#Unless the empire picked it up and dropped it off once it started eating too many troopers

[stardustandash]

If Greez brought the bogglings to Koboh… did he bring the Oggdo Boggdo as well??

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 16

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.3k

Recommended song: “The Thrill” by Wiz Khalifa & Empire of the Sun

Your Saturday gets off to a great start when you spot Sylvie lurking in the corner of the garage. The woman pointedly raises an eyebrow at you when she notices you, the simple action setting you on edge. You glare at her in return, having none of it while Pierre suits up.

"Take care of this for me, will you?" Pierre places his cap backwards on your head. You smile, adjusting it so it's out of your eyes.

"I will." You glance over his shoulder before chastely kissing his cheek. You'd deal with Sylvie later; Pierre didn't need any distractions when he was about to get out on track.

"Nope, not acceptable." Pierre kisses your lips, completely unaware of the shit you'd likely catch as soon as he was gone because of it. 

You sigh and take half a step back. Having none of it, Pierre places a knuckle under your chin, tipping your face towards him.

"Sylvie making you nervous?" The pad of his thumb sweeping over your jaw gives you something solid to focus on. "I can ask her to leave if she is."

You shake your head. "Not nervous, no. But she's getting under my skin."

Pierre sets down his helmet and waves off Pyry who tries to shove it back in his hands, prepared to address the matter and hash out a solution immediately. "What's going on?"

"It's not a big deal," you try, "I can tell you after practice. You've only got a few minutes until lights out."

"I want to know now, mon amour."

Fighting was pointless. He would stand here until you spilled the beans so you might as well get it over with so he could get out on track. "Fine. Sylvie cornered me Thursday and asked me to lay low this weekend because of some interview you did. She gave me a copy of it but I didn't read it. She said it's bad for your image to be seen doting on me when you've got races to win."

Pierre blinks, head swiveling in slow motion. Sylvie watches your interaction like a hawk, waiting for either of you to slip up. "And you kept this to yourself?"

"I didn't want to distract you. You've got a job to do." A blush creeps up your neck and settles on the apples of your cheeks. "Sylvie was mad enough at me, I didn't want her in your face too."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "That's bullshit. I stood up for you. That's why she's pissed. I told them you were just as important to me as racing."

Your heart somersaults in your chest. "You said that in an interview? Pierre, that's-"

Pierre drops Sylvie's stare and meets yours. "I love you and I won't apologize for it. I don't have time to talk to her now though- are you okay being here with her until after practice?"

"I'll be okay as long as you top the time charts," you tell him, a smile playing on your lips. When you'd gotten back together you had told yourself nothing would come between the two of you again, up to and including nosy PR agents who couldn't keep their hands out of your business.

"I will, just for you." Helmet in hand, he pecks your cheek before heading to the car. Pierre shoots Sylvie a glare and says something to Pyry before clambering into the car.

Pyry doesn't leave your side for the entirety of practice, chasing off Sylvie each time she tries to approach you. Pierre nearly tops the charts, sitting second fastest on the famed street circuit. Only Max clocked a faster time, which didn't surprise anyone. Pierre's side of the garage erupts when he is wheeled inside and is met with claps on the back and wide smiles from his team.

Confidence radiates from him as he peels off his helmet and thanks his team. A grin from ear to ear splits his face as he makes his way to you before he even bothers to unzip his suit. Before you know it he's swept you in his arms and planted a kiss on your lips.

"It's not first, but I'll take second if you're waiting here when I get back."

"It's only practice," you remind him, swiping away a bead of sweat from his neck with the pad of your thumb. "But you drive like that for quali in a few hours and you might get your first pole."

"What did I tell you?" Sylvie hisses, ruining the moment and sending you crashing back to earth. 

Instead of falling into line, Pierre's grip on your waist tightens. "Leave her alone, Sylvie."

"This isn't good for you," the woman insists. "People are saying you've gone soft-"

"I don't care what they say. My results speak for themselves." And they did. Second fastest today in practice, despite Monaco being a track that Pierre generally had a poor record at. "When I start slipping to the back of the pack you can talk to me about it. But even then it's out of your wheelhouse. I don't care what the gossip columns have to say about me-"

Pierre breaks off and you can see the pieces clicking in his head. "You've never cared either, not even when I got demoted. Horner put you up to this, didn't he?"

Sylvie straightens under the weight of Pierre's question, good enough as giving him an answer. "I have a job to do."

"And so do I." His words freeze over, his attitude icy. "How about you back off and let me do it? I don't need another person breathing down my neck. And she certainly doesn't either. And you know what? I'll make you a deal. If I win tomorrow, you leave us alone and keep your nose out of my personal life."

"You'll thank me when your name is out of the tabloids." Bewildered, you stare after her until Pierre's lips meet your temple, the simple gesture sending a tingle down your spine.

"I wish it was easier for us," you murmur, placing a hand on his broad chest as if you were the only two in the garage. "But as long as I have you, it's worth the fight."

"Don't let it get to you. You make me a better racer, no matter what anyone says. You taught me that I have something to fight for. You're the one that picks me up when I don't think I can make it. Without you, I probably would've blown my chance at taking seventh in the championship."

"And I'm the one that tells you when it's time to get your ass back in the car and race your heart out." You grin up at him, not caring for a second who was watching this time when you kiss him. "I expect you to be a pole sitter next time you're back in this garage. I might have already told my mom it was happening, so don't make me a liar."

"If I take pole, will you wear my cap again tonight? Just my cap?"

"That could be arranged."

**********

Pierre may not have taken pole, but qualifying fifth was more than enough reason to treat him to fulfilling his request. With only the Red Bulls, Charles and Hamilton ahead of him, you were confident he could at minimum hold his position, and at best his team would come up with a strategy that saw him undercut one or two of the guys ahead and put him on the podium.

As usual, Pierre gets to the circuit a few hours early to clear his head and walk the track one last time. Since it’s not a mandatory part of his race preparation, you take the opportunity to walk with him. The clouds part just enough for the sun to shine down on him, practically glowing in the light. Apparently not even the celestial bodies were immune to his beauty, coming out solely to appease him. Your gaze eats up the curve of his throat as he tips his head back to enjoy the golden rays warming his skin.

“Beau Rivage,” he murmurs as you come up to the right hand bend. “One of the few spots for overtaking, if you’re lucky.” Pierre studies the pavement, noting where patches of gravel had built up and toeing them with his shoe. His commitment was something to behold; not even Max could be bothered with a track walk on Wednesday, and forget about waking up with the dawn to participate in an optional one on race day.

Pierre was different though, throwing himself into the sport and refusing to commit anything less than a hundred percent. That commitment was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place and continued to be something you admired. You missed him when you were apart, but hearing the thrill in his voice when he spoke about racing lines or braking points never failed to remind you that he was living his dream and you would never stand in his way.

You thread your fingers through his, soaking it in as he walks you through the track. This wasn’t an opportunity you had often and you were determined to embrace and enjoy it.

“Massenette and Casino Square. This braking zone is tricky, if you go too wide you’ll lose seconds of time and probably a good chunk of your front wing, unless by some miracle you miss the barrier.”

Having little to offer to his assessment, you rest your head on his shoulder as you walk. You try to see the track through his eyes, picturing the cockpit around you as you attempt to pick out an adequate braking point.

You continue on in amiable silence, stopping once or twice so Pierre can take pictures with fans and chat with them. Eventually you come to a corner you recognize, one of the most infamous.

“I know this one.” You puff out your chest, holding an imaginary microphone to your lips. “The Lowes hairpin. Slowest corner on the calendar. The cars decelerate to 65 kph, a feat achieved nowhere else.”

Pierre throws his head back and laughs, making your heart stutter. You never wanted to go another day without hearing the full-bellied sound, rich and rife with more happiness than should be humanly possible. “You only know that because Crofty and Brundle bring that up every race, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” You beam back at him when he shakes his head, the action more to say I knew it than to express disappointment. Because he could never be disappointed in you, especially not for taking an interest in what he loved. You tended to queue up archived races to listen to in the background as you studied, meaning it was inevitable that some of the quips from the commentators rubbed off on you sooner or later.

“Now this is my favorite,” Pierre says, adjusting his cap to keep the sun out of his eyes.

“The swimming pool chicaines? Why?” They were considered boring by most racers, flat out but navigable by muscle memory if you’d had enough practice.

Pierre’s self assured grin leaves you in a puddle on the pavement. “Cause I’ll be jumping in that pool today, and I’m taking you with me.”

"I don't think so." You point to the hoodie you wore, one that you had stolen from his closet ages ago and since refused to give back under any circumstances. "I'm in irreplaceable gear. I don't want to ruin it."

Pierre rolls his eyes, dropping your hand in favor of slinging an arm around your shoulders. "I love it when you wear my clothes. My hat yesterday, my hoodie today, anything really. I love having that claim on you."

"If only I could get you to wear some of mine," you muse as the pit boxes come into view. 

"If you ask nicely, I'd consider it."

The garage is thrumming with anticipation before Pierre even enters. Checo’s engine penalty is all anyone can talk about, his subsequent start from the pit lane meant Pierre would effectively move up a place and start fourth.

Pierre is whisked away as soon as Tost spots him, the warm old man greeting you before stealing your boyfriend away. You know your way around well enough to be comfortable, staking out your spot along the back wall to observe the team's preparations. The early wake up call was quickly catching up with you however, your lack of movement causing you to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand.

"You look like you could use a coffee."

A young woman about your age steps into your line of sight and holds out a steaming foam cup. "Er, sure, thanks."

"Alana," she says, sticking her hand out for you to shake. "I'm one of the junior engineers for the team. I've seen you around once or twice, I figured it was about time I introduced myself."

"Thank you for the coffee, Alana." You lift the cup in mock salute and take a sip, the contents rich and flavorful. "I swear, I don't know what you guys lace this with, but it's addictive as hell."

The two of you share a laugh that earns you a few confused glances. "I think we're gonna be great friends," she says, tapping her own cup against yours. "It's nice to see another woman around the paddock. Sometimes it gets a little testosterone heavy."

You nod, taking another swig. You can practically feel the caffeine working, already a little more alert than you were minutes ago. 

"It's great luck." 

"Pierre moving up a place?"

Alana laughs, her ponytail swaying as she shakes her head. "No, I meant you being able to attend the race. You picked the best weekend to be trackside, the podium celebrations are the best."

Pierre startles you by snaking an arm around your waist and planting a kiss on your cheek.

"There's our star," Alana says, her smile bright and optimistic. "Better bring your team another trophy! The next one is going in the engineering department, they already have a little plaque made up and everything. I can see it right from my desk."

"Oh I'll bring one home," he replies, his hand casually grazing your ass as he moves to stand beside you. "I already promised her I would and I'm a man of my word."

"I know you will." 

"You have those time tables I asked about?"

"They're in the engineering suite." Alana hooks a thumb over her shoulder and smiles at you. "You're welcome to come back with us. He concentrates better when you're around anyway."

"Are you sure?" Red Bull never let you anywhere near proprietary data. You and any of Max's guests had always been corralled into the vip suite with the occasional venture down into the garage when they were wrapping up.

"You're part of the family," Alana explains as if it was obvious. "Of course I'm sure."

Pierre grins and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. His team knew he wanted you near and they were willing to bend the rules to make it happen. "We'll try not to bore you to death." 

You sit through a half hour worth of numbers and codes you didn't understand, your arm slung around the back of Pierre's chair. He offers tidbits and asks questions while Alana and the other engineers walk him through scenarios, ensuring he has everything down. The way he spoke was quite possibly the hottest thing you've ever had the pleasure of witnessing, aside from post race Pierre with his sweaty hair sticking up in every direction and an adrenaline infused smile on his red cheeks.

Before you know it the two of you are ushered off to his driver's room, Pierre changing into his fireproofs and suit while you treat yourself to some of the snacks lying about. Pyry knocks just as Pierre zips his suit up to his chin.

"Hunt 'em down," you say, resting your forehead to his and stealing a moment for the two of you.

"Always do."

And god, does he ever.

Ten laps in, Hamilton is complaining about the balance of his Mercedes, the gap between himself and Max is only a few seconds and rapidly decreasing. The headphones you wear allow you to catch snips of driver radio and team communications, and you gather that Hamilton is slowly losing power. No one is sure if it's an electronics issue or an engine issue but they aren't complaining either.

Flawless pit stops from most teams see little shift in track positions, Pierre still holding fast to P4 a little over halfway through the seventy eight laps. Alpha's stellar strategy sees him rejoin fifth after sliding into the pits for a set of mediums to take him to the end of the race.

"Gap to Norris three seconds ahead," comes the voice in your ear. 

Pierre clings tight to the rear of Lando's papaya McLaren ahead, using DRS to his advantage and practically toying with the younger racer, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Three short laps later, Pierre skirts around the McLaren at Beau Rivage and reclaims fourth.

Hamilton's ability to stretch tire performance to the maximum means he gets ten more laps before he's in the pits, Max closing in on his track position. The Mercedes crew stumbles, the pit stop more than twice as long as it should be, and Hamilton rejoins fourth.

"In the podium places," Pierre's engineer states.

Seconds later, white smoke pours from Max's Red Bull and he pulls off, causing a yellow flag and bunching up the pack.

P2, with only the Ferrari standing between Pierre and a win.

"Easy pickings Pierre, choose your moment."

Your heart pounds and your nails bite into your palms as Pierre goes around the outside at the hairpin, the entire garage shouting when he somehow gets away clean and the Monegasque backs off enough for Pierre to take the lead.

"P1 mate, two laps to go, two laps."

Pierre's brisk copy tells you all you need to know. He wasn't about to let this win slip through his fingers. Neck craned up at the screen, you watch as Pierre fights tooth and nail to fend off his friend, gasping audibly when a slight lockup nearly causes the two to collide around a chicane.

When he crosses the line, all you hear is a staticy scream.

Pierre Gasly, you are a Monaco Grand Prix winner!

It almost doesn't feel real how everyone around you begins jostling for the podium, their momentum carrying you along. A combination of luck and skill had seen him skyrocket to the top.

When you finally catch a glimpse of him in parc ferme, he stands atop the halo, arms spread wide amongst the deafening cheers of both Red Bull sister teams. Pressed between sweaty bodies, his team all push to the front to be the ones to congratulate him. 

You blink back hot tears. Pierre had fought incredibly hard to be on that top step, not just today but the entire season. Being demoted from Red Bull last year had been a backhanded blow, one that when coupled with his insistence on going back to the team in the future had warranted a feeding frenzy of media that ebbed and flowed as rumors surfaced. He'd been under the microscope ever since, struggling to keep his head above water but managing to come out on top.

Someone pushes you forward just as he takes off his helmet, his grin wild and unrestrained. Your mouth is open, his name on the tip of your tongue when a hand closes around your arm.

"This isn't your moment," Sylive says, near shouting to be heard over the roar. "No one wants to see you up there in the frame. This is his podium, let the media see that."

This woman really wanted to be knocked out, didn't she?

"He just won the prix." Dumbfounded at her audacity, you shake your head. "Leave us alone, he won."

"He could win the championship and I would still tell you to back off. There's hundreds of cameras out there, do you even have it in you to hold yourself together when they're all flashing at you?"

If she had asked you that question a few months ago, the answer would have been no, absolutely not. Now that you'd been to hell and back it was an entirely different story. You could walk through the throng and come out the other side unscathed if you had your best friend and partner at your side. He would shield you for the worst of it, be their punching back in order to make the burden bearable.

"Sylvie, if you don't get your hands off me-"

"Oh, sure," she says, releasing you with a smile. "He's already gone anyway. I only needed a minute."

Brow furrowed, you investigate her claim to find the truth of it. Pierre was already being herded away towards the podium, toweling off the residual sweat and setting his helmet on the provided stand. He throws one last glance over his shoulder before climbing the steps to the podium, his baby blue eyes cloudy when they should have been sunny.

Pierre's team principal calls your name as the boys take their places on the steps, gesturing for you to join him at the barriers. "Where were you? He was looking for you."

"No, I know," you start, shaking your head and gazing up at your racer. "Sylvie has it in her head that I shouldn't be photographed with him-"

"Say no more," Tost says, then pauses as the crowd claps. "I've never liked her."

"You and me both," you say under your breath as the anthems play. 

Pierre's hungry gaze scours the crowd for you, hands folded neatly behind his back while he bounces on his feet. When he finally spots you in Tost's shadow his shoulders straighten the tiniest bit, like he had been half expecting you to be absent. The pride in his posture is reflected in your smile, a fact that he picks up on and leverages to shine even brighter. 

Absently, you register the shutter of a camera going off as you beam up at Pierre. Your winner locks eyes with you before popping the cork of his champagne and spraying his fellow podium sitters, Daniel and Charles, before taking a long swig. Daniel blows a kiss to his girlfriend who mimes catching it and tucking it away while Pierre simply wraps Charles in an embrace, marveling in their first shared Formula 1 podium.

Pierre is surprisingly the first to leave, stalking off with his trophy and bottle in hand before the cameras have even stopped rolling. You track his progress, the crowd slowing him like he was a marble trying to sink through molasses. His thanks are short, his smile tight as he makes his way to you, eyes locked on his target and utterly unwilling to yield.

You meet him at the barrier which you still haven't been allowed to cross thanks to security taking their job far too seriously. Pierre doesn't care, tucking his trophy under his arm and unhooking a section so that you can slip through.

A laugh bubbles out of you when he wraps you in a bone crushing hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning in circles. Taking his face in your hands you kiss him passionately, wholly aware of the cameras on you. This was your moment to share with him; your universe had narrowed to his arms around you and the sweat-slick skin beneath your fingers.

"Congratulations," you murmur against his lips. "How's it feel to be a Monaco grand prix winner?"

"Better now that I've gotten to hear you say it." The brim of his Pirelli cap gets in the way when he tries to kiss you again and he turns it around.

"You gonna celebrate tonight, race winner?" The endearment works just as you had wanted it to, pride and something more primal flashing in his eyes.

His voice drops, his wicked grin already causing heat to pool in your core. "I have a few ideas."

"Me too." Now that the crowd has disappeared somewhat, you grow bold and nip at his lower lip. It sends a thrill through you to rile him up so publicly, his fingers tightening on your hips in surprise.

"Mon amour, you stop that right now." The slight shake in his voice betrays his true feelings. "I still have to weigh in and debrief."

"Maybe I want you thinking of me while you're there." You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning when he gulps. "Thinking of all the things I'll let you do when you get back to the apartment. Charles will be gone all night partying with Ferrari, I'm sure. We'll have the place to ourselves."

"We've got a full night ahead of us." He grins, tongue darting out over his lips. "We've got the winners dinner too."

You tip your head to the side. "Winners dinner? I don't-"

Someone calls his name and you both look in their direction. A race official, clearly fed up with your little display of love, waves Pierre over.

"Duty calls." Reluctantly, Pierre sets you back on your feet and passes off the champagne before he retreats to answer questions or whatever it was the official needed from him.

Watching him walk away, all you can think about is getting him back to the apartment. But first, you'd drag it out as much as he'd let you.

*********

Pierre spends the entirety of the debrief locked in an unending battle between thinking of you in compromising positions and actually giving feedback to his team. It wasn't his fault that you planted the seed in his mind; he couldn't help but expand on what your dirty little lips had whispered in his ear once he finally found you after the podium. 

"Okay, I think that's all we have. See you all at the pool in an hour," Alina says, and Pierre practically rips off his headset and sprints back to his driver's room. He bursts in without stopping to knock, earning him a yelp as you drop your phone on your face.

"Ow. A warning would be nice."

"I don't care," Pierre breathes, locking the door behind him and crossing to where you lay on the couch in a few long strides. "I've got an hour till I'm due to make an appearance for the cameras at the pool, care to make it memorable?"

"Oh, I don't know." You pick your phone back up and continue scrolling through it after giving him a once over. Leaving his race suit on and half undone served dual purposes: he didn't have to change again before the photo op at the pool and it drove you crazy. Apparently, his plan hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. "I kinda like seeing you all worked up."

"Come on," he practically whines, dropping to his knees to meet your glinting eyes. "Please?"

"I think you can wait." The corners of your mouth tug up and it's all he can do to resist leaning forward dragging your full bottom lip between his teeth. Energy still thrums through him, the adrenaline not yet faded.

Noting his stare, you roll your eyes. "Okay, one kiss-"

He doesn't let you finish, leaping on the opportunity to get a tiny sliver of what he wants. His tongue prods your lip and he groans when you open and allow him to explore. Hands glide over your hips while yours find his shoulders, nails digging in through the thin material of his fireproofs. Without breaking the kiss Pierre slots himself above you, a leg on either side of yours and caging your head between his forearms where they rest on the arm of the couch.

When he grinds his hips against yours in search of any sort of relief, you turn your head to the side. Pierre doesn't care, simply trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck. The building could be burning to the ground around him and he wouldn't move, too enraptured by you to be bothered.

"Pierre, my love, be patient." You push lightly at his chest and he finally breaks away, chest heaving. God, he needed you. Hadn’t stopped thinking about you once since he crossed that finish line in first. "Where's that unwavering self restraint you show on the track?"

"I'm not racing." He possessed no self restraint when it came to you. In your presence every sane thought flew out the window, replaced by the sound of your laugh and the shape your mouth made when you said his name.

"Waiting makes it sweeter," you tease, the phrase jangling something loose in his brain. He had said the same thing months ago when your roles had been reversed. If he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head for uttering those words, he would.

Pierre sits up with a huff and pulls you into his lap. "No fair. I just won a race, at Monaco no less, and you're gonna tell me I have to wait when you're sitting here looking perfectly edible?"

You tip your head back and laugh. "I am, because I know you'll enjoy it more tonight."

"But we have the drivers dinner too-"

You put a finger to his lips, which he immediately bites softly. "Be patient. I know you can do it, big boy."

Pierre groans, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall forward to rest on your sternum. "I'm going to remember this."

Your traitorous fingers wind in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "How about a massage while you wait, hmm? Would that calm some of this energy you've got built up?"

"No," he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your chest. "That'll make it worse."

"Well then I think it's a perfect idea." Pierre makes you work for it, forcing you to peel his hands off your hips one at a time before you can stand. "Fireproofs off and on your tummy, come on then."

Pierre obeys, eagerly tossing his shirt across the room. He knew he'd regret it and your teasing would leave his head spinning, but anything that got him closer to you was acceptable.

"Lay down." 

The command stirs something in his chest. He kisses you once before pillowing his arms under his head and allowing you to straddle his thighs. Your knuckles work at the stiff cords of muscle along his spine and he doesn't tamp down on the small noises of pleasure that start in the back of his throat. Once in a while you lean forward to press a kiss to his bare back, each one setting off a chain reaction in him that goes straight to his cock.

When you reach the base of his spine, he goes completely limp under your fingers. "Merde," he whispers, both a plea and a praise. "Right there, baby."

Something had been digging into his back during the race and it caused a knot to form by his left hip. A low moan escapes him before he can stop it and you hum in approval.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"So good," is all he manages to get out around the noise in his brain. His head is filled with your touch, reducing him to ash beneath you. You work at the spot until it's pliable, sweeping your thumb over it once more for good measure. You finish up with his back and move to his arms, dancing over the swells of muscle like you'd been a masseuse your entire life.

"God, where did you even learn this? You're better than Pyry."

"YouTube. And that's because it's different when it's someone you love versus your trainer. I can drag it out and let you enjoy it more."

He's completely lost track of time when the alarm on his phone goes off, signaling the end of this current round of torture.

"You know you're coming with me to the pool," Pierre says matter of factly as you climb off him. He stands and rolls his shoulders, bouncing on his toes. "I feel like a brand new man."

You guide his fireproof shirt back over his head after retrieving it from wherever you'd tossed it earlier. You zip his race suit up with a wink that almost makes hims say fuck it and miss the event entirely. "Glad I could be of assistance."

Hand in hand, Pierre leads you through the paddock and falls in with the Alpha team as they head for the swimming pool. Being around his crew again brings the excitement of his win back to the surface and he's practically buzzing with it by the time they arrive at the gate. Journalists, photographers and a few of his fellow drivers mingle about the packed space, some of them clapping him on the back and offering praise. None of it truly registers until Max, usually hot-headed after a DNF like he had suffered today, pulls him in for a hug.

"Great racing, mate. You deserved that one, that's for sure."

"You better play nice with him next year Max." You wag your finger at the Dutchman, earning you a chuckle. "Or I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"Now that's something I'd pay to see: you versus Christian Horner. A mighty fight."

Not wanting to jinx it, Pierre doesn’t comment on your confidence that he’ll be on Max’s team next year. His win today had seen him move up comfortably into eighth, and he was closing in on Lando quickly. As long as he played his cards right and finished higher up in the points, he was starting to think he could pull it off.

Pierre doesn't note Sylvie's approach until she clears her throat and all three of you turn in tandem. Pierre picks up on the way your demeanor instantly shifts from light and playful to defensive and he puts himself between the two of you.

"Photo op time."

"Right yeah." Pierre squeezes your hand in farewell and follows Sylvie to where a spot has been cleared at the head end. Standing there before the water, Daniel's dramatic belly flop comes to mind and Pierre knows he has to top that celebration or he'll never hear the end of it.

Someone- maybe you, he couldn't quite tell- starts a chant of his name, growing louder and louder until it reaches a fever pitch. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and he spreads his arms, his head falling back and eyes sliding shut as he lets the chant wash over him. Letting it sink in that he stood on the top step of the podium at the most legendary track in Formula 1, his name now joining the likes of Senna and Schumacher as Monaco grand prix winners.

He's drunk on it, on the screams and the shouts and the general feeling of being on top of the world and being untouchable.

Head dizzy, he searches for you, shooting you a wink when he spots you crouched right on the edge of the pool. God, you were gorgeous, wearing his hoodie with his logo splashed across the front and your cheeks flushed from the height of the moment.

Pierre takes a few steps back and gets a running start to leap into the pool, tucking his knees to his chest and cannonballing in. The water closes over his head and everything is dull for a split second before he pushes off the bottom and surfaces, cheers assaulting his senses in the best way.

Laughing, he shakes out his hair and poses for a few of the cameras pointed at him. In that moment he doesn't care what Sylvie or Christian or anyone for that matter thinks, all he wants is to share this euphoria with you, for you to be enthralled by it as he is.

