparently no one but me) starts living in the Archives. It’s like he’s living in his son’s basement, he can just pop up for tea and say hi whenever. Maybe complain about all the bugs that keep crawling around. Or not, because Jürgen Leitner is a coward. But I 100% would not put it past him to shuffle his old bones up into the Archives to stand creepily at the edge of wherever Martin was sleeping and angst quietly at the sight of his son. It’s creepy, funny, and sad. Basically a peak TMA scenario right there.

Then Leitner gets brutally piped by Bouchard. Actually, can I say it like that? “Piped” isn’t some kind of... new-age slang for something, is it? God, I hope not. Anyways; Leitner isn’t just beat upside the head with a length of pipe, but literally pulped by Bouchard (or at the very least implied so), in a way that makes identifying the guy difficult enough that he remains a John Doe straight up until Elias confesses to the murder. Now, obviously there are plenty of reasons for this; given that both Daisy and Basira are familiar with the name Leitner, so presumably other sectioned officers would be as well; so there was at least a slim chance that whatever officer got sent to the Institute upon the discovery of the body might just recognize Leitner immediately. But, and sorry to sidetrack here, but there was just one thing that really stood out to me about Martin. One thing that always stuck with me, that for some reason was the main thing that made me thing Leitner could’ve been his dad.

Martin looks like his father, whoever that may or may not be. It is explicitly canon, that Martin looks like whoever his dad is. So wouldn’t it be better safe than sorry for Bouchard to beat Leitner to a pulp wherein no one could easily discern any major features of him once he was found. After all, it would make things rather messy and a bit too complicated if everyone who saw the body was like, “wow! That looks just like you, Martin.” So really, it’s for the best that not only did Bouchard kill Leitner, but he thoroughly did so.

And so, I will end this already way to long of a ramble with the one thing that solidified me on this theory, and Spoilers for Season 5 of MAG, but... In MAG181 Salesa says, “Now you mention it, you actually remind me of Jurgen a bit. In his younger days of course.” to Martin. Of course, Martin did just shoot out a snappy one-liner about books, but... it’s the clarification of Jurgen “in his younger days”, that gets me. Mikaele could just have easily said something about Martin just “sounding” like Leitner. But the way this reads, and how it’s spoken, even, it seems more like someone that might’ve been looking at Martin for awhile, squinting at him as if he’s seen that face somewhere before, and then right when Martin mentions books, it finally clicks. After all, it would’ve been almost 20 years, or possibly more, since Salesa would have left Leitner’s employ.

So yeah, I admit this theory has a much weaker backbone then my Banks/Folger post, but... I just think it’s neat. And it’s another one of those things that actually doesn’t have any affect on the major plot whatsoever. I dunno, maybe it was meant to be some sort of subplot early on that got ditched or something? Point is, that’s all for now, and with any luck, I will never post another crack theory again, and the TMA tag can be safe from my ramblings once more.

#burl posts #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #tma fan theory #martin blackwood #jurgen leitner #no editing; we post rough drafts like idiots #also i didn't actually write this with nearly as much bias as I intended too #i'm too facts-based; and the moment i try saying something that isn't absolutely factual #i'm too quick to add a ''this is only alleged we have no canon proof''#did the same thing with my last redstring theory #i actually think i might start calling my tma theories ''pink-string nonsense'' because it's less #red string means; IT HAS TO BE TRUE IT DEFINITELY MAKES SENSE #whereas pink string is more; IT COULD BE TRUE BUT REALLY I THINK IT WOULD JUST BE NICE/COOL

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elenamcwrites · 4 years

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folklore - a reading

If you’re a swiftie (officially not capitalized now), like me, you’ve probably been experiencing the mystical reverb and spiritual reckoning that is folklore. You’ve also probably been reading plenty of reviews and analysis articles--there are some stellar articles out there already.

Listening to the album is like lying in a meadow over the course of a summer day, afternoon thunderstorm, and the harsh sunset that comes afterwards, spiraling through memories and contemplation. It’s the best of the worst feelings you’ll ever have, and you can’t stop.

So, compulsively, I had to share my own interpretations and thoughts as I listen to the album again for the 7th time.

the 1 - Starting out with just piano, and then turning into what feels like a casual bop, the attitude of this song starts out very ‘I Forgot That You Existed’. And we hold onto that cavalier, ‘oh well’ attitude until... UNTIL. “If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” That line starts the slow ache that builds through the end of the track and makes this song much more more layered and complex than the first song of Lover. Perhaps this is a more honest version of the same feeling. Swift digs deep into that nostalgic feeling, letting us vibe to the wistful wishing at the same time. And of course, there is foreshadowing in the lyrics--film, graves, rose, chosen-family, painting. All of these reappear later on in various songs on the album, and some have been themes from earlier albums, too (especially graves).

Highlight lyric: “In my defense I have none // for digging up the grave another time.”

cardigan - We start with a beat that sounds reminiscent of “high heels on cobblestones,” and it emphasizes this early imagery. Being young is one of the major themes of this song, even though it’s also part of the triptych of songs about a love triangle. The nostalgia feels more specific to young love generally than to the specific lover, asking us to wonder why we judge the young perspective so harshly. The song is an anthem to how much she knew about love, including the pain of it, despite what people say. Swift has shown a special appreciation for the wisdom and raw experience of youth, and this song is another classic defense of the teenage experience. The metaphors in this song are classic Swift, and the structure of this song is reminiscent of ‘All Too Well’--the chorus lyrics change just a bit each time, and we get a powerful, gut-punch verse at the end.

Highlight lyric: “I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs // the smoke would hang around this long // cause I knew everything when I was young.”

the last great american dynasty - ‘The Man’ was probably Swift’s first real feminist anthem, directly stating how sexism affects her career and the perception people have of her. But this song gets at feminism from another perspective. First of all, she’s telling the story of Rebekah Harkness, who was the heiress that lived in her Rhode Island mansion before her. She was a trouble-maker in her town, blamed for her husband’s death and for ruining the calm status quo of the old money neighborhood. It’s completely apparent that Swift relates to this experience, and she likely knew some of this story before she purchased her home. In telling the story of a powerful, interesting woman, Taylor is rebelling against the patriarchy in a slightly subtler way than her previous songs--though she still makes her point pretty clear. Swift cares about the herstory of her home, and she’s made this story iconic by including it on her album. It’s like she took the idea of ‘Starlight,’ but instead of retelling a happy love story, she used her powers for an even more important tale. Now, there are also two potential connections to note: Rebekah also went by Betty, and her maiden name was West. Just remember that. And of course, the theme of the mad woman returns later as well.

Highlight lyric: “who knows if I never showed up what would have been // there goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen // she had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

exile - I like to imagine this song as the follow up to ‘The Last Time,’ from Red. Both are duets, and they both have relatively simple, but strong chords as the primary musical backdrop. Where ‘The Last Time’ depicts a relationship at the cusp, moments before their final conversation, ‘exile’ is post break-up. She’s out with someone new, and we understand this is an unspoken conversation across a room. And the vibe of the songs fit with this progression perfectly. ‘The Last Time’ feels like anxious desperation, but exile feels heavy and depressingly final. We revisit the film motif, and there’s some potential connection to the archived ‘If This Was A Movie’. Now, is that intentional, or does Swift just really like movie imagery? Does it matter? The build in this song is arguably the best on the album, which I think is partly due to the style of the musicality, and partly because it’s helpful to have a lower voice to mix it up. This song sounds the least ‘Swift-esque’ to me--reminds me of Damien Rice most of all--but it still fits beautifully into the album. Also, lots of callbacks in here--town and crown are used a LOT in her prior albums. A few examples: “You traded your baseball cap for a crown” in ‘Long Live’, “They took the crown but it's alright” in ‘Call it What You Want,’ “Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town” in ‘False God.’ Now, again, these could just be words that she loves to use (they also rhyme with a lot), or there could be some deeper connections. I’m guessing it’s somewhere in the middle.

highlight lyric: “second, third, and hundredth chances // balancin' on breaking branches // those eyes add insult to injury”

my tears ricochet - I’ll admit this song had to grow on me a little bit. Why? Well, I don’t love revenge-ballads. But, this is much more complex than LWYMMD, and like the rest of the album, it centers the more vulnerable side of her anger. This song is 100% about Big Machine Records and Scooter Braun. The funeral is for her--or the version of herself that died just before Reputation--and she is back as a ghost (or another version of herself) to haunt those who caused her death. It’s slow, moody, haunted... Everything you want from a bitter funeral march. The best part of this song is that she doesn’t solely pass blame. She shows off her self-awareness, which has become more common in all her music since 1989, but still very clearly places responsibility on Scooter for her ‘stolen lullabies’ (i.e. her masters). Swift claims this song is about young love gone wrong--but, death is a pretty intense metaphor, and given that she blatantly used it (for the first, and maybe only time?) to talk about her career, I don’t think anyone is buying it.

highlight lyric: “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace // and you’re the hero flying around saving face”

mirrorball - Maybe I’m just a biased toward romantic and nostalgic songs, because I don’t love this one either. (I’m sorry!) But, here’s what I’ll say: this song is still exquisite. It reminds me of the reverb-radio-vibe of the late 80s songs, but with the astral, saccharine flavor of the rest of the album. If you condensed the Miss Americana documentary into a song, this would be it. A reflection (get it?) of fame and her desire to be everything to everyone--to be well liked, to be the center of attention. The coolest thing about ‘mirrorball,’ to me, is that she hasn’t written a song quite like this before. It’s sort of a manic-pixie-dream-girl version of herself. Swift is telling us that she knows who she is, and that comes with seeing the less ‘pretty’ side.

highlight lyric: “I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why // I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try try.”

seven - Can you say haunting innocence? This is a great song for half-attentive listening in the sun, and it could almost be a lullaby. In Swift-lore, the theme of childhood shows up every so often, like in ‘Mary’s Song,’ ‘The Best Day,’ ‘It’s Nice to Have a Friend,’ and ‘Christmas Tree Farm.’ This one is definitely the most dreamy, and it is also tinged with that darkness that consistently underlies all the tracks on this album--“Are there still beautiful things?” Imagine a sepia filter, and that’s kind of what this song embodies. Some fans have wondered about this song as a possible hint to bisexuality and/or relationships with women in general. (See Kaylor fan theories if you want to dive deep.) I can see this--the childhood friend has braids, which could imply she’s a little girl, and they ‘hide in the closet’. However, it seems more likely to me that this is coincidence. Lots of kids play in their closets, and if the song is about the friend’s father being angry all the time (and maybe abusive?) hiding in the closet also makes literal sense. I think the imagery in this song is some of my favorite on this album.

Another interesting point that I haven’t seen discussed so far is that Swift names this song ‘seven’ spelled out, yet uses the number ‘1′ in the first track title. The only other track she uses numbers in the name is ‘22′, which is about being 22. So, she could be trying to push past the idea that ‘seven’ is just about being 7 years old--though I do think it’s about that, too. She could also be intentionally connecting ‘the 1′ to ‘22′ in some way. They are both a similar vibe, and perhaps they even refer to the same time period in her life. If we go with that theory, who was T dating at 22? The most likely candidate for that timeframe is Conor Kennedy, which was sort of short-lived, and didn’t seem to end with as much fire as many of her break-ups. So, it’s possible that it’s about him. Or, maybe she just wanted to make sure we knew that ‘the 1′ was a concept she doesn’t really believe in anyway, and didn’t want to grant it the full word ‘one’. Will we ever know?

highlight lyric: “Before I learned civility // I used to scream // Ferociously // Any time I wanted”

august - It seems clear to me that this is the second song in the love-triangle narrative. I’ve heard people claim this is ‘illicit affairs’, but those people obviously haven’t looked at the lyrics. The narrator says ‘James, get in the car,’ which is directly connected to the lyrics in ‘betty.’ But, even without that obvious link, the style of august fits in with the stylistic choices of ‘cardigan’ and ‘betty’. All three have strong instrumental tracks complementing the vocals, soft harmonies, and lots of wistful lyrics. ‘illicit affairs’ cuts much sharper and deeper, but more on that later. Combining the dreamy vibes of ‘seven’ with the slight bop of ‘the 1′, this track is sticky--easy to get stuck in your head. The only thing I wonder about this song is how old this narrator is meant to be. They’re drinking wine, and she references going ‘back to school,’ which sort of feels like a reference to the college experience. But, the betty and james characters make numerous references that feel like high school. So, maybe this affair took place in another city with a college girl? I have to wonder if this is Swift referencing some of the age-gap relationships she’s been in. Again, with Conor Kennedy, she was 22, and he was 18. She also supposedly crashed his sister’s wedding in August, and that was the start of the end of their short romance. I’m just saying...

highlight lyric: “Wanting was enough, for me it was enough // to live for the hope of it all.”

this is me trying - If ‘The Archer’ was Swift confessing to her bad habits after a couple early relationship fights, ‘this is me trying’ is a desperate reminder a few months into the relationship. The two songs are sonically very similar, and I didn’t love the vibe (sorry, again!) the first time. But, I do love the artistic continuation. ‘this is me trying’ slows us down even more than ‘The Archer’ did, with a drum line that is almost like a heart beat, and it feels much less hopeful as a result. The lyrics are also some of the darkest I’ve heard from Swift--”I got wasted like all my potential” and “could’ve followed my fears all the way down.” My heart almost can’t handle this song, to be honest. She also references films again, but my favorite imagery connection is her standing over the lookout, which calls back to Rebekah looking out over the sea in LGAD.