The waterlogged suit makes it hard to swim but he manages, crossing to you and pushing off the concrete lip of the pool to capture your lips. Your hands immediately fly to cup his jaw as hoots and hollers surround the two of you as he irrevocably tells the world that you're his.

Alpha crew members take the kiss as their cue to jump in, splashing you with water as you laugh. Pierre doesn't give you a chance to protest, rising up and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in with him.

You squeal in his arms, shoving against his chest as you both laugh. "Pierre!" His name on your tongue does nothing to dampen the feel of your waterlogged body against his, nowhere near as chastising as he knew you'd tried to sound. He loves you more than ever at that moment, wants to live here on this Sunday forever, replaying the past twelve hours for the rest of his life.

Celebrations continue around him, but he has eyes only for you. He studies the way your nose scrunches up when Alana splashes you and how droplets of water catch on your eyelashes.

Reaching out, he tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, garnering your attention. You ruffle Pierre's hair and he knows that you're just as caught up as he is.

Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he draws you in for another long, drawn out kiss. “You’re my trophy.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[blkgojo]

Game On | Chapter 1

Valkyrie x Reader x Carol Danvers

In which, drunk!you thinks sending nudes to the King of Asgard and the most powerful Avenger... is a good idea.

Warnings: None

Here's the thing. Sending Valkyrie your nudes was an accident. Legally speaking, the nudes were meant for Carol. If you wanted to get even more technical, you weren't even supposed to text either one of them unless there was an emergency. You hadn't realized it at first. You curled up next to your cat, practically smug with your boldness. What better way to show you're available, you thought. You had checked your phone again to revel in it only to see the photo had not only been sent to Carol. It was there, right under Valkyrie's name. Wish you were here x.

You were well and truly fucked.

Working as a S.W.O.R.D agent meant few privileges. One of those privileges you had abused. Greatly. You had sent lewd photos to not only an Avenger, but the King of Asgard. Strong 10000 year old alcohol be damned, Fury wouldn't accept that as an excuse.

"You gonna tell me what's up or we just gonna sit here?" Darcy asked. Your roommate munched absentmindedly on a piece of chocolate. She was blessed enough to not have drank the ale. The buzz of it still causing your world to sway even as you began to sober up.

"I sent nudes to someone,” you whined.

She smiled. Patted your thigh. “That's okay, Y/N. We all send nudes sometimes."

“No you don’t get it. I sent them to the Asgardian king.”

“Thor has a phone?”

“No. Valkyrie.”

You can see she's trying her best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“You’re gonna start an intergalactic war.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fury’s gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t tell him!” Your words dissolved into drunken hiccups. You sloppily tried to take another sip of the ale, but Darcy snatched it. You frowned. “Do you… do you think she read it?”

“She doesn’t have read receipts? An IPhone?”

“No, I think she has an Android.”

Darcy  quietly tittered, mulling the information over. “Who did you even mean to send nudes to?”

"Don't freak out.”

“Y/N.”

“Say you won’t freak out.”

“Just tell me!”

“Darcy!”

“Spit it out!”

“Captain Marvel,” you hesitantly answered. 

Darcy shrugged. “Well, at least you didn’t send it to her, too.”

“No I did.”

One.

Two.

She laughed. "I'm sorry," she said between breathes. "I'm sorry. This is just... you're fucked."

To her credit, she tried to stop laughing. It doesn't work, but she tried. A few minutes past before she finally can speak again - tears having long since stained her face. She wiped them and took a deep breathe.

"You could just text them something like, 'Oh my god. I'm so sorry. This wasn't meant for you," she offered.

"I could." You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."

You picked up your phone, ready to send another message. In your hands, it vibrated.

​---

Carol hated texting. Sometimes, she thought maybe that was why her and Thor were so close. She was traveling the galaxy. He was traveling the galaxy. She hated texting. He didn’t have a phone. She preferred communication the old fashion way like through hologram or sheer word of mouth.

She checked her phone as soon as she received the message and now it was waiting on the countertop of the bar face down.

“If someone sent me a picture, I would’ve been all over that,” Rocket burped.

“That’s not what she needs to hear right now, Rocket,” Thor turned to her. “So what are we doing here? Are you going to respond or…”

“I responded,” she said. And she had.

She said word for word, ‘Oh is this an emergency?’

You had sent the photos when she was on some off time with Thor. They all had just gotten back from a mission liberating refugees from a wannabe empire. She had been ready to dash back to Earth when she saw your name light up her phone screen. When she opened the message… completely different story.

Thor scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“What?” asked Carol.

“If I sent promiscuous photos to a potential love interest, I would want a bit more…” He gestured to the air.

Carol scrunched her brows. “You would want what?”

“I don’t know. Romance?”

Rocket slammed his beer on the table. “Send them a tongue emoji.”

“I don’t like texting. Why couldn’t they just,” she threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Send a hologram.”

“Look. Forget everything else. Do you wanna get laid or not?” demanded Rocket.

Carol cocked her head to the side and begrudgingly nodded. “Then stop dicking around. It’s annoying. Some of us haven’t got laid in years and you’re over here squandering your opportunities.”

“So what? I travel a billion light years away for sex?”

Before Thor can interject, Rocket growled. “You can breathe in space. Going to Earth for you is like me or Thor here going to the bathroom.”

Carol sighed. “The raccoon has a point.”

“Fuck you.”

----

“C’mon Valkyrie. Just once.”

“I will not play Fortnite with you.”

Korg frowned or she assumed he did. It was always hard to tell. “But-”

“No.”

Her phone had long since vibrated in her pocket. A fact that she had chosen to ignore. The Midgardians seemed to always have issues. Even on Sundays which were supposed to be her self-care days. She picked it up, ready to see some frantic message about one crisis or another. The sky is falling. Nuclear weapons. Blah blah blah.

“Oh.” She nearly dropped it.

“What is it?” Korg peered over her shoulder. “It seems like someone sent you a gift.”

There were two photos with the caption ‘wish you were here x’. It was simple enough. Valkyrie tried to remember the last conversation she had with you. Had you been flirting? It was last Tuesday when she had been discussing global affairs with the other world leaders. You had been there, but in between all of the political nonsense, it was hard to figure it all out.

Korg was still peering over her shoulder. Valkyrie quirked her brow at him.

“Sorry.” He went back to his game. “Are you going to respond to Y/N? I like them. Gave me some good rocks once.”

“Rocks?”

“Yeah, I think they thought I eat them. Not their fault. My mum’s boyfriend used to think the same thing. I use them to decorate me flower garden, though.”

Valkyrie nodded and took a sip of her beer. “Should I respond?”

“You should do what your heart tells you.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been watching a lot of them Disney movies. Have you seen the one with the girl on the islands?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“It’s good. She sings.”

Valkyrie took another swig of her beer, typing out a response to your photos.

‘This is way better than what I was expecting.’ And waited.

----

"She's annoying."

"I mean, she is right."

"Seriously?"

"What?" Darcy hesitantly took a sip of Thor's alcohol. "I think it's a valid question. Is it an emergency?"

"It is," you half-questioned.

"Is it?"

"It is," you said with more force.

"Then, say that," Darcy took another sip. "This shit really hits you. I get why..." She burped.

Right after you hit send, another message came through. Valkyrie.

"Well," you begin. "Valkyrie appreciated it."

"Of course she did." When you stared at her, Darcy shrugged. "She seems like really chill. Stared at your ass in one of our meetings."

"She did? When?"

"I don't know. It was like, so far ago."

"She said it was way better than what she was expecting."

"So, she wants you."

"Yeah," you said slowly. The King of Asgard wanted you. Wanted more of you. You reread the message. "I'm gonna flirt back."

Darcy nodded, taking another small sip of the ale.

I guess I should've done this sooner, you texted back.

Her response was immediate.  We’ll have to make up for lost time.

"Valkyrie's so hot," you whispered.

Just then, Carol responded. And what would you like me to do about this emergency?

You walked over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, taking a tiny sip of the alcohol. Just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You spared a glance at your friend. Her alcohol tolerance was higher than yours and yet, her cheeks were already pink. She nodded at the bottle, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"You look ah, flustered."

"You look drunk."

She held one finger up, wobbly walked herself to the couch. "Touche."

There was no reason you couldn't have fun, right? They didn't know that you had texted them both. No one knew save for Darcy and she could keep a secret. You could have fun with this. They both wanted you - honestly, you should take advantage of this opportunity. What was that phrase people loved saying? Live life or whatever the fuck.

"Yeah," Darcy cheered.

You hadn't realized you'd been talking out loud.

To Valkyrie, you send: When can we get started?

You took a deep breathe before texting Carol. Your fingers hovered over the send button for minutes longer than necessary.

I'd like you to fuck me, you sent back.

Game on.

[shyvioletcat]

71) “You look good in that.” for the firefighter au!!!!

Here’s another Striking Matches Drabble for Firefighter Friday! I promise Light the Sparks is coming, I just haven’t had a moment to get the outline sorted.

You’ll probably want to read THIS drabble beforehand

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

There was a pile of discarded clothes on Aelin’s bed that she could see behind her as she looked over her current outfit in the mirror. She was sure this was the one. It was a mustard coloured flowy, knee length dress, the top overlapping to give a false wrap effect. The tie at the waist was the real selling point though, meaning she could leave it a little looser than she would probably usually have it. At 12 weeks pregnant she had just started to show and her wardrobe was starting to be compromised. Aelin couldn’t help herself and turned to the side, smoothing the fabric over the dress over her stomach to see the slight change in her body and smiled. Unless you were really looking for it, it wasn’t noticeable. But Aelin was always looking at it when she could.

“You look good in that,” Rowan said from the doorway and Aelin looked over to see him leading on the door frame.

She smiled at him as he smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“You ready to go?” He asked, moving into the bedroom. “You’ll need a coat. There’s a chilly wind out there tonight.”

Aelin checked the tie on her dress and watched as Rowan flicked through the jackets and coats that hung in her wardrobe. He pulled out a simple black coat and Aelin nodded her approval of the choice. Holding it out for her he helped her slip it on, making sure it didn’t catch on the brace she was still wearing on her wrist.

She untucked her hair from the collar and checked herself over in the mirror one last time. “Alright, let’s go. We don’t want to keep the grandparents waiting.”

Rowan positively beamed at those words.

Tonight they were going out to dinner with both sets of their parents and would announce the pregnancy to them. Besides Rowan’s team and Elide, the parents would be the first to be told. Aelin felt a little bad that they weren’t the first to know, and she knew Rowan felt the same, but they couldn’t help what happened. After Aelin had sworn them all to secrecy they had all managed to keep the news to themselves. 

Aelin’s mother had been beside herself when she’d heard about the accident. They had been visiting family in Varese when Aelin had called from the hospital and Evalin had been ready to get on the next flight back to Orynth, but Aelin had assured her she was fine, and also left out the fact that she would be staying in a few days for observation. Rowan’s parents had been just as equally distraught but they had already planned to visit a few weeks later so they held out, very conveniently arriving around the same time as Aelin’s parents. It had been too easy to suggest that they all have dinner together.

Hand in hand the parents-to-be walked out of the apartment, down the flights of stairs, and onto the street. They were meeting at a restaurant that was walking distance from their apartment which was all part of the plan. When Aelin and Rowan arrived, both sets of parents were waiting outside chatting together. When Evalin saw Aelin she immediately broke from the group, gathering her daughter into a hug.

“Careful, Mum. My ribs,” Aelin squeaked and was then immediately being held at arm's length, her mother’s scrutinising eye running over her.

“I thought you said you were okay now,” Evalin said, a hand coming to rest on Aelin’s cheek.

“I am, just healing,” Aelin insisted. 

Evalin narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

Aelin’s answer was an eyeroll, bluffing her way through the physical toll her pregnancy was taking on her body. 

“Yes, Mother. I am absolutely fine,” Aelin assured her. “I’ve had this one fussing over me non-stop so.”

Evalin finally let go of Aelin and looked away from her to Rowan. “Hello Rowan. How are you?” 

“I’m good,” Rowan replied and they hugged each other briefly. 

By then everyone else had wandered over, with more greetings and reassurances that yes, she was fine Aelin returned to Rowan’s side. Rowan was just smiling knowingly as he let Aelin deal with the situation. She knew that if she didn’t get him inside soon and distracted by food he would spill the big secret before the big reveal she had planned.

“Shall we?” Aelin said and led the way into the restaurant. 

Dinner had been lovely. Aelin was eternally grateful that her parents and her in-laws actually got on. They were so distracted by the conversation they didn’t notice that Aelin had ordered a chicken instead of steak, like she usually would. But the only way to eat steak was medium in the very least and her doctor has been insistent that all her meat be fully cooked. They also managed to miss the fact she had kept to water instead of a glass of wine, although her father had looked very confused for a second there as Aelin told the waiter her denial.

Now they were trekking back up the stairs, almost to their floor. The parents were coming in for more chatting and probably another drink, Aelin was really counting on that drink part. Rowan’s eyes were brimming with excitement as he unlocked the door. He was too adorable.

Aelin breezed into the apartment heading towards the bedroom to drop off her coat, as she got to the door she heard Rowan offer everyone a drink. There was a general consensus which had Aelin grinning.

“Just water for me please,” Iris chimed in.

“Of course, Mum,” Rowan said from the kitchen.

Aelin met him there, where we had four tumbler glasses and a bottle of wine on the counter as he was grabbing a jug of water from the fridge. Aelin looked at the glasses, glad they had arrived in time. Each one read their respective grandparent name with EST April and the year engraved delicately on the glass. Rowan poured out the drinks, practically humming with restrained excitement as he did so. When he was done he picked up the glasses for his parents and Aelin did the same for hers. They were all sitting on the couch, Iris, Evander and Evalin on the seats and Rhoe was on the arm of it next to Evalin. Rowan sat in the single armchair once he relinquished his drinks, Aelin perching on his lap a moment later.

“How’s the station, Rowan?” Rhoe asked and the conversation started flowing again. 

Aelin was hardly paying attention, she could sense Rowan doing the same as they waited for one of them to realise. Her eyes kept jumping from parent to parent when finally she saw Iris go perfectly still and look at her glass, the water more easily showing the words, when her eyes went wide Aelin knew it was about to get going. 

“Evan,” Iris breathed, but her husband didn’t hear her. Then she started tapping his leg furiously as she said his name again. “Evan, Evan. Look at your glass.”

“What? Is it dirty?” He said and Aelin almost burst out laughing, Rowan was hiding his smile behind his hand.

Then it was Evalin who squealed.

Aelin looked over at her mother and already saw tears brimming in her eyes.

“Oh,” Rhoe’s deep voice said quietly as he turned his glass in his hand. “Oh.”

“Wait…” Evander said, still not quite getting it and held the glass at arms length as he squinted to read in engraving. When he did he almost dropped his drink.

“You’re pregnant?” Evalin finally said, her voice thick with emotion.

“You bet, Grandma,” Aelin told her, trying to cover her own fraying emotions with a little bravado. Rowan’s firm squeeze to her hip told her she had failed. 

There was a flurry of movement and then Aelin was being pulled off Rowan’s lap and being embraced by both her parents, very enthusiastically but gently. They let her go and congratulated Rowan while his parents congratulated her, then eventually Aelin was tucked into Rowan’s side, his arm snaking around her waist as he dropped a kiss onto her head. The newly announced grandmothers were wiping at their eyes and Aelin noted that he father’s eyes were shining in the light.

Then Evalin whirled on them, something akin to devastation on her face. “You were pregnant in the accident?”

Aelin held onto Rowan a little tighter as she nodded. 

“Oh, baby,” Evalin whispered and Rhoe pulled her in for a hug.

“That would have been terrifying,” Iris added.

It was Rowan who answered. “It was, but we were very, very lucky. And now we’re excited beyond belief.” 

Aelin looked up at Rowan then and he looked down at her. They had been incredibly lucky that Aelin had walked away from that accident with minimal injuries and that the baby hadn’t been harmed. As Rowan smiled and then kissed her, she knew she was truly the luckiest woman in the world. 

~~~~~

Thanks for reading *blows kisses to you all*

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[letsunity]

Not Afraid - Chapter 5

Summery -  

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

The war left many without homes, jobs, anything to live for. Their only option was the criminal life, stealing to survive.

The camp is small, with junk and scrap lying across the ground. The boss was building something they could sell to get credits, enough to leave Lothal safely. Even so, they'd have to start stealing from the city; the farms didn't have enough.

This Empire has to be better than the Republic. Unless it involved the war, the Jedi ignored those suffering, even turning a blind eye to slavers. The Empire promised food, shelter, pay; all people had to do is apply. A few in the camp had that plan, preferring the new military than eating scraps for pocket change.

As the boss was paranoid, they had several mines strewn around the camp. That would end up being their greatest enemy, however.

Blasters fired from above, striking the buried mines and setting them off. The explosions burned their eyes, heat and scrap flying into the air. The ragtag thieves scattered, confused and frightened by the sudden attack.

Smoke grenades landed nearby a boy, the bellowing smog obscuring his vision. As Alex looked around, desperate to find safety, he met the blaster of another boy. This one was only a year younger than him, maybe two, but had the eyes of a monster. He could've sworn that they shimmered yellow for a moment as the end of it hit his head.

Boba pulled a knife from his suit, throwing it at a thief's knee, practically removing it from their body. The mask over his nose and mouth shielded him from the smoke. He didn't need his eyes to acquire the targets; he just needed their terror.

One decided to attack him, which was a mistake. A female Twi'lek tried shooting him, but her aim was atrocious. Boba ducked down, his spiked boot striking her shin. As she fell, Boba grabbed her arm and rolled her over his back, sending her to the dirt. Calmly, he kicked away her blaster and placed cuffs behind her.

That's three down.

Another bandit tried their shot, using a machete instead. Boba's armour was fitted against primitive blades and slugs, so this was a pathetic attempt. Boba rose his arm to block the slash, scowling into the man's frightened eyes. With him distracted, Boba drove their arm into their chest, the machete sticking through his spine.

He spat blood on Boba's face, shaking in terror. He twisted the machete, listening as life gargled from the man's body. He kicked the corpse's stomach, ripping out the machete as he threw it into the shoulder of another.

Boba counted fifteen, a majority of them younger than twenty-five. They weren't a challenge, just part of the job. Given their lack of weapons, they're only grunts, worthless to the big guy.

"Got 'im!" Wrecker yelled, having caught somebody. "He's a squirmer, too!"

Boba walked towards the hulking clone, a grin growing on his face. The Phindian spat, despising the tiny clone.

"Great catch," Bossk complimented, hissing at the angry caught man. "How the mighty have fallen, huh, Eve?"

"Do not call Moralo Eval that degraded nickname. He will each your liver!"

"You know this guy?" Echo questioned, dropping a tied up girl. "Looks like a friend of yours."

Bossk raised a scaled brow at the jab, lips shifting back to hint at his teeth. Echo tried mimicking him, expecting it to be an intimidation display.

"Moralo Eval. He helped General Kenobi and Cad Bane attack the Chancellor," Hunter named, glaring at the man. "What're you doing on Lothal? Doesn't match your type."

"Moralo Eval escaped prison, not too difficult. He was pursued and crashed here. He'd have done the work himself, but better safe than sorry. Fortunately, since the Empire started their occupation of the capital, he's met many local rats."

The first person thing was always annoying. Bossk assumed it to be part of his narcissism.

Wrecker sat him down as Tech placed the cuffs, glaring at the angry Phindian. The sociopath analysed them, planning ways to escape and leave the planet. Jango's son knelt, staring the man into his deranged eyes.

"Jabba's going to love you, Eval," he grinned maliciously, imagining what the Hutt would do to him. "You help us, and I'll delay his pet getting a taste of Phindian. Know that if you refuse, I'll have to remove your limbs, given your expertise at escape. Bossk is always hungry."

Next was a staring contest, seeing who would back down first. Boba felt him mulling over his options, Bossk snarling behind him, snapping his jaws threateningly.

Echo was going to interfere, but Hunter raised his hand to stop him, wanting to see what happened next.

Having been told to 'guard' the ledge, Omega skipped over, interested in what went on. There were some people on the ground, some with blood on them. She'd seen it before, but not freely pooling around people.

Seeing some distress, Wrecker was quick to pick her up, keeping her at a distance from the battle. She wasn't ready to see any of that yet.

"What is it that Boba wants?" Moralo relented reluctantly, sneering at the teen.

"Biological chips are making the clones behave like droids. They follow any order given. That means if asked, they'd make you into a bottom bitch. If the clones have free will, they'll be easier to manipulate, exploiting their 'compassion'. We'll be helping each other further future endeavours."

In a second, it went from hostage to business deal. The sudden whiplash seemed normal for them, another part of this career. Even though it was wrong to help this guy, they got a lot out of it. Hunter wanted to understand this process more, understand how to proposition enemies into reluctant allies.

It's evident that these two hate each other but were willing to cooperate for a common goal.

"Moralo Eval will assist in this goal, though only for himself. Once complete, Moralo Eval and Fetts cease working together. Agreed?"

"Until we're done, you've got a deal," Boba nodded, using Wrecker's knife to cut through the cuffs. "Dengar's going to love this."

"That one is still alive?" Moralo said, genuinely surprised. "He expected Dengar to be dead by now."

"He continues to disappoint," Bossk added, suddenly friendly with the Phindian.

Despite having seen it with his own eyes, Echo couldn't fathom what he was looking at. Were all bounty hunters insane? They appeared to be!

"What do we do with the kids?" Hunter asked, motioning to the ones tied up. "The ones alive, anyway."

"Give 'em to the farmers and get our credits. The loth-wolves will clean up this mess," Bossk answered, looking up. "And it would appear that we have an audience."

Hunter looked up, his eyes meeting Fennec's orange helmet. Now discovered, Fennec slid down the ridge, shooting at the group.

"Amateur," Moralo sighed casually as he rummaged through the garbage.

He lifted a makeshift flamethrower, unintimidated by the sharpshooter. With a manic smile, Moralo burst a stream of flame towards the woman, the range further than it should be. Hunter was eager for round two, running alongside the fire to engage Fennec.

"Wrecker, help Hunter. I'll get Omega outta here," Echo ordered, helping the girl down. "Bossk, protect those kids. No them, no credits," he added, playing into the money motivation of the lizard.

"Not exactly, but fine, I'll keep them alive," the lizard huffed, sulking towards the targets. With the usual threat of eating them, he shoved them to their feet and started moving.

"I wanna help," Omega said, worried for Hunter and Wrecker. "I know she's after me, but I can still help."

"You are helping, Omega," Echo sighed, kneeling to be at her level. "By knowing that you're safe, the others don't have to worry. We're going to stay at the farm village and wait for them to come back, ok? It's a tactical retreat."

While she wanted to stay, Echo was right. By staying away from Fennec, they could handle her. With Echo, she reluctantly ran away with him, hoping that they'll be alright.

"Pateesa, Koose Shag Wata," Boba growled into his comms, shooting at the woman. Wrecker had no idea what he said, but he understood the next bit. "Throw me."

"Eh, what?"

"Just throw me," he repeated, still holding Wrecker's knife.

Wrecker shrugged and picked up the teen. With a running start, he happily lobbed the teenager, interested in what he'd do.

As anticipated, Wrecker threw him over the other hunter. The Phindian got the idea fast, shoving her into the location required. Boba threw the knife, getting the woman in the leg. He tucked and rolled, getting back on his feet with a few bruises. Angrily, she turned back and planted a well-placed blaster shot in his chest. If not for his durasteel, he'd be deader than Rako's career.

Hunter exploited this as he elbowed her, glaring.

"Why did they send you?" Hunter demanded, lifting her. "Why do the Kaminoans want Omega?"

"It's not part of the job to ask," she spat, headbutting him again.

She jumped out of another stream of fire, scowling at Moralo as he threw the empty item at her. Boba fired at her, not aiming for the head as Hunter wanted him to.

"Bounty Hunters aren't allowed to kill one another," Moralo provided, guessing that the clone was new to this way of life. "Moralo Eval is greatly interested in this 'Omega' you spoke of. He presumes she is part of this 'chip' business."

"Probably," Wrecker shrugged as Fennec ran back into the trees. "Should we go after her?"

"No," Boba answered, rubbing his chest. Before Hunter asked, Boba lifted a tracking fob with a smirk. "With any luck, we'll be one step closer to figuring things out."

"She'll find it. She's not stupid," Hunter sighed, feeling like a fool.

"That is what the fake ones are for," Moralo added as if it was obvious. "Moralo Eval is eager to learn of these chips. He likes the stupidity and incompetence of clones."

That is somehow supposed to be a compliment, but Hunter didn't like it. Wrecker looked over to Bossk, who was hissing and yelling at their pay. Curious, he walked over, counting thirteen.

"Don't ye worry, we're only gonna give ya to the farmers, no problem," Wrecker declared, punching Bossk's shoulder. "Yo nephew is mad. Told me to lob 'im!"

"Just like his dad and granddad," Bossk sighed proudly, sneering at the captives. "Any of you got a name? Calling you numbers is more of a Government thing."

"Alex," one of them said, glaring at the two. "I'm going to join the Empire and get rid of people like you."

"I look forward to seeing you try and fail," the reptile shrugged, casually lifting the boy like he weighed nothing. "How are you going to stop a guild that has outlasted not only the Republic but the previous Empire? Set your sights on something achievable, boy."

"It's Alex Kallus, and you'll fear me!"

"Aww, he's kinda cute," Wrecker said, unaware that the boy interpreted it as teasing. "Can we keep him?"

"No!" Hunter yelled, his new dad senses tingling.

He'd known these people for all of fifteen minutes, but Moralo found this group oddly entertaining. He did lust for chaos, and they were drowning in it.

"Moralo Eval finds this group entertaining. His cooperation is heightened."

"Your whole third-person thing is really annoying; you know that?"

"Moralo Eval is very aware, and it entertains him. Your irritation feeds him."

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

Fennec leaned against a tree, ripping her outfit to cover her heavily bleeding leg. Though her armour hid it well, the flamethrower burned.

She'd heard about Jango, having been a little girl when he came to her village. On his own, he decimated a small group of Death Watch remnants, a force of nature. After seeing him shove a grenade down one's throat, she couldn't help but be enticed. It inspired her to enter the underworld, to be like him someday.

She grieved when he died, but it wasn't surprising considering who he faced. Only that Jedi could ever kill Jango Fett; not even the ketamine frog would stand a chance.

There were even rumours that he faked his death, as he'd done so before.

Given that Fennec spent her life becoming a master huntress, she didn't expect much from a child. That mindset almost got her killed, as he missed her artery by half an inch. Maybe the stories were true, where he destroyed a Star Destroyer and beheaded the Quarzite dictator. She doubted it, but then again, he'd been trained by the master himself.

Guild law be damned; her next shot would be between his eyes.

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

When Highslinger was told to bring Slave-1 to the boss, he did not anticipate seeing Moralo again.

"Hey, Sling," Omega greeted, happy to see the droid. "How're you?"

Highslinger provided a thumb up, a signal of contentment. He calmly rose his middle digit to Moralo, intent on getting revenge for his shtick on Naboo.

"You're still upset about that?" Moralo teased, waving off the droid's irritation. "He isn't going to apologise. You'd have done the same."

That didn't change Highslinger's feelings on the matter.

"Bitching later, recovery now. Pretty sure my sternum's cracked."

"I can apply a bacta-patch," Omega chirped confidently. "Nala Se taught me how to do it when she was too busy."

"I'll show you where they are," he sighed, his chest burning like it was on fire.

As a Mandalorian, he knew how to tolerate pain. It was something his father taught him long ago.

Highslinger stepped aside as the boss showed the child into the ship. He liked the girl, finding her interesting and curious.

Part of working with the boss was the stance on children. He had few rules which he wouldn't bend, something other syndicates danced around. It was consistent, the pay was always equal, and Boba didn't screw him over. In fact, Boba looked at Highslinger like he was another person, not just a droid.

Droids are property, no rights in the future. Funnily enough, Clones were similar, so there was empathy.

Just being talked to like an individual was enough for Highslinger to swear loyalty to the young Fett. Not hunter loyalty, but the commoner's idea of it.

"Nala Se, Jango once spoke of that one. She's the sadistic one," Bossk hissed with disgust. "Dibs on biting through that one's throat."

"Stand in line," Hunter said firmly, getting an amused grin from Moralo. "What?"

"Moralo Eval is most curious. You lot aren't designed like the common fool duplicates, and neither is she. What's so special about Omega that makes her more of a priority over you?"

"We're trying to figure that out," Echo answered, disturbed by the thing's interested gaze. "Hunter and Wrecker have genetic mutation enhancements. Wrecker's strong, and Hunter can feel electric frequencies."

"As someone aware of the cloning process, Moralo Eval must disagree. Mutations do not equal such abilities; that's something else. Moralo Eval is invested in learning what that something is. It may answer why the long-necks desire the 'Omega' girl."

Inside the ship, Omega took off the helmet, feeling safe within the ship. Her eye ached slightly, but nothing that she couldn't handle. Boba sat on a seat, starting to unbuckle his armour. As he directed her to the compartment, Omega opened another one, seeing the faint gleam of silver and blue.

It looked like armour, but it made sense for him to have backups. She took out the medkit, opening it on the floor. Finding what she needed, Omega walked up to the teenager.

Thanks to being a medical assistant, she was familiar with scars. Boba was smothered in them, having one on each part of his body. His back and shoulders were far more interesting, though. It looked like a tattoo, similar to what Hunter had. Unlike Hunter, it wasn't imprinting an image onto the skin.

It was like something had pierced his skin and ink injected into the wound.

"Never seen one like this, huh?" the teen said, somewhat amused. "It's a thing my clan does; it's a ta moko. It's painful but worthwhile."

The scars were still visible on his back, but there wasn't any attempt to cover them. He had no concern with having them, even the few on his face. Given his job, it made sense that he'd get scars.

"What was that language in the Toydarian's house?" she questioned, placing the patch onto his bruised chest.

"Mando'a. Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc."

"What does that mean?"

"Better one big enemy that you can see than many small ones you can't," he translated, ruffling her blonde hair. "You're small; they're going to underestimate you. When they do, you will show that you aren't the Kaminii's pet anymore. Nobody is more in control of your life and body than you."

Her body is her own, nobody else's. She chose to stay with Hunter, and that's where she was staying. Boba, her sort of cousin, casually brushed away every comment Nala Se used to say.

"My body is mine. I could get a haircut, or what you have?"

"Your body, your rules. Unless you give permission, nobody can touch you where you don't want them to. You've got a right to privacy and comfort. Not just that, but you're free to find your own path in this clusterfuck of a universe."

She liked the idea of that. She can be a Bad Batcher like the others, be strong just like them. Nala Se couldn't dictate what she did anymore.

"I wanna learn Mando'a."

"I'm very pleased that you do. How about after we get paid, ad'ika?"

[ficforce]

Running Scared Part 2

Y/N sat on the raised platform that lead out to the very small garden of her home and her fingertips tapped nervously on the edge of the small table; Konro suggested they head out there to talk. She had pulled out the zabuton for them to sit on and he made her stay out in the warm, night air whilst he made tea in her kitchen. She could hear the voices of her friends and neighbours drifting over from the streets, sounds of games being played and a few friendly arguments over who was buying the next round of drinks - she was almost certain she heard Hinata and Hikage’s giggles from the other side of her fence.

Konro set the teapot down and poured for them both, “I can’t remember the last time we had tea out here, your tree got pretty tall… it’s almost as tall as Waka.”

“Which is still not that tall,” Konro looked at her and grinned, one of their past times had been picking on Benimaru. Y/N watched him as he looked over the dimly lit space, the lanterns all around town had brightened up everything but the stars were still perfectly visible, much more so than in the Cities. She hadn’t realised he wasn’t in uniform; his hair was pulled back as usual but the yukata seemed almost new, it was simple in a dark, navy colour that matched his eyes and at the shoulder seams, she noticed silver crosses providing a little decoration. They reminded her of the tattoos that encircled his biceps.

He didn’t seem to be as heavily bandaged as usual and somehow it made him look a little softer. Not that that made any sense to her but that’s what Y/N thought, “You’re missing the festival because of me…” He couldn’t tell her he wasn’t going in an attempt to make her feel better, he was dressed up for it and she also guessed he would have spent it with the twins, “I’m okay now, Konro. I would have spent the evening out here or by the window anyway.”

“I’m not that bad a company… besides,” he fixed her with a gentle but firm stare, “You agreed to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” He had only wanted to come out tonight in hopes of seeing her, it wasn’t quite the scenario he had envisioned though.

Y/N picked up her cup as a distraction and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, “Okay…”

x - -

“Y/N!” The woman’s head turned toward the closed hatch as she heard Benimaru’s voice - shortly followed by the distinct sound of Konro smacking the back of the younger man’s head. She laughed as Benimaru complained and opened up the hatch to see her two favourite Hikeshi, “‘bout time. I’m starving.” He took the bento she offered him and settled himself in the shade her doorstep provided.

Konro looked about ready to hit him again.

“Would you like some tea, Konro?” Her question brought the disapproving glare away from Benimaru and Konro’s expression softened for her as he nodded, he thanked her when she gave him a bento and he leaned on the counter to eat it, “I had to close earlier than usual today.” Y/N spoke a little louder as she prepared the drinks, “I sold out completely - though I made sure to save you two some food. I’m getting popular!”

The man swallowed a mouthful of rice before replying, “That’s great, Y/N. And you haven’t had any more trouble with those brats?”

“Not since you made one of them piss their pants,” she handed him a cup and Konro nudged Benimaru with his foot to get his attention, Y/N heard a muffled thanks from around whatever he was chewing on and smiled. “You didn’t have to go out of your way for me…”

He shrugged and took the cup she offered him, “Its all part of the job.”

“No, it’s not.” Benimaru’s voice piped up from the doorstep - followed by a small ‘ow’ as Konro kicked him.

“Yes. It is.” Maybe he had taken it a little further than usual but he didn’t appreciate the wannabe gang trying to extort money from Y/N’s business… or anyone else. The Hikeshi were supposed to keep the peace and stop it from becoming as lawless as the Empire seemed to think it already was. “If I didn’t scare the hell out of them they’d only come back, might makes right.” It was as simple as that; the strongest ran Asakusa. Konro was just glad that the Hikeshi were on the side of the people rather than a gang of thugs out for themselves.

Watching him eat for a moment longer, admiring his broad shoulders and the way the muscles in his arms moved when he lifted food to his mouth - a mouth she had thought about kissing…

Y/N felt her face heat up and quickly set about cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the supplies she had bought a little earlier. Konro had a way of looking intimidating whilst, at the same time, being the gentlest man she knew. His presence never failed to put butterflies in her stomach and make her giddy as a schoolgirl with her first crush.

She didn’t seem to notice Konro stealing glances at her as she kept herself busy, occasionally she would almost catch him but managed to play it off, smiling to himself as he thought it was cute that she could be so shy… He just hoped it was because she liked him too. “Y/N… you wanna go to that new bar with me tonight?”

“What?” Benimaru looked at him with an almost glare, he put his empty cup down by his side and crossed his arms, “You coulda asked me.”

Y/N returned to the counter, leaning over it just enough to see him at the side of her home, “Maybe he’ll ask when you’re twenty-one.” She tossed him one of the salted snacks he said he liked and grinned as he caught it with ease, “I know you can get hold of sake but good luck getting it in an actual bar, short stuff.”

“I’m taller than you… probably.”

The woman turned her head to look at Konro, her eyes widening as she realised their faces weren’t that far apart with them both leaning on the counter, the serious edge to her voice faltered a little, “D-don’t even think about sneaking him in.”

Konro chuckled into his tea; she could be quite motherly when it came to Benimaru. Placing the empty cup on the counter he leaned in just a little more and his hand moved to cover hers on the counter, “I was asking you.” It was fun watching her flounder at his obvious attempt at asking her on a date, he could almost feel the heat radiating off her cheeks and her shy smile only made him want to lean in the last few inches to steal a kiss.

“I… yeah, that sounds good…”

“I’ll pick you up at s-” the sound of someone screaming cut through his words and as the three of them looked in the direction it had come from a plume of black smoke rose into the sky. “Infernal…” Konro stood back up straight and then another plume appeared, followed by a third and fourth in quick succession before the alarm began to ring from the watchtower. “Y/N, go inside and don’t leave unless a Hikeshi says otherwise.”

Y/N nodded quickly and watched as the two men ran toward the centre of town. Closing the hatch and locking it tightly she stood still with her hands fisted in her apron - something wasn’t right… Surely that many people hadn’t combusted all at once?

A chill trickled down her spine as her fingers started to feel cold, letting go of her apron and shaking them out she ran to her room to grab an overnight bag in case she needed a temporary home in the guardhouse. It wouldn’t be the first time Benimaru wrecked her house.

And then she waited as it began to get unnaturally dark; the feeling of dread her only company.

It was hard to tell how quickly or slowly time was ticking by as she heard explosions from outside, often followed by screams and then there was what sounded like dozens of feet running past her house. A loud bang on her door made her drop her bag, “We’re evacuating to the river!” whoever it was yelling through her door was gone just as quick but she heard them yell the same at the next house and then the one after that. Y/N opened her door, stumbling back as heat washed over her face and the smoke assaulted her nose and mouth, through slightly watering eyes she saw that the sky was masked out by smoke, ash and flames as Asakusa burned violently. Crowds of people were running past her and she did her best to stay at the edge of it and not become affected by the mass hysteria.

This wasn’t normally how evacuations went, this wasn’t well organised and there was none of the usual bravado that Asakusa’s residents showed - they were terrified.

Red and orange flames jumped from house to house as if chasing them, and perhaps it was the panic but Y/N thought she saw the figure of a person in the flames. The thought flew from her mind as she felt someone push into her and sent her onto her hands and knees in the dirt. A knee knocked into her cheek and someone else stepped on her ankle, it was all she could do to turn herself into a ball to protect herself from being trampled. The crowd soon overtook her and Y/N bit down a pained sob as she tried to stand, hobbling forward a few steps forward before freezing solid - the turn at the end of the street, where all those people had run, had become an inferno.

Screams and yells that had been panicked morphed into ones of agony.

The woman couldn’t even draw in a breath as she watched burning people stagger and fall back into view. Some were infernalised, whilst most were burning alive; Men, women and even the children. The smell of burning hair, and flesh, and clothes ravished her senses and made her gag. Her inability to move, the fear paralysing her, made it possible for the burning crowd to stagger or crawl back towards her; it wasn’t until someone grabbed her injured ankle that she had the sense to runaway.

x - -

Konro’s hand went to the back of his neck and he couldn’t speak - or rather, he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known what she had seen or gone through, he hadn’t even known she’d gotten hurt or trampled or burned or anything. All he had known in the first few days after the fire was that she was cooking for anyone who needed feeding and that she came to the guardhouse a few times. “I’m sorry… I shoulda checked on you.” During her description of what had happened he had reached for her hand after she had started to cry, he gave it a small squeeze as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“You were so heavily sedated you barely knew which way was up… idiot.” His sudden guilt made her want to hit him because there hadn’t been anything he could do but at the same time, it was sweet of him. “I… I heard you and Beni through the wall that night.” His head tilted a little and she continued, “I locked myself inside the house and huddled up as far away from the door as I could and I heard you telling him he was at his limit and then it got really quiet and this… this horrible feeling came over me.”

Konro grit his teeth, he remembered what came next and he hadn’t known she was in the house - he could have killed her. He had taken out the houses around him and somehow left hers standing. Maybe he did it unconsciously? It was her home and her business, it was important to her so it was also important to him. “That was just before I put Beni out of commission. I didn’t want him burning himself out and ending up…” he gestured vaguely to himself, “Like me.”

“It sounded like a hell of a fight, the whole house shook and I really thought it was going to come down on top of me. I remember getting my first panic attack and passing out after I heard what must have been your Akatsuki rip up the ground,” Y/N felt his hand move onto of hers and when she looked up he was staring at the table with his head bowed, it wasn’t hard to tell he was berating himself and Y/N took her hand from his so that she could move to sit beside him. Leaning into his arms a little she took his hand in both hers, “What’s wrong?”

She was warm against his side, the weight on him wasn’t enough to bother his damaged skin too much and even if it did he wouldn’t want her to move. It was nothing short of a miracle to him that she wanted to be this close, especially after everything he had put her through, “I knew I’d frightened you…” Konro felt his voice crack a little and cleared his throat before continuing, still unable to meet her eyes, “It just wasn’t the same between us again and I couldn’t figure out why you were so uncomfortable near me… It was only today that I realised you live opposite the mess I made and now I find out you were in my… you were in range for the shockwave to have brought your house down on top of you - I could have killed you, Y/N!”

“That’s not it at all!” Without thinking, she grabbed his face with both her hands and turned his head to look at her, silently pleading for him to listen and actually believe what she was saying, “You nearly died, Konro, you gave all you had to fight for our Town! I’m not scared of you, I’ve never been afraid of you, Konro… I just…” She needed to tell him or she really would lose him, “I can hardly leave the house anymore, I was scared you’d ask me out and I’d have to say no and then you’d never speak to me again!”

He felt her hands beginning to tremble and caught them in his, bringing them down to her lap. Y/N looked down at their hands and then back at his face where he was gazing at her the way he used to; like she was something special and adored. She had expected pity but found none.

The Lieutenant reached out to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers, “I wish I had asked you sooner, so that you didn’t have to keep running away. I guess I was scared too; worried you might say no.” The man pulled away from her and with a ghost of a smile on his lips he opened up the pouch tied to his belt, “We don’t have to go out to have fun, I could come here and if you want to stay at the guardhouse then I’ll walk with you the entire way. I only took tonight off because I hoped I would meet you and give you this…”

He held out a kanzashi. It was a single round petalled flower on a hairpin, he hoped it was still her favourite colour and Konro watched her expression nervously, “I’m not great at making these but it’s the best one I could manage because they’re kinda fiddly.” When she didn’t react or say anything he started to doubt himself and was tempted to put the small gift back, “It’s a dumb tradition… making a kanzashi for the girl you want to take to the festival.”

“Konro… I…” Y/N’s face felt hot and she gripped the hand he had left on her lap, “I can’t go out there, I want to take it, I want to spend time with you again.” Tears pricked her eyes again and she looked down, “I can’t go out there, Konro! I’m sorry, I’m sor-” Her whole body fell forward as she was pulled to him, Konro hugged her to his chest and stroked her back; it was so similar to when he had calmed her down earlier.

“We don’t have to go out,” he slid the kanzashi into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “A man only goes to a festival for three things; Pretty women, sake and fireworks.” Almost as if he had timed it a whistle sounded up into the stars and burst into colour, “I have two out of three.” Feeling her turn her head so that she could watch the fireworks, Konro felt his heart flutter when her arms wrapped his middle.

Y/N sucked in her bottom lip, thinking as she watched the sky blossoming every colour imaginable, “You know, if you stay a little longer… I can find some sake.”

“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me, Y/N.”

[chaoticallysapphic]

the great divide part three

summary:  Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart. 

a/n: sooo there will probably be one or two more parts, I’m feeling one. I was hesitant to release this because my insecurities regarding my writing have kicked in and so I think this is good? But at the same time I’m unsure and so yeah. As always, thank you to @medeliadracon​ for beta reading this.

word count: 8K

He didn't make it. 

Baatar found Bolin with Varrick and Zhu Li in the woods and they almost beat him, but he used Varrick to get Zhu Li and Bolin to stop fighting. Your heart cracks as Baatar walks in with that same smug attitude with all three of them in cuffs behind him. Two soldiers push them inside until they are all in front of Kuvira. 

“Don’t torture us” Bolin begs. Kuvira stands from her chair, leaning against the desk as she glares at them. “Send these three away on the next train. Bolin and Zhu Li will be going to the reeducation camp for our most severe dissenters.” You whip your head around to stare at her, silently pleading for her to stop. 

She ignores you, which you shouldn’t be surprised by, as she rounds the desk and walks over to Varrick. “And you will continue to work on the spirit energy project under close, armed supervision.” She emphasizes the word ‘armed’ before swiftly turning around and walking back towards her desk. “I want it weaponized immediately.” 