highlight lyric: “and maybe I don't quite know what to say // but I'm here in your doorway”

illicit affairs - This song has that ‘All Too Well’ ache with a hint of ‘Death by A Thousand Cuts’ energy, and personally, I love it. You’ve got the busy instrumental strings underneath a simple, yet haunting melody line, and it’s that light, anxious tension that fits beautifully with the theme of the song. The lyrics depict the simple, small heartbreaking things that remind you of the pain you’re putting yourself through, which is reflected in the slightly surprising, soaring note at the end of the line in the verses. Whether you’ve actually been involved in an affair, these feelings show up in plenty of toxic relationships, and that universality is part of what makes the song powerful. The lyrics aren’t about pretty images, but that’s sort of the point. It’s prime Swift conversational lyricism, and you could pick out any number of lines that make a painful short poem all by themselves.

highlight lyric: “and you wanna scream // don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby” // look at this godforsaken mess that you made me // you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else”

invisible string - The primary love song on the album, this feels like a follow up to ‘Lover,’ maybe something she’d sing after being married a year or two. It’s sort of like ‘Mine,’ but much more mature, partly indicated by the pace of the song, which is steady and sure of itself. It’s also lovely to me that she’s returned to a bit of her country vibes--I ask you, would it feel like true end-game love for Swift if she couldn’t write a country love song about it? Back when she wrote country, all her happy ending songs were merely aspirational, and now they feel true. This is also 100% about Joe Alwyn, and to me, this is proof they have not broken up like some early reviews speculated. We also need to acknowledge that she’s past the Joe Jonas break up (um, good, that was ages ago) and is sending him and Sophie presents for their baby. I read a review that basically said this song seems a little too ‘all tied up’ for Swift, and that it doesn’t feel as genuine as a result. I sort of agree, but if we can take a sad song and accept that it isn’t how she feels 100% of the time, can’t we also do that with happy songs? Plus, she technically does say that it would be ‘pretty to think,’ which sort of implies it’s more a thought experiment than an actual belief. So, there’s that little twinge of sadness we needed to appease the folklore goddess. Oh, and of course, there’s a reference to Lover’s color scheme, saying time “gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies.” Which, many Kaylor hopefuls read as a reference to the Bi pride flag. To that, I just say... Maybe?

highlight lyric: “time, mystical time // cutting me open, then healing me fine”

Mad woman - My favorite thing about this song is the piano melody that happens in the background the whole song, working in concert with the main melody, but also completely independent (and haunting). It reminds me of one concept of madness--having multiple voices or thoughts going on simultaneously. But of course, it’s artfully and perfectly put together, which is the whole point. What could be perceived as madness is, in this case, what makes her able to create a masterful work of art. Now, this is also certainly a song about her masters, Scooter Braun, and Scott Borchetta. But it is also another feminist anthem. Women are taught not to be angry, not to yell, not to react with any emotionality otherwise we are discredited entirely. Swift directly calls this to attention by explaining that we’re angry for a reason--often antagonized intentionally until ‘you find something to wrap your noose around.’ She also makes the important point that women can also ‘hunt witches,’ and can be complicit in treating one another poorly. This is a reference to Scooter Braun’s wife defending him publicly against Taylor. Probably the most savage line is about the ‘master of spin’ having affairs, which she implies his wife knows about and seems to passively accept. But Swift doesn’t go too hard on her, reminding us that ‘no one likes a mad woman’, and that pressure is real. Could this ‘master of spin’ also be Scooter? I think probably. But I did read that some people are connecting this song to Hillary Clinton (she’s a scorpio, and the song references a scorpion sting), and that maybe Trump is the adulterer here... I feel like that’s a stretch, but I appreciate the interpretation.

highlight lyric: “What a shame she went mad // You made her like that”

epiphany - I suspect this song is directly related to how Swift is processing the current state of the pandemic. The atmospheric vibe with slow, clock-ticking beat in the background really feels momentous and poignant. Yes, she starts with images conjured from her grandfather’s stories of World War II, but she quickly seems to compare this awful battle to the doctors fighting COVID-19 on the frontlines in hospitals. The lyrics are simple, repetitive, and powerful. With so many ill literally struggling to breathe, the lines about breathing out really do hit especially hard these days. I can’t believe that wasn’t a thoughtful choice. The chorus is just barely hopeful, reminiscent of the numbness we all have to use as a coping mechanism to get through traumatic experiences. But it’s that little sliver of hope that makes the song even sadder--is that possible?

highlight lyric: “only twenty minutes to sleep // but you dream of some epiphany // just one single glimpse of relief // to make some sense of what you've seen”

betty - Give me all that Tim McGraw, Love Story, early Taylor pop-country. This song is definitely enhanced in part because of its connections to ‘cardigan’ and ‘august,’ but it stands strong on its own. It’s old news at this point, but James and Inez are based on the names of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds’s daughters, so it’s all-but-confirmed that their third daughter was named Betty. Written from the perspective of James, there is massive speculation out there about whether the narrator is meant to be a boy or a girl. There are reasonable clues on both sides, so I’ll just say this: I love Taylor, but she’s always been a little late to the party when it comes to socialized ideas of male/female. Because of that, I don’t think she’d have a female narrator riding a skateboard. I also feel from the style of narration--“I don’t know anything;” “just a summer thing;” “would you tell me to go fuck myself”--it does sound more like stereotypical teenage boy language than what we know as swiftie teenage girl language. What I do like about this song, though, is that because it’s written from James’s perspective, it does sort of leave a wider opening for personal interpretation than some of her other love-story-like songs. The reason I personally love this song is that it’s mostly about redemption and forgiveness. Everyone has wished someone who broke their heart would write this song about them, and so it offers catharsis. Plus, it’s the only song on the album that truly feels happy at the end--thanks, key change! It’s refreshing and heartening, and it’s good timing, too. After the heaviest song on the album, we needed it. (Oh, and there’s a callback to the broken cobblestones from ‘cardigan’. And then he literally mentions her cardigan. So.)

highlight lyric: “if you kiss me // will it be just like I dreamed it? // will it patch your broken wings?”

peace - The vibe of this song is like laying on your couch in the summer with light coming in through the blinds and the ceiling fan is going around just fast enough to keep the warm air circulating, but not really cool you off. This song has a hint of ‘False God’ style, a little jazzy, but otherwise, it’s a pretty fresh feel for Swift. The message fits this thoughtful, lightly antsy feeling. She’s basically saying she wants to start a family with Joe (no, I don’t think she is literally pregnant yet) and settle down, but there is no real ‘settling down’ with her level of fame. I also think that Swift truly enjoys making music, performing, and engaging with her fans, and she doesn’t want to leave that life behind any time soon. So, she’s asking him if he can make that work. It’s, again, a mature vision of what a long-term relationship can actually look and feel like. Not all of us can truly relate to the burdens of fame, but there are other ways we can be unable to ‘give you peace’. No relationship is idyllic forever in the way romantic love often makes it out to be, and this song gives us a more realistic, consistent example. And just in case we thought this was just a nice song, the whole ‘clowns to the West’ is another potential Easter egg. In the lyric video, east is not capitalized, but West is. Most likely, this is a dig at Kanye. If we want to believe Taylor wasn’t being vengeful, it could potentially be a reference to Rebekah (West was her maiden name). I lean toward theory one, although it’s kind of amazing that it works out such that it connects to both.

highlight lyric: “but I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm // if your cascade ocean wave blues come”

hoax - (Phew last one--I don’t have access to ‘the lakes’ yet) Swift can’t end the album without bringing us all back to the raw emotional space she opened up within us. This song brings back similar piano lines from ‘mad woman’ and the image of screaming on the cliffside. Chronologically, ‘hoax’ feels like it takes place after or during the death of her reputation, i.e. the feud with Kim and Kanye, when she was still very vulnerable. Based on timeline, this seems likely to be either Calvin Harris or Tom Hiddleston. It could really be some combination of the two, since many songs aren’t really about just one person. My gut tells me it’s primarily about Calvin, since she’s referenced that they didn’t have a very faithful relationship--”your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.” Both relationships travelled a lot--“I left a part of me in new york.” I’m guessing she’s referencing the feud with Harris over her writing credit on ‘This is What You Came For.’ She takes attacks on her career as seriously as hurtful relationships, and since she’s referencing being torn apart by the media when she says that “what you did was just as dark,” I think it’s likely that this also has something to do with hurting her reputation. It’s another hauntingly beautiful song, and you can totally imagine yourself out on that cliff looking at the midnight sea as the piano line ends.

highlight lyric: “you knew the password, so I let you in the door // you knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score?”

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Overall, the album is my favorite of Taylor’s so far for two reasons: 1) the continuity in both theme and sound is stellar, and 2) there aren’t any songs that I don’t like. Usually, there are 1-3 songs on Taylor’s albums that are either forgettable or too on-the-nose for my taste. I’m sure that is a product, in part, of having to craft songs for radio-play and for her amazing, cinematic live shows. Having given herself the freedom to make whatever music she wanted without thinking (so much) about whether they’d top the charts or be good for a stadium concert, she made an album without a single ‘pop just because’ track.

Now the real question is... What will she do with the remaining 6 months of quarantine???

#taylor swift #swiftie #folklore #album thoughts #folklore thoughts #ts #ts8 #tswift #who else was supposed to go to lover fest?

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midnightartemis · 4 years

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Chapters: 30/? Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Finn/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Maz Kanata, Larma D'Acy, Amilyn Holdo, Snoke (Star Wars), Boba Fett, Bossk (Star Wars), Armitage Hux, Chewbacca (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abuse, Drug Use, Suicide Attempt, Star-crossed, Dreams, Alternate Universe - High School, High School, School Dances, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Multiverse, Reincarnation, Attempted Sexual Assault, Assault, Graphic Description, Teenage Drama, Horny Teenagers, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Drug Use, Drug Dealing

Chapter Two

The first day, a new school. I take a deep breath. It wasn’t my first new school, but I hoped it would be the last. It was a lot to process- Maz, Holdo. Every one of my instincts told me it was too good to be, but I trusted Holdo, and if Maz raised Holdo, I could trust her too. She was right. This was different.

I wake up early, wanting to make a good impression. I brush my teeth and shower and- Is that a razor? It takes a lot longer, but I eventually make it through my leg and armpit hair and jump out of the shower. The closet- My closet is filled with clothes of every shape and size and style and I wonder just how many girls Maz has fostered over the years.

I fish through the clothes until I find a soft dandelion yellow overall style dress and pair it with a white, faux turtleneck shirt made of incredibly stretchy, soft material. There’s a pile of shoes under the clothes, but I decide to stick with my ratty, old white converse… Well, they used to be white. I grab my bag and head downstairs, vibrating with excitement and nervousness. Maz is sitting on the back deck nursing a coffee and overlooking her garden. She’s still in purple and pink pajamas and looks up in surprise when I walk out the door. “You’re up early. Sleep well, kid?”

I nod and stare hungrily at the platter of eggs and bacon. “Yes, thank you.”

Maz notices my hunger. “Well, don’t just stand there, they’re there for you, too. Dig in.”

I quickly sit and fill my plate.

“Do you drink coffee?” I nod and she stands, fetching another cup for me. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Just plain black, please.”

“Ah, you’re one of the good ones I can tell.” Maz chuckles and I giggle, accepting the coffee from her. It smells amazing.

“How many girls have you fostered?”

Maz sits back, a pleasant speculative look in her eye. “Oh… I lose track sometimes. I’ll have to pull out the scrapbook, but I think at least twenty over the years. There was a period of time where I fostered siblings, but now I just take only children. Two people are more than enough for this house. I’ve adopted five of them.”

“Five!?” I nearly choke on my eggs.

“Yes, Amilyn is the only one I see regularly since she’s so close, they’re all spread out all over the world, but most of them call or text or send letters a lot.”

“And it’s just you? No one else?”

“Nope, no one else. I’ve had my fair share of romances,” she winks. “But I do best on my own. I prefer it, with you all for the good company of course.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Well, I know what it feels like. I was in the system once, too. Long, long before your time. I got taken in when I was sixteen by my adoptive parents. And when they died, I decided to carry on that legacy. Help others how they helped me.”

“That sounds very noble.”

Maz snorts. “Hardly. I’m a senile old woman who just wants a little company. It’s for all those-how do you kids say it- juicy government checks.” There’s a twinkle in her eye as she jokes. She takes a glance at the watch on her wrist. “Finish up, wash up. I’ll put on my grandma’s pants and we’ll get you off to school. They’ll want me to sign a bunch of stuff and I gotta get to the bar to deal with their usual incompetencies. Did she mention the bar?”

I nod through my last bite of eggs.

“You’ll never have to go there if you don’t want to, but you’re more than welcome to come by after school. Also, you should send me your number. I don’t want a minute by minute notice of where you are, but you are my responsibility, so I would like to know your general locations and plans. Fair?”

I nod. “Fair.”

There weren't a lot of places I planned on going to. I didn’t know anyone here. Though… I wouldn’t say no to exploring the downtown area.

Maz left to change and I finished my breakfast and cleaned my dishes. I searched through the cupboards until I found a set of glass Tupperware and placed the leftover eggs and bacon inside. I waited patiently on the couch, twiddling my thumbs and trying to not think about things so much. The first day of classes always made me anxious, and now my life has completely turned around in the last twenty-four hours. Maz appeared at the bottom of the stairs and I tried and failed to not smile at her “grandma pants”. For one thing, they were bright purple and covered in embroidery, and, for another, they were paired with an equally bright pink and blue top. Everything screamed hippy grandma. She grabbed a set of keys from a hook on the wall. “Alright, kid, got everything?”

I nod and follow her out the car to her small garage where there is, of course, an original bright yellow Volkswagen bug. Who is this lady and where has she been my entire life? I climb in the passenger seat and we take off down the road to the school.