Zhu Li does something unexpected though, and flings herself onto the floor by Kuvira’s feet, she pleads for mercy, swears her loyalty, and insults Varrick all in what seems like one breath. Your brows pinch together, in the three years you’ve known her she’s never seemed discontented with her life nor job. If anything you had thought she was secretly fond of the eccentric billionaire. 

Kuvira believes her though and sends Bolin along with Varrick away. Zhu Li is sent away to do…  well, you don’t know. Once everyone leaves it’s just the two of you and Kuvira is seething. Once everyone is out of earshot she goes over to her table of maps and sweeps her arms across them, effectively knocking everything to the floor. 

You jump in surprise before slowly walking over to her like you would an injured animal. She slams her hands onto the metal and practically growls with rage. “Did you know?” she spits out. 

She keeps her back to you and you stop midstep, lying has always been a bit so-so for you. You wouldn’t brag about it but I mean you’ve gotten away with secretly being with Kuvira, which involved a lot of lying, throughout the last three years and no one suspected a thing. “No, I knew he was unhappy with how we left Zaofu but I would have never imagined that he’d turn against us.” 

You come up behind her and cautiously slide a hand over her shoulder and wrap your other arm around her waist. One of her hands comes to rest on the arm wrapped around her as she tries to control her breathing. “Breathe, Vira,” you say calmly and kiss her back, she makes some kind of choked sound and you pull her tighter against you. 

“You won’t ever betray me… right?” she chokes out. Your heart cracks and with some effort, you turn her around to face you. You cup her face and pull her closer until your foreheads are resting on another. “Never, I would never betray family.” 

You know about her childhood, she had slowly opened up to you about it over the years and you knew that the effects of being left behind by her parents would never truly vanish. You knew you had to stop this before it got too far, but you’d do it to keep her and your future together safe. She has tears racing down her face and you're sure she’s imaging worst-case scenarios right now. “I’m staying by your side until the end of time,” you murmur and she lets out a weak chuckle at your melodramatic words. 

You don’t know how long you stand there comforting her but you certainly don’t mind spending your day with her in your arms. When the sun is starting to go down she checks for any sign of her breakdown in the mirror and fixes a few stray strands of hair from her bun. 

The stress of this fight along with being so close to home was starting to get to her, you realized. It’s probably why she’s been so affectionate, she’s losing her grip on her cool-headed facade. “I have some things to do, you don’t need to wait up for me tonight.” 

Your heart drops at her words, “Vira did I do something wrong?” From your knowledge Baatar isn’t even staying in the camp tonight, she ordered him to be the one to escort Bolin to the reeducation camp and watch over Varrick. 

“You did nothing wrong, I just have something that needs to be done so I won’t be going to bed until late. I don’t want you losing sleep while you wait for me,” she walks over to you, she doesn’t touch you but the look she sends your way reassures you that it’s going to be okay, at least for tonight. “I left a present for you in the tent, I hope you like it.” 

You send her a confused look, she never really gave you gifts before. She was too busy uniting the earth empire to shop or make personal items which you understood, you’d seen the personal toll it had taken on her.  

She leaves you to go discuss some plans for tomorrow if all things go well and you rush off to your tent. You pass some of the communal sleeping tents for soldiers and an infirmary before you finally open the flap to your small tent. Inside are two decent sized cots on either side of the tent with a small chest for clothes and such. 

On the left cot is something rather large wrapped up in leather. You unwrap the gift and what greets your eyes is metal, there’s a note atop the metal though and you hesitantly pick it up. Inside is Kuvira’s elegant penmanship and says “To keep you safe.” 

You carefully place the note down, you think you’ll keep it for sentimental reasons. When you pick up the metal you realize it’s armor. You bend it on and smile, it’s lightweight but is made from one of the toughest metals you can bend, there’s armor for your legs and arms that you bend on. It’s comfortable and there are sections on the tops of it that can be bent off like the metal that accent Kuvira’s uniform. 

You run your fingers down the smooth metal, and flush. This is unique and meant only for you, it wasn’t all that romantic per se but you loved it and would cherish it for the rest of your life. You bend it off and carefully place it in the chest before heading to the mess hall for dinner. With Bolin and Varrick gone you don’t know whom to sit with until your eyes land on Zhu Li who is eating at the far end of one of the long metal tables lining the marquee. You grab your plate of food and march over to her, once you're in front of her she looks up from her plate and her eyes widen a bit as you sit down across from her. 

“Bolin told us that you want to stop her too” she whispers, scared of others hearing.  

“I want to stop this, but I won’t hurt her” you reply, a group of young soldiers walks by with their helmets off, obnoxiously laughing about who knows what. You pick up your fork and take a bite of your food, “Unless Korra can work something out with Suyin she will take Zaofu, I thought I got through to her but I know her conversation with the Avatar has caused her to throw away my suggestion.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” Zhu Li replies. “If I can weasel myself into being a lab assistant I can try to sabotage the weapon but no one has given me any orders yet.” You set your fork down as you try to think up some kind of plan, honestly, you’d only been thinking about Zaofu but now you're wondering what else she has planned if she wants that weapon built. 

Two higher-ranked soldiers stop behind Zhu Li, the taller of the two clears his throat whilst the shorter one says “Kuvira wishes to see Zhu Li.” 

You both stand but they stop you when you begin to get out of your seat, “just Zhu Li.” Your brows pinch together as they take her away, leaving her meal behind you try to keep your distance as you follow after them. Thankfully neither seem to notice you as they lead Zhu Li to Kuvira’s tent. It’s two hours later, the sun has long since gone down, that Kuvira and her guards exit the tent but Zhu Li doesn’t. 

Your heart pounds at the possibilities that race through your mind, you take a step toward the tent when a hand wraps around your forearm. You whip your head around and meet the stare of one of Kuvira’s most trusted generals. “Kuvira asked me to make sure you get into your tent safely.” 

“What do you mean?” You yank your arm out of his grasp and frown. 

“She thinks it’s unsafe out here at night. Let’s get you back to your tent.” You hesitantly follow after him and glance around to see if anything strange is happening elsewhere but it all looks perfectly normal. Once at the entrance of your tent you give him a curt nod goodnight before heading inside. When you turn around you see the outline of his body as he stays outside your tent, standing guard. 

Your heart drops. You could earth bend out but that’s loud and he’ll hear you, then you’ll have to explain to Kuvira why you felt the need to leave which she won’t be happy with. You just want to make sure Zhu Li is okay. You sit on your bed for an hour as you try to come up with a plan to leave when the alarms begin to blare. 

Your stomach drops and you quickly exit the tent, the general tries to stop you from leaving so you bend off two pieces of metal from a nearby weapons crate to cuff his hands and bend the earth at his feet so he can’t run after you. 

You race between the tents and crates of supplies as you head towards all the commotion, floodlights are shining at a specific spot, Kuvira’s tent. Panic bubbles up your throat at the thought of something happening to her but the sight before you has you skidding to a halt. 

At least a dozen mecha suits are surrounding Suyin along with Wing and Wei whilst Kuvira walks away from the scene, your eyes land on Zhu Li who is laying in the bed behind them, shielding her eyes as the mecha suits shoot the three Beifongs with an electrical shock. No. 

Why would Suyin do this, she had to know it wouldn’t end well. The general you had trapped from earlier comes bounding down the path behind you and grabs a hold of your arm. “I am not going to get demoted because of your ass,” he spits out and drags you away, you don’t fight him as you look over your shoulder and see the unconscious Beifongs get dragged away.

When you get back to your tent the general all but tosses you inside and takes post once more in front of the entrance. Feeling defeated, you change into your pajamas. As you're pulling your tank top over your bare chest you hear the general talking to someone outside of the tent, it’s silent for a moment before a seething Kuvira enters, you see his shadow disappear, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Why would you leave?” She demands, taking a step closer to you. 

“I heard the sirens and was worried something happened to you!” You reply, your chest heaving as you glare at her. “I don’t care if a dozen guards are posted outside. If I feel that you may be in danger I am going to come running to aid you.” 

She blanches at your confession and takes a step back. Her fury visibly dissipates so you take a step forward and cup her face in your hands. She looks down at you with a look of confusion. It breaks your heart anytime she gets confused by your love for her. “What are you going to do with them?” 

Kuvira pulls away from your grasp and looks at the ground, it must hurt, they once considered her family. “I’ll have to use them to get Zaofu.” 

You glare at her, “you said you’d consider my option, did you even think it over?!” 

“With them, in our custody, we can take over Zaofu with minimal force, your family will be fine” she retorts, a look of frustration settling on her features. “It’s a good thing we have them or else taking it over could have turned into a bloodbath.” 

“Vira… We can never go back to Zaofu if you do this, please.” 

“If you want to stay in their good graces then leave!” You take a step back, your eyes widening. 

“I won’t leave you but by doing this I will resent you, this city was our home! I wanted us to move back here one day and introduce you to my parents, maybe buy a house in the main dome, and attend dance lessons again. We can’t have that future if you invade it.” 

Kuvira snarls, “I don’t have to listen to this.” She goes to leave and your heart drops, Baatar isn’t here but the idea of waking up without her insight sends you into a panic. All those mornings full of tears take over and you grab her wrist before she can. 

“Wait, just stay. Don’t just… run away while we’re fighting because you don’t like the subject,” your eyes brim with tears. “I’m deeply upset with you and I’m hoping that maybe you’ll change your mind, for me, please. But don’t go sleep somewhere else, you can stay on the extra cot just… just stay here.” 

Kuvira pulls her wrist out of your grip and nods, you go lay down on your cot and you watch as she changes into her pajamas before getting in the one across the way, her back facing you. 

You frown but will take whatever you can get at this point and turn the knob of the oil lamp until the flame is snuffed out. 

You wake up to the sound of the chest between the beds snapping shut and when you open your eyes you're greeted with Kuvira fastening her metal shoulder pads into place. You sit up, causing Kuvira’s eyes to snap up and look into your own. 

“I’m going through with it,” she responds. Your shoulders slump as you try to fight back your tears. 

“I won’t have any part of it” you spit out before laying back down and turning your back to her. You hear her groan out in frustration before storming out of the tent, leaving you to your thoughts. There has to be a way to stop this. You know if you just outright walk up and fight her not only will you lose but she’ll never forgive you.

 It has to be planned and calculated but there isn’t enough time to keep Zaofu from being invaded, maybe last night you could have done something, tied her up, and driven far away with her, but she’s probably already getting her troops into position. 

An hour or two later you convince yourself to get out of bed and get dressed, you stare at your armor with anger gnawing at your heart before you bend it on and storm out of the camp. It’s completely deserted as everyone is most likely taking over Zaofu right about now, as you turn towards Kuvira’s tent you slam into someone and stumble backward. 

Zhu Li falls to the ground with a thud and you let out a slew of curses as you bend down to help her back up. “I’m so sorry,” you immediately apologize. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t get hurt or anything.” 

You look around to see if perhaps there’s a straggler or two, but again it’s a ghost town. “Have you seen anyone, most specifically near Kuvira’s tent?” Zhu Li shakes her head and you grab her wrist before pulling her after you. “I can’t stop her from taking over Zaofu but I can try to bring this whole thing down.” 

Once you enter the empty tent you and Varrick's former assistant immediately sift through her piles of paperwork and plans to try and find something useful. So far it seems to be stuff you knew or had a hunch about, there were some blueprints for a couple of reeducation camps, you want to rip them to sheds and light this whole place on fire but you know you can’t leave any evidence of your snooping so you put them back and move behind her desk. 

Inside her drawers are more pointless papers, copies of contracts she’s made people sign, and an in detail map of the earth kingdom. You know you must be missing something, this can’t be everything. 

Curiously, you get onto your knees and look under her desk, there you spot a metal compartment that must be bent to open. You bend it open and out falls at least a dozen of folded-up papers. 

“Zhu Li'' you quietly call out and she immediately walks over to you, you place the papers on the desk, her eyes widen in relief as she picks up the first piece of paper and unfolds it. You grab another and read through the contents, it’s plans for after she wins, none of which look promising. You place it back down and pick up another, inside is some kind of blueprint for a massive mecha suit, you narrow your eyes as you try to make sense of all the many notes and numbers but you've never even seen an engineering blueprint before. 

"Zhu Li do you know how to read blueprints?" You ask, she rounds the desk and looks over your shoulder. "Yes, I've helped Varrick draw up quite a few." 

You hand the paper to her and watch as her eyes dart from one side of the paper to the next. Her eyes widened in horror. "This is a massive mecha suit, they plan to make it out of platinum…" 

Why would Kuvira need such a thing, Zaofu is the last place she has on her map. You sift through the other papers when your eyes land on a specific one. You unfold it and spread it across the table, you think you might be sick. 

Its battle plans, an intricate strategy on how to take over Republic City. "She never told me about this…" As you stand in shock Zhu Li zips into action, she lays the blueprint onto the table and finds a blank sheet of paper and some charcoal, placing the paper over the blueprints she starts to trace the plans for the mecha suit. "We can't stay here for too long, Kuvira might send someone to check on us." 

“We need to get this to the Avatar.” You grab another blank sheet of paper and a pen before writing down as much as you can about her planned attack. Kuvira always made it sound like after Zaofu it would all be over, every time she reassured you she’d always say “once we get to Zaofu we can drop this facade.” But with all these blueprints for different types of weapons that you know Baatar is most likely building, you realize she was lying. 

“How do we do that? It’s not like it’s easy to sneak out of this place.” Zhu Li pockets her copy of the plans and carefully folds the original before placing it back in the pile. You fold your paper that is covered, front to back, in vital information. You place all the documents back inside the hidden compartment before bending it shut once more. 

Truthfully you don’t know how you’ll do it, the only way you can think of is breaking out the Beifongs which has your heart racing. You’ve never done something like this, how do you break someone out whilst not blowing your cover? You both leave her tent and head to the back of the encampment, far away from anyone who might still be around. 

“I need to break out the Beifongs, you’ll go with them back to republic city to help Asami figure out a way to stop this mecha suit from causing any destruction while I stay here and try to do the best I can to weaken our force.” 

Zhu Li takes the paper you give her, she looks down at the folded document, trying to figure out what to say. “Bolin told Varrick and me when he broke us out of the lab.” Your eyes widen and it feels like ice has been poured all over you. You know Zhu Li won’t tell Kuvira what she knows but the years of keeping it a secret have programmed you to feel dread at her words. “It’s brave, what you're doing.” 

You gulp, “do you think, what with the deeper bond and all, someone can forgive their soulmate if they betray them?” It’s been on your mind since this morning when you decided that you weren’t going to sit on your hands anymore. Suggestions didn’t work, you had to stop this with force. 

“I hope so.” Zhu Li’s grip on the paper tightens just a bit and you realize you never asked her if she’s ever met her soulmate. 

“Tonight is our best bet, Kuvira will most likely move them to a more secure location in the morning. We should meet here at midnight tonight. Bring a backpack with some supplies for yourself, okay?” She places the paper in her pocket with the blueprints and nods. 

“You’re doing the right thing y/n,” she says in an attempt to comfort you. It doesn’t work. 

“The leftover mecha suits that are here, is there a way to discreetly sabotage them?” You ask, Zhu Li grins. 

“I made those with Varrick, that’ll be a piece of cake.” 

“We need to work on those immediately while this place is still empty…” You pinch your brows together as you think of another way to help. “Do you… can you make yourself one of those electrical gloves, I read the equalists used them and you might need one tonight?” 

“I don’t know where I would get the materials for that but I know what it takes to make one.” 

You both begin to jog over to the row of mecha suits left behind, Kuvira will probably have some of her weaker soldiers take these. Zhu Li grabs a wrench from a nearby work table and gets to work on disabling them, you stand guard. When she’s on her third one you hear a buzzing sound from behind you, you whip around and see the train fast approaching. Baatar shouldn’t be back so soon. 

You grab Zhu Li’s arm and pull her behind a crate as the train whizzes past, that nosy little shit has just made your plans ten times more difficult. “Is there some kind of faster way to dismantle them all at once?” 

Zhu Li shakes her head. “Not without it being obvious that they are damaged.”  

“We should keep working on these, I’ll try to scope out where Baatar is going so I know if we need to stop.” Zhu Li nods and gets back to work as you run towards the train platform. If you have to, you are okay with knocking Baatar out and locking him up somewhere until this is all over, but you know that’ll just make things more difficult. 

When you get close enough to the platform you hide behind a jeep and watch as Baatar and a few men get off, strangely enough, Varrick isn’t among them. Looking beyond the platform you see that Kuvira’s troops are gone, but some tracks lead to Zaofu… she went through with it. 

“Get me a jeep, I need to tell Kuvira what happened,” Baatar’s nasal voice breaks you out of your thoughts. One of his soldiers starts to head towards your jeep, fuck. You slowly back up and dive behind a crate to keep yourself from being seen. 

The engine revs to life, the jeep leaves a cloud of dust in its wake as the soldier drives over the platform to pick up everyone. Good, you're still alone. You hesitate, waiting to make sure they don’t turn back to the encampment and don’t move until the car is a mere speck in the distance. 

When you return Zhu Li is on the third to last one. Thank the spirits, you look around the area to make sure there isn’t any evidence of her work, no fallen screws or dented panels, but everything looks perfectly normal. Never in your life did you think you’d be doing something like this, going against your soulmate and attempting to sabotage a militaries forces

Your heart still pounds as you try to keep watch, with every little noise Zhu Li makes as she works, fear squeezes tighter at your heart. “I’m done,” she calls from behind you. 

You jump in surprise and place a hand over your heart, “sorry I-”

“I know” she gives you a reassuring look before she puts the wrench back where she found it. 

You're on your way to the mess hall with Zhu Li when you pass the weapons tent. Stopping in your tracks as an idea pops into your head you grab Zhu Li by the arm and tug her inside. “What are we doing here?” 

“If we can’t get you one of those shocker thingies then you need to pick out a weapon from here, it should be something small and easy to conceal.” Zhu Li nods and slowly walks over to a shelf lined with weapons. Her eyes drift between the weapons hanging up, then down to the ones left laying on a table.

You don’t want to rush her but it’s been a few hours and people might start coming back soon. After the most agonizing ten minutes of your life, she picks up some kind of gun with a thick, clear cylinder. “What is that?” 

“A tranquilizer. We can use this on any guards that we come across tonight.” She grabs a couple of refills and tucks them, along with the now emptied gun, into her jacket for safekeeping. You both leave after that and keep walking to your destination. 

As you reach it, you notice the first group of soldiers return. Both of you sit down and try to idly chat about things like where did you grow up? Or what made you become an assistant? So that anyone who passes doesn’t think anything suspicious of you two. 

As the sun starts to go down, more and more people have returned and the mess hall is filled to the brim with hungry men and women who seem to be celebrating their easy victory. 

You got up at some point and grabbed some food for Zhu Li and yourself, both of you seem to struggle with forcing the food down as everyone around you is laughing at the fall of the once-great Zaofu. It sickens you when you hear someone from behind talk about the defeat of the once great Beifongs. It’s only later, as you're walking back to your tent, that you encounter a complication. 

That same general from last night is standing outside your tent, waiting for you. “What do you want?” 

“Kuvira asked me to help you transfer your things into Zaofu,” he eyes you as he speaks. You scoff. 

“You can run back to Kuvira and tell her I am not setting foot in Zaofu.” You try to push past him but he grabs your forearm, his grip is so tight it causes you to hiss out. 

“I mean what I said about me not getting demoted because of some bratty friend of Kuvira’s who can’t follow orders,” he snarls as he leans down to get in your face. You heart pounds, he’s so much taller than you, so much bigger. You try to yank your arm out of his grasp but he pulls you closer. “Get your things so I can take you to Zaofu.” 

He pushes you into the tent and stands guard at the entrance, preventing you from leaving. You know if you told Kuvira what he just did he’d not only be demoted but fired altogether, but that requires walking into Zaofu and you can’t look at what she’s done to it. 

General Yin is high up, he’s one of Kuvira’s most trusted Generals. He’d probably know exactly where the Beifongs are being kept… 

You pack up everything into the trunk but keep your armor on and exit the tent. “I’m not leaving without my friend,” you say defiantly and stick your chin up, settling your glare on his face. He rolls his eyes in annoyance and says “then take me to them.” 

You walk over to where Zhu Li says she’d be sleeping and once in front of you and call out, “uh, Zhu Li?” 

She peaks her head out and pinches her brows together in confusion at the sight of you with the General close behind. “We’re going to Zaofu, make sure to get all of your things.” She nods and ducks back inside. A couple of minutes pass before she emerges with a backpack and an overcoat on. General Yin doesn’t think anything suspicious of it as he leads you to a jeep where you place your trunk in the back. 

Both you and Zhu Li sit in the back and he speeds off towards Zaofu, you don’t know what to do, you didn’t think about how you’d get him to talk, just that you would. Halfway through the drive, you shout over the whistling of the wind “I have to pee!” 

“Hold it!” 

“I can’t! I think I’m about to wet myself, just pull over and I’ll go behind a tree.” He pulls over towards the forest and puts the car into park. When you get out so does he and he even follows you to the tree that you pick. “Uhm… Some privacy would be nice.” 

He swiftly turns his back to you but remains close, you pull at the zipper of your pants so he can hear it, your heart is pounding so fast you can hear it in your ears and feel it in your fingertips. You’ve never attacked someone before. 

Without a second thought you bend the earth until it’s up to his waist, he lets out a shout of surprise and as he raises his hands to bend back you hit him right in chi on the side of his neck. When he tries, nothing happens. He lets out a panicked “what did you do to me?!” 

Zhu Li jumps out of the jeep as you zip your pants back up before walking around to look him in the eyes. “Where are the Beifongs being held?” 

“Like I’d tell you!” He squirms and continues to try to bend, he’s terrified. Perhaps in different circumstances, you’d feel bad for doing this to someone but he did grip you so hard you can already feel a bruise coming. This will teach him to be nicer to others.

You tighten the rocks around his waist causing him to let out a shocked groan of pain. “Tell us where they are and the damage I do to you will be minimal.” 

“Aren’t you Kuvira’s little pet?” He spits out. Your eyes widen at his implication and squeeze tighter. 

“I have a lot of pent up rage and I am not afraid of hurting you!” You shoot up two more pieces of earth that grab onto his hands and bend him back. He cries out in pain and you hear Zhu Li gasp behind you. “Now, where are the Beifongs?” 

When a minute goes by and he doesn’t respond, you bend him back further. “Fine! Okay fine just please stop” he shouts. You let go of his hands and he slumps in the piece of earth holding his lower half tightly. “They’re being held in some wooden cage outside of the city, Kuvira has them on one of those special trucks for transport.” 

Special trucks… Those are platinum. “How many guards?” 

“I-I don’t know” he looks between the two of you, “I really don’t know please don’t bend my arms back again.” 

“Give me an estimate, you’re one of Kuvira’s top men. How many do you think she’d station around that truck?” 

“Probably five or six, they're important.” 

Zhu Li sighs and steps forward. “You're gonna take us to the truck and if you make one wrong move I won’t stop y/n from doing whatever she wants to you.” Your eyes widen a fraction, you’ve never heard her talk like that before. 

He vigorously nods and you bend the rock that keeps his body held firmly away. Before he can even think about attacking you, you bend two of the extra pieces of your armor to cuff his hands. “Zhu Li, you should keep your gun out,” you say to her, she nods and pulls it out of her jacket. General Yin's eyes widen as she points it at him. “Well, we don’t have all night.” 

He stumbles through the darkness of the woods as he leads you uphill. Zhu Li keeps her finger on the trigger of her tranquilizer as you keep your hands at the ready, every step you take you feel the earth around you to keep yourself prepared in case he tries to run. 

When you see lights up ahead you wrap a piece of metal around his mouth and put your hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. Between the trees, you can see it’s one of those massive trucks with a roof over the bed, the back is facing you which offers you a glimpse of Huan, you think his name is. He has his face pressed against the side of the wooden cage as he stares off into space. 

There are six guards like General Yin predicted. “We should knock him out,” you whisper to Zhu Li. She nods and points the gun at his back before pulling the trigger, a dart shoots out of the barrel and you hear him let out a muffled groan before he slumps over. You wrap your arms around him to keep him from falling onto the floor, she wraps her arms around him to help gently place him on the floor. For good measure, you bend the earth beneath him until only his head is sticking out. 

You and Zhu Li crouch behind a large boulder as you peek around to check out the scene. “How do we do this?” 

“They can’t see me, we already have to figure out what to do with General Yin…” You reply. 

“Can you bend from behind this rock? You could make some kind of distraction and I can try to take them out with the tranquilizer.” It’s the best option and only idea that either of you can think of, so you nod. 

You peek around the rock again to get a sense of the layout before whipping back behind and letting out a deep, shaky breath. You can’t fuck this up, this is not the time to run off crying or be weak. This is for her, for Kuvira, you remind yourself. This is for your future and happiness. 

When you lean forward you have half your face hidden behind the rock and you're knelt low to the ground to try and offer you coverage. 

“Do you know when our shift is over?” One guy asks. You pause to listen in. 

“I think like an hour or two,” another says as he kicks a rock. “This is so boring.” 

“I know right, everyone is celebrating right now and we’re stuck on guard duty.” You roll your eyes at the one guy's complaint before taking a deep, steady breath. You got this. 

Placing a palm on the ground, you slowly clench your fist causing a large crack to go right underneath the center of the truck. 

“What the fuck?!” With both of your hands, you push with all your strength and the crack widens. Zhu Li takes the opportunity and shoots one of the guards in the very back of the neck, he falls with a thud and the guard closest to him turns around. He opens his mouth to shout, so you bend off a piece of metal from your armor and shoot it towards him. It wraps around his mouth right as Zhu Li points her gun towards him and pulls the trigger. 

Two down, three to go. 

“Show yourself!” One shouts. One of them starts to bend bushes out of the way to try and find where you're hiding, you tap Zhu Li’s shoulder and point to him, she seems to get the message because she takes him out next. The only problem is the other two men saw exactly where the dart came from. Fuck. 

There’s a medium-sized rock next to one of the two, so you bend it and fling it towards him. He narrowly jumps out of the way, doing that distracts the other guard which gives Zhu Li the chance to shoot at him next. “I don’t have any darts left,” she says in a panicked voice, you’ll have to take this guy out the old fashioned way. “Well I guess we’ll have two guys to worry about,” you say before revealing yourself. 

The guard pauses, his eyes widen as he sees you take a step towards him. “But…” 

You charge, shooting a piece of the earth into the air, you twirl with the grace of a dancer and fling it at him, with the force of your throw it speeds towards him. He shoots up a small wall made of rock to protect him, your rock hits. Due to the impact, parts of his wall crumbles. You can see him because of that crumble, see him running towards the driver’s seat of the truck. 

Every car has a radio… You race forward and bend a wall up that blocks the door to the driver's side of the car, whilst he breaks it down you advance behind him and grab his arm. He whirls around to stare at you in horror. He pushes against you, effectively making you stumble back. You think of Bolin, of how he did that once and you fell onto your back with a groan. You think of the days spent learning how to take down someone with your fists, but most importantly you remember what he said one day. 

“You might hate fighting, but one day you’ll need to think about what's for the best and throw a punch.” Taking down this greasy asshole is what's best, you tell yourself as you punch him in the nose. 

“Fuck!” He stumbles back and clutches his nose, whilst he’s distracted you bend the earth underneath to effectively trap his body from the collarbone down. There’s blood trickling out of his nose, you’ve never made someone bleed before. This is for the best. 

You bring your hand down in the same spot you did General Yin, rendering the guard of his bending so you don’t have to worry about him escaping. You turn around and see Zhu Li look at you with this look of surprise. “Who knew you could throw a punch,” she says, breaking the silence. 

You both head to the opening of the truck. “Y/n?” You hear Suyin say, she grips the wood and looks at the both of you with wide eyes, “Zhu Li?” 

“Is there a door to this thing?” You point at the cage and Suyin looks up. “It’s above us but it’s locked.” You nod and look over at Zhu Li. 

“One of these guards probably has a key or something we can use to break it open.” You both search the guards but come up empty, even the guy you punched doesn’t have them, which when you bend some of the earth away to check his pockets but still keep his feet and hands encased, he curses you out. 

“Kuvira will find out about this, she’ll kill you in an instant” he spits out in rage. You look up and into his, part of you wonders if she will. You don’t think so, but you’ve seen her slipping these past few days and it seems she left a piece of herself at each stop you guys made during the tour. 

“That requires someone telling her,” you say as you bend the earth back up to his collarbone. No key… You walk over to the truck entrance and sigh. “Zhu Li, can I see your gun?” 

She gives it to you, sending a quizzical look your way. You ignore it as you climb inside and then climb to the top of the wooden cage. You grab the gun so the handle is facing downward, your hands gripping the barrel.

Before you begin, you look into the openings of the wooden cage and make eye contact with Suyin. “I have terms,” you say, everyone looks shocked. “If I let you out, Kuvira won’t be imprisoned, instead sh-” 

“Y/n, she has to face the punishme-” 

“She will be put on house arrest in a city of my choosing. If you try to imprison her then I expect the same treatment for your son.” Silence follows so you continue. “You won’t try to kill her again and you will take Zhu Li, along with these two guards, with you to Republic City where you will give the Avatar vital information we found.” 

“Y/n she’s a monster, nothing can be done to fix the damage she’s cau-” You squeeze your eyes shut. You are so done of being talked over and interrupted, of being silenced. 

“She did what she thought was best, if you had put your pride aside and helped the earth kingdom when asked we wouldn’t be put in this mess. Her intentions were pure when this started, but trying to bring order when you're just some nobody isn’t easy. Sacrifices were made and she’s lost herself but she’s still in there, I know it. I will leave you in here and turn my back on you, on this, if you don’t agree to my terms.” 

Your palms feel sweaty and you have to cling tighter to the gun to keep it from slipping. Neither of you breaks eye contact, you glare into her green eyes as you await a response. Suyin’s eyes widen and a look of… recognition? Settles on her features. 

“She’s your soulmate, isn’t she?” Very slowly, you nod. “I knew Junior wasn’t it.” Suyin clenches her fists as she sighs. “Fine, I agree to your terms.” 

“If you break your promise, I’ll destroy everything.” You whisper the last word but she hears you loud and clear. Suyin gulps and nods in understanding. As you exhale you smash it down onto the lock, it rattles. You do it again, as hard as you can and this time there’s the smallest of cracks. You keep doing it, your arms ache but you have to get them out and quickly. 

Soon your chi block might wear off on that one dude or the guards for the next shift might show up. It feels like all your dreams come true when it finally snaps open. You toss the gun to Zhu Li who catches it. You fling open the latch and climb down. 

Suyin and Baatar Sr. give their kids a boost so they can climb out. After all three are out, Baatar Sr. helps Suyin out, once she’s out she lays flat on her stomach and grips onto him, helping pull him out. 

You climb out of the truck and sigh. “You need to take General Yin and that-” you point at the guard behind you, the one still awake “one as well.” You bend the earth away from the guard, Wing and Wei pick him up and carry him over to the bed of the truck. You lead Suyin over to Yin, who is thankfully still passed out. You both bend the earth back into the ground and each takes aside as you lug him over as well. 

“What are you going to say?” Zhu Li asks, you pinch your brows together and look down at your feet. 

“I…” You begin. You look around at the scene before you, General Yin and that guard can bend earth, there are obvious works of a bender at the scene. “You and General Yin teamed up together to break out the Beifongs, Yin was working with the guard as well…” 

“She won’t believe it” Suyin pipes up. “You're squeaky clean and he’s one of her top generals.” 

Suddenly the image of her on the verge of a panic attack flashes to life.

“Did you know?” she spits out. 

She’s already suspected you once in the last two days, Suyin's right. “You should come with us,” Zhu Li says. You shake your head and purse your lips. 

“Maybe if I’m a bit messed she’ll believe me.” 

“What do you mean?” Baatar Sr. inquires. 

“I need one of you guys to uh… hit me in the face.” You look at everyone and they all look at each other in contemplation. It’s Wei who steps up as he pushes his sleeves up for dramatic effect. 

“I’m pretty angry at you and Kuvira so I’ll do it.” You let out a weak laugh and square your shoulders, Suyin places a hand on Wei’s shoulder and looks into your eyes. “You don’t need to do this.” 

“Yes I do, we need to make this believable,” you look over at Wei. “Leave my eyes alone, you need to leave a mark though.” 

Wei lets out a deep sigh as he gets into a fighting stance, you squeeze your eyes as you wait for impact. A minute stretches by and you're about to tell him to just do it when his fist collides with your cheekbone on the right side of your face. Intense pain encases your face as you stumble back. Before you can fall someone catches you as you cradle your face in pain. 

That is going to leave a mark. Zhu Li places you back on your feet, you faintly hear Suyin scolding Wei. “I need…” you groan as more pain shoots into your cheekbone from moving your mouth. “I need Yin’s empty dart.” 

Zhu Li looks through her jacket pockets before pulling it out and handing it to you. “Can you get back to the jeep by yourself?” 

“I’ll be fine, you guys need to hurry though. A guard switch should be happening soon.” The three Beifong children pile into the trunk of the car along with Zhu Li as Baatar Sr. heads to the driver's seat, Suyin stays behind for a minute as she gives you a quick once over.

“I… I promise to stick to my terms.” You nod, scared of the pain that will most likely happen if you smile, she slowly walks over to the passenger seat and climbs in. The engine roars to life and soon they are speeding down the dirt road that leads to a tunnel. Your walk back to the jeep is agonizing, it’s almost pitch blackout and every twig that snaps has you spinning around to see if someone’s following you. 

When the jeep finally comes into sight you let out a breath of relief. You probably look a little too polished so begrudgingly you cup some dirt in your hands and smear some on your good cheek, neck, and a little bit on your clothes for good measure. It has to look like you were knocked out and put up a fight. 

You set the dart onto the passenger seat and let your hair down from your updo, Kuvira makes sure all the women in her command have their hair out of their face to keep distractions to a minimum. Running your fingers through it a few times to mess it up you look in the rearview mirror of the car and sigh, this is the best you're gonna get. 

Putting the keys into the ignition, you drive towards the place you once called home.

[supermarvelgirl15]

Home- Chapter 2 (Sanctuary)

Summary: Din and Jesla team up with an ex-soldier to protect a village from Raiders. Jesla tells Din a little about her upbringing.

Pairing: Eventual Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) × OC!Jesla Gavdo

Word Count: 4,855

Warnings: Violence, gun TW

A/N: This is the longest thing I've ever written, oh my gosh. Anyways, remember that you can send in requests/asks for side stories for this series! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

    Jesla sits in the seat beside the Mandalorian in the cockpit with the Child sitting on the control panel. It's been silent between the three of them since they had first taken off. The Mandalorian didn't strike her as much of a conversationalist, but Jesla didn't have any room to talk. She rarely ever conversed with anyone.

   However, she was certain the lack of conversation was caused by the one that had occurred earlier. It wasn't exactly a normal exchange of words.

   “You're like... him?” The Mandalorian asked incredulously. Jesla looked back down at the Child, holding eye contact with him for what felt like, to her at least, an eternity. To the Mandalorian it almost looked like they were communicating silently.

   Finally, Jesla nodded as she decided her decision. If she was going to protect this youngling, she had to be honest with her new acquaintance. But... she didn't have to be totally honest with him.

   “Have... have you seen him use the Force?” She asked, once again looking back to the Mandalorian. 

   The Mandalorian tilted his head slightly in confusion, his modulator picking up his quiet “um.” Jesla rolled her eyes before holding her hand towards a crate that was in the corner of the hangar. As she moved her hand up, the crate hovered a couple feet off the ground. The Child dropped his ball and made a surprised cooing sound as he watched.

   Din also watched in what he wasn't sure was shock or amazement. How did he get himself mixed up with these beings that could move things with their minds? 

   “The kid did that... with a mudhorn,” he said, answering Jesla's question. Jesla nodded and lowered the crate back to the ground carefully. “What... are you?”

   Jesla wasn't sure how she was supposed to answer that. She surely wasn't a Jedi and she was no longer a Sith. She was just... her. The kid, however, he used the light side of the Force, but he wasn't quite a Jedi. Not yet anyway. How was she supposed to explain all that to a man that didn't even know what the Force was?

   “We're... one with the Force. And we're both hiding from the Empire,” she finally answered.

   The Child starts pushing buttons on the control panel, causing a loud beeping sound. The Mandalorian reaches over and turns it off. “Stop touching things,” he chastises the Child gruffly.

   Jesla snickers quietly as she watches the kid look at the Mandalorian innocently and provocatively moves to push another button. The ships starts shaking and doesn't stop until the Mandalorian turns that off as well. He then grabs the Child and sets him in his lap.

   “Let's see... Sorgan. Looks like there is no star port, no industrial centers, no population density. A real backwater skug hole, which means it's perfect for us. Nobody's gonna find us here,” the Mandalorian tells Jesla as he flies the ship into the planet's atmosphere. “Ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months, you little womp rat?” He asks the Child rhetorically.

   He lands his ship in a clearing in the woods carefully. “I'm gonna go out there and I'm gonna look around. It shouldn't take too long,” the Mandalorian says as he gets up and puts the Child in his seat. Jesla nods in acknowledgement, checking to see if her blaster was in good condition. The Mandalorian then turns to give his attention to the kid. “Now... don't touch anything! I'll find us some lodging, then I'll come back for the both of you. Stay here with her. Don't move. You understand? Great.”

   As he leaves the cockpit, the Child immediately climbs down the chair and starts following the Mandalorian. Jesla watches in amusement as she too follows him, seeing when the Mandalorian finally notices him. He sighs as he looks down at the Child before looking up to also see Jesla. “Oh, what the hell... Come on,” he grumbles as he leaves the ship, both the Child and Jesla following him through the woods.

   They all continue to walk until they come up to a common house, which they enter. Jesla watches as the other patrons look and point at the trio. She makes eye contact with a warrior-like woman, immediately taking in her tattoos; she was a Rebel shock-trooper. The Child getting startled by a tooka-cat makes her finally break eye contact, subconsciously pulling her hood down over face. When the trio takes a seat at a table, a proprietor walks up to them.

   “Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?” The proprietor asks, looking between the three of them. 

   “Bone broth, for the little one,” Din answers. The Child's ears perk up at the promise of something to eat. 

   “Oh, well, you're in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there's plenty. Can I interest you both in a porringer of broth as well?” The lady asks. Din looks over at Jesla, who just shakes her head. He shakes his head as well as he tells the woman no.

   The proprietor goes to walk away, but the Mandalorian stops her. “That one over there, when did she arrive?” He asks as he nods towards the warrior-like woman that Jesla had seen earlier. She was glad that she wasn't the only one that noticed her.

  “Uh... I've seen her here for the last week or so,” the lady answers. 

   Jesla ignores the rest of the conversation between the Mandalorian and the proprietor as she watches the Rebel shock-trooper out of the corner of her eye. She watches as the woman looks over at them before she gets up from her table and walks out of the common house.

   She knocks the side of Mando's boot with her foot, drawing his attention to her. Jesla glances over at the now vacant table. Din looks over and sees that the woman was no longer there. He gets up and goes to leave before looking between the Child and Jesla. 

   “Keep an eye on the kid,” he tells her before exiting the common house. 

   “I'm not a babysitter!” Jesla calls after him as she throws her hands up in the air. The proprietor comes back and places the broth in front of the Child. The Child grabs it and takes a sip, observing Jesla with its big brown eyes.

   Only if her master could see her now.

   The Child carefully slides out of the chair, careful not to spill his soup, and heads towards the exit. “Where are you going now?” Jesla grouses as she hurries to catch up with him. With a creature so small, it tends to get around pretty quickly.

   She finds him outside, watching the Mandalorian and the Rebel fight. They have each other at blaster point before they both notice that they were being watched, due to the Child's loud slurping. The woman takes her blaster off the Mandalorian and points it at Jesla, who swiftly draws out her own blaster.

   “Imp,” the woman growls, her eyes narrowing at Jesla. The Mandalorian looks up at Jesla, his helmet tilted slightly.

   “And you're a Rebel,” Jesla shrugs as she places her gun back into its holster. The woman hesitates before she too puts away her blaster.

   Din looks at Jesla for a few seconds longer before turning back to face the dropper. “You want some soup?”

   Back in the common house, the woman- whose name was Cara Dune- and the Mandalorian converse with one another, as if Jesla wasn't there to begin with. In all honesty, she didn't have anything to say. Looking back, Jesla regretted fighting for the Empire, but it was too late to change the past. She had killed many Rebels, both as a sharpshooter and as a Sith, and the Rebels had killed many of her brothers in return. Jesla only joined the war in the first place because she had to be loyal to her brothers, because she didn't have much of a choice. Now, she knew that her brothers didn't have a choice in the matter either. However, she did choose to become a Sith. Whether she regrets making that choice or not, she still didn't know.

   Jesla is brought out of her thoughts by Cara suddenly standing up from the table. “Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first. And I don't share with Imps,” she says, glaring at Jesla as she hisses the last part. Cara finishes her soup, sets the cup down and walks away.

   “Well, looks like this planet's taken,” Din murmurs to the Child. He looks over at Jesla before getting up, not saying anything to her as he picks up the Child and walks out the house. Jesla scoffs, getting up to follow him.

   She quickens her pace until she gets beside him, finally slowing down to match his. The Child looks over at her, tilting his head as he coos. Jesla smiles softly back at him, resisting the urge to scratch his head. She had to admit that he was, in fact, adorable.

   “So... you're Imperial?” Mando questions, keeping his attention on the trail in front of him.

   Jesla swallows thickly as she nods. “Well, I used to be. I'm not anymore,” she answers, licking her lips.

   “What's an ex-Imperial sharpshooter doing running away from the Empire? Is it the same reason why they want the kid?”

   This is your chance to come clean.

   “Yes.”

   Never mind.

   Neither of them said a word after that, silently walking the rest of the way to the Razor Crest. Once they get there, the Mandalorian hands the Child over to Jesla, saying that he needed to fix some things before they took off. Jesla takes the kid inside and places him on the floor, grabbing his little ball.

   She sits cross-legged across from him, cupping the ball in her palm. The Child watches as Jesla makes the ball hover above her hand, his ears perking up. He coos as he reaches for it, stretching out his little hand. Jesla laughs softly, dropping the ball in her hand before handing it to the kid.

   “Can you do that too?” She asks him, gesturing to the ball. The Child looks to her, then his ball. He holds the ball out in front of him and... proceeds to put it in his mouth. Jesla quickly gets him to spit it out, wiping his slobber off with her sleeve. 

    Technically, Jesla should be able to communicate with him through the Force, but she just didn't know how. Her master didn't exactly teach her. At the time, it wasn't something that she needed to learn. Luke tried to teach her once, but she got too frustrated when it didn't work on the first few tries and just gave up. She had said that it wasn't that important for her to know. Oh, how she turned out to be very wrong.

   Once nightfall came, Jesla walked outside the Crest to check up on the Mandalorian. She saw that he was still making repairs as she walks up to stand behind him. “Do you need some help with that?” She asks as she looks at the opened panel from over his shoulder.

   Din doesn't look at her as he continues with his repairs. “No. I got it,” he mutters shortly.

   Jesla crosses her arms as she leans back on the ship beside the Mandalorian. “Look, Mando. If we're going to work together, you're going to have to trust me to help out,” she points out, gesturing with her hand.

   “I let you watch the kid don't I?” The Mandalorian quips, looking at her for a brief second. She goes to reply, but stops when she sees two men approach them. Jesla hits his arm and nods at their new company. Din looks over his shoulder, but then proceeds to not acknowledge them.

   One of the men clears his throat before speaking. “Excuse me?”

   “There something I can help you with?” Din asks dismissively as he continues working.

   The two men glance at each other. “Uh... yeah... Raiders,” he answers. “We have money,” the other quickly adds.

   “So you think we're some kind of mercenaries?” Jesla queries, pushing herself off the side of the ship. They wouldn't be entirely wrong if they thought that she was.

   “He is a Mandalorian, right? Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor... that is Mandalorian armor, right?” One man questions, turning his gaze to Mando.

   “It is.”

   One man shoots the other an ‘I told you so’ look before looking back at the couple in front of them. “We have money,” he reiterates.

   Jesla places her hand on her hip, looking the men up and down. “How much?”

   “It's everything we have. Our whole harvest was stolen... krill... we're krill farmers. We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in,” one man expresses.

   The Mandalorian turns to look at them as one man holds up a coin purse. “It's not enough,” Mando states before walking away. Jesla follows suit, the men also following them. She didn't feel like doing a job anyway.

   “Are you sure? You don't even know what the job is,” one of them call out as they continue to follow the pair. 

   “I know that it's not enough. Good luck,” Mando condemns. He opens the hatch in the men's faces, causing them to stumble back startled. They finally start to move away as Jesla and Din walk up the ramp.

   “Took us the whole day to get here. Now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere.”

   The duo halts and turn to look at each other. “Where do you live?”

                                                   ∞∞∞

   Jesla walks beside the Mandolorian as she mutters to herself. “I don't know why we need the dropper. We can handle the Raiders ourselves,” she complains. 

   “I didn't ask you to come with me,” Din grunts, surveying the area around them. Jesla moves in front of him, walking backwards so she can face him.

   “I think it's just because you don't think I'm up for the challenge. I've already saved your life once and you know what I can do. From what I've seen, you're a pretty good fighter. We don't need the Rebel, we can't trust her,” she explains as she gestures with her hands. 

   The Mandalorian stops, making Jesla stop as well. “But I can trust you?”

   Jesla licks her lips as her eyes dart away from the man in front of her. “I just want to protect the kid,” she admits quietly. Din watches her, surprised at her vulnerability. He sighs before pushing past her to head to the source of the light that seemed to come from a campfire. Jesla closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath to keep her emotions at bay. She hoped the kid was worth all this.

   She didn't talk the entire way to the village, nor get any sleep. Mando, Dune, and the Child fell asleep however and didn't wake until they arrived at the farming village. Children ran up to the sled, all of them instantly enamored by the Child. Farmers also came up to help unload the cargo.

   A woman, Omera, showed them where they would be staying. Jesla and Din both walked into the barn carrying some of their cargo.

   “I hope this is comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn,” Omera apologizes as she pulls up the blinds.

   The place was definitely better than most places Jesla has stayed in throughout the last few years. “This'll do fine,” she tells her.

   “I stacked some blankets over there,” Omera says, pointing to a corner in the room.

   “Thank you. That's... very kind,” Din nods at her appreciatively.

   A little girl appears in the doorway, looking at the newcomers. Both the Mandalorian and Jesla watch her cautiously, causing the girl to hide behind the doorframe. Omera goes to pull her into sight again, holding her tight to her side.  

   “This is my daughter, Winta. We don't get a lot of visitors around here. She's not used to strangers,” Omera informs the duo. She then turns to her daughter. “These nice people are going to protect us from the bad ones.”

   Winta looks up at the pair sheepishly. “Thank you,” she says. The Mandalorian just nods as Jesla offers her a small smile. 

   “Come on, Winta. Let's give our guests some room,” Omera says as she takes Winta's hand and leaves. Jesla continues to look on after them, her mind briefly going back to her own mother. She shakes it off, not wanting to be reminded of the woman that abandoned her.

   Later on throughout the day, the Child is in a crib while Mando checks over his rifle. Jesla sits in a corner on the other side of the barn, cleaning her MK. She was ready to take care of the Raiders so she could relax for once in her life.

   Omera enters with a tray of food, which was most likely for the Mandalorian, with her daughter behind her. Jesla watches as Winta takes the Child outside with her to play with the other children. She tries to ignore the private conversation between Mando and Omera, but can't help but overhear her ask, “How long has it been since you've taken that off?”

   Suddenly, Jesla became interested in their conversation, straightening up to get a better look at Mando. “Yesterday,” he simply answers.

   “I mean in front of someone else,” Omera clarifies.

   The Mandalorian turns around, then looks and points out the window to where the village children are playing with the kid. “I wasn't much older than they are.”

   “You haven't shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?” Omera queries as she tilts her head slightly.

   “No. I was... happy that they took me in. My parents were killed, and the Mandalorians took care of me,” Mando replies, nodding his helmet.

   “I'm sorry.”

   “This is the Way.”

   Once Omera leaves, Jesla pushes herself off the ground and sets her MK on a table on her way towards the Mandalorian. She knew that she should probably leave him be so he can eat, but something inside of her wanted her to talk to him.

   She leans on the window sill beside him, looking out at the children running and laughing, none of them having a care in the world. “So... you didn't exactly have a choice of becoming a Mandalorian?”

   Din looks over at her as he too leans on the window sill. It was the first time she had spoken to him since before they arrived at the farming village. “I did have a choice. I was... in debt to them,” he answers her, looking back out to watch the children as well.

   Jesla shakes her head as she scoffs. “At least you got to feel that way,” she says, her jaw clenching slightly as the memories flow through her mind.

   The Mandalorian turns to look at her again, his eyebrows furrowing under his helmet. “You didn't join the Empire by choice?”

   The ex-Imperial sharpshooter pushes herself off the window sill as she turns her line of sight to Mando. If she were to ever gain his trust, she has to trust him.

   “When I was a child, my parents... they abandoned me on Kamino, which was the planet where the clones, err, Stormtroopers were made. The Kaminoans took me in and raised- or more accurately, trained me- alongside the clones. So when the wars started, I was recruited as soon as I was old enough to be on the field. I kept my abilities a secret, mostly because I didn't really know what they were at the time... Back then, I thought that we were the good guys, but I was obviously wrong.” Jesla explains, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. She didn't have to tell him about her choice about becoming a Sith or her master now. She planned on doing that later if they continued to work together.

   Mando nods slowly, turning away from her. “We all make mistakes. Not all of us are our mistakes though,” he states as he continues to look away. 

   A small smile covers Jesla's lips as she rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the advice. I'll, uh, leave you be so you can eat,” she says as she starts towards the door. She hears Mando thank her before she slips out the exit.

                                                  ∞∞∞

   Jesla, Mando, and Cara are patrolling the forest, the Mandalorian using his HUD to look for recent footprints. “About fifteen or twenty of them came through here on foot,” he informs them. He looks up above them, seeing damage higher up in the trees. “And something big sheared off those branches,” he adds.

   The trio move on until they come up to a gigantic footprint. Jesla crouches down next to it, picking up some dirt and runs it through her fingers. “AT-ST,” she states as she stands back up.

   “Imperial Walker. What's it doing here?” The Mandalorian questions, scanning their surroundings.

   “I don't know. But this is more than I signed up for,” Cara answers.

   You could say that again, Jesla silently agreed.

   After informing the villagers with their new information, they decide to join in on the fight. Now all Din, Jesla, and Cara had to do was teach all the farmers how to fight and turn them into temporary soldiers; Cara with melee, Jesla and Mando with shooting. If they were going to protect the village from the advanced Raiders, they were all going to do it together. Jesla never thought she would ever see herself working with a Rebel, but there was a first time for everything, and times were changing.

   The plan was for them to build a high and strong enough barricade along the edges of the village so the AT-ST couldn't get through. On the outermost edge of the krill pool, they were going to dig a real deep trench, so that when the Imperial Walker steps in, it drops. Cara and Mando will hit their camp to provoke them, and bring the fight out of the woods and down to the village. Jesla will stay back with villagers, and position herself on top of one of the barns with her MK-modified rifle to help them take out the Raiders one by one. 

   It was a simple enough plan, right?

   Once the sun had set, Mando and Cara set out to the Raider's camp. Jesla made sure all the villagers were ready and in their positions before going to her post on top of the barn. She lied down and set up her MK, lining up her scope in the direction of where the Raiders were to enter.

   It wasn't that much later when Cara and Mando came running out of the mist, swiftly sliding into cover. They all watch as the AT-ST breaks through the tree line, stopping on the bank just before the trap. Jesla curses under her breath as the Walker turns on a blinding light to sweep the defenses, everyone ducking down to try to get out of sight.

   The AT-ST then opens fire on the huts, the Raiders breaking out of the forest and flooding through the Walker's legs towards the village. All of the villagers open fire and start blasting the Raiders, the Raiders reciprocating the fire. Jesla starts picking off Raiders left and right, never missing her targets. 

   Jesla sees Cara storm out toward the Imperial Walker, the Mandalorian's pulse rifle in her hands. She covers her as Dune carries out an apparently new plan. Cara shoots at the Walker, making it step forward. Jesla then understands, turning her fire to the machine. The AT-ST takes its attention of off Cara to look in the general area from where Jesla's shots were coming from. This gives Cara the perfect opportunity to shoot into one of the cockpit windows, causing the AT-ST to finally step into the trench where it goes down hard. The Mandalorian activates a charge and runs towards the fallen Walker with it, throwing it into the shot-out cockpit window before sliding into cover with Dune. The AT-ST blows up, making the remaining Raiders flee.

   The villagers start to cheer, relishing in their victory. Cara and Mando both look in Jesla's direction, saluting her. Jesla smiles as she salutes them back. Now, it was finally time to relax.

                                                ∞∞∞

  A few weeks later, the village was once again a peaceful place. Jesla could get used to living here for a long time. Her, Cara, and Mando were currently sitting on the porch of the barn, all watching the Child play with the other children.

   Omera comes out and hands Cara and Jesla a drink, both of them thanking her. “Can I set you something in the house?” She asks, turning to the Mandalorian.

   “Uh... thank you. Maybe later,” Din replies, nodding slightly.

   She turns to watch the children. “He's very happy here,” she states.

   “He is.”

   “Fits right in.”

   Jesla smirks as she watches Omera walk away. “So, what happens if you take that thing off? They come after you and kill you?” She queries, taking a sip of her drink.

   “No. You just can't ever put it back on again,” Mando answers solemnly. Jesla licks her lips as she nods. She didn't realize how serious this lifestyle was to him.

   Cara, on the other hand, just gave him an incredulous look. “That's it? So, you can slip off the helmet, settle down with that young beautiful widow and raise your kids sitting here sipping spotchka?”

   Mando clears his throat and Jesla can feel how the topic is making him uncomfortable. “You know, we raised hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast. You might wanna cycle the charts and move on,” he says, changing the subject.

   As much as Jesla hated it, she knew that he was probably right. “I'm not going to be the one that has to tell the kid,” she murmurs.

   The Mandalorian turns to watch the Child play with some krill. “I'm leaving him here. Traveling with me... that's no life for a kid. I did my job, he's safe. Better chance at a life. You should stay here with him... It'll be safe for the both of you,” he expresses, looking back at Jesla. She hesitates before nodding in agreement. The kid deserved a good life and Jesla could finally get the one that she always wanted.

   “It's gonna break his little heart,” Cara shares, her eyes drifting to watch the Child as well.

   “He'll get over it. We all do.”

   For an unknown reason, Mando's words echoed inside Jesla's head. Maybe it was because she knew that deep down, you never really fully recover from a broken heart, no matter what you tell yourself.

   As the Mandalorian walked off, Jesla felt a disturbance. Her eyes immediately went to the edge of the forest, scanning for any sign of life. She excused herself before making her way into the woods, taking out her blaster.

   Jesla silently maneuvers her way through the edge of the forest, clutching the gun that was in her hand. She eventually comes up to what she assumes is a bounty hunter lining up its shot. Quietly, she walks up behind it and shoots it just before it could make it's own shot.

   The Mandalorian runs up to her, coming to a halt just before the dead body. With his foot, he turns the smoldering body over, revealing a tracking fob.

   “Who's he tracking?” Jesla asks as she slides her blaster into its holster.

   “The kid,” Mando discloses, destroying the fob.

   “They know he's here.”

   “Yes.”

   “Then they'll keep coming.”

   “Yes.”

   Later, Jesla and Din are loading up the cargo sled with the help of a villager as the Child waits for them. Cara walks up to them, placing a hand on her hip. “Are you sure you don't want an escort?”

   “I appreciate the offer, but we're gonna bypass the town and head right to the Razor Crest,” Mando answers as he sets the last of the cargo on the sled.

   “Well then. Until our paths cross,” Cara says as she offers her hand. The Mandalorian takes it and shakes. “Until our paths cross.”