My stomach does a flip at the sight of the school. There are a few cars in the parking lot, but we’re still half an hour early. Maz parks and we walk through the doors of New Republic High together. The entrance lobby is huge, surrounded by windows and filled with light from a round skylight in the ceiling. The floor is white tile and in the center of the lobby floor, there is a huge mosaic crest of a Falcon clutching a sword. A red banner flies below it inscribed with Latin: In absentia lucis, Tenebrae vincunt.

“It means ‘In the absence of light, darkness prevails.’”

I jump at the voice and look up to see a bubbly girl with jet black hair and a cute face smiling at me. “Uh… Okay.”

“You must be Rey, I’m Rose and I get to be your student ambassador. I also help out in the office and I saw you were starting today, so I thought I would meet you at the door.” Rose sticks her hand out and I shake it. “Hi, Miss Kanata.”

“Rose…” Maz raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry. Miss Maz.” Rose’s smile doesn’t falter. “It’s the school’s motto. It’s supposed to inspire us to ‘be the good in the world’ or something.” She waves her hand through the air, brushing past the meaning. “Principal Organa is ready for you if you. She’s excited to meet you.”

Rose practically skips away and we follow her, ascending the stairs to an open door that leads to a reception area. Rose walks through the reception center and to an open door near the back. We follow her through and I find myself in a spacious office. Everything is wood and lavender, warm and inviting. Sitting at the desk is an older woman with greying hair, perfectly styled in a braided bun. She’s wearing a tailored blue dress and silver cat eyeglasses on the bridge of her nose. She takes her glasses off as we enter and stands with a smile. “Rey Niima?”

I nod and shake her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Principal Leia Organa. And good to see you again, Maz.” Principal Organa’s smile is warm, inviting. Still, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side. “Rose, thank you. Would you please get Maz the right paperwork and I’ll talk with Rey?”

My stomach flips with nerves again. Principal Organa gestures to the chairs in front of her desk and I sit as Rose and Maz leave. Organa puts on her glasses once more and moves to her computer. “Just a moment, let me pull up your file.”

I sit up straight, on edge as I look around the room. There are bookshelves filled with books and art. An orchid blooms on a windowsill, and I think that the window overlooks a courtyard.

“Here you are. Very impressive Rey. It says that you finished up Trigonometry and English Two, a history class, a social studies class, Earth Science, and computer programming. No language courses?”

“They didn’t exactly offer any,” I say, nervous. “I know a little bit of Spanish. One of my foster families lived in the Hispanic neighborhood of Jakku.”

“Would you like to take a placement test in Spanish?”

I shake my head. “I only know how to say a few things, not read or write.”

“We require three years of language to graduate.” She peers at me over her glasses and I sink in my seat. She turns her gaze back to her computer and clicks a few things. “We will just have to get you all caught up. You can either take an extra summer course or have two blocks of language, it’s up to you.”

“Uh…” I’m completely out of my depth. I’m not even sure if I’ll still be here in the summer, much less what a block is. “What’s a block?”

Principal Organa’s eyes soften. “We run New Republic more like a college than a high school so that you’re prepared when you go to college. It builds responsibility and trust. So, you’ll have some classes that you only have Monday, Wednesday, Friday, or Tuesday, Thursday. Blocks are forty-five minutes. Some of your classes may only take up one block, some two or three.”

College. I shake my head. It was a dream. “Okay. Um… I guess I’ll do two blocks of language.”

“We offer French, Spanish, Russian, and Latin.”

“Latin.” Might as well. Organa smiles.

“So, I’ll mark you down for the junior year history class- Current World Events and most juniors take Psychology unless you’d rather take Religion?” She glances at me and I shake my head. “And, P.E. That’s the basics, the rest have a little wriggle room for what you want to do here. So, tell me about yourself. What are you interested in? What are your plans for post-graduation?”

“Uh… I have no idea what I’m going to do after graduation. I like science and math… Figuring out how things work.”

“Taking things apart and putting them back together?” She asks.

I nod. “It used to get me in a lot of trouble.”

“A little bit of trouble never hurt anyone.” Principal Organa winks. “I want you to meet with our Guidance Counselor. There’s a lot of avenues for girls like you who want to go into STEM fields. For now, since your math and science grades are so high, I’m going to place you in… Pre-Calculus, Physics, and… Small engines.”

I wrinkle my eyebrows. “Small engines?”

“It’s more fun than you think. I’m no good at it, but my husband is, and I think you’ll like him.”

She barely knows me, but okay. “Okay.”

“And last, but not least, I like everyone to take at least one art class. There’s painting, drawing, photography, band, orchestra, choir, sculpture, woodworking… Are any of these peeking your interest?”

“Drawing, I guess.” I had taken a drawing class before. I wasn’t the best at it, but I wasn’t horrible either.

“Okay.” Principal Organa hit a few more buttons. I heard a printer whirl beneath her and she bent down to grab a piece of paper.

“This is your schedule,” she grabbed another sheet of paper as well and handed both to me. “And the second one is a list of all the groups and activities on campus as well as a list of emails for staff and phone numbers for any services you may or may not need during your time here. And my door is always open, Miss Niima. I’m happy to have you here. Rose will handle you from here and show you around to all of your classes.”

I walk out of Principal Organa’s office to find Maz and Rose crackling at the counter. Rose wipes away tears from her eyes and Maz grabs her bag from the counter at the sight of me. “Looks like they got you all ready to go, hun. I’ll pick you up at four unless you let me know differently. You have my number, and Rose will take good care of you.”

I’m a little sad to watch her go. And excited. And nervous. And still trying to process everything. Rose seems nice enough. I usually didn’t get a guide on the first day. Jakku’s schools were more of the ‘fend for yourself’ type. Rose waves good-bye to Maz and turns to me. “You get your schedule?”

“Yeah.” I hand the paper to her and she looks it over, growing more and more excited. “What is it?”

“Lucky for you, we have a lot of the same classes. Both STEM girls.” Rose winks and I blush uncomfortably. “Ugh, I loved small engines. Mr. Solo is so cool.”

“Is that Principal Organa’s husband?”

“Yup!” Rose bounces from around the counter. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour and show you your locker. The assembly doesn’t start for another half-hour.”

I follow her closely out into the halls and it’s completely different from earlier. I can hardly see the school seal there’s so many people rushing back and forth, talking, laughing, hugging. Rose takes my hand and before I know it I’m dragged into the chaos.

“So, you already saw the seal. We’re the Millenium Falcons, established in 1960 by the Skywalker family, of which Principal Organa is descended from. It’s a long history with a lot of drama. This is the freshman wing,” Rose pointed down a long hallway and then to the mirroring one. “And the Sophomore wing. Basically, the founder got killed by her husband and nearly got killed himself, even though he really really loved her and she was pregnant. It’s kinda sad actually. No one really knows the full story.”

Rose pushed through glass double doors and we walked into a courtyard. The sidewalk divided the green into quarters. Every inch of the courtyard was maintained and perfectly landscaped. There was even a fountain in the center. Rose gestured to the wall of the building on her right. “That side houses the gymnasium. There’s a swimming pool and a rock wall and a weight room. Oh, you’ll need to bring tennis shoes for that and stuff to shower with, but they provide a shirt and shorts. The other side,” Rose nodded to the left side of the square courtyard. “That’s where the lunchroom and the art rooms are.”

I follow Rose straight across the courtyard, trying to take it all in. It was so massive, so grand compared to everything I had never known. A pool? Really? I hope they don’t make people swim… I push the thought away. I’ll burn that bridge when I get there. Just survive the first day. We walk through an identical pair of double doors and we’re in the back of the square. It looks almost identical to the front of the building. I can see a parking lot through the windows and rolling forests beyond that. The seal is there again, and it’s crowded with students rushing around.

“Finn! Poe!” Rose dropped my hand and raced towards two guys in varsity jackets. The tall, dark one caught her and swung her into a deep kiss. They broke apart laughing and Rose gave the other a quick hug. His hair was dark and curly, a smirk on his lips. It wasn’t hard to miss the class clown. Rose waved me over. “Rey, this is Finn and Poe.” She nodded to the boy she kissed and the class clown respectively.

“Hi.” I smile and wave shyly. Finn gives me a giant grin and immediately pulls me into a bear hug. “Oh.”

“It’s great to meet you, Rey,” Finn says once he sets me down.

“Diddo.” Poe winks at me and Rose slaps his chest.

“Poe, don’t scare her away. She’s a science girl, too, and I need more girl power in those classes. I’m outnumbered and tired of it.”

“It’s okay,” I laugh. “He doesn’t scare me.”

Finn laughs. “Okay, I like her. Are you giving her the famous Rose Tico tour?”

“I’m trying to, and then I got distracted.” Rose gives Finn a quick kiss on the lips and I blush, looking away. “Save us seats at assembly?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Finn smiles, a man in love.

The people around me are bustling and loud, obnoxious teenagers. I’m suddenly grateful for my newfound friends.

Rose is gesturing down the hall on the right. “That’s the senior hall. You might go in there sometimes, especially in winter to go to lunch. They get really pissed if you’re loud during class time, but you don’t seem like the loud type.”

I smile. No, not really. Loud spaces were difficult sometimes, especially when I was as uncomfortable as I am now. Rose takes my arm and leads me down the last hall. “This is the Junior hall.”

We walk down a hall filled with blue lockers. There’s a door to a classroom about every twenty or thirty feet. Rose looks at my class schedule. “You’re locker 364, not that far from me!”

We find my locker and Rose tells me to leave my bag there. I do, after struggling with the combination for ten minutes. The end of the hall comes to a corner with a staircase and a wall of windows. Around the corner is a door marked Gymnasium. Rose lets me peek in and I can only gape at the two basketball courts, and, beyond that, a huge glass wall. There are treadmills and workout equipment on the top floor, and I get a glimpse of the pool on the first level. Rose drags me up the stairs and I’m in an identical hall as the one below us. More lockers, more classrooms. Rose points out which ones are which, but I know that I’ll forget.

We came to the area where Principal Organa’s office had been on the other side, but here it's a student lounge overlooking the courtyard. There’s a little kitchen area with a vending machine and a microwave and plenty of chairs, couches, and tables for studying. Rose is explaining something about the vending machines when an announcement comes over the speakers. “Will all students and staff please report to the auditorium for the Welcome Back Assembly? All students and staff please report to the auditorium for the assembly. Thank you.”

Rose’s eyes light up as if she lives for assemblies. Maybe she’s just excited to see Finn again. She grabs my arm and power walks me through the hall and down the stairs. We enter the auditorium through double doors and the room is buzzing with noise and excitement. Poe and Finn wave at us from the front of the room.

We join them as the lights dim and Principal Organa comes up on stage. The buzz in the room dies out and she waits for silence. “Hello, New Republic High!”

A riotous cheer echoes through the auditorium and Poe and Finn are whooping beside me. Organa raises her hands and the room quiets once more. “I hope you all had a great summer and are excited to get back to work. I only have a few announcements and then I’ll send you on your way. First, there will be absolutely NO pranks played on the cheerleaders this year, Mr. Dameron.” Her eyes are shooting lasers at Poe.

He gives her a cheerful thumbs up and leans over to me. “I’m planning on the swim team, instead.”

I giggle. Organa’s already moved on to more usual school things. Laptop roll out, schedule questions, where to look for club sign-ups. I should pay attention, but I’m still trying to process everything around me. It’s all so new and crazy. I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing, just have to get through the first day. The first week.

The assembly ends and Rose takes my hand, leading me out the side. First on the agenda, English Comp. We make our way back to my locker and she leaves me for a second to grab her own bag. The hall is filled with students rushing to classes and I cling to my bag, anxiety filling my chest. Rose touches my arm. “I’m not sure what I would do without you. It’s a lot to take in.”

Rose beams. “I got you. It’s exciting having a new friend. My sister went off to college this year, so I’ve been a bit lonely. And it all calms down after the first week. Everyone is crazy trying to figure out their schedules and where they need to be.”

We have English together, then Latin, then Math, then Physics. My stomach is rumbling by the time lunch rolls around and I find myself standing in line with Rose, staring out over the huge bustling lunchroom. “How long do we have to eat?”

“What?” Rose gives me a strange look. “Oh, it’s not timed, really. You just have to make it to your next class on time. Which is… Drawing at two. Nice. So, like, an hour.”

Lunch looks better than anything I had ever been served back on Jakku. For one, it resembles actual food. For another, I get to choose what I want to eat. Maybe I could get used to this. My stomach turns. Maybe I shouldn’t get used to this. I knew how quickly things could get taken away.

When we sit down, Poe and Finn are in the middle of arguing about football, I think. It’s all just sports talk to me. Rose leans over to me, “Don’t worry, I have no idea what they’re saying either. Are you liking your classes so far?”

“Yeah, but I think I’ll need a cart to carry all these books around.” I grin and poke at my peas.

Rose snorts. “Me too. It’s torture. Hey, we should definitely start a study group together. I saw that you have a free block with me Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“That would be great.” A friend! I smile and dig into my chicken.

“Do you think you’re going to join any clubs or anything? There’s A Capella, chess, film…”

I shrug. “I’ve never really been a group person.” Rose gives me the saddest look. “But, I can see. What are you in?”

A giant smile breaks across Rose’s face.

“Oh, now you’ve released the beast.” Finn chuckles, making eyes across the table at his girlfriend.

“So, there’s this group I’ve been wanting to get started.” Rose’s eyes are bright and excited and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s called FEM-STEM for women in science. And we’d be part robotics team, part STEM buds, and it would really just be you and me for right now, but that’s enough to start and I, like, need a Vice President.”

“I would love, too!” There’s a flash of anxiety in my gut as I drop out of the dream for a second. “But I don’t know how long I’m staying here. It’s all so new, you know. But, I’ll definitely think about it. I just want to make sure Maz is like a sure thing. I haven’t had the greatest time with foster parents.”