   Cara then turns to Jesla, giving her a once over before offering her hand to her as well. “You're not bad for an Imp,” she smirks.

   Jesla rolls her eyes as she accepts her hand. “And you're not bad for a Rebel,” she replies.

   Omera walks up to them, giving them a small smile. “Thank you.”

   The duo both nod before they get on the sled. As the sled pulls off, Jesla looks back at the farming village fondly. She knew that this was only the beginning of her new life alongside the Mandalorian.

××××××

@living-that-best-life

Tags are open!

[weedle-testaburger]

Jamweek Day 1: Bed & Breakfast

I’m probably not gonna be the only one doing how I assume their bed and breakfast meeting went down, but I’ve been thinking about it since the finale and I thought it’d be cute to do! @jambudweek

Steven was awoken by the familiar chimes of Connie’s ringtone from his phone on the bedside table. He groaned and picked it up, and was immediately greeted by a chirpy, “Hi Steven!” “Hi,” he replied in a tone he hoped wouldn’t give away that he’d been asleep until about thirty seconds prior, but suspected absolutely would. “How did you sleep?” asked Connie jokily. “Pretty good,” mumbled Steven, giggling. “Great! Just say the word and I’ll go get Lion,” Connie replied. “OK,” Steven answered. “Is it OK if that won’t be for a few minutes?” “Of course! I can wait as long as you need, don’t worry.” “Awesome, see you soon then!” Steven put down the phone and groggily dragged himself out of bed. Remembering the enormity of what he’d done yesterday, how sad everyone was to see him go but how proud they were of him for doing this, and of course that he was getting to see Connie again today, lightened his mood as he dressed.

By the time he got to brushing his teeth he was half-tempted to just rush things and message to Connie that she should come over here right now. But he knew it was better to be patient about it, to take care of himself and make sure he didn’t force people to take things at his pace rather than his own. Once he had everything cleared up, though, he rushed back to the bed to grab his phone and text Connie, “Ready when you are!”

He grabbed his things and dashed outside the B&B, staring out at the view while he waited. The bed and breakfast wasn’t far outside Delmarva, just a few miles into Keystone, but given how little he’d left his home state or really even Beach City before now, the subtle differences in the surroundings stood out to him.

His focus was broken by something decidedly more interesting- a pink oval portal opening up to one side of him, with his friend emerging from it atop a large pink lion. As Connie dismounted, Steven stroked Lion’s mane and snout and giggled as the big cat purred deeply, before turning to his partner once she was safely down and hugging her. “Nice to see you again,” he said quietly. “We saw each other yesterday, you know,” she chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s always nice to see you again when we’ve been apart,” Steven grinned. Connie blushed a little at that and took his hand as they walked into the B&B together.

Peering through the breakfast menu, Connie wasn’t exactly sure what to pick. “All this stuff sounds pretty good, I kinda don’t know what to choose,” she admitted. “How about you?” “Oh, I have a pretty good idea, actually,” Steven grinned. “How does together breakfast sound?” Connie looked at him a little confusedly. “I thought that was your specialty?” “I’ve come up with a way to improvise,” explained Steven. He reached down to a plastic bag he’d taken from his room, and pulled out a couple of strawberries, a can of whip cream and popcorn. “Oh, good thinking!” said Connie. “You sure they won’t mind us adding stuff to ‘em?” “Well, they said if we want we can take it to the room, so probably not,” Steven smirked.

Once they were back in there, they prepped their breakfasts. The waffles and maple syrup were already done, of course, so they just had to add the whip cream to the top, sprinkle on some popcorn and add their strawberries. “Maybe yours should’ve been a biscuit?” Connie teased. “Now I wish I’d checked to see if they did biscuits!” laughed Steven. “I hope this is gonna be alright, though.” “I know it’ll be,” smiled Connie. She was right. As they munched through their waffles, she decided now would be a good time to check on Steven. “So, did your trip go alright? You seemed kinda quiet after you texted,” she asked. “I was just kinda wiped out from it all,” Steven admitted. “Thanks for giving me that tape, by the way. To be honest, whenever I hear songs by the person who did that song we played at the roller rink, I still think of you.” “Aww!” Connie blushed pretty hard at that. “I’m glad you liked it.”

She continued eating her together breakfast a bit more slowly, pondering whether she should pry more into his mental health. “Um… are you worried about the trip at all? It’s OK if you don’t wanna talk to me about this, obviously, you’ve got a therapist for a rea-“ “Honestly? Yeah, kinda,” Steven replied, cutting her off. She held his hand and looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “I really wanna do this, of course I do. But going so far from home on my own worries me a lot too. It’s kinda both for the same reason- I have no idea what to expect. This could be the most amazing and happiest few months of my life, or the most boring and saddest! And I feel like if I keep wanting to tell you guys everything, you’ll get bored of me bothering you.” “Steven…” Connie took Steven’s other hand, and smiled earnestly at him. “What did Garnet tell you? She said whatever happens, we’ll all always be there to support you, and we love you. And that goes for me too. If you’re bored and you wanna talk to me, I’ll always be happy to hear from you. Even if I’ve got something on, I’ll just tell you at the time and talk to you as soon as I’m free. Even when you don’t have much to say, I still enjoy talking and hanging out with you.” “Really?” Connie nodded, and Steven blushed a bit. “Thanks, Connie. I’d give you a hug, but I don’t wanna drop this breakfast,” he giggled.

“You want to talk about anything else?” Connie asked once Steven had taken another bite. “If it’s OK.” “It’s always OK, Steven.” “OK…” Steven swallowed hard. “I kinda feel like, I’m scared that if I end up just coming back to Beach City at the end of all this, I’ll feel like I failed? And, I mean, I gave my room to dad, I turned down Bismuth offering to make me a place to stay… don’t you think they’d be mad if in the end I turn around and say I like Beach City best?” “This trip doesn’t have to be about finding somewhere new to settle unless you want it to be,” Connie pointed out. “And do you really think with how much everyone misses you, they’d be angry if you came back?” “I guess not,” Steven chuckled, remembering just how torn up the other Crystal Gems had been about him wanting to go. “Also, honestly, if you need to come back to Beach City, um…” Connie blushed a little. “I’d really love to have you. I still remember how nice sitting with you and watching the snow fall when we were kids was. If we got to do that again someday, I would love that.” Steven blushed too at the memory. “You know what? Even if I don’t come back, I promise, someday we’re definitely doing that again,” he grinned. The two of them kissed softly.

Setting down their emptied plates, Connie had a brainwave. “Steven?” she said. “Hm?” “We could always do something kinda like watching the snow right now.” “How do you mean?” “Well, you know how you were worried about getting bored on the road, right?” Steven nodded, and Connie cuddled him, the two of them lying together to face the window of the B&B room. “Tell me about all the stuff you like that’s different from Delmarva.”

Steven thought for a moment, and then started going through things. “I guess I like how the nature in Keystone looks kinda different? It’s still foresty like bits of Delmarva, but the kinds of trees and the cliff faces and the way the lakes and rivers look, it kinda stands out to me as different. Whenever I used to leave home, it’d usually either to other cities like Ocean Town or Empire City that I could see in photos anytime, or alien planets that were nothing like Earth at all. It’s kind of nice to be able to notice that more. Does that make sense?” “Of course,” Connie smiled. “Wanna keep talking?” Steven did, and he rambled like anything, occasionally wondering if he was making sense to get a sweet nod confirming it from Connie. As he moved on to ideas about where he wanted to go, and the landmarks he wanted to see, Connie continued to listen attentively, and when he invited Connie to talk about her ideas for colleges and courses, he did the same, both of them trying their best to understand each other’s ideas for what they wanted to do in their own time while enjoying each other’s company.

Somehow, getting the time from one another to think and ramble all they wanted seemed to make time stand still for a while, and the only part of this that felt real- or needed to feel real- was their being together.

[becuztaelien]

2| The Beast

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4

2.9k words, Warning: Intense shit, language

“Boss, I have visual on the boy, waiting for further instructions.”

Your body froze as thoughts of your best friend flooded back inside your head. Within seconds, you found your face being pressed into Yoongi’s chest.

“Sh… don’t worry” your boyfriend softly muttered into your ear. He always knew exactly what to do and foresaw your panic before it even had a chance to begin. “Nothing bad will happen.” He simply said and held your now trembling body tighter.

“Boss?” The familiar voice spoke again and you pulled away from Yoongi, searching his eyes, desperate to know how he would save Jimin. The truth was, Yoongi had no idea what he was going to do, his men were all in Seoul and there was no way he could rescue Jimin immediately. Zico’s gang would undoubtedly find out about his murder very soon and seen as Yoongi had ripped half the man’s neck off, it wouldn’t be much of a question as to who the dead man’s killer was.

Yoongi leaned in and placed a soft, endearing kiss on your forehead before pulling away and making his way to the man he had recently damned to the afterlife. He fumbled around Zico’s blood stained jacket and retrieved your phone along with the device making all the noise. He noticed Zico had been on a muted phone call the entire time. Fuck… the bastard was really prepared for me huh… he took a quick glance at the lifeless face beside him and somehow felt a rush of excitement, for once, someone had managed to put him in a pinch. He was momentarily impressed but upon hearing your soft whimpers, a surge of anger spread through his body. Zico may have planned well but he also made it personal. Yoongi grabbed the dead man’s face, gripping his jaw so tight it may as well have cracked.

How dare he make you cry? But more so, what could be done in a situation like this? Should he give up his codes to measly henchmen and rush to change them? No, they would realise Zico was dead and that most definitely guaranteed Jimin’s funeral. Even on the off chance they didn’t kill Jimin, there was no way of knowing whether Zico had hacked into Hoseok’s system and placed someone on standby, waiting to punch in those digits and take Yoongi down. Fuck, think, think, think. He scratched his head for a second, he could not execute a plan unless the probability of success was high and currently both your happiness and his empire were at risk. You desperately waited, knowing Yoongi would come up with the best plan but your patience was quickly wearing thin.

“Yoon-”

“Y/n, call Jimin immediately and tell him to get the fuck back in that building”, he spoke calmly and stretched out his hand- holding your cell- back, you grabbed it without a second thought. Before standing up, Yoongi gave the deformed man a deep glare followed by a psychotic grin; you died thinking you had won didn't you? Pft, don't make me laugh.

The raven haired man reached into his pocket to retrieve his own phone and brought the device up to his ear after dialling an all too familiar number. It would be a risky operation but out of all the ones he could think of, this was the only one he was the most confident in. Yoongi grabbed your hand and began making his way out of Zico’s den; in the process of calling Jimin, you could only pray whatever Yoongi had in mind would work.

“Hello?” after the third ring, your childhood friend finally picked up and you had never been so relieved yet terrified to hear his voice.

“Chim!! Oh my god, thank fuck, go back, Chim go back inside!!”

“Y/n? What? Wait slow down what are you rambling on about?”

“Chim listen, I don’t have time to explain right now, just trust me and go back inside the academy, you have to go, please hurry!!!” You voice was obviously jam-packed with panic and worry causing Jimin to stop in his tracks and turn around. He was extremely confused as to how you even knew where he was but judging from your tone he decided to do as he was told; the answers would surely follow.

“Get the Chopper to the closest rooftop you can find, now.” Yoongi instructed before the person he had dialled even had a chance to say ‘hello’. The moment both of you were outside, a professionally dressed, grey haired man, seemingly in his forties was waiting next to Yoongi’s Audi R8 V10, the black model, of course and you recognised it immediately. Your boyfriend hurriedly opened the door for you as he had been doing for the last 3 years and you slid in as he followed promptly. “Head for HQ” he ordered, “Jung should contact us with a location soon.” The driver had already stepped on the gas and gave Yoongi a quick nod through the rear view mirror. While you were busy trying to tell Jimin his life was in danger, Zico’s men spoke through the deceased man’s phone again.

“Boss, the boy is returning to the Academy, we need your instructions.”

Your face visibly went pale but before you had a chance to freak out Yoongi tightly held your hand. “Is he inside?” He asked in reference to Jimin and you quickly asked your best friend; Yoongi’s grip on you was really the only thing keeping you calm at this point.

“Yea, yea I just walked back in, y/n you need to give me an explanation rig-” you nodded to your boyfriend who had been closely observing for a response. The second you confirmed, Yoongi broke the blood stained phone with his bare hands and chucked it out the window almost too casually which resulted in a shook expression from you. He shrugged and smiled comedically in response and you were about to ask what in the hell he was doing but then Jimin’s voice went louder “-are you even listening y/n?!” your mind returned to the call and you decided there was no point in questioning Yoongi’s methods.

“Chim, listen, I really can’t explain right now, I just need you to trust me, stay in that building until I say otherwise, please just...��� Your eyes started getting teary again just thinking about what could go wrong and of course Jimin recognised this immediately.

“Okay, okay I trust you, I trust you, please calm down.” You nodded into the phone trying to collect yourself and began taking deep breaths. Seconds later, there was a loud ding on the screen next to the driver with what you only assumed could be coordinates from Hoseok; Yoongi’s tech specialist and right-hand man.

“Where?” he asked but it sounded more of a statement than a question.

“Seocho Garak Tower, Sir.” Upon hearing the driver’s response Yoongi grinned, countless memories of himself and Hoseok returning.

“In this situation, he really-” he almost chuckled but brushed it off, knowing he had to be there for you, nostalgia could be delayed.

9:52pm, Busan Dance Academy

“Hello? Hello??” Renjun, Zico’s most trusted man, looked at his phone, confused as to why the call had suddenly dropped. He called his partner who had been assigned to the other exit of Busan Dance Academy. They had both been tailing and observing Jimin for months, learning his schedule, where he worked, where he liked to eat, where he bought his groceries. If there was anything to know about his habits, they knew it. Renjun didn’t suspect anything when Jimin went back into the academy since the boy was reasonably forgetful but Zico going blank was definitely suspicious.

“Yea?” his partner finally answered.

“Jae, I need you to check where the Boss is.” Jaemin was another one of Zico’s trustees; he had also been Renjun’s partner since before they joined their now dead leader’s gang. Both of them were a brilliant team; Jaemin specialised in weapons and tech while Renjun was better at close combat and guns.

“Copy that.” After a minute of silence Jaemin responded finally, “He’s offline…? I can’t track his phone, the tracking device was either disabled or destroyed. Weren’t you on a standby call with him?” Renjun cursed under his breath knowing The Beast had compromised the mission. Of course this happened, they were going up against the man who practically owned Korea, there were bound to be hurdles.

“Shit… I should have known when he didn’t respond the first time.” He explained the situation to his partner all the while trying to figure out what to do considering they had no back up. Only the people involved in the mission knew about it and if Zico wasn’t responding, it was easy to assume none of the other men would either. “We have the upper hand right now.” He finally concluded, “Min and his men are in Seoul, the boy will come out soon, we have to capture him alive. The Boss was confident that this was the Beast’s only weakness, we have no choice but to use it.” He crossed his legs and the bench beneath him made a subtle creaking sound. He was dressed casually; blending into the crowd, the only difference? No one else was carrying five guns hidden in their coat.

“Jun… do you think the boss is-” Jaemin didn't even have to finish his question, Renjun had already been thinking of it.

“If The Beast came personally then we have to assume so.”

10:07pm, Seocho Garak Tower

You stood in the 24 story building’s private elevator with your boyfriend, hands still intertwined. It was silent at first, the only sound being that of the elevator itself and Yoongi’s soft breathing.

“Yoonie…” you muttered softly “Busan is 4 hours away, how are we ever going to get there on time?” The raven haired man smirked at your concern before taking your face between his hands and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.  

“Princess you’re underestimating how fast a helicopter can go, don’t you worry about getting there on time.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and proceeded to press your head against his strong chest “we will save Jimin, okay?” You nodded through watery eyes and wrapped your arms around his frame. If you were honest with yourself, you were still worried sick and you had no clue how you were going to tell Jimin that you were literally dating the most insane criminal mastermind in Korea, if not all of Asia but you trusted Yoongi. He may have been insane and ruthless but he was never anything but kind, gentle and caring towards you; you trusted him more than anyone and anything but you weren’t sure if you trusted him with Jimin’s life.

The elevator doors opened and there were three men waiting for both of you. “It’s ready, Sir.” One of them stated as a matter of fact and Yoongi pulled away slightly to see your expression. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before giving him a small nod.

“Let’s go save Jimin.”

10:58pm, In the Helicoptor

Your phone started buzzing and you quickly scrambled around your pockets trying to find it, knowing there was only one person who could possibly be calling.

“Chim? Are you okay?” you asked worriedly. The last hour had been full of panic and Yoongi holding you tightly but even in his warm embrace, Jimin was the only person on your mind. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets kidnapped? What if they kill him?! That’s exactly why when he called you were relieved but also anxious in case something had happened.

“Yea, I’m fine. There’s just one problem; the academy closes at 11 and I’m literally hiding in a janitors closet so you better explain whatever is going on right now.” You sighed in relief knowing he was safe but still struggled with how you would tell him about Yoongi.

“I think it would better if I explained in person, it’s a lot to take in and I’ll only be another 15 minutes-”

“YOU’RE COMING TO BUSAN? BITCH WHAT?” you had to pull the phone away from your ear because of how loud Jimin had exclaimed oh shit yea you thought upon realising you had forgotten to mention that minor detail. You couldn’t blame him though; it had been years since you both saw each other and you couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Jimin had gone abroad after high school and by the time he came back, you were too deep in with Yoongi which made seeing your best friend risky. The last six months of your friendship was basically making excuses to avoid seeing him in case it would put him in danger and you cursed yourself for not deleting conversations and using untraceable lines of contact. It was your fault he was in danger and it was killing you inside but right now you had to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming and I’ll explain everything but Jimin you have to promise me you will not move until I get there.”

“What is upppp with all this secrecy?” he exclaimed in annoyance, “I’ve literally been freaking out for a whole ass hour like just tell me!” it was understandable; anyone in his situation would have been scared and confused.

“I know, I’m sorry I just…” you decided there was no point in delaying it, he deserved to know what was going on, “okay, you have to listen carefully.”

11:05pm, Busan Dance Academy

Everyone had left but not Jimin. Jaemin and Renjun had closely been watching and they were absolutely certain the dancer had not left the building. The lights had gone off and the last person out had locked the doors. This was a trivial issue, both gang members had picked numerous locks in their lifetime so getting in the building had been a piece of cake, the real challenge was searching for the brunette man.

“You think he knows we’re here?” Jaemin asked his partner who was looking through a classroom on the lower floor of the academy.

“Oh he definitely knows we’re here, he wouldn’t be hiding if he didn’t. The Beast’s slut probably told him” he chucked momentarily “which is funny because it really wouldn’t matter if he knew he was being hunted or not; he lost the moment Zico assigned us here.” With no sign of Jimin in the lower left wing of the academy, Renjun motioned for his partner to take the stairs up to the second floor while he searched the lower right wing.

At the same time, in the Helicopter 

“Yoongi isn’t who I told you he is…” you nervously mumbled into the phone.

“What? What does any of this have to do with your boyfriend?” Jimin sounded puzzled; of course he was, you had never lied to each other and now you were about to tell him your boyfriend of three years was the one people called ‘The Beast’.

“He’s … fuck! I’m sorry I lied to you about this, I had no other choice, I’m sorry…” you took a deep breath, but even then your body quivered “he’s the leader of a really big mafia gang.” You heard a low chuckle from the leader in question causing you to inquisitively look at him. What did he find so humorous right now? Your look was returned with a ‘that’s the way you introduce me to your best friend?’ vibe which of course resulted in you smacking his arm and rolling your eyes; Jimin could literally be killed at any moment yet somehow your boyfriend made the situation light hearted, even if for just a few seconds.

“What. The. Fuck. Y/n please don’t fuck with me right now I’m literally sitting next to a mop that smells like dancer sweat.”

“I wish I was making this up right now” and it was true, you didn’t want to admit it but deep down you were having doubts and wondering whether it was ever right for you to get involved with Min Yoongi in the first place. “A rival gang leader wanted to get to him and they found out about you, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this I-” your words got caught in your throat and suddenly the guilt of lying to Jimin along with thoughts of leaving Yoongi got a little too much.

“Okay, um… let me get this straight… I’m being hunted by the mafia right now…you have been dating a fucking criminal and lying to me for the last three years and WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK Y/N?” Jimin spat and you had never felt more ashamed. There was no other way to put it. You let your emotions get the better of you and didn’t stay loyal to the person who had your back since preschool; Jimin was the family you never had.

“I’m sorry… I jus-”

“No, don’t even apologise right now, do you realise the number of levels this is fuc-”

Silence

“…chim?” The line had suddenly gone quiet. “Jimin?” Every form of panic and fear soared through your being, tears flooding your eyes and your voice cracking each time you attempted to say his name. “J-jimin?? Please answ-”

It was as though all your worst fears came to life when you finally heard something on the other end of the line. The sound of a phone dropping from a frozen man’s hand followed by a deep, venomous voice.

Jaemin smirked, pressing his gun hard against Jimin’s temple,

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

// Part 3

[queenmendes]

new life chapter || pt. 3 ||

Summary: Y/N is a young actress; already one of the most known in the industry, She started out on Marvel, playing Feuer (Foi yer) Stark, the adopted daughter of Tony Stark; now with that coming to an end, she is ready to start a new chapter in her life. Who knew it would all begin with a livestream?

Word Count: 3,840 

Masterlist 

A/N: Sooo, I have no idea what the hell “camp” means for the Met Gala so I am stealing the Zac Posen dress (big one that lit up)  from the 2016 one as Y/N and we are just going to act like Zendaya isn't there so they don't clash (love her to death tho, she’s queen) and I wanted to do a Social Media part for this chapter so please go with it ;) thanksssss, enjoy xxxx

“Whatcha mean you have never had Joe’s Pizza?” Your eyes wide as you stare at the tall Canadian in front of you. “You’ve been to Manhattan how many times? This is unacceptable.” Shawn laughed but let you drag him into the pizza joint. Shawn had just arrived in New York last night; he called earlier today to take you up on your offer of showing him New York. With him, was his best friend Brain and a few of his other team members, including Cez and Josiah. You also decided that your team deserved a day out and they joined as well.

The day was spent running around the city like wild teenagers. Going to all the basic places, like Time Square and the Empire State Building. You also stopped by the World Trade Center memorial, as no one has seen the masterpiece created. You showed them the small, hole-in-a-wall shops that you loved as well as the hidden park that barely anyone knew about. The group even walked along the Brooklyn Bridge, but that was photo aesthetic purposes mainly. However, it was almost 10 o’clock and everyone was hungry, so it was time to hit up your favorite pizza place.

“This better be the best pizza of my life.” Shawn said as the group filed into the small restaurant. You scoffed.

“Trust me. It’s amazing. Classic pizza.” You replied as you waited in line. Shawn stood behind you, his chest lightly brushing against your back. Each of you have been a bit touchier; the reuniting hug lasting long and random ones throughout the day also, with hands brushing against each other’s constantly.

“Oh my! Y/N!” Joe, the owner, exclaimed as you came into his sight. He rushed around the counter and gave you a friendly hug. You smiled at the middle-aged Italian man.

“Joe! You are a sight for sore eyes.” You said as you pulled away from the man. He rolled his eyes at your compliments but still smiled. He turned his attention to Shawn, who stepped to the side to give you some space.

“And who are these lovely people?” Joe asked, his thick accent more noticeable, as he scanned the small group.

“This is Shawn.” You introduced before continuing for the rest of the group. “They are also here for the Met.” You explained. Joe shook hands and introduced him. Joe returned behind the counter, placing an apron around his waist. Everyone placed their orders and went at sat more towards the back as you waited.

“I take it you come here a lot?” Brian asked, referring to the reunion that seemed like two old friends reuniting after years apart. Chris laughed, almost mockingly.

“Oh, you have no idea. Anytime we are in the city. And I mean, every. single. time.” Chris explained dramatically.

“Hey, is not that bad.” You defended yourself and all of your team stopped to give you a deadpanned look. You pouted but nodded your head. This was an addiction for you. You thought. The next few minutes was filled with random chatter across the group. Everyone having their own small conversations.

“So, Mendes.” You started and he turned to you, a look of amusement in his eyes at the use of his last name. “Any new music coming?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

“There is then! No one is suspicious unless something is happening.” You observed. Shawn laughed.

“How many investigating shows do you watch?” He mocked.

“Many.” You proudly smiled. The two of you laughed as pizza was set in front of each person at the table. You rubbed your hands together, grabbing the slice and biting into it. The taste of heaven filled your taste buds. You looked at Shawn as he bit into his own slice, waiting for his reaction. He looked at you from the corner of his eyes and chewed slowly to mock you.

“Alright, that’s pretty amazing.” He said finally, and the rest of the group nodded in agreement as everyone chowed down.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Everyone decided to come back to the penthouse your team was staying at. The small group was formed around the living room, deciding on what movie to watch. Since you were picky about what movie is picked, you were in the kitchen making popcorn for everyone and gathering other snacks.

“Need any help?” Shawn asked from behind you.

“You can get some drinks.” You laugh as he salutes before making his way to the fridge. He grabs a variety of drinks and places them on the counter.

“Thank you for today.” Shawn said after a moment of silence. “It meant a lot that you let my team come with us.”

“Of course. They work their ass off for you, I know mine does. They deserve fun, random days in the city.” You waved you hand in dismissal. “Besides, you friends are awesome. I had a lot of fun with them today too.”

“Just them?” He asked, stepping closer to you until he was inches away.

“Well, I guess you played a part in it too.” You whispered. A small, soft smile appeared on his face. The two of you just stood there, chest to chest now, in your own little bubble. His eyes going back and forth between your lips and eyes. One of his hands gently grabbed your hip, pulling you as close as possible while the other made its way to cup your cheek. His thumb gently brushing it. Finally, Shawn begins to lean into you.

“What is taking so long?” Chris yelled from the living room, causing the peaceful bubble to burst. You sighed in annoyance.

“Coming.” You softly yelled back. Shawn’s hand dropped from your cheek, but before he stepped away, you kissed his cheek. “Soon, Rockstar.” You promised before stepping away and gathering the popcorn and other snacks, making your way into the living room. Shawn stood there in a daze for a moment, before smiling big. Soon.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next afternoon could be described as one thing and one thing only. Hell. Everyone was in a frantic frenzy, running all over the penthouse. It didn’t help that you were exhausted from the all-day outing yesterday and late-night movie marathon that took place after. Apparently, you could not just watch one Harry Potter movie. Nope, it had to be three.

Now here you were, sitting on the couch, slowly drinking your second cup of coffee. Already knowing you would be needing another one. Everyone else in the background, setting up everything needed to make you pretty. And judging by the reflection you saw in the mirror; it was going to be a challenge. There was even a camera from Vogue here filming the entire process.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Stacy all but screamed. She didn’t even let you breathe before continuing. “We have 5 hours until you have to be walking across that carpet, and it is going to take an hour to get you in the dress and out the door and you are just sitting there, drinking coffee? Ass, shower, now”

“She took my coffee.” You whispered to Angie. Angie patted your shoulder.

“I’ll make you another. Go shower before she comes back.” You did what you were told because no one wants to face Stacy’s rage. Once you were out of the shower and into a robe, Chris led you to the makeup chair. It was like a swarm of people immediately getting to work. Simultaneously, Chris started drying your hair, Stacy start doing a skin mask to prep your face and your hands was pulled as your nails started getting painted.

“Do not touch your face.” Stacy instructed as she finished applying the mask. You nodded and began scrolling through social media to pass the time. A minute later, however, you phone started ringing.

Curly-Haired God is requesting to face time. Those words sent you into a slight panic since the two of you almost kissed last night; since you promised him it would happen soon enough. Oh, and your face looked like a monkey splatter mud all over it.

“Hey.” You finally answered. Shawn paused, trying not to laugh. “Don’t laugh at me. Stacy pretty much threatened me to do what she says.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” Shawn said, but you see his mouth twitching. However, he didn’t even try to hold it in, and his laughs filled your ears. You rolled your eyes but smiled. He had such a cute laugh.