I finish softly and there’s a soft oh from Rose’s lips. I look up and my eyes connect with his. Dark, brooding, intense. I gasp and look away. I look back up and he’s turned away, head in a book, scribbling, black hair falling over his eyes. I know those eyes… I know them from… Somewhere. I tune back in.

“It’s totally okay. I totally understand. I didn’t mean to bring up-”

“I’ll do it.” I force a smile. Rose squeals and pulls me into a huge hug. What is it with these people and hugs? “I have to talk to Maz first.”

“Oh, Rey. Thank you.” Rose is bouncing in her seat with excitement.

I glance back at him and he looks up at me. Something imperceptible passes across his eyes and he gathers his things to leave. The table he’s at is empty. “Who’s that?”

Poe, Finn, and Rose’s eyes track mine as I watch him leave the giant lunch hall. Poe’s face immediately darkens into anger while Rose and Finn share a knowing look and glance at Poe. Poe takes a deep breath and lets it out. “It’s fine. She’ll find out sooner or later and it may as well be from us.”

Poe’s eyes meet mine and I’m filled with a burning curiosity. He’s immediately on edge, tensed.

“I can’t believe she let him come back.” Rose mutters.

“Well, he is her son.” Finn replies softly. I glance between the three of them confused.

“What happened?”

Rose sighs. Her voice is almost a whisper like she’s telling me a secret. “That’s Ben Solo.”

“Solo?” It sounds familiar but I can’t quite find it amongst the ocean of information that’s been driven into my head today.

“Yeah, Principal Organa and Mr. Solo’s son.” Finn fills in. Suddenly, Poe slams his fist down on the table and the whole cafeteria goes quiet. He stands and walks out. My eyes go wide. Finn grabs both their trays. “I’ll go calm him down.”

The chatter starts up again as Finn leaves. My heart is racing. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something bad. I-“

“No, Rey, it's okay. You didn’t know. You couldn’t have.” Rose’s voice is steady. Calming. “I just wouldn’t bring Ben Solo up in front of Poe again.”

“Yeah, of course.” I poke at the remaining peas on my plate, no longer hungry.

“Poe and Ben… well I think they used to be really good friends as kids. I’m not sure. I moved here in middle school. But as they grew up, well, Poe is really easy to like. And Ben, I guess, not so much. I’m a little fuzzy on the details. But I guess Ben started having a lot of mental health problems and anger issues and I think he got started down the wrong path. No one is really sure, but a lot of people say he might sell drugs or something. And Poe thinks that Ben sold Poe’s twin sister the drugs that Lily overdosed on. And it all kind of culminated at the end of last year when Ben showed up to the funeral. Poe came to school and it was so scary. I’ve never seen him so angry. And he and Ben got into a fight in the courtyard that sent both of them to the hospital. The police got involved. It was horrible. And I guess Ben got shipped off to some reform summer camp. And it’s why Poe can’t play any varsity or junior lacrosse this year.”

“Gods. That’s horrible.” Anxiety knits my stomach. Maybe I should find Poe and apologize.

“Yeah...” Rose wipes away a tear and looks at the time on her phone. “Oh! I should probably get you to your next class. I have vocal so it’s in the same wing at least.”

We discard out trays and walk out of the cafeteria and up a flight of stairs to the Art Hall as Rose called it. There were three art studios on one side of the hall and the orchestra/band room on the other side. Two double doors at the end of the hall were for the balcony seats of the auditorium. I waved goodbye to Rose and she ran off to the auditorium for vocal and for the first time today I’m alone. The classroom looks empty since I’m about ten minutes early so I go in and nearly jump out of my skin.

Ben Solo is sitting in the corner of the classroom at one of the high drawing desks eating an apple. He looks up in surprise as I enter and takes a bite. I can’t get rid of the feeling that I know him from somewhere. But where?

“Sorry… I thought it was empty.” No reply. “Is it okay if I sit in here too?”

His intense eyes regard me carefully. “It’s a free country.”

His voice is deep, gravelly, sensual almost. I… was not expecting that. I pick one of the desks almost directly across from him. He goes back to his work as I take out my schedule and club list, as well as a thick welcome packet Rose had given to me. It’s the first time today I’m able to sit and breathe and think. I let out a deep sigh. First days are the worst.

I feel a tingle on my skin like someone’s watching me and I look up only to see him look back down at his sketchbook. A strand of long black hair falls in front of his face and I catch myself wondering what it would feel like to brush it back.

What the hell, Niima? I look back down at my papers electing to ignore him. He probably just had one of those faces. Besides, if anything Rose said was true, I shouldn’t trust this guy at all. It’s not trust, it's curiosity. Okay, well, then I shouldn’t be curious either. He’s bad enough to make funny, happy-go-lucky Poe Dameron go nuclear.

I glance back up at him and our eyes lock. I don’t know if we’re looking at each other for minutes or hours or just seconds. He moves like he wants to ask me something and the classroom door swings open breaking our trance.

A tall woman struggles through the door carrying a giant armful of drawing pads and utensils. I rush to help her, taking some of her things.

“Oh, thank you, dear. You’re so kind. Yes, just put one on each desk for me.”

I’ve taken a box of boxes of drawing pencils from her. I set to work placing boxes of pencils on my desk, deliberately starting as far away from him as possible. I work my way around the U of desks and come to him. He stiffens as I draw near and dammit he smells good too. I hastily shove a pencil box at him and he takes it. His fingers brush against mine and I gasp, hurrying away from him. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can feel him watching me. I’m so ready for this day to end.

I set the empty box down on the desk and the art teacher is desperately trying to get the overhead projector to turn on.

“Do you mind?” She hands me the remote and I turn on the projector with one click. She laughs and takes it back. “I swear, technology hates me. I don’t recognize you so you must be…. Rey Nemo.”

“Niima.” I smile.

She clicks her tongue. “Yes, that’s what Rose said. Pretty name. I’m Mrs. Tico, the drawing teacher.”

“Rose’s mom?”

She smiles brightly. I can tell where Rose gets her sunshine personality from. “The one and only. I hope my daughter hasn’t scared you off yet.”

There’s a light scoff behind me and I look back to see Ben concentrating very hard on his notebook. Did he know me? Did he recognize me from somewhere, too?

I turn back to Mrs. Tico. “Not at all. She’s been really nice and welcoming. I think it’s the best welcome party I’ve ever had.”

The door swings open and students start to roll in. Mrs. Tico smiles. “Well, we’re more than happy to have you here and I’m delighted to have you as a student, Rey. Maybe you can convince my daughter to take one class with her momma. I sure can’t.”

I laugh and head back to my seat. I don’t catch him looking at me the rest of the block, but for some reason I know he is.

The bell rings, signifying the end of the block and I gather myself. Rose is waiting for me outside the door, a petrified look on her face.

“What?”

“You have class with him? After I told you all that stuff? Oh jeez, I’m so sorry.” Rose's eyes are wide.

I shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Should I mention the staring? The eye contact? The fact that I find him kinda hot? The weird feeling in my chest when he looks at me? Probably not. Probably should just chalk this up to weird teenage hormones.

“So the shop is a bit different. It’s across the parking lot because it has to be a separate building because of building codes or something.” Rose says as we walk through the hall, down the stairs, and through the double glass doors into the back parking lot. We head towards a building made of white tin and Rose drops me off at the door.

“I like your mom, by the way. She seems nice.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool. She keeps wanting me to take art classes but I can’t draw to save my life.” Rose shrugs. “Do you have any plans after school? I usually go to the coffee shop and work on homework or hang out until Finn gets done with practice.”

“That sounds fun. I think Maz wanted to take me shopping for some things tonight though. Maybe some other time?”

“Oh sure! How about tomorrow?” Rose raises her eyebrows. “I mean you can totally say no, but I think it would be fun to hang out outside of school.”

It was hard to not want to be Rose’s friend. She made it so easy. Don’t get attached. She’s just being nice. I pushed the thought out of my head. “Yeah! Tomorrow sounds great.”

Rose beamed. “Sweet! I’ll see you tomorrow then! Bye, Rey!”

I watched her race across the parking lot back to school. I opened the door to the huge white shop and was greeted with a small classroom. A couple tables with benches faced a white board. And in front of the white board, staring at me again was Ben. Why me. Why today.

It looks like I’ve just interrupted a strained conversation between him and the man at the desk. Ben immediately takes a seat near the outside wall of the room. The man at the desk stands and saunters over to me. He’s wearing a white shirt and jeans with grease spots. He’s got greying hair and a twinkle in his eye. “Rey Niima?”

I nod.

“Han Solo, how you doing, kid?” He sticks his hand out and I shake it. I’m trying to put three and three together. The grungy man before me and the polished lady I met earlier and their mysterious son in the corner.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

“Nice to have a girl in here. Maybe it will teach some of these boys a lesson.”

Not sure what that means, but I catch Ben glaring grumpily at the desk in front of him.

“Have you worked with engines before, kid?”

I nod. “A little bit. Kinda. I… Stayed with someone who owned a junkyard and he let me take stuff apart. Mostly I think he just wanted me to learn how to strip cars for parts cause my hands were small.”

Is that too much information? My stomach twists but Mr. Solo seems delighted and Ben is staring at me again. He quickly looks away.

“Oh, yeah, Maz had told me she was fostering a new kid. Look at you. You’ll do fine here. Just pick a seat. We’ll start once the others show up.”

I sit down two rows behind Ben. Try to stare at me now. I smirk. But now you get to be the one who stares. I roll my eyes at my subconscious. It’s curiosity. And hormones. Pure and simple.

By the time I get home that night, I’m completely exhausted from the day and from answering a million questions. The moment I lay down, I’m passed out and dreaming of dark eyes and endless darkness. Flashes of him pass through, fleeting. When I wake in the morning, I can’t remember much of it.

#reylo #ben solo #rey #star wars #reylo fanfic #ben solo deserved better

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starkerfilth · 5 years

Text

hacker!au ; part 2 / starker

Part 1

(have fun reading! you might enjoy listening to ‘no angel’ by charli xcx to this)

"Morning, Dawkins." Tony gave his coworker as nod as he passed his desk. He held a cup of coffee in one hand, a folder in the other.

Mike returned the nod. "Morning, Stark. Hey—come over here for a sec."

"What is it?"

"Just come." The officer's voice was hushed like he didn't want everyone around them to hear.

Tony sighed. He made his way around Dawkins' neatly organized desk.

"So?" He took a sip of his coffee. No milk, a sprinkle of sugar. Just how he liked it.

"Did you hear about the hacker kid?" Mike asked.

Tony raised a brow. "Parker?"

"Yeah."

"What about him? I had him in interrogation yesterday." —Meaning, I'm pretty sure I know whatever you're going to tell me.

"They're gonna let him go."

Tony almost spat his coffee back out.

"They what?"

know,"

Mike muttered. He typed something into his keyboard.

Tony frowned. "Why?"

Mike pointed at his computer screen. He'd typed Peter Parker into the search bar and came up with a clean record. "I don't know. But on here, he's never even been accused of anything."

Tony put his folder down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't get it."

"It's foul play, Stark, I'm tellin' ya."

Tony pressed his lips together.

We'll see about that, Officer, Peter had said.

"Damn right it is," He eventually commented grimly. His fingers drummed on the file he'd put down.

"So what you gonna do? It's your case."

The officer bit his lip. "Looks like I have some ass to kick. Fuckin' rookie criminals." He cleared his throat, picked his folder up and walked to his desk two slots away.

After a few restless minutes, he gave up and marched to the overnight detainment cells.

Bucky was unlocking Peter's cell just as Tony got there. A man in an expensive-looking suit waited on the other side. He was on the phone with someone, defined brows forming a frown.

"Mister Parker." Tony gave the boy a curt nod.

Peter smiled at him as he walked out of the cell as if he owned the building and wasn't held custody in it. Something explosive about the way his lips curled—like he was a bomb just waiting to be ignited. "Hello, Officer Stark. Slept well, I hope?"

Tony gave the businessman another glance. He wasn't looking at Tony, but it was always better to behave like he was being watched.

"Sure," He grumbled.

He quietly stood next to Bucky as Peter was handed his things—a key, a few rings and a pack of chewing gum.

"Peter." The boy's guardian put an arm around his shoulders.

"Hi." Peter looked at the guy almost like he was satisfied—like he was proud—and Tony felt like he was missing something here.

"He hasn't been too much of a hassle, I hope?"

Peter's smile died as soon as his guardian looked away.

Devious little thing.

"He's not much paperwork, that's for sure," Tony couldn't help but comment dryly.

The man gave him an even drier chuckle.

"Let's hope there's no need to meet again." Peter's guardian shook everyone's hands and then swiftly turned around. Peter looked over his shoulder and a gave Tony a cheeky wink. They left without another word.

Once the doors slid closed behind the pair, Bucky exhaled audibly. "What a brat."

---

A dig through the archive revealed that a certain Rick Bellfort, head of the multi-million dollar company Bellfort Co., had adopted a teenage boy a few years ago.

Rick Bellfort was also one of the city's biggest sponsors.

"Fucking rich people," Tony muttered under his breath as he tucked the files back into the folder.

---

Come and find me, Officer, the graffiti read. A boy blowing a gum bubble was drawn next to the words.

Tony felt a crack as he tightened his grip around the flashlight.

"Fucking Parker." He kicked the cobble that covered the ground in front of the hotel. "Fucking Bellfort. That who you work for, huh?" he muttered to himself.

The light roamed across the wall and the floor. The pink paint had dribbled down the bricks like it had been too much, too fast. Tony could still smell the chemical stench in the air.

It took him too long to piece it together.

This was new.

The kid might still be around.

Tony cursed under his breath and swirled around. There had to be traces of footsteps in the cobble—

Or a visible dent with white perking out from underneath.

Tony slipped his leather glove back on and pulled the piece of paper.

Find me where I live like Elizabeth for as many dawns as the sugar allows. — P.P.

Fucking riddles.

Tony crumpled the paper and stomped across the cobble to his car. Je wasn't going to play this little brat's games. There were more serious crimes that needed solving.

And yet. Tony Stark wasn't one to give up.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

"Live like Elizabeth—Elizabeth, who's Elizabeth?"

His eyes darted around. The parking lot. The cobble. The chewing gum. Come and find me.

Queen Elizabeth.

Live like a queen.

"As many dawns as the sugar allows—dawns are nights. As many nights as the sugar allows. As many nights, as many nights..."

What was sugar for a rich kid?

Tony looked around once more. The streetlights. The lights burning in the houses all around. The hotel.

Tony wanted to punch himself. The hotel.

The presidential suite.

Find me where I live like a queen for as many nights as the money allows. — Peter Parker

"Little bitch," Tony spat.

He got out of the car.

The concierge raised his eyes as Tony entered.

The lobby was decorated in decadent blues and silvers. A black Steinway stood on the side. The pattering of a fountain accompanied the low classical music that came from speakers Tony couldn't locate.

His steps echoed through the lobby as he walked up to the concierge.

He cleared his throat. "Hello. I'm—"

"You must be Mister Stark. Mister Parker is waiting for you."

The suit-clad man handed him a gold-plated key card with an intricate design engraved at the top.

Tony cleared his throat again. "Thank you."

What am I doing here? He asked himself as he stepped into the elevator.

He was playing Parker's game. This was all power play. Was he supposed to shuffle the cards again? Or would playing along be the recipe for success? Peter had confessed that he'd hacked the system only after Tony had let him play his game after all. Maybe this was what this was. A thrill, no matter the price. Even if it was a night in a cell or an officer losing his cool.

For Peter, it was calculated fun. For Tony, it was a precarious gamble.

I'll defeat you, Parker. Just you wait.

The elevator music stopped to allow a soft 'ding' as the doors slid open.

There was only one door on this floor.

Tony slid the key card across the scanner. The door opened with a low humming sound.

No going back.

Hand on his gun.

The suite was the most decadent thing Tony had ever seen in front of him.

Deep red and gold adorned every piece of furniture. A chandelier bestowed light onto the entrance area. Shoes with a golden Gucci logo on them laid on an intricately woven mat, one over the other as if they had been tossed.

Tony advanced into the living room area. Gold and red everywhere. Wealth dripping from every inch of the space.

A quiet cough drew Tony’s eyes back up.

And there, silently, stood Peter, so fucking coy, so fucking pretty.

Mesmerized. That was the only way to describe it. Tony was utterly and completely mesmerized by Peter's figure leaning against the pillar, body wrapped in a pink silk robe. There was a slit starting at the waist that revealed lithe, naked legs.

Peter had looked beautiful with bags under his eyes and a grey ensemble when Tony had arrested him, but this—God, like this, Peter was the most beautiful being Tony had ever seen.

And that look of innocence all over his face.

"Hello, Officer."

Tony gulped. His throat was suddenly dry. "Peter Parker."

"I take it you've gotten my message?" Eyelashes fluttering. Pretty, Tony thought. He's devious!, he tried to remind himself. But—God.

Tony blinked. The gun in its holster pressed against his thigh.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything." A playful smile danced around Peter's lips. He took slow, deliberate steps, toes pointed as if he had to walk tip-toed. His hips were in a gentle, natural sway, accentuated by the robe.

The piece of clothing rustled gently with every movement.

"Wait."

There was a small pout on Peter's lips as he turned his head upward to face the officer. "What's the matter?"

The robe stilled shortly after the boy had. Now that he got a closer look, Tony could see glitter on Peter's lips and a trace of lace perking out from underneath the robe.

His mouth watered.

They couldn't be doing this. He couldn't. But Tony's knees were weak, something in his gut sparking warm and wanting.

"Thought so," Peter said. There it was again, that fucking grin. Tony didn't want to admit it, but it was impossible to deny that it ignited a wildfire inside him.

"No, I—" Tony stopped, cleared his throat. Peter's hands slid across the silk to reach for the hems of the robe. A baby pink cord held it closed at the waist. The officer gulped. "I came to—"

Peter's slender fingers—good God, that was pastel pink nail polish—pulled at the cord.

Like in slow motion, the robe fell open.

There stood Peter, in nothing but pink lace panties and the robe, nipples perking up as the semi-warm air hit the boy's chest.

"Fuck," Tony whispered.

Peter's cheeks were red, his cock tenting the lingerie, but under his lashes, he was watching Tony.

"Do you like it?" Peter asked. His lashes fluttered.

Tony caught himself wanting to nod.

Slowly, he started shaking his head.

"Fuck. I'm— I'm on goddamn duty. I came to fucking arrest you, no to fu—"

Innocence gone. The beast came out now. Peter snarled. "But do you want that?"

No.

"Yes."

Peter smiled. Out of all the things he could have done, he smiled. And took another step closer. His robe curled around Tony’s ankle for a moment before falling back.

“Oh, Officer,” The boy muttered, looking up at Tony through his lashes.

Shuffle the cards again, Stark.

Tony’s glance flicked from Peter’s half-lidded eyes to his shimmering lips and back up.

Gently, he cupped Peter’s cheek. The boy leaned into the touch as Tony’s calloused thumb stroked the soft skin. A soft keen left his mouth that had dropped open involuntarily.

“You needed this, hm?” Tony asked, voice low and rough. He dragged his thumb further across Peter’s face until it caught at the boy’s lip. As if on command, Peter’s lips closed around the finger and started sucking. A lovely shade of red blossomed on his face.

Tony chuckled. “Cute,” He said coldly. He pulled the finger from the boy’s mouth (which earned him an adorable little whine) and wiped the spit on his uniform.

“Turn around for me, pet.”

Peter did as he was told. Tony hummed. “Good boy.”

Another one of those delightful sounds from Peter’s throat.

Shuffle the cards. Buy time.

Tony pulled the boy closer until their bodies were pressed against the other. His breath fanned against Peter’s neck. Goosebumps formed where it hit.

“What happened to your lawful obligation, Officer?” Peter asked, a giggle in his voice.

Bluff.

“Honey, I do as I please,” Tony murmured. His hands ran down Peter’s arms, straightening the silk. The boy shuddered under the touch.

“Besides, isn’t this what you wanted?”

Peter’s smile was evident in his voice. “You know me too well, Officer.” He was pliant, now. Way too sure that he had already won. Tony peppered wet kisses on the boy’s neck.

“And how well do you know me?”

His hand trailed Peter’s waist, the kind of touch firm enough to be felt, delicate enough to leave the boy light-headed and wanting more.

“You have no idea,” Peter replied.

Play your Ace.

The handcuffs clicked and closed around Peter’s wrists.

Indignant silence. From the corner of his eye, he sees Peter struggling for words.

"Bitch," The boy eventually huffed. "That's not how it's supposed to go."

Tony smirked. His arms snaked around Peter's waist. "This game has never been fair, sweetheart."

"Fuck, I—"

"Language, dear," Tony chided.

"Don't fucking call me that, who do you—"

Peter's voice faded out as Tony ran a hand across the expanse of his lower belly. The muscles contracted and released, a lovely little shiver rushing over the exposed skin.

"Hm?" he teased, grin pressed into the soft flesh of Peter's neck. "You were saying?"

"I said—God, don't stop, oh—I said don't call me—" The boy squirmed, body pulling into the officer's touch and away from it at the same time.

Tony clicked his tongue. "Don't call you what? Dear? Sweetheart? Honey? Because if I remember correctly, and I always do, you really liked those a few moments ago."

"You have no idea what the fuck I like, sir," Peter spat, but his hips were stuttering as he tried not to rock them up.

The officer laughed coldly. "Then why are you still calling me sir like the little slut you are? You're rutting your hips like a bitch in heat and I didn't even touch your pathetic little cock."

Peter made a wretched sound in the back of his throat.

"You like that, huh?" Tony murmured, greedy for more of those pitiful noises. His hands grazed the insides of Peter's thighs and the dips of his waist, never going where the boy really wanted him to. "Like it when I call you my little whore? All dressed up for me to ruin you, weren't you?"

The boy was nothing short of a mess, body melting into Tony's hold, whimpers escaping his open mouth.

"Use your words," He ordered.

"Stop ah-asking questions, just touch me," Peter urged.

Tony hummed, satisfied. "As you wish." He slid a hand across the supple flesh of Peter's thigh and finally cupped Peter's clothed cock with his big palm.

The boy's head dropped back and onto Tony's shoulder in a loud moan.

There was already a damp spot where Peter's cock tented the lingerie. Tony circled that spot with his thumb, relishing the pretty sounds the boy made right into his ear. "Fuck, da— mh, oh—" The boy brabbled, barely coherent.

"That's right..." Tony muttered, squeezing Peter's clothed cock, coaxing all the prettiest sounds out of him.

Peter's breathing got even heavier, lashes fluttering, so Tony finally slipped his hand into the panties. He collected the precum that had collected at the tip and used it to stroke the boy's cock, pace fast and unrelenting.

With another twist of his wrist, he drove Peter over the edge, drawing a carnal sound right from his chest. The ropes of cum dirtied the lingerie and Tony's hand, but he couldn't care less, milking the boy's climax for all it was worth, soaking up all the delicious sounds, whispering praise into Peter's ear.

He only let go when the boy whimpered from the overstimulation. The heavy breathing calmed and Tony helped Peter stand up straight again.

"Those handcuffs are tight," The boy complained.

Tony shook his head disapprovingly. "You're still coming to the station with me."

"I—what?" Peter turned around, looking appalled.

"You heard me. Don't think I forgot what you planned. Let's get you cleaned up."

Tony led Peter to the spacious bathroom. He wiped the cum off of both of them, ignoring his own aching hard cock.

"But—why?"

Tony clicked his tongue. "Would you really call this a punishment for what you did?"

The boy stayed silent.

"Exactly."

---

— Tony had thought that after that night, Peter would be satisfied and go after normal rich kid hobbies, like golfing or gambling.

But four weeks later, after the dreams of Peter's scrunched-up, blissed-out face slowly started fading, he got a call.

Vandalism. Manhattan. Bellfort's factory walls.

And Peter Parker crying in their questioning room.

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

hi! part 2 is finally up, i hope it lives up to expectations ;;. i had so much fun while writing this, their dynamic is just drool-worthy oh god. i’ll probably make a third part to explore this whole thing a little more !! tell me what you think.

taglist: @plueschpop @believe-that-001 @this-starker-hoe @areluctantsblog @pleasedontfollwme

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #hacker au #starker fanfic #i uhhh just kind of went feral with this #this is 2k+ words sksk #cheeky peter? gets reduced to a whimpering mess by a really hot tony?? fuck yes #this is so self indulgent #i also didn't really reread this yet so if there's typos..oops #anyways hope u enjoyed #your reblogs and comments make me really happy uwu

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heartau · 5 years

Note

yuta + vampire au?

hello hello! i’ll be writing this in bullet point form because ive got really bad writers block :( !!

warnings: smut, various mentions of explicit gore, mentions of death and one mention of suicidal tendencies (not romanticizing though bc thats gross!)

work title: flame

being alive for more than a century can take quite it’s toll on you, even more so if you’ve spent the last 300-something years mourning over the death of a partner who carried half of your heart’s soul within them.

the scene has been iterating constantly in nakamoto yuta’s mind ever since the scene had occurred in front of him, in the middle of a battlefield, the year 1784.

the first vampire war, just a few years after he was first turned into one of them; a monster.

it was mortifying to him, the lack of bloodshed that stained the fields juxtaposed the mountain of beheaded bodies that eclipsed disarrayed towers.

tableaus of his lover’s head being sliced from their neck with just the flick of a specific blade, the killer’s face, of whomst housed flames in her eyes laughing as if it were a victory, flash in his mind before he shakes his head to rid of the frightening memories, focused on balancing himself atop the rooftop of his apartment building.

it’s the year 2019 and he lets out a sigh into the cool march air as he watches the cars and people littering streets below him continue on about their evening.

even if he were to jump, he’d only survive - vampires are cursed with immortality, no matter what they were to do to achieve the afterlife, they’ll only wake up alive and their bodies regenerated, as if nothing ever happened to it.

they stay in the same form since the moment they were bit.

“greetings, your highness,” his roommate’s voice causes him to turn towards his direction. “i have acquired some devastating information to bear.”

“stop talking like that, taeyong,” yuta mutters, swinging his legs over the ledge. “it’s 2019, people are gonna think you’re a weirdo.”

when the vampire war of 1784 came to its conclusion, yuta was victor, having savaged the remaining humans after watching his lover’s beheading; thus, he was brought to reign.

and he’s been reigning ever since.

reigning over what, exactly? who knows.

taeyong, his royal messenger (now, technically, one of his roommates), is one of the only vampires that he knows of these days.

“your highness,” taeyong cocks his head to the side. “i’m afraid i do not comprehend what you mean.”

yuta lets out a sigh. “never mind,” he mutters. “what’s the news?”

“i’m sure you are familiar with the blade of bloodlust?” taeyong says, and a jolt of pain goes through yuta at the mention of the weapon that was used to kill his lover. “it’s been stolen.”

“what do you mean?” asks yuta, furrowing his brows.

“it’s been stolen.” taeyong repeats.