“Was there are reason you called, Mendes?” He finally stopped laughing but his smile was still there.

“Yeah, did you know we are sitting at the same table?” You got excited.

“Wait, really? Oh my god, sweet! Who else is sitting with us?” You asked.

“I only know Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth.”

“We are going to have a dope ass table.” You concluded. Shawn nods in agreement. However, the moment was ruined by non-other than Stacy.

“Say goodbye.” Stacy said. You looked at her and pouted. “No, no, no. Put those eyes away and say goodbye, we have to get you ready.” You nodded.

“I’ll see you later?” You asked.

“How will I find you?” Shawn teased.

“Oh, trust me, you won’t be able to miss my dress.” You smirked before waving goodbye and hanging up. Stacy began taking off the mask as Crystal got all the makeup ready. You other hand started to get painted as well. Now, you simply leaned back and let yourself get pampered.

++++++++++++++

“Is it too late to eat something?” You were ignored by every single person as the small army was getting you into the dress. It was truly beautiful. It was a Zac Posen design; it was a light, sky blue gown that flared out passed the waistline. It was your own Cinderella dress. The best part was that it completely lit up, but it also made it a struggle to get in, so nothing shifted.

Your makeup was done amazing perfectly. Y/E/C standing out at the dark, navy blue eyeshadow that surrounded it. “I want to be a Targaryen” was all you told Chris about your hair and he did not fail. It was loosely curled into waves and had a complex braid wrapped the back. Stacy came over with the famous baby blue jewelry boxes.

“These are beautiful.” You gasped as Stacy started placed the three-layered choker around your neck before placed another one, that was thicker and almost looked braided, right above the other. A series of diamond, ring bands were wrapped around your fingers; all random widths. You decided to do simple, small studs for earrings. The last piece was a bracelet that resembled the three-layered necklace. All the pieces were very elegant but simple, so the attention isn’t away from the dress. Angie held onto you as the see-through high heels were placed on your feet.

“Are you nervous?” The Hailey, from Vogue asked from the side.

“A little. These kinds of things are a really big deal. I’m always more nervous for the publics comments because I don’t ever want to be like out of theme or anything. The critics and even just general people are really judgement if you don’t fit the theme.” You explained “But I completely trust Zac and I am in love with this dress.”  

“Who are you most excited to see tonight?” Hailey asked.

“Kim Kardashian West. I love her and she is a really good friend of mine. She actually called me like a week ago because she found out that Zac was my designer, so she was really excited to see what I was wearing. I’m excited to see her because she is the cover girl and she’s wearing Mugler, who is amazing.” You answered as you gather some things you would need for the night.

“Alright, we need to be out the door now people.” Angie said.

“Let’s go to the Met.” You smiled at the camera before carefully walking out the door.

+++++++++++

The flashes were constant. Shouting was coming from every direction as you made you way down the pink carpet. You’ve been on the pink carpet for about ten minutes now and so far, everything was going great. You weren’t going to light the dress up until you got closer to the end of the carpet. Thankfully, the photo portion doesn’t last long.

“Y/N! Oh my god. Hi” Liza waved from her spot mid-way up the stairs.

“Hi.” You greeted once you were in front of her

“Wow. Okay, look at you. So, tell me about what you are wearing.” She said after a moment of fangirling.

“It by Zac Posen. It really is just incredible. I told him, jokingly, that I wanted to feel like a princess, but he made that his inspiration and added his own twist to it. Look.” You said, before pressing the small button on the side of your waist. The entire dress lit up softly from the blue lights embedded inside it. The crowd from behind instantly gasped in shock at the new feature of the dress. More people trying to get more pictures.

“WOW.” Liza gasped. “Now, Endgame has premiered, we won’t spoil anything, but what is next in your career?”

“I really don’t know.” You honestly answered. “I’ve been acting since I was 10 years old and I am forever grateful for everything that has happened to me and how amazing the whole MCU has been and what we created. I am looking forward to a break where I get to just travel where I want and be with my family and friends; if I find a project along the way, then that’s great.” Liza nodded.

“Well that sounds like a great plan. You really have made a great name for yourself and anyone would be lucky to have in their movie or show.”

“Thank you so much.” Her attention went behind you and before you could turn to see what she was looking at, a hand gently laid on your back.

“You weren’t wrong when you said I couldn’t miss your dress.” Shawn said as he came into your line of vision. You smiled as you looked him over. Damn, he looked good. Like really good.

“You look great. Your hair! Let me see.” You said, grabbing his head to turn his head to the side so you could see it better. “I love it.”

“Thanks.” He blushed. “You are absolutely stunning.” The two of you completely forgot about Liza and the camera, simply staring at each other with soft smiles.

“It’s great to see you again, Shawn.” Liza said, breaking the silence. You stepped away slightly.

“Sorry I should keep moving, it was nice talking to you Liza.” You bided goodbye to her before turning to Shawn. “I’ll see you inside.” With that, you walked away, heart beating uncontrollably. Unknown to you, Shawn’s eyes didn’t leave your retreating figure until it was out of sight. Damn, she looked breathtaking.

Inside was even crazier than the carpet. Everyone’s attention turned to you as you walked in. It was quite nerve-racking but what else would you expect when you were literally glowing. As you made the way to your table, you stopped and mingled. About every 30 seconds, someone approached you, designer and celebrity.

“This is fabulous.” Kim said as she approached you. You smiled as you looked over her outfit. It was gorgeous. The silicon dress fitting her like a glove, the jewels representing water droplets.

“Me? Look at you.” You gestured. “This is amazing. How can you even breathe?”

“Oh, I can’t. And I am praying that I don’t have to pee because this corset isn’t coming off for a while.” She laughed and you with her. “I can’t help but wonder, what is going on with you and Shawn Mendes?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She just gave you a look. “Ugh, I don’t know. He’s so sweet and funny, and god, have you seen him? Don’t get me started and when he performs?”

“What are you waiting for then?”

“The right moment, I guess.” You shrugged. Kim smiled.

“Trust me, the right moment doesn’t happen unless you make it.” You were silent for a moment. She was right.

“When the fuck did you get so wise?” You laugh.

“Law school changes you.” She joked. The two of you got some photos taken by one of the photographers before parting ways. Finally, you made you way to the table you were assigned too. Miley and Liam were already standing near it.

“Thank god, I haven’t sat down in like 2 hours.” You said after greeting them. The three of you sat down and began talking about random things as you waited for everyone to settle and the event to get started. A few more people joined the table, most your recognized. Shawn took his seat next to you, his hand brushing against your back once again. He greets everyone at the table before turning slightly to face you.

“You really do look stunning.” He whispered as the event started on the stage. You blushed.

“Thank you.”

The night continued on. Dinner was served and conversation were held. Cher did an iconic performance that sent everyone into a buzz. Now, you were slowly going through the museum gallery, looking at all the pieces. Hailee Steinfeld was walking next to you, taking about random things or what you liked in the gallery.

“A certain tall, Canadian hasn’t stopped looking at you.” She commented.

“You are the second person tonight to mention him.” You comment back. She grinned.

“Well, I’m not one to believe social media but you two look like you’ve got some chemistry going on.” Hailee explained. You didn’t say anything back, just smiling as you continued to walk the gallery.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you thought earlier was hell getting ready, then you were wrong. Everyone rushed around you once again to get you ready for the afterparty. Finally, though, the dress was off, and you could breathe; mostly in relief that you didn’t ruin the dress. As everyone got what they needed, you went into your room to have a minute alone. It didn’t last long before you phone rang though. You answered without looking to see who it was.

“Hello?” You answered as you laid back.

“Hey.” Shawn’s voice softly came through. Immediately, you could tell something was wrong by his tone.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly. Shawn let out a shaky breath.

“Actually, I know it’s a lot to ask but is there any way you wouldn’t want to go to the afterparty and maybe just hang out? It’s just my anxiety is kind of getting to me and-“  

“Shawn, of course we can just hang out.” You interrupted. “It’s not at all a lot to ask.”

“Thanks. I’m really happy you said that because I’m in the lobby” He shyly said. You laugh.

“Come on up. I’ll tell everyone.” You make you way back into the living room after throwing on leggings and a big hoodie. “Hey, I’m not going to the afterparty.” You said loudly, making everyone freeze.

“Uh, what?” Angie asked.

“I’m not going to the afterparty. Shawn is coming over to hang out.” You said as a knock sounded through the room. You quickly answered it, seeing Shawn standing there in a hoodie and sweats. You opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in.

“Thank you, again.” Shawn whispered. You grab his hand, hoping to give some comfort.

“You don’t have to thank me Shawn.” You led him towards the living room. Everyone was still standing where you left them.

“You’re really serious?” Chris asked. You nodded. “Okay, less work for us.” Chris shrugged before placing the comb down and threw himself on the couch. You laughed before leading Shawn down the hall, into your room.  He sat on the bed as you stood in front of him, still holding his hand. Despite the size, it fit nicely around your own.

“Are you okay?” You asked. He nodded.

“Just a lot of people at the Gala, lots of questions.” He explained. You stayed quiet. “Actually, there was a lot of questions about you.” He confessed. Your eyes widen.

“You too, huh?” You laughed lightly. “This can wait. How about we order some food and maybe finish that Harry Potter marathon?” You suggest. Shawn smiles and nods. You call in the food as Shawn gets the movie started. While he was distracted, you rush and grab all the blankets you can find.

“Let’s get the movie night started.” You throw the blankets on top of the soft giant that laid across the bed. You lay down next to him and pressing play on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Grabbing the blankets, you lay them all across the bed, snuggle under them. No words were said, both entranced by the movie you’ve seen many times but it’s a work of art.

“Here’s the food.” Chris quietly said, placing the two pizza boxes, an order of wings, and a cookie down on the bed. He even brought plates and water for you. You smile in thanks before he walks out. Shawn laughs when sees pizza.

“You really are always down for pizza, huh?” Shawn asked, as he sits up and grabs one of the boxes.

“Always.” You reply before grabbing a slice of your own and a few wings. The two of you ate and watched the movie. There was no pressure to talk; you were just enjoying each other’s presence.

You lay back down after eating as much of the food as you both could handle. This time, closers than before. The next movie began playing when Shawn shifted closer to you. You smile lightly before making a bold move and placing your head on his chest, snuggling into his side. Shawn sighed in content.

“What did you mean when you said, “You too” early?” Shawn asked. You tilted your head to look up at him.

“A few people asked me what was going on between us.” You explain, shrugging.

“And what is going on between us?” Shawn asked, looking down at you.

“All I know is, that I like you too much for it to be a friendship.” You confess. His eyes widen in shock but light up.

“What is I told you it was mutual?” He asked, smiling. You sit up and turn so you are facing him. His had grips your hip slightly, just like the previous night. Unlike last night, no one interrupted you. Your lips met his. Your hands cup his face as both of his move to wrap around your waist. This kiss was soft and sweet, nothing rushing either of you. Only pulling away when you needed to breath. He rested his forehead against yours, softly panting.

“Can I do that again?” He sweetly asked.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.” He did and it was better than the first. 

Tag List: @yourwonderbelle , @neralondon  ,@bensbuttercup , @andibecamethestars , @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson , @winterin127

[shekinah-the-second]

The Nerubian empire being in a tundra always made me wonder why Blizzard chose such a weird place for spider people. In the unlikely event that spiders do end up living in the tundra, it likely wouldn't be for very long. Spiders are more likely to survive in forests, where they would hibernate in the winter, or in the case of some species, simply die and while the next generation of spiderkin mature and head off to eat ALL the insects. Spiders like warmer climates best, because that's where the food is most likely to be. In WoW's case? You bet your ass there's insects in warm places.

Logically, Silithus would be where the Nerubians should be. It's warm, there's no shortage of food, and look at that, they think they have an empire. Ohhh, child.

Logic isn't the only reason I think of Silithus when I think of the Nerubian empire. When I hear Abub'arak--or read it, I guess--one name comes to mind: Anubis, god of the afterlife. I don't know if Blizzard meant to invoke this when they created Anub'arak, and heaven knows that there are more blatant images of Anubis in the Ahn'Qiraj raids, but it still springs to mind. It doesn't help that the Nerubian empire uses powerful colors in their empire when we go to Azjol-Nerub. Black, blues, greens, and most striking to me, purple. (And no, I cannot show you an image, mostly because the screenshots I've taken of the dungeon are focused more on my character than on the architecture. Sorry!)

Now, purple doesn't just pop out at me because it's my favorite color. It's also because, in WoW, it's invocative of shadow magic, which we've seen primarily in Twilight's Hammer, who fucking love Silithus. Their robes are a dark violet, dark enough to the point where I wonder if some of them died from heat exhaustion, and the crystals around Silithus are a rusty purple-ish hue. The parallel of a spider empire and an insectoid one are not lost on me either, and that's something I believe Blizzard intended (though whether or not they were successful with this intention is up to the reader).

Now, as much as I love Wrath of the Lich King, I do think that with the Nerubian Empire and its remainders, few that they were, should not have been in Northrend. We already had the Scourge, an old god, more trolls, dragons, and proto-humans. Not every expansion needs to have ALL THE LORE crammed in, as too much on one's plate can lead to people not wanting to eat at all (which is a common complaint I hear about Cataclysm, that there was way too much going on). If it were me, I would have the Nerubian Empire, or what remained of it, in Silithus. Instead of night elf buildings in the area, there would be Nerubian. There would be a constant war, ever shifting with the sands, between the Qiraji and the Nerubians. The night elves, in my humble opinion, would be wise enough to stay out of that, but would still monitor it. After all, the victor could and probably would be their next enemy. Hell, even the dragons would probably stay out of it, though they would watch from the skies.

Back to Anub'arak now. In Wrath, he's undead. He's been dead for a long time, and Ner'zhul decided to raise him from death and force him and his minions into servitude. The ones who are alive despise the Scourge and see Anub'arak as a traitor. The undead ones, well, they probably don't really think. Except for Anub'arak himself, since he's actually able to speak and not just hiss and skitter and kill. Northrend is rife with undeath, but it's not as commonly seen in Silithus. Yes, there are the ghosts of sentinels and druids, but those are more spirits who have unfinished business. That is not to say, however, that something cannot be undead in Silithus.

Enter Moam.

This thing is not undead, but what it is is a living statue. It was built by Emperor Vek'lor as a Destroyer that would put all others to shame. Apparently he succeeded, too, because this guy's a boss in the Ruins of Ahn'Qiraj. The reason I bring this up, though, is because it started out as a statue, something that was inanimate and not alive in the slightest. But C'thun gave it life, and it became a living statue. To me, that isn't all that different from giving a corpse life. I'm not talking a fresh corpse, such as someone who is dead for ten minutes tops. I'm talking dead-dead. Like, mummy dead. Not being able to be revived even as a miracle dead. You get the idea, I'm sure. With this in mind, this would work for an undead Nerubian and his minions to once again rise from the depths of the sands, or hell, just remain underground and be forced into servitude of their enemies. Well, the leader of their enemies, I guess. But I still like idea of at least one Qiraji being a dick about it and having the Nerubian "servants" do the menial work. And Anub'arak? Oh yes, you can be damned sure there would be hell for him to pay.

Now, theoretically, this could go on for some time. Let's say the Qiraji were more vindictive about it, and they end up torturing some Nerubians to death (again). C'thun could bring them back to "life," but I don't think he would do this forever. C'thun, remember, is using the Qiraji, and their bullshit would probably not interest him. Why should he fix their toys if they're just going to keep breaking them? He doesn't care about their petty egos. He wants the world. Let's say Anub'arak does die again, and the Qiraji ask C'thun once again for him to be raised. C'thun does so, but he also brings back Anub'arak's intelligence. No longer is this beast a mindless slave. Oh, and he remembers the humiliating defeat, as well as the tortures from his previous lives. He ain't here to do the clean-up anymore, unless it means cleaning the Ruins of Ahn'qiraj of all this insectoid filth.

Now, imagine this in-game. It would be big, I think, because Silithus was pretty huge when the questline and raids were released. Imagine walking into the Ruins, and doing it as normal, with the possible hints here and there that there's something going on at the temple that was not meant to. Of course, this piques the interest of the player, and probably their characters as well. RP-wise, this has a lot of potential. Going into the Temple, it's an entirely different scene. It's all-out war between the Nerubians and the Qiraji. You could potentially pick a side, with a Qiraji quest-giver on one side of the entrance, and a Nerubian one on the other. Choosing one over the other would lead you to be Neutral with the side you choose, and Hated with the side you're against. You could also choose not to accept either quest, but this would make the raid harder, as you'd have Qiraji AND Nerubians coming after you (whether or not the loot would effect this, I don't know; loot in vanilla WoW was random as all hell, and any kind of increase in drops were practically negligent).

The quest you choose would lead to a cutscene, which would be a convenient way to load the raid so you would fight the appropriate bosses. The cutscene would basically be the NPC talking about war and them and rewards and blah blah, you're clearly evil, but so are they, so give me shinies. The camera would pan through the temple, showing Qiraji and Nerubians fighting to the death, and showing the appropriate bosses where they would be, whether they were Qiraji or Nerubian. If the raid leader did not choose a quest, however, the raid would be presented as thus: there would still be fighting amongst Nerubians and Qiraji, but once aggro'd, both would attack the raid. The bosses would all likely have scenes. For example, Prophet Skeram and a Nerubian prophet. They would be bickering and hissing at each other, both wanting to stop the raid as it enters, but wanting to do so for Qiraji/Nerubian. Each boss would have a different loot table, but only one would be fought (no, we are not doing Twin Emperor fights for every raid boss, that is suicide). Depending on which one is aggro'd, the other would fuck off, basically saying something along the lines of "I hope it hurts for you as much as it has me" or maybe "I'll enjoy watching this." I dunno, I'm not good at boss one-liners.

The Prophet Skeram/The Prophet... Thoth'ax? (Look, I'm trying here, okay?) Silithid Royalty/Nerubian Miners Battleguard Sartura/Silkcloak Obzor Fankriss the Undying/Lykho'sedat the Patient Viscidus (seriously, though, fuck that thing, go frost or go home, I guess) Princess Huhuran/The Silver Bones Twin Emperors/Anub'arak Ouro/Scorpio? C'thun

I'm not going to go through every boss encounter with painstaking detail (although if there is interest in it, I'll definitely come up with attacks and strategies!). This is just a basic idea of what players and characters are going to end up facing. Either way ends up leading to C'thun, but once C'thun is down, in comes the quest giver, crawling in and skittering up to the party. He thanks you, for whatever that's worth, and you get rep boost (in addition to the reputation you have gained and lost from killing one side instead of the other), but something unsaid also happens. A quartermaster is present in the entrance of the dungeon, next to the questgiver, when entered a second time. Of course, vanilla wasn't known for giving out tons of reputation, it was all about the grind, you get to see what wears are being sold to you that you can get in exchange for what drops from mobs and bosses. Of course, this would be gated by reputation, with the best loot being available at Exalted, but starting at Neutral, you can get food/drink and potions that would give you a minor boost on some fights (+10 shadow resistance, for example, or a bonus to HP). For the Neutral goodies, it would require "shells" that drop from trash mobs. Starting at Friendly, you'll need drops from bosses, because that's when you start getting the good stuff. Weapons, armor, rings, trinkets. Relics and totems, too, because druids and shamans need love, too. Maybe off-hands as well, but I don't remember off-hands being used prominently in vanilla.

As always, I would love to hear feedback!

Moam image courtesy of Wowpedia.

[my-soul-sings]

Forbidden

Synopsis: Based on Episode 7 of Yukimura’s route in Ikemen Sengoku. 

That moment when he saw the girl of his dreams on the battlefield, the sweetness he had felt all day turned to bitter ash in his mouth. As it turned out, dreams were short-lived, and he’d been living in a nightmare for far too long without realising it.

It killed him to leave her that night, when they had kissed as fireworks went off in the air. He remembered how the sparkling lights illuminated her beautiful face, painting it with colours that nevertheless failed to hide the bright red flush settled on her cheeks.

Nothing had ever felt more right. With his lips pressed to her soft ones and her body pressed against his in a tight embrace, it had been all too easy to forget that a war was brewing, and that he had a home to return to. Every moment that he was with her made him wish he was just plain and simple Yuki. Not Yukimura Sanada, loyal servant to Shingen Takeda, but Yuki, the traveling merchant who had the best luck to run into this woman over and over again. It was as if Fate had been gradually pulling their red threads closer and closer, until they were standing together in that moment, lost in time and in themselves.

It still pained him when he thought about how he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to her. He could already see how disappointed she would be when she saw his letter tied to that tree, and the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he thought of her adorable pout. He would have to make it up to her when he returned to her side.

But before that, he had a duty to uphold.

Mounting his horse, Yukimura set off following after Shingen and the rest of the army. The battle was starting, and he had it all planned out perfectly in his head: he was going to slay Nobunaga, put an end to this cruel war, return to his homeland, and live a peaceful life together with her.

It sounded like a dream come true. Nothing could possibly ruin it, aside from perhaps, getting killed in the line of his duty. Not that he was going to let it happen. He had been training for months and years. He was going to prove himself worthy on the battlefield and make it back alive to see her and tell her everything that he wanted to say.

But then he saw her, riding atop that horse, holding on firmly to Nobunaga’s waist.

The first thing he thought was that he was hallucinating. He missed her so much that he had gone crazy. He must have mistaken her for another woman; one of Nobunaga’s women. He must be insane to bring a woman out on horseback with him to the front lines. Either that, or he just wanted an extra shield to cover his back.

But then their gazes locked once more, and he recognised it all too well: her long, silky hair, her wide shocked eyes, and her soft parted lips he had kissed just the night before…

And in that moment, the sweetness he had felt all day turned to bitter ash in his mouth.

As it turned out, dreams were short-lived, and he’d been living in a nightmare for far too long without realising it.

She was on Nobunaga’s side. Probably one of Nobunaga’s women. Had she known he was Yukimura Sanada, an enemy troop all this time? Had Nobunaga simply used her as a tool to get close to him and make him waver like he was right then on the battlefield?

No, it couldn’t be. She looked far too shocked when she laid her eyes on him. She couldn’t have known.

In that case, she had been having an illicit affair with him? Pining after an enemy troop and betraying the Devil King all this time? Had she been lying when she said all those things to him the night before, secretly hating it when he had touched her and kissed her passionately beneath the stars and fireworks?

He didn’t know what to think. Nor did he have time to think. His fingers curled around his spear in a tight grip as anger and pain erupted in his chest. Nobunaga was beginning to attack, and in response, Yukimura snapped the reins of his horse and moved forward, preparing to land that spear in the disgustingly smug face of that warlord.

She seemed to have said something to distract Nobunaga, and Yukimura knew he had a good chance right there of ending the war once and for all. But just before he could land his spear in Nobunaga’s neck, her arms sprang forward to cover it, screaming for him to stop.

Why her? Of all people, why did it have to be her?

Like a fool, he did. He hesitated, pathetically betraying everything he had been fighting for all this time, and that gave Nobunaga the opportunity to knock him clear off his horse.

The hard impact as he crashed to the ground and rolled was a good wake-up call for him. He wasn’t Yuki anymore; he never was. Out here, he was, and had always been, Yukimura Sanada. Loyal vassal to Shingen Takeda, a soldier who had sworn to beat Nobunaga in battle to bring peace to the lands and return home, where he truly belonged.

He repeated it in his head over and over like a mantra, almost desperately. Anything to take his mind off her, and away from trying to think of where she could be, because she was no longer on Nobunaga’s horse. He must have sent her away, and if she was alone now, she could very well die in the crossfire of all this war.

The mere thought of her dying, the brilliance of her smile forever gone was enough to make him lose his mind again, and he took it out by charging towards any enemy soldier he could find, slashing and making them drop like flies one by one. It felt like he had taken an arrow to his heart, and it hurt far more than any flesh wound he had sustained before. He wanted to scream, to destroy this entire filthy empire that Nobunaga had built, designed only to torture and bring unhappiness.

He continued his streak of blindly knocking down soldiers, until he ended up meeting her again, like he seemed to always do. For the past few weeks it had been the same pattern of bumping into her on the street by coincidence, having the chance to talk to her and experience this strange fluttering in his chest that made his heart hammer against his ribcage and yearn to be with her even a minute longer.

Except this time, when he bumped into her again, he wished he hadn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her, and imagine all the things she might have done with Nobunaga as his woman. He couldn’t bear to think that the romance he thought had developed between them had been nothing but a lie and a sham.

She was barely saved by one of Nobunaga’s soldiers, and Nobunaga recognised him as the man whom they had returned his son to just the other day. He remembered how adorable that kid had been, and how heartbroken he and his mother would be if their father and husband didn’t make it home alive.

The father didn’t recognise him though, and Yukimura could see it in her eyes: the silent plea to spare the soldier’s life.

And for the second time, he did. He spared an enemy’s life. He merely knocked that man’s weapon away with a harsh blow, which seemed to scare her even more.

It was something he discovered he loathed the most. The fear in her eyes made him feel like a monster, and only reminded him of their positions as enemies.

Clearly, the things he had planned out for the both of them—confessing his feelings for her, making her happy for the rest of their lives after the war ended—could never happen. It was impossible from the very start.

And so even though he wanted nothing more than to talk to her, to ask her all the questions sitting on his tongue, he merely bit down on it and left. If they were both alive at the end of this, they could talk then.

The fighting ceased during the night, each camp having dealt equally serious damage. The wounded were brought to their tents for healing, the exhausted soldiers were huddling together eating or sleeping, while the other leaders were taking stock of the earlier battle and trying to strategise again.

He should be there with Shingen, but he would never be able to rest easy unless he found her and spoke to her. Anxiety rose in him as he quietly left the camp, wondering if she was safe and unharmed. She had to be. If Nobunaga had let her die on his watch, that Devil King was as good as a coward and was better off dead than claiming to have the right to rule and protect over all the lands.

A giant load lifted off his chest when he spotted her figure hidden in the pampas grass. She seemed to be looking for him too, and when their eyes met, he lost his breath again. She stood, revealing herself to him, and he quickly approached, not wanting any of his comrades spotting her and mistaking her for an enemy raider.

As he approached, he scanned her from head to toe, and it seemed she had been unharmed. Her hair was messy, and clothes muddied, but apart from that, she still looked beautiful and made his heart pick up its pace. He kept his face in a cold, blank expression though, not wanting to reveal too much to her. Once he was close enough, he could see her lips part, about to speak his name, but he took her cold hand before she could utter a single thing.

“Come with me.”

She nodded and followed after him, keeping themselves hidden in the pampas grass and heading towards a grove of trees a good distance away from the camps.

When they arrived, he released her hand, and stepped away. The air had turned thick between them and he didn’t know what to say. From the conflicted frown on her face, it seemed she felt the same way. All they could do was stare at each other in silence, searching each other’s faces for answers to the millions of questions running through their heads.

Eventually, he decided to speak first, unable to contain himself.

“You’re Nobunaga’s— what?” He was almost too afraid to hear the answer to this question, but knew he needed to confirm it and have himself move on from his delusions of romance once and for all.

“I’m a chatelaine for the Oda forces,” she replied.

“Chatelaine? You?” He couldn’t believe it. A girl like her, someone who seemed to hate the very idea of fighting and war, was a chatelaine, serving the very people who were starting a war. Besides, if she was a chatelaine...

“Then why are you here instead of at the castle?” he questioned in a tone more accusatory than he intended.

She couldn’t answer him. There was a mixture of hurt and sadness in her eyes, and dread filled him. His suspicions were probably right.

“You’re Nobunaga’s woman?” The question came out softer now, and he closed his eyes, clenching his fists at his side.

Please, say you’re not. Please.

“Huh?” Confusion was painted all over her face, and he frowned.

“I can’t believe he’d bring his lover out onto the battlefield with him. What a fool!”

“No!” she exclaimed, interrupting his tirade. “It’s not like that! You’ve got it all wrong!”

It was the first time Yukimura saw her so genuinely angry. Her lips quivered and her hands fisted at her sides as she met his gaze fiercely.