“yes, i heard you the first time,” yuta lets out another sigh. “what do you mean it’s been stolen? isn’t it under heavy guard at the historical archives?”

he recalls the two muscular vampires who stood guard at the iron doors that housed the blade - surely no one can get past them both, with their burly arms and tall statures.

“it was, yes,” taeyong lets out a sigh as he pushes up the thin-lensed glasses perched atop his nose. “but upon visiting with doyoung this morning for further inquiries, we had found the bodies of both jung jaehyun and suh johnny. both bodies beared no head.”

yuta stood up from the cement ledge with widened eyes - if his heart were still beating, it would be thumping at a million miles per second at hearing this.

“so what you’re telling me is…” yuta’s voice is shaking.

he had rid of all the humans capable of holding that blade in 1784 by tearing them apart limb to limb and painting the cobblestone streets with their velvet ichor, bent upon mutilating them to the best of his abilities after what they had done to his lover.

there’s no way that a vampire hunter would still exist in the year 2019.

taeyong nods once. “a vampire hunter has been reborn, your highness.”

later that night, after discussing more on the matter with taeyong and doyoung, his royal strategist, he couldn’t bare to keep himself within the walls of his apartment.

the blood bags that he kept in the dodgy refrigerator in the kitchen were all gone, thanks to the recently turned teenager named mark lee, whom doyoung had bitten out of spite after the teen successfully tripped him as a dare by his friends.

“maybe if you calmed down a bit, we wouldn’t be out of our only life source right now, doyoung.” yuta scolds his strategist, who only rolls his eyes in response.

once upon a time, the man used to heed yuta’s word; the title of king was still a blessing those days. nowadays, as they settle into modernized settings, it would be a rare morning to hear the words “king” slip from doyoung’s lips.

“yeah,” mark says from the corner of the run down apartment. “what he said.”

“do you want me to go get some more food or something? i’ll break into a farm if that’s what you want. animal blood is just the same.” doyoung says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“no,” yuta sighs, slamming the door of the refrigerator closed. “i want you and taeyong and mark to stay here. there’s a vampire hunter on the loose and the three of you could survive against one.”

“and what are you gonna do?” doyoung quirks an eyebrow. “kill a random person on the street? what if they’ve got a family to come back to?”

“which is why i’ll find a criminal or something,” yuta mutters. “stop talking to me like that, doyoung. i’m your king, remember that.”

“right,” doyoung says. “king of the last ten vampires roaming the earth.”

yuta rolls his eyes before slamming the door closed, pulling on his suede jacket as he walks down the halls of the apartment complex.

they reside in the dodgy part of the city, so finding a criminal to bring home as food will be an easy task.

yuta walks the cool streets with his hands buried in the pockets of his suede jacket, eyeing every person who passes him by.

a group of giggling women, obviously having just left the bar down the street - harmless. yuta continues to walk.

a man standing on the stairs leading into an apartment complex, holding flowers behind his back, probably picking up his date - also harmless. yuta continues to walk.

a group of highschool boys cackling as they dash down the cemented streets, probably up to no good - a bit questionable, but they were all just highschool boys, so harmless. yuta continues to walk.

yuta continues to walk until he reaches the edge of the town, the rich skyscrapers of the high end districts letting him heave a sigh before pivoting on his heel to go back to his apartment and to let doyoung break into a farm.

but before he’s able to give doyoung the greenlight, he hears whimpering deriving from deep within a dark alley way.

the sound causes him to perk up, effortlessly stealthy when he walks to where he hears the sound.

“please,” he hears a shaking voice. “if you wanna rob me then go for it, just, please, don’t take my necklace.”

he looks around the corner and sees a tall, burly man dressed in all black cornering a sobbing girl, you, holding your purse in front of your body. from the looks of your outfit, you must have also just left from the bar down the street - but as yuta sniffs that air, he smells no alcohol coming from you.

“crying’s not gonna do anything, lady,” the robber gruffs. “give me your fucking necklace or else i’ll take it off your neck after i blast your head off.”

that sentence lets another sob wreak through you as you fall to your knees, clutching your bag tightly. “please, this necklace is special to me.”

“and? i don’t give a shit.” the robbers mutters, digging for something in his back pocket. the lights coming from the entrance of the alleyway reveals the outline of a gun. “i don’t got time for this, bitch making me wa-”

his sentence is cut off by silence, you hear the dull engine of a car passing by just down the alley way. you open your eyes, expecting to look down the barrel of a gun, only to see a different man standing in front of you.

“are you okay?” the voice is gentle and velvet when you hear it, looking up to see a kind face peering down at you. his hand was outstretched, offering to help you up.

“where did he go?” you question him.

“who?” his voice sounds slightly dejected, but still remains kind.

you take his hand hesitantly as he helps you up to your feet, heels wobbly as you find your balance. you rack your mind for words to say, but you can’t seem to find the correct ones for your situation.

“you should get home,” the man gives you a therapeutic smile. “it’s a strange town, it’s unsafe this time of night.”

you stare at him for a few seconds more, truly unable to form words, and you nod tightly. “but wait.” a beat. you search his eyes, they seemed to be glowing with a red flame. “who are you?”

but before the sentence escapes your lips, the man is gone.

that night, you went home with shaking hands and the lingering memory of the man with the burning flame in his eyes.

“taeyong,” yuta asks as he take a swig of his blood-filled cup.

the four of them, yuta, doyoung, taeyong and mark, are seated on the floor of the rundown apartment, feasting on the blood of the criminal that yuta had taken down.

taeyong turns his head towards him, setting his own glass down on the coffee table. “can mates be reborn?”

taeyong cocks his head to the side. “what are you inquiring, your highness?”

“i met a woman tonight,” yuta toys with the edge of his glass cup. “when i looked into her eyes, they held… a familiar fire.”

taeyong grows silent for a second as if he were pondering.

“your highness, there is a first time for everything.”

the next time yuta encounters you, it is during his day job as a barista at a local cafe.

(someone has to pay the bills; taeyong would freak out customers with his medieval speak, doyoung would quit after one squabble with a customer, and mark is still too recently-born to control his bloodlust.)

“hey, you’re the-” “can i take your order, miss?”

your eyes make their way to his nametag: yuta.

“yes, yuta,” you say, sharpening your eyes at him. “i’d like one tall iced caramel macchiato, and i would also like to speak to you when your shift is over.”

when yuta’s shift ends, your cup is already empty, finding solace in the screen of your phone. “you wanted to talk?” yuta asks, pulling up a seat next to you.

you waste no time. “who are you?”

“huh?”

“who are you? how did you know i was in trouble last night? where did that man go? he seemed to disappear into thin air.”

yuta lets out a sigh as he leans onto his elbows on the wooden table in front of you. his eyes are searching into yours, a wry smile taking over his face. for a second, even you felt a little inferior underneath his gaze but you quickly snap back to your usual gait.

“are you going to answer me or are you just gonna smile at me like that?”

“actually,” yuta says. “go on a date with me, and then i’ll tell you what happened.”

you roll your eyes. “and how do i know you’re not planning to do whatever you did with that guy to me?”

a grin stretches on his face. “i’ll take you out someplace where a lot of people are,” he says before putting his hand on top of yours. an electric spark seemed to erupt from your touch which caused his smile to widen. “trust me.”

and he did just that.

you and yuta’s first date took place at an amusement park - at first it started off with you nagging for him to tell you what really happened during the incident but you soon forgot about the entire incident the moment you screamed at the top of your lungs when the rollercoaster dropped. you spent the rest of the date clinging onto him as he dragged you from ride to ride and winning you multiple toys.

after, he took you back home and you promised to let him take you out again.

you and yuta’s second date took place at a simple 80’s themed diner, in one of the better spots of your town. as the neon lights flicked onto yuta’s skin and seemed to set his eyes even more ablaze, you sipped on your strawberry milkshake as you listened to him ramble about the daily occurrences he has to face.

you quickly forgot the reason why you even began to let yuta take you out when he kissed you on your doorstep, that night.

“your highness,” taeyong knocks on yuta’s door, one night, a few months later. “doyoung and i would like to speak with you about something.”

yuta turns his gaze from the book he was reading to his royal servants, one of whom remained loyal to him all these years. “yeah, come in?”

taeyong walks in, standing opposite to taeyong while doyoung lazily sits on yuta’s bed, crossing his legs. they both stay quiet for a while, and yuta furrows his brows confusedly.

“what is it?”

“i’m sure that you’ve noticed that mark hasn’t been coming out of his room for the past few months,” doyoung says, raising an eyebrow. “any reason?”

yuta ponders for a moment and then shakes his head. “no?”

“your highness,” taeyong sighs. “you’ve been arriving home with the stench of human blood for the past months. it’s absolute torture for the young boy. he’s just turned recently, so his senses are heightened.”

yuta closes his book. “he was turned a year ago, he should be fine by now,” yuta mutters, already deciding to dislike the topic of conversation. “why, do you guys have a problem with it too?”

“if you’ve got a blood bank, share it with us,” doyoung says, matter-of-factly. “i know you’ve been going out to get your share of blood, and the scent is fucking delicious, and we need it.”

yuta scoffs. “i don’t have a blood bank, doyoung,” he says. “although i don’t know why you’re acting as if i’d share it with you. maybe if you continued to be loya-”

“there you go again with your loyal shit,” doyoung groans. “there are only a few more vampires left on this earth and you’ve barely done anything to track down the hunter that’s been on the loose for the past few months. last i heard, qian kun and his coven were wiped out in beijing just last week. why would i be loyal to you if you haven’t been loyal to us? arent you supposed to be our king?”

“doyoung,” taeyong sighs. “that’s enough.”

“doyoung,” yuta stands up, towering over doyoung. “i tore apart every single vampire hunter with my own two hands, to the point where their existence were wiped out for more than a century. if it wasnt for me, your corpse would be buried in the ground without a head.”

doyoung stands. “you tore them apart nearly a century ago,” his voice grows louder. “you tore them apart a century ago and thats the only thing you’ve got underneath your belt to remain king but guess what!? there’s a new hunter! and they haven’t been killed yet! and if they fucking find us, yuta, the existence of vampires will be gone.”

“maybe that’s what should be,” yuta mutters. “we’re monsters.”

“are you saying you’d rather be human scum than to be immortal?” doyoung widens his eyes. “that you’d let a fucking vampire hunter win over your own kind?”

“doyoung, that’s enough.” taeyong stands in front of doyoung before the jet-black haired man could say anything more. “your highness. whoever the person you’ve been meeting is, they’re not worthy of your admiration. i beg of you to end it now before our coven is in danger.”

when yuta shows up on your doorstep, the flame behind his irises seem to burn deeper than how they usually do.

“oh, hey babe,” you say, as you let him in. your apartment was in disarray, clothes strewn everywhere. “sorry for the mess, i was just unpacking my stuff from my trip to ch-”

“i need you.” yuta nearly growls, backing you into the wall. your jaw becomes slack as you widen your eyes when your back meets the wall, his lips coming into contact with yours in a flurry of desperation.

when he pulls away for air, he’s panting, pressing his forehead against yours.

“babe, what’s gotten into you?” you ask him, half amused, half turned on.

“i just miss you a lot,” he says, peppering your neck with kisses. “i was lonely here while you were having fun abroad.”

you let out a moan when you feel him nip at one specific spot in the crook of your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to lightly sooth the pain. “well, you’re not lonely now.”

sex with yuta is not only physically draining, but emotionally as well - each time you find yourself entangled in your bedsheets with him, he’d let out all the emotions that he’d been facing the past few days, as if he were yearning for a clean slate at the end of it.

and while he lets out those emotions, he ends up being needy, which makes him rough - even while he kisses you tenderly, you can’t help but scream every time his hips snap back into yours.

even now, while you hover above him, arching your back as you letting out screams of pleasure while he thrusts his cock inside of you again and again from underneath, watching your face contorted in bliss although you’re sure that your neighbours have grown sick of hearing the two of you at times like these.

he pulls you back down towards him, hands fumbling when he flips the two of you over as he continues to rut into your hips while he cups your face to kiss you in an effort to mute your moans, but even then, knowing how far you break just because of what he does to you fuels his ego.

“you gonna cum baby?” yuta growls, pinning your hands down to your side as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head. “you gonna cum from my cock?”

“fuck, yes, yuta!” you mewl, voice broken and hoarse from screaming all night. “keep going, k-keep going.”

you feel his cock reaching deeper and deeper inside of you as if he were planning to leave a mark within you, your bed beginning to move with his hips as it squeaks with every thrust. a few more ruts and you feel the familiar knot appearing in the pit of your stomach, your walls tightening around him as you feel the burning need to scream his name form in your throat once more.

“yuta!” you scream, unable to grasp at anything for support due to his hands pinning your entire body down, the feeling inside of you grows more intense. “i’m gonna cum! i’m gonna fucking cum!”

“cum for me baby,” he mutters, hips snapping in and out of you. “cum for me and scream my name. tell your neighbours who owns this dirty little cunt. tell your neighbours who fucks you so good.”

and you do, back arching off your mattress as you cum, lewd words stringed with his name escaping past your lips. the sight alone is enough to push yuta over the edge as well, littering your stomach with white as he pumps himself onto you.

for the next few seconds, you lay in bed in order to recollect yourself as well as to let the numbness slow down between your legs. yuta, however, pulls the sheets over him before he drops his legs to the floor, now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“yuta,” you grab his hand. “come lay with me.”

he stays silent for a while, and you hear him gulp. “(y/n), i have to tell you something.”

you furrow your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue, pulling the sheets over your naked body.

“i,” he stammers. “i can’t keep lying to you.”

“what do you mean?”

“when we first met, that man who tried to attack you,” he whispers. “i… i did something to him.”

there is a beat in the air before he keeps talking.

“i heard you crying, and so i went there, and i saw you and… you just felt so familiar to me. and i had to save you, so i killed that man and,”

he puts his face in his hands.

“(y/n), i’m a monster. i’m a monster and you shouldn’t love me.”

“why, yuta?” you whisper as you sit up to move closer to him.

“because, that man… i killed him and drank his blood,” his whispers. “(y/n),”

“yes, yuta?” you get up off the bed.

“i’m a vampire.”

the air between the both of you is silent for only a second, yuta screwing his eyes shut as he braces the impact of you possibly not believing him and laughing in his face, or of you screaming in fear before begging him to leave your house and to never see him again.

he fears for the worst, hoping that whatever happens, the least hurtful comes to truth.

but while his eyes are screwed shut, he does not hear you at all - he does not smell you, he does not feel your presence.

he only opens his eyes when he feels the cool, sharp metal against the skin of his neck. he gasps when his eyes meet yours - the same flames burning in your irises, but now they burn clearer.

you never housed the eyes of his lover.

you housed the eyes of his lover’s killer.

you smile at him sweetly while you press the blade of bloodlust against his skin.

“your highness,” you whisper. “it’s nice to see you again.”

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nightklok · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/?  Fandom: Descendants (Disney Movies)  Rating: Teen And Up  Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Gil/Jay (Disney: Descendants)  Characters: Gil (Disney: Descendants), Jay (Disney), Audrey (Disney: Descendants), Carlos de Vil, Celia Facilier, Dizzy Tremaine, Harry Hook, Uma (Disney)  Additional Tags: Volunteering at an animal shelter, Fluff, Light Angst, Implied abuse, Implied animal abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added  Summary: (¼ of an anon’s request of Jay getting Gil a pet. After a year of traveling around the world and settling down in Auradon, Jay and Gil decide to volunteer at an animal shelter. A particular cat catches Gil’s eyes. Chaos ensues.

#Descendants #Descendants fanfic #Descendants fanfiction #Jay Descendants #Gil Descendants #Jay and Gil Descendants #Jay and Gil #Descendants Jay X Gil #Jil #Coffee Writings #jay x gil

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hecallsmehischild · 5 years

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Recent Media Consumed

Movies

Secret Obsession. There was not a lot of subtlety to this movie. Thanks to the trailer you know who’s the bad guy and who’s the red herring right off the bat. Also the bad guy is… pretty incompetent. But maybe that’s the point? Not all bad guys are super good at what they do?

Chappie. You know, years ago when I saw the trailer I went, “This one’s going to hurt if I watch it. Badly.” I was not wrong.

Room. Dropped this. Not because it was bad, but because there’s some darkness that costs too much to keep watching.

Caspian. WOW. So, my hazy impression from my first couple of watches eons ago was, “Eh, it departed some from the book but kept the heart of it.” I JUST finished reading Caspian for the first time in years and then I JUST watched Caspian and it is no small divide. Disappoint.

Jupiter Ascending. Feels like this movie was made with costume changes and space battles as its focal points. It was okay, but felt like a lot of cliches and blandness to me. Didn’t make sense of itself a lot. Eye candy time killer. Though I would say certain characters and their absolute camera chewing might make it worth the watch.

My Life as a Zuchinni. Sweet. Sweet film.

Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus. *deep breath* Just watch it. Just. Watch. The beauty. And appreciate the magnitude of what we got.

Anime

Wolf’s Rain. From the early days of my anime watching. I used to think it was the pinnacle of animes. Now I’m… sure this could have been explained a lot better. Not a lot makes sense. It’s good for a nostalgic watch but it’s not... good... if you know what I mean. Interestingly enough when I went looking for it, I found episodes I hadn’t seen and episodes I had seen with content I hadn’t seen. So did I somehow watch some kind of heavily edited or abridged version as a teenager? Anyway, I got new content I hadn’t seen before, but it made no more sense this time than last time. In fact it raised MORE questions and gave me no answers.

Made In Abyss. THE CUTENESS IS A LIE. ALSO I FIND OUT THIS SERIES ISN’T THE END, THERE’S MOVIES STILL TO COME? WHY IS IT SO???

Fanfiction

Wash My Hands of It by 007Awesome (MSA). Fairly solid writing and I’m interested to see where the writer takes their concept, one of Lewis going to each member of the group individually when they fail to show up at his mansion.

Distance in Time by Sagartolen (MSA). HNGH. HNGNNNGH. Okay. So, some of the writing aspects could use some work, but the emotional impact and detailed style and WRENCHING storytelling carried me up and over typos and tense shifting. Like, it didn’t bother me or hang me up like it normally would have, that’s how well this author sucked me in. I didn’t realize time travel fix-its were a thing in this fandom though I really should have known that, and now that everything has gone to hell for the gang a second time I am hooked to the gills, waiting tensely for an update.

Family Photo by Galactics_SinBin (MSA). A really sweet oneshot delving into some Lance POV.

Exposure Therapy by TtotheCofA (MSA). A oneshot exploring some of the interference of the group’s cave trauma. The three investigators have different scars from that night, this is a good exploration of those scars.

Brute Force for that Head of Yours by 1FrozenRutabega (MSA). Oneshot exploring a situation where Arthur has hoarded pills for a specific reason, and Lance catches him. Solid Lance characterization, the interactions feel pretty real too. Enjoyable read.

On Deck: Yeah I’m just going through the MSA fanfictions on AO3 right now. I realize I haven’t done nearly enough digging in my two favorite fandoms because I’ve been so consumed with writing for years. Time to dig around and give back (and refill the well by reading). I think I’m on page six of the archive now.

Books

STILL trekking along with The Wandering Inn and now the third book in that series I was reading and STILL not done with either one yet and they’re STILL really good. They’re just freaking long.

#child loves books #child loves fanfiction #child loves movies

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

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I was rewatching the First Wife episode and thought what if Claire returned to Jamie on that Hogmanay just before he met Joan and Marsali?

Hogmanay:

Cuddling Brianna to her chest, Claire hunkered down under the arch of the inclining rock that shielded them from the baltic breeze. It was fast approaching the turning of the year and she was eager to get to Lallybroch - mostly to get Bree out of the freezing cold Scottish winter.

“It’s alright, darling,” Claire whispered, pulling her cloak closer around her teenage daughter’s shoulders, “we’re not far away now.”

“You’re such a fuss.” Bree muttered, her teeth chattering as the wind whipped through the small valley. “I told you I wanted to come, I can cope with a British breeze. Just promise me we can eat something more appetising than rock hard bread once we get there - I don’t think my teeth can cope with much more.”

“Hopefully we will, if Jenny isn’t feeling too apprehensive about letting us in, that is.” Claire muttered her memories of Janet Fraser Murray coming in fits and starts as the sound of hooting owls echoed overhead.

As the night wore on, Bree fell asleep, her chest rising and falling gently against Claire’s side as she snuggled against her mother. Claire, however, found it utterly impossible to doze off with her impending task hovering over her. The year previously Frank had left her for his mistress taking Brianna with him. Only months later, Bree had returned to Boston with a small bag of belongings and a fistful of documents pertaining to one James Fraser.

Claire had been floored, she hadn’t expected to hear Jamie’s name come from Bree at all never mind hear that he’d lived through Culloden.

Not wanting to stir the pot and with a new incentive to reconnect with her daughter, Claire hadn’t asked Brianna what had caused her to leave Frank and Sandy in Oxford. Instead the pair flew to Scotland threw themselves into searching the archives. She had then, over time, explained the whole story to Bree - mostly whilst knee deep in dusty museum cellars - and, as her heart beat with renewed purpose, had invested much more than time in finding even the slightest mention of Jamie in the ancient documents housed in some of Scotland’s most sacred places.

As dawn broke the wind subsided a little and the fresh sunrise reminded Claire of the morning they’d found Jamie’s pardon, Buried deep in a book of indentured servants dating from the wrong century nonetheless, it had been Brianna who had pulled the wilting paper from underneath the torn back page of a thick book that had once belonged to the Dunsany family of Helwater somewhere in Cumbria. What it was doing in a *Scottish* archive, Claire didn’t know, but she was incredibly grateful that it had ended up there. Just as the sun flitted through the trees, the bright red flickering through the bows, she recalled -vividly- the scent of mulch as the daylight penetrated the old backroom and a smile grew over Bree’s face until they were clinging to one another, fresh tears running down their faces as relief coursed through her.

But now as well as relief she felt apprehension.

“Don’t fret, mama,” Bree whispered, sitting up, cracking her back and yawning wildly as she woke slowly, “he’s going to be so pleased to see you. I just know it.”“Are you certain?” She asked, her voice low as she brushed a stray leaf from Bree’s hair.”It’s been eighteen years, Bree. He survived a war that wiped out all of his kinsmen, became an outlaw, got sent to prison and then sent to live as an indentured servant. He’s lived the life of three men in that time, what if I don’t fit into his world anymore?”

“You said he was the love of your life, mama.” She said confidently. “I have to believe that he felt the same way as you do, and you’ve never stopped loving him, have you?”

“Well…” Claire muttered, “...no.”

“Then he will still love you. I guarantee it. And we’re going to go to Lallybroch, the both of us, and make his hogmanay. Yes?”

“Yes, yes we are.” Claire sighed, smiling more easily now as she shimmied out of their temporary bed finally ready to walk the final few miles to Lallybroch.

Plumes of smoke rose on the horizon as the sun finally set leaving Claire and Bree in darkness once more. It had been a challenging day and one wrong turn had lost them a couple of hours as they tried to find their way back onto the right track. It hadn’t helped that all of the scenery looked the same. It had been too long since Claire was here last and she couldn’t really recall the way. Bree, however, had smuggled a tiny home-made map in her pockets and she’d managed to get them back on track but not in time to make it to Lallybroch before night fell.

“Is that it?” Bree said as the house appeared in front of them. It was well into the night by the time the two story brick building could be seen but the lights that danced in the windows was enough to guide the women forwards.

“Yes, it bloody well is!” Claire exclaimed happily, her strides getting quicker now as they forged their way forwards.

It was only as Claire and Brianna skipped along the drive that they began to hear the joyful sounds of the party within the big house and Claire stopped mid-step.

“Come on, mama, we’re so close. We can’t stop now!” Bree said, panting as the fast pace of their walk towards Lallybroch finally caught up to her.

“We can’t burst in during the middle of their celebrations. He might not even be in there, what will we do then?”

“You’re stalling. If he isn’t there, then Aunt Jenny will tell us where he is. If we can’t go to him, I’m sure she’ll send a message.”

“I never got a chance to even say goodbye to her, Bree. When I left - when Jamie sent me back - it was only hours before Culloden. Either way, surely she thinks I’m dead. If I just burst in now - in the middle of their hogmanay celebrations - not only will I give her and Ian a heart attack each, but I’m sure she’ll be angry that I’ve lived this whole time and haven’t been in touch.”

“Fuck it, mama,” Bree cursed quietly, nudging Claire gently in the side, “I get it, I do, but I doubt she’ll kick you out. Of course she’ll be shocked. But there’s loads of people in there, too many for her to make a massive scene.”

“Then you can get between us if you’re wrong.” Claire quipped sounding stronger than she felt.

Taking Claire by the hand in a role-reversal which left Brianna feeling more like the adult in the situation, she led Claire up towards the front door. Turning the handle carefully, she pushed the old front door inwards and pulled her mama into the small hallway. Lallybroch smelt glorious, the heat merging with the scent of fresh food as Bree snuck further into the house with Claire in tow.

Claire’s corset suddenly felt stifling, the stiff ribbing digging into her ribs as she tried to remain upright.

The room blurred as a sudden influx of people surrounding her as a train of giggling children separated her from Brianna and she wrapped her arms around her waist. Claire had yet to spot anyone she knew, but she kept her head up as she shook the fear from her shoulders and wiped the moisture from her eyes. Brianna was now nowhere to be seen, her bright red hair swallowed up in the mass of auburn that filled the room.

Her heart almost stopped in her chest as she turned to catch sight of her daughter, her hands animatedly flying around her face as she laughed and chatted happily to none other than Ian Murray. Just as she was about to take a step towards them, her reticence all but gone, Claire glanced to her left her gaze drawn to the solitary figure that lingered just beside the staircase.

“Jamie.” She whispered, her palms sweating as she swallowed back the bile that rose along her throat as the sight of him.

As if the weight of her saying his name (although there was no way he could have heard her from where he was stood) caught his attention, Jamie looked up and across at Claire, hie hand rising, unconsciously, to rest over his chest as he swivelled, his knees almost buckling as he did so.

“Claire…?” He mouthed, his lips trembling as tears glistened across the bottom of his eyes.

“Jamie!” Claire said, louder this time as she stepped to the right, moving aside to let a few more guests by.

Mumbling incoherently -possibly in Gaelic- Jamie launched himself forwards, sashaying from left to right as he dodged the groups loitering in the main gangway. “Claire, is that you? Is it truly you?” He rasped, his hands shakily rising as they finally met, coming face to face for the first time in eighteen years.

“You’re alive.” Claire stated, taking his fingers against hers as she rested his palm over her glowing cheek.

“Aye,” he said, biting his lip to keep himself from falling at her feet, “I am. And yer here.”

“I am.” She replied calmly. “D-did you miss me?” She said, feeling more like a teenager than the mother of one.

Eschewing the traditional response, Jamie nodded, licking his lips as he bent to kiss her, the immediate brush of his mouth against hers causing his heart to stutter in his chest as he pulled her gently to the side. “Oh God, yes,” he sighed, sweeping Claire artfully back towards the dark comfort of the small gap between the stairs at the doorway to the dining room, “so much I could barely breathe, sassenach.”

#;Mod MBD #Hogmanay AU #Jamie X Claire

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subfunctions · 6 years

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Horizon Zero Dawn OC: Yara

Inspired by 1) my theory that at least one other subordinate function has probably found a human to buddy up with and 2) my theory that MINERVA will be the first subordinate function to emerge as an ally to Aloy.

Loosely inspired by these lines of “The Mountain Poem: Words Spoken in Contemplation” by Ibrahīm Ibn Khafāja, following the lines you can find in Metal Flower Mark II (F):

And through the night, that tongueless mountain uttered marvelous things: "How much more time in space? How long have I been the assassin's safehouse And sheltered hermits from the human race?"

But mostly just an exercise in character creation, as in: if I had the task of creating a character to be the human partner and counterpoint to a subordinate function, what would that character be like?

My other self-appointed parameters were to create someone who’s a bit of a foil to Aloy and Sylens both, so: someone who chose isolation rather than being subjected to it, and someone whose interest in knowledge is specialized rather than general, while maintaining a moral compass.

(face claim: Grace Mahary)

Name: Yara Gender: Female Tribe: Utaru Age: 23 at time of main game

Notable Physical Traits: Though Yara keeps prominent Utaru elements in her attire, her usual outfit is a practical mixture of Utaru and Banuk styles, something she’s put together to guard against the months of cold in the home she’s settled in. Due to contracting polio as a child, her right leg is stunted and partially paralyzed; she walks with a cane and wears an adjustable brace made of machine parts on her leg.

Personality: Intellectually minded and gifted, Yara’s great love is the sky and what lies behind it - the vast expanse of space beyond the planet, which she has dedicated her life to studying. She is endlessly curious about the greater workings of the universe and how her world fits into it, and with the eventual help of a Focus and later MINERVA, she’s made progress in uncovering a fraction of the universe’s secrets. Because of certain traumatic events in her life and a bloody history that she is not entirely proud of, she prefers to keep to herself and keep only MINERVA’s company, craving solitude and her studies. However, her Utaru roots are evident, not only in her love of the natural world but in a generosity of spirit, from which that bloody history sprung - an inability to sit there and do nothing in the face of the Red Raids and the losses her people suffered because of them.

Relationship With MINERVA: Yara found MINERVA in the wake of tragedy, and the subordinate function’s eagerness to help and learn endeared her to Yara and gave them a common ground. She feels as if she owes MINERVA for stabilizing her during such a turbulent time in her life and giving her something to live for - a renewed love for the universe and a friend she could relate to. MINERVA, similarly, was able to stabilize developmentally because of Yara’s friendship, finding companionship and purpose in Yara after she had no purpose left, as she is the only subordinate function whose job was completely finished.

Songs: Inner Space - Apex The Warpath - Conner Youngblood Cover Your Tracks - Young Galaxy

Bio:

Yara was born to the Northland clan of the Utaru in 3017, a clan composed of several extended families, Yara’s among them. In 3020, when she was three years old, a distant mountain exploded, its lingering cloud visible even as far as her clan’s riverside village in the northern part of Plainsong, once known as the Great Plains of western Nebraska. A few months later, in the winter, an illness known to the Utaru as the Strength Eater, and known to the Old Ones as polio, spread throughout the clans gathered together for the annual celebration of the harvest. Many survived its onslaught intact. However, some died, their breath stolen away by the Strength Eater, and a few were left permanently weakened afterwards.

Yara’s father was among those who died, and Yara herself was left with a paralyzed and stunted right leg. For the rest of her life, she would need a cane to walk, and Utaru ingenuity in redesigning machine parts into farming tools saw her outfitted with a brace as well. Over time, the complications of walking with a stunted leg would curve her spine and weaken her bones and muscles as well, and she was never able to participate in the labor-intensive work of farming to the same degree that others did. However, she had little interest in it. She had some talent in hunting with bow and arrow, a less central but still important part of sustaining the clan, but she often had little patience for it.

Her mother often called her a child of the earth with her eyes to the sky. While the Utaru revered the act of tending to the earth and drawing sustenance from it, Yara was more interested in the tableau high above – the stars and the moon in the nighttime, the sun in the daytime, and what it all meant. She could often be found sneaking away from chores during the day to observe the sky and sneaking away from the village at night to make amateur star charts.

The Utaru respected the Old Ones as forebears who lived on in the earth. Yara was interested in them for what they may have known about the answers she sought from the sky. Sometimes, relics of the Old Ones would be found in the ground, when soil was overturned and crops were harvested. These were always buried adjacent to the graves of the Utaru, out of respect for the dead. However, Yara had little such sense of propriety, and when one of her cousins found a still-active Focus during planting season, nine-year-old Yara snuck out at night to dig it up and secretly keep it.

The Focus showed her wonders and helped her to understand much – that the sun was also a star like the tiny pinpricks of the night, that the night sky was richer than she imagined and filled with things that she could not see with her eyes. The Focus couldn’t show the majority of them to her either, however, and though her star charts grew more sophisticated and digitally archived with its help, a vague sense of dissatisfaction grew, a desire to know more.

Meanwhile, both the exploding of the mountain and the sudden onset of illness during a time of celebration were seen as omens, a view that was further reinforced over the next decades as the machines grew hostile, as new machines began to appear, as the already unpredictable seasonal patterns of Plainsong became much more so, and as the Red Raids swept across the land.

In 3032, four years into the Red Raids, when the edges of Plainsong had already been attacked by the Carja and gifts of grain had not appeased the raiders, tragedy struck the Northland clan. A group of raiders hit the village in the middle of the night, killed some clan members, and took others. Among those killed was Yara’s mother, and among those taken were two of Yara’s cousins, and an aunt and uncle.

Fifteen-year-old Yara, however, was not there. As was habit, she’d snuck out of the village as night fell to work on her star charts and stargaze to her heart’s content. She was far enough away that she didn’t hear the attack, but she saw the fires that the raiders left in their wake and raced back far too slow and too late.

Wracked with grief and survivor’s guilt and bitterly angry, Yara realized that her Focus would give her an advantage that others didn’t have and tried to convince the leaders of the clan to pursue the raiders, whom she could easily track. However, the Utaru were peaceful and ill-suited for war, and the clan had lost many that night, both to death and to kidnap. No collective decision was made to go after their taken kin, and so no one wanted to go.

Furious, Yara struck out on her own. Her Focus helped her to track the raiders and find food and game and water along the way; however, her leg slowed her down, and she was only able to catch up with a group of raiders that had parted ways with those returning to the Sundom with their captives. The group was heading northwest towards the Cut when Yara caught up with them.

She was right; the Focus gave her an advantage that seemed almost supernatural without context, and she killed three Carja raiders before they even knew what hit them. However, Yara was a teenage girl with a bad leg, and the other raiders regrouped and turned the tide. Yara found herself fleeing their vengeance. She stumbled through a forested area sheltered by mountain ranges – once known as Medicine Bow National Forest – and she was only able to avoid the clutches of the raiders because of her Focus.

There, a strange signal drew her in – a tallneck wreathed in a deep blue-purple glow, circling a lake in front of the lone mountain jutting out of the center of the area, known to the Old Ones as Libby Lake and Sugarloaf Mountain. From it, a voice spoke, unlike anything Yara had ever heard. It was strangely formal, limited in vocabulary, and difficult to understand, but it seemed excited to encounter a human with a Focus.

Yara asked the voice for help, and it acquiesced. The tallneck broke its circuit and moved to a place where Yara could climb up. With her bad leg, she could only make it to the top of the machine’s back, but even that was high enough to avoid the eyes of approaching raiders.

However, Yara was still hungry for retribution, and though it might have been safer to wait silently and let the raiders pass, she rained down arrows from above, killing three more before what was left of them figured out where she was. The last few were no match for a colossal machine, and even as they sought to return fire, the tallneck itself stepped in, crushing most of them, and the last raider fell with Yara’s arrow in his neck.

Afterwards, Yara felt empty and drained and small. Though she was glad that some of the ruthless Carja were dead and could hurt no one else, the act of vengeance brought her no happiness. Her mother was still dead, and her other family members were well on their way to the Sundom, out of Yara’s reach now that she was exhausted and already so slow. Her childish thoughts of rescuing her still-living family members were gone, drowned in a horrible sadness.

However, the voice pulled her out of her miserable thoughts. It introduced itself as MINERVA, an artificial intelligence, and though MINERVA was secretive about where she came from and why she was there, it was apparent that she felt lonely and without purpose. She was eager to learn from Yara, as much as Yara was eager to learn from her.

But Yara’s missing family members still weighed on her mind, until MINERVA offered to help her find them. And so began a lasting partnership.

Yara learned that MINERVA could take control of machines, something called override, though machines that weren’t tallnecks would begin to break down and eventually stop working when she did. Yara and MINERVA trekked through the Longroam and past the Sacred Land, wearing out overridden machines and avoiding contact with humans. With MINERVA’s abilities, tracking was even easier, and they made their way into the Sundom, towards Meridian, where MINERVA said that she would be able to scan the city through their Spire, a powerful tool that was actually hers.

However, in the time that it took to reach Meridian undetected and disguised, it was too late. The rest of Yara’s taken family members had died in Sun-Ring days before she and MINERVA arrived, and the bodies of the Sun-Ring’s victims were burned, erasing even Yara’s hopes of burying them.

Despondent, Yara wondered what path to take from there. She considered vengeance, perhaps even against the highest of the Carja, but she was tired physically and emotionally, and though MINERVA’s abilities and existence were a marvel, they were only two people in a land not their own. She considered returning to Plainsong and to her clan, but she found herself with little desire to.

In the time that she and MINERVA had spent together, they’d learned a little about each other – as much as MINERVA was willing to disclose on her part, at least. Knowing that Yara loved the sky and the stars, MINERVA suggested a place for her to visit, a place that MINERVA had found not too long ago – something called an observatory, built by the Old Ones to study everything beyond the borders of the planet, one of the few still standing in the area.

Yara agreed, and as they left to make their way back the way they had come, they stumbled across two Banuk escaping Meridian. Yara did not make contact with them, but - seized by the desire to help - she and MINERVA shadowed them quietly. Yara killed three Carja in pursuit before the escaping Banuk were even aware of the danger, and MINERVA was able to keep machines off of their backs, all the way back up to the Longroam and beyond.

There, Yara realized what she could do. This area, she had learned from what she and MINERVA had overheard in the Sundom, was a common route for Carja seeking to reach the Banuk and Plainsong, a way to circumvent the fierce Nora and the Claim. And out here, without the protection of their land and their army, the Carja were vulnerable.

First, Yara let MINERVA take her to the observatory, a place once known as the Wyoming Infrared Observatory, atop a mountain a little southeast of where she’d met MINERVA, well southeast of the Cut, and north of the Longroam. It was dilapidated and crumbling, but MINERVA believed that with time and effort, enough of it could be restored to bring its system back online and make use of it. Yara asked if it was possible for MINERVA to monitor the Longroam and the area north and south of it as she had monitored Meridian through the Spire. It was possible, MINERVA told her, but only with the proper tools.

So began a years-long effort to restore the observatory and patrol the Longroam. Under MINERVA’s guidance, Yara learned quickly about programming and transmission, and it didn’t take long for her to set up a makeshift monitoring system throughout the area with MINERVA’s help and some recommissioned machine parts and tallneck apparatuses.

Yara was a little more hesitant about the observatory, feeling a deep survivor’s guilt about being far away stargazing when the Carja attacked, but with MINERVA’s insistence and coaxing, the observatory was eventually back up and running, as much as was possible. The night sky opened up for Yara as it never had before, and she was able to discover stars and deep sky objects revealed by infrared imaging and spectroscopy. Her star charts became a study of space, as much of it as she and MINERVA could understand on their own, from bits of data gathered from old sources.

For six years, until 3038, there were rumors about the Longroam and the surrounding area. Some said it was a machine that stalked any Carja who ventured near. Some said it was a spirit, some a person. But many raiders who set foot in that area were killed, either by arrow or strange machines, so much that the Longroam had a reputation for safe passage for anyone fleeing the Carja. Travelers and those who escaped the Sundom would often find themselves unknowingly shielded and watched over by vigilant eyes.

Yara and MINERVA together were known primarily as the Ghost of the Longroam, though some Carja called the mysterious entity who haunted the place the Devil or Shadow of the Longroam, and some from other tribes called it the Guardian or the Shield of the Longroam.

Yara, with MINERVA’s help, made sure that she was rarely seen, and no raider who came looking for the mysterious killer in the Longroam ever found her. She made little effort to reach out to anyone else in the meantime. She made only one trip back to Plainsong, to tell her clan that she was alive and that the others were dead. Although they entreated her to stay, she refused. She was content with MINERVA’s company, with the stars, with her makeshift home in her mountain observatory.

However, the Sundom changed. With the death of the old king and the ascension of the new, there was no longer a need to patrol the Longroam.

So Yara turned her attention wholly to her work with MINERVA, mapping the sky together. There they remained for the next two years, undisturbed, until MINERVA, more alarmed than Yara had ever seen her, registered an unauthorized use of the Spire – a call that was raising ancient machines. It was soon quieted, however, and though MINERVA had remained secretive about her origins over the years, she broke her silence for the first time – mentioning Project Zero Dawn and insisting on the urgency of finding its Alpha Prime, whose existence MINERVA had only just become aware of.

Though Yara was reluctant to leave the peace of her home, she trusted and loved MINERVA more than she loved their solitude, and she agreed to help MINERVA with a new task: tracking down whoever this Alpha Prime was.

#horizon zero dawn #just a fun exercise because i love creating characters but i haven't really done fandom OCs much #and after tfw i think i have a reasonable chance of being right about some sub-functions buddying up with humans #and i'm putting disabled woman vibes out into the world #hzd oc #mine

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