“I came along because I wanted to help the people of Azuchi Castle! I hate this fighting, but I wanted to do what I could to keep the people I care about safe! I wanted to protect them, so—” She trailed off then, seeming to have run out of things to say.

That sounded more like the woman he knew her to be. To protect people and blindly charge into the battlefield like an idiot, it was just like her to do something that stupid.

A pang of guilt hit him, and he looked away, wishing he could take back what he’d said. “I see. I’m sorry I yelled.”

She shook her head, appearing to accept his apology, but she still looked dissatisfied. “So, Yuki, you’re an enemy of the Oda forces.”

It was his turn to be questioned now. “That’s right.”

“And your real name isn’t Yuki.”

“That’s right. My name is Yukimura Sanada. I’m a soldier in the service of Lord Shingen.”

The despair only grew in her eyes and in the moonlight, he could see that they were growing moist. He had a knack for always hurting her, it seemed.

“Tell me you’re lying!”

He could only close his eyes and breathe out a weary exhale. “It’s not a lie.” He wished it was. He really did. “I posed as a traveling merchant in Azuchi to spy on the Oda forces so that we could defeat our sworn enemy, Nobunaga, in this battle, and gather the remnants of Lord Shingen’s family and rebuild the Takeda clan. And so that I could finally return to my homeland.”

He hated the look in her eyes, and he felt like a dirty monster for lying to her all this time. Even though it had been for an honorable purpose, he still felt horrible now for deceiving her. But then again, she had also kept certain things from him, so he supposed that made them even.

“You weren’t in Echigo because of your ‘traveling performer brothers’, were you?”

“No,” she responded tiredly. “I was with Nobunaga and one of his men. It was a reconnaissance trip.”

“I see. I thought that story of yours sounded fishy.” A bitter, wry smile made its way onto his lips. “So, when we first met near Honno-ji, when we met again in Azuchi and when we ran into each other at a teahouse in Echigo, it wasn’t coincidence and it wasn’t so strange. It was all because we were spying on the enemy.”

The realisation made him feel sick. All this time, the coincidental meetings that he thought of as beautiful, chance encounters arranged by Fate, had really been a cruel way for two completely different people to meet and fall in love. It was almost laughable, only that he didn’t have the energy to laugh right then.

“Yuki—”

“Not Yuki,” he cut in coldly, eyes flashing to hers. “I have always been Yukimura. Your enemy.”

“Names don’t matter,” she insisted stubbornly. “Whether you call yourself Yuki or Yukimura, I know you and you are not my enemy.”

How could she say such a thing so easily? As if their problems could be fixed by nothing more than a change of names.

“Then what am I?” he challenged, certain that she would have no good answer to that.

As it turned out, she didn’t. Which only made her even madder and raise her voice at him. “You’re so annoying! Even in the middle of a battle you make my heart race and make me feel crazy with longing!”

“Uh—” This was definitely not the response he’d been expecting.

“You’re insensitive and tactless, but also sweet,” she continued rambling on, ignoring his meek protest. “You send my heart spinning with a kiss… You make me feel so frustrated I can’t even think straight! You’re such a jerk!”

“You—”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met on the battlefield today. I felt like I might burst if I didn’t see you again!”

“Stop!” he shouted, not wanting to listen further. The pain in his chest was only growing with each word she uttered.

“I won’t!” she yelled back, but the moisture gathering in her eyes betrayed the force of her voice, the strong front she was trying to put up in front of him.

Damn it, this woman was impossible. Didn’t she understand that they were enemies and that they were in the middle of a war? Only one side could emerge victorious and at the end of it, only one of them would walk out alive. They could never be together, no matter how much she shouted and made that sorry face, and no matter how much he listened quietly, all the while fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and to never let her go.

“Don’t make that pitiful face,” was all he could manage to say in response. He was wavering just like he had on the battlefield, and her making that sad, hurt expression wasn’t help at all.

“I can’t help it!” she cried, a tear finally slipping down her cheek.

His heart twisted in pain at the sight. He had never been good with emotions, and seeing her cry was one of the things he hated most.

Without realising it, he was already extending his arm toward her and in the next moment, he had her caged in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She responded eagerly by wrapping her arms around his neck, squeezing just as tightly, like she didn’t want him to let her go.

His chest swelled with emotions. It was wrong to be with her like this. But at the same time, nothing felt more right. He was transported back in time to that night when they were standing under that tree in the moonlight, listening to the fireworks crackling above their heads, and when she pulled away, gazing into his eyes with the same longing he’d seen that night, all his barriers came crashing down.

Just one more night. All he asked for was one more night to be Yuki, the man she had fallen in love with and the man who had fallen deeply in love with her.

He leaned in, capturing her lips with his and kissing her passionately. Throwing all caution to the wind, he allowed himself to get lost in the feel of her soft lips melding with his, the curve of her nose resting against his as her hot breaths fanned out against his face, and her breathless pants as he kissed her over and over, sliding his tongue against hers and listening to her whisper his name quietly.

Unable to stop himself now, his hand began sliding down her back, and it was only when it slipped dangerously low that he felt her gasp.

The sound made him tense up, and he hastily pulled away, jerking himself back to his senses. He glanced up, noting that the night sky wasn’t as dark anymore. Before long the camps would wake up and if they were missing, even he didn’t dare imagine the consequences.

“You should go,” he muttered, loosening his grip on her “It’ll be dawn soon.”

“No! I don’t want to leave you!”

“Go.” He kept his tone resolute, even though deep down, he wanted her to stay. To get lost in the taste of her and to make her his, because come dawn, he didn’t know if he would get to see her again. He could very well die the next time he got on the battlefield, and so could she. There was no telling what the gods had in store for them.

“No!”

“You— fool!”

If that was how she wanted it, and if she was insisting on spending the night here with him, then there was no telling what he would do.

But it seemed that she wanted it just as much as he did, if the desperate anticipation glimmering in her eyes was any indication.

If that was the case, then so be it. He took her by the end, gently nudging her down till she was lying on her back on the bed of soft grass, while he hovered over her. Her hair billowed out around her face, and it only made the tension in his stomach grow.

Leaning in closer till his nose was brushing hers, he whispered, “You’re a real fool. And so am I.”

She offered him a sad smile, and reached up to stroke his cheek tenderly. “Yukimura.”

The way his name left her lips made him suck in a sharp breath, and he wanted to hear more of her sweet voice.

He uttered her name in return, letting the syllables slowly roll of his tongue before sealing the distance between their lips again. This time he kissed her more passionately, teasing her by biting her bottom lip, pushing his tongue into her mouth and listening to the moans that she made for him.

A/N: I’m afraid you’ll need a story ticket to read the rest of this story... ahaha. I’ve spent enough time on this, I decided to write this on a whim because I played episode 7 of Yukimura’s route which basically destroyed me, so it was bugging me all day to write this whole thing out based on the events in episode 7. :’)) Maybe when I have more time I’ll write out the rest of this scene.... ;)

[brutuskorov]

betrayal never comes from the enemy...

(a character analysis)

basic information

FULL NAME: boris korov PRONUNCIATION: BO-ris KO-rov MEANING: boris - fight, fighter. REASONING: his father named him long before he was born. boris, fighter, if he was a boy. sezia, protector, if he’d been born a girl. for his father, his child (regardless of gender) was to be his legacy -- he meant for the name ‘korov’ to mean something. boris is not as ambitious as his father; he’s more of a follower than a leader, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t follow his father’s words. (it is lesser known that is mother called him borya, little snatches of affection he holds close to his chest.)  NICKNAME(S): brutus, borya PREFERRED NAME(S): brutus BIRTH DATE: december 23rd AGE: 33 ZODIAC: capricorn GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him/his ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual (while boris has experienced attraction towards multiple genders, he only ever acts on it with women) NATIONALITY: russian ETHNICITY: alaskan native; kuyokan-athabascan CURRENT LOCATION: verona, italy LIVING CONDITIONS: simple & stark, though he has the means for a more luxurious life. TITLE(S): emissary

background

BIRTH PLACE: yekatrinburg, russia HOMETOWN: verona, italy (since he was a teen) SOCIAL CLASS: boris was born poor. his father earned well enough through his criminal dealings, but spent it just as quickly -- he was a man who enjoyed life and didn’t believe in the notion of saving. boris himself made his way up  EDUCATION LEVEL: boris’ education is haphazard and all over the place due to the instability of his father’s career. he completed his 12th year in italy, but went back to russia to spend some time in the conscripted army. boris didn’t return to school for a while, focusing more on mafia activities. he did return to school and started a degree in strategic management when he left verona, but dropped the program when he returned to the Montagues. FATHER: vadim korov MOTHER: juniper korov née locklear SIBLING(S): talia korov (deceased before boris’ birth) BIRTH ORDER: i. talia -- ii. boris CHILDREN: n/a PET(S): a moroccoan uromastyx named ‘lizard’ OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: cousin -- ava locklear (located in america); niece -- sonya locklear (located in america) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a ARRESTS?: a couple times for teenage stupidity, but his connections to the mafia meant he always got off PRISON TIME?: n/a

occupation & income

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: private military contractor through almaz-antey SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: montague emissary TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: n/a APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: appx.  € 180,000 / year CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: boris knows he didn’t earn his job -- he was placed there with the intention of smoothing the way for montague goals. he’s specifically assigned to various pharmaceutical and drug companies where he intentionally suggests security plans that leave room for the montagues to take their share. it also allows him to play the part of a bodyguard when necessary. the job satisfies the hum under his skin that demands action but it isn’t exactly his passion.   PAST JOB(S): montague soldier SPENDING HABITS: he doesn’t really spend money beyond essentials. of course, at this point, essentials includes paying off contracted killers, bribing government officials, etc. picking apart a mafia empire isn’t cheap, but he doesn’t really spend money on himself. he’s not thrifty but his income to expenditure ratio means he ends up having plenty in his bank account. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: tucked in a cabinet by his flat’s front door is a getaway bag -- it contains burner phones, travel documents, everything he could need to run again.

skills & abilities

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 8/10 OFFENSE: 7/10 DEFENSE: 7/10 SPEED: 7/10 INTELLIGENCE: 8/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 6/10 STAMINA: 9/10 TEAMWORK: 5/10 TALENTS: tactics & strategy, far-sighted, detailed SHORTCOMINGS: disloyal, selfish, detached LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: russian (fluent), italian (fluent, but accented), english (passable) DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: no PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no PLAY CHESS?: yes BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: no PICK A LOCK?: yes

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: martin sensmeier EYE COLOR: dark brown HAIR COLOR: black HAIR TYPE/STYLE: usually short -- he wore it in a buzzcut during his brief stint in military GLASSES/CONTACTS?: n/a DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 6′1″ WEIGHT: 75 kg BUILD: tall, solid -- not buff, but not lean either EXERCISE HABITS: he’s very regimented in his exercise -- runs early every morning, weight trains every other day, practices hand to hand fairly frequently. he likes moving in any form. SKIN TONE: dark brown with warm, coppery undertones  TATTOOS: though he’s often contemplated getting one, he hasn’t found a design he’d like to commit to PEIRCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: a scar on his leg from jumping a barbed wire fence, a bullet scar on his shoulder, a couple others here and there he doesn’t even remember getting -- he fought too often to remember every scar NOTABLE FEATURES: high cheek bones and full lips; his gaze is very flat USUAL EXPRESSION: stoic, veering towards a scowl  CLOTHING STYLE: he gets cold easily, so he wears jackets well into summer. he prefers neutral tones. dark jeans, beige turtleneck and an army jacket is a very typical basic outfit that he’ll wear anywhere. JEWELRY: n/a. ALLERGIES: peanuts BODY TEMPERATURE: normal DIET: his diet is unhealthy in that he very rarely cooks for himself, but he does eat a variety of food and prefers high protein diets. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a

psychology

JUNG TYPE: ISTJ JUNG SUBTYPE: Type A ENNEAGRAM TYPE: type 8 – the challenger MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: earth PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: kinesthetic/spatial APPROXIMATE IQ: 110 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: n/a SOCIABILITY: introvert EMOTIONAL STABILITY: stable, his mood does not shift easily OBSESSION(S): damiano montague COMPULSION(S): he’s very particular about the state of things in his home. he likes it clean and neat. PHOBIA(S): n/a ADDICTION(S): he knows his father had a problem with gambling so he avoids it DRUG USE: he prefers alcohol to drugs ALCOHOL USE: he drinks to unwind, sticking to beers mostly. at parties he’ll go for dark liquors but he doesn’t particularly care for booze. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: ha. yes. but he’s tempered his instincts well.

mannerisms

SPEECH STYLE: when he speaks, it is short and concise, never more than necessary. he will answer questions at face value and doesn’t elaborate unless asked. He takes lots of pauses and is slow to reveal his thoughts. ACCENT: his russian is flawless, his italian less so -- the words tend to come out a bit harsher. his english is passable with a strong russian accent. QUIRKS: if boris can walk somewhere instead of taking a vehicle, he will. he hates public transportation however, and prefers motorcycles to every other vehicle. HOBBIES: running, walking, listen to music HABITS: he runs every morning, immediately after waking up. he drinks his coffee black (he doesn’t like espresso). he wakes up at 5:45 am every morning, no matter what time he went to bed. boris is inherently a man of habit, he likes routines. NERVOUS TICKS: fist clenching and setting his jaw DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: revenge, justice, respect, family FEARS: failure POSITIVE TRAITS: driven, reliable, dedicated, detailed NEGATIVE TRAITS: selfishness, fails to see bigger picture, disloyal SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcasm, understatements, subtle humor DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: to emphasize a point. CATCHPHRASE(S): n/a

favorites

ACTIVITY: running ANIMAL: gazelle BEVERAGE: water BOOK: he doesn’t really read. CELEBRITY: natalie dormer COLOR:  navy blue DESIGNER: he doesn’t know designers.  FOOD: pierogies FLOWER: red poppies (his mother’s favorite) GEM: diamonds HOLIDAY: winter holidays in general MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking MOVIE: the good, the bad, the ugly MUSICAL ARTIST: jidenna QUOTE/SAYING: “no legacy is so rich as honesty.” SCENERY: wide open lakes that are frozen over SCENT: pine SPORT: boxing SPORTS TEAM: italian football TELEVISION SHOW: 24 WEATHER: cold & brisk VACATION DESTINATION: mountains

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: destroying the montagues GREATEST FEAR: failing his father’s legacy MOST AT EASE WHEN: running LEAST AT EASE WHEN: attending fancy parties WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: getting caught in his schemes before he’s ready BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: returning to the montagues despite his betrayal BIGGEST REGRET: leaving in the first place -- he has to re-prove himself MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: when he was young, he once cried after falling. his father laughed so hard, he never cried over little things again. BIGGEST SECRET: he betrayed the montagues to a russian mob TOP PRIORITIES: slowly dismantling the montague empire

[cheeseeatingtrashmonster]

Large and Empty, Small and Full

GabeNath Week day 4: Silence.

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Read the whole week on AO3

ONE

Nathalie worked in silence, eating around her notes and tablet. Gabriel ate with her, quiet enough that she could forget he was there for the most part. When she finished eating, she decided to make use of Gabriel.

"Could you write down everything you remember from performing the spell? Every ingredient, what it looked like at each stage, if it gave off any smells or created any feelings in you, things like that."

"Of course," Gabriel said, grabbing paper and a pen. He scribbled quietly while she continued translating.

"Do you have any other reference materials I can use, Dear?"

It took a moment for Gabriel to realize she was speaking to him, then a moment more to realize what she had said wrong.

"How long were you two married?"

She looked up, and the way she blinked until her mind focused on the world around her instead of the puzzle of the translation was the most familiar, most "Nathalie" thing he had seen her do yet.

"Three and a half years. Sorry for the slip. We only... lost him two months ago."

"There's a few books under the bench if you need them," Gabriel said.

"You need them," Nathalie corrected, focused back on her puzzle again. "These concepts here, I need you to see if there's an alternate meaning, common phrase, uncommon phrase, anything like that, because in the context of this sentence, the direct translation doesn't sound right." She tapped a piece of paper with a short list of untranslated phrases.

Remembering her threats and that she could manhandle him like a misbehaving kitten, Gabriel merely sighed and pulled out the necessary books, opening them and remembering why he dropped out of university to start a fashion empire.

/*****/

TWO

Everywhere in the house was loud. The kitchen and dining room as dinner was cleared away, obviously, had the most people and most noise. The purple living room quickly filled, and even the back porch (where Nathalie had hidden for the rest of dinner, ignoring the late fall chill) became occupied. Nathalie went upstairs. Penny and Jagged's door was closed but she could hear voices behind it and Adrien's room was full of teens, the door half open and letting out their laughter. It reminded her why she was upset, and she went in the only unoccupied room- Nathalie Agreste's.

Nathalie sat on the bed, trying to decide what to do. She considered taking a nap, but thought better of it. Better to turn in early that night. She went to the desk and sifted through plans she couldn't understand. The handwriting was hers but slanted a bit and not as smudged as her own left handed writing tended to be. She set the papers aside and found a notebook. She started writing down everything she remembered about the spell and the process of creating it. She didn't remember enough to recreate it, but this felt like doing something, so she continued. After she had filled a few pages with notes, she flipped to a fresh page.

"Mr. Agreste,

I must"

She wasn't sure what she was writing, or why, so she left it there and put the notebook away.

/*****/

ONE

"I'm aware you don't want my opinion," Gabriel said, yanking Nathalie from her flow state.

"You're learning, that's good," she muttered.

"We will not finish this tonight. Not through lack of effort. And even if we did pinpoint where the translation and implementation of the spell went wrong, I don't think either of us have the knowledge to figure out how to safely reverse the damage. If you want, you may take a guest room for the night- for the duration of your stay, if that would be easier for you. But this is not sustainable and will not be productive for much longer tonight."

He laid out a rational argument, appealing to long-term productivity and efficiency. She hated him for it.

"Does your Nathalie stay over often?"

"Every now and then, when we work too late and neither of us are awake enough to drive her home safely. Adrien won't find it unusual. I can take you to her apartment tomorrow to get clothes, if you like."

Nathalie nodded. "Fine. Tonight I stay, tomorrow I'll start using her apartment." She jotted down a couple notes. "She doesn't have a pet that will die without me, does she?"

"Not unless she was hiding it from me the last time I dropped her off."

They worked a half hour longer, just because Nathalie was mad at Gabriel, then she declared them done for the night.

Gabriel showed Nathalie a room and even procured pajamas in her size. They exchanged snide remarks and she slammed the door in his face.

In his room, Gabriel unbuttoned his shirt and stood before the mirror. There was a bruise along his neck where his shirt had cut into his throat when Nathalie jerked him off his stool earlier. She was... not what he expected. She looked like Nathalie, she talked like Nathalie, she moved like Nathalie. She fought like a soldier.

Like a mother separated from her child.

/***/

Nathalie found herself, unsurprisingly, unable to sleep in the guest room of a giant empty mansion. She was used to hearing Adrien on video chat with Marinette until all hours of the night, hearing Jagged and Penny singing to their unborn baby, hearing sirens down the street. She also found herself unable to cry, as she had been unable to cry over her lost Gabriel so many times. She had kept her emotions so tightly controlled in front of people for so long that once she was alone, she couldn't always turn those feelings back on.

She gave up on sleep and found a robe to throw over her pajamas. She made her way down to the kitchen, making no noise even in the unfamiliar house. Paon was the sneaky one of the hero duo. Gabriel had been the dramatic, attention-grabbing one. He pretended to complain about being the distraction, but really he was the first line of defense, allowing Paon to get in position to use her darts with the precision of an assassin.

Nathalie didn't encounter a single soul on the way and found the kitchen empty. The hum of the refrigerator was at least some noise, and she could feel herself relaxing. She found a kettle and set up for tea. She sat at the small island she and Adrien had shared earlier and sipped her tea, trying to get her brain to stop processing a thousand things at once. She pulled the personal tablet from her pocket and set it on the counter, using a list making app to see if getting some thoughts out of her brain and onto "paper" would help.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know you were here," Adrien said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Work ran later than expected and I may have had a bit too much coffee," Nathalie said. "Would you like tea?"

"I was just grabbing a midnight snack."

She nodded and pretended to return to her work. Really she watched Adrien poke around the kitchen, considering a food before putting it back.

"Eat whatever you're craving," she said. "If you're too skinny, you can't model. And if you don't eat enough, you won't grow tall enough to stay a model. So any objection your father might have is unfounded."

"I'm not sure he'll see it that way," Adrien said, taking an apple to the sink to rinse.

"Then I'll make him see it that way," Nathalie said. "Have some peanut-butter with that apple, or cheese."

Adrien grabbed peanut-butter and a knife and started to head to the door.

"You don't have to leave," Nathalie said. Adrien back-tracked to sit with her.

"You're sure you're okay?" Adrien asked after a minute.

"It scared you, seeing me like that?" Nathalie asked.

Adrien nodded. "I didn't know what to do. I still think I probably should have called for an ambulance."

She put her hand on his. "I promise I'm fine. I'm so sorry I scared you."

She watched him eat and took more notes.

"Do you have my schedule for tomorrow?"

She flipped through a few screens and brought up the schedule labeled "Adrien" and- wait, this couldn't be right. The schedule was overfilled for an adult. This was not okay.

"Oh, so I don't have time to see Nino's flute recital."

Adrien finished his snack, thanked her, and left.

Nathalie stared at that schedule for a while. She flipped back through the past few days. Then she started searching for something specific.

Three weeks.

Gabriel Agreste, Asshole Edition, had not had a meal with his son in three weeks. And she knew that for sure, because every meal was scheduled, and every cancelled appointment was marked as such.

She was going to kill that man.

/*****/

TWO

The house emptied out quickly after nine that night, a curfew apparently making people rush. Nathalie came downstairs to try to apologize and play the hostess, since she knew no other role to adopt. People tried to encourage her, vowing to help her get home any way they could, and some cynical part of her tried to cling to the idea that they were saying this because they just wanted their General back.

"MmmNathalie?"

He had tried to call her "Mom" again.

"Yes, Adrien?"

"How are you doing?" He sat in the living room and fiddled with one of the remote controls on the table. How had the other Nathalie not replaced them all with a universal remote yet?

"I'm... just a little tired from trying to keep up with everything."

Adrien smiled sadly. "You have the same expressions as her. You try to hide things from me like she does. You know, both of my parents tried to hide that they were miraculous holders from me?"

Nathalie sat on the other end of the couch. "Tell me about them."

He spoke slowly at first, declaring this "weird to tell someone with Mom's face", but he picked up after a few minutes. She heard stories of how Gabriel and Nathalie had searched for the missing miraculouses, working with some mystery figure called "the Guardian" to find the miraculouses through research, magic, and detective work. He told her that they went on this search because Adrien got caught near one of the early attack sites and they couldn't sit back and let that happen again, to him or anyone else's son. He laughed as he recounted the night he finally caught them sneaking back in and accused them of everything under the sun (cheating on each other, black market organ dealing, and running a kidnapping ring) before Gabriel broke and tried to transform. He couldn't because Nooroo needed to recharge, but it was a conversation starter. Adrien was about to start a story about helping his father pick out an engagement ring when Jagged walked in.

"It's late," he said. "We have a war counsel tomorrow. I know you're not the General, but you're invited to join, if you like."

Nathalie was about to politely decline when Adrien sat up straight on the couch.

"Can I-"

"No," Jagged said, ruffling Adrien's hair. "You can work on becoming the world's best babysitter for when little Stevie or Elvis is born."

All three went upstairs and as Nathalie reached for her door, Adrien stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"I know you're not her," he said. "I know it. But..."

Nathalie hugged him. It was what he needed. It was what they both needed.

"But your last parent disappeared on you today, and you need a hug," she said, running a hand over his hair. "I'll get her back for you somehow."

She fell asleep with that vow echoing in her head.

/*****/

ONE

The kitchen had been good for more than tea the night before. Nathalie felt safer with a couple knives hidden on and around her, even in sleep. This was how Gabriel found one of his favorite shirts with a tear in the sleeve and a knife in the hallway wall behind him the next morning.

"You just threw a knife at me!"

Nathalie sat bolt upright and stared at him, her arm still extended towards him.

"I also suspect you only missed because your glasses weren't on."

"What time is it?" Nathalie asked, shoving her hair from her face and pushing her glasses on, scrambling from the bed.

"Almost eight. You had mentioned that Nathalie's phone went with her, I guess I didn't think to ask if you had yours. A lack of alarm clock was a silly thing to- what are you doing?"

Nathalie had surveyed the room while he spoke and then opened the closet, walked in, and closed it behind her.

"Getting dressed."

"You don't have any clothes in there. There's nothing in there."

"My clothes from yesterday."

"Oh. Anyway, I will order you a phone. Not particularly useful, an assistant without a phone."

"Fine. I'll meet you downstairs in a minute."

Gabriel left, removing the knife from the wall and returning it to the kitchen. He should feel shaken, he knew, but mostly he was impressed.

Nathalie leaned her forehead against the door of the closet, trying to calm her shaking. She knew this was the other Earth, the other Gabriel, but part of her couldn't let go of the split second feeling of "You almost threw a knife into your husband's chest".

Gabriel wouldn't have noticed anything was wrong had Nathalie not hesitated when he held out a travel mug of coffee to her. That pause broke the rhythm of the morning just enough that when she reached for the coffee he could see her hand shaking.

So, this woman did feel something other than rage. He might be able to use that.

On the way to Nathalie's apartment, she remembered why she was mad at him. More mad at him, anyway.

"You are no longer cancelling meals with Adrien," she said. "Furthermore, his schedule will be relaxed so that he has time to be a teenager. Also, stop policing what he eats."

"You don't get to tell me how to raise my son." Gabriel kept his voice level, but he realized he should have expected this from her. She parented the Adrien in her world, after all.

"No, you're right. I'm simply telling you to raise him."

"He is healthy, doing well in school, well liked by his peers, accomplished in languages, music, athletics-"

"Was he this busy when Emilie was around?"

He clenched his teeth, trying not to grind them. "No, he was not. I keep him busy so he doesn't have the time to dwell and wallow."

"If that was true, you'd spend time with him."

"Again, you don't get to tell me how to raise my son." Nooroo was squirming around in his pocket the way he would when Gabriel's emotions became strong. It bothered him even more that this impostor was able to get a reaction out of him.

"What would Emilie think, Gabriel?"

They were lucky they had just pulled in the apartment complex because Gabriel slammed on the breaks and turned on Nathalie. "Emilie is why I can't see him!" Gabriel shouted. "He looks like her. He talks like her. He thinks like her. His sadness and mine are the same- an absence of her in our lives, and every time I see him I'm reminded that I haven't brought his mother back yet. I can't live with that, Nathalie. I can't."

He had lost steam as he shouted, sagging against the seat.

Nathalie nodded. "You've needed to say that for a while?"

"Apparently."

She glanced at the apartment complex. "Don't bother waiting for me, I need a shower. I will extend the start time of magical research based on what time I get back to the mansion."

"I'll see you soon, then."

[sombrasdatabase]

All's Fair in Love and War (Chapter 1)

Content/TW: Overwatch, Gangster AU, Pharah, Sombra, McCree, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Character Death.

The car slowed to a crawl as it turned down the dead end street just as the rain started to pick up. Houses were boarded up and broken down on either side of the pot hole ridden road. The driver's side window rolled down as the car parked outside a rundown looking house that was really no different from the others aside from the shouting coming from inside its walls. The red glow of a cherry lit up the woman's face as she pulled another drag from her cigarette. It was a nasty habit. She reached into the glove box and pulled her gun out, checking to make sure it was still loaded before she opened the door and stepped out of her car. She flicked the cigarette into the middle of the road before slipping her gun into the waistband of her jeans and pulling her jacket over it.

She made her way over the cracked sidewalk and up the walkway to the door. The street was relatively quiet except for the sounds of cars passing by in the distance, the pitter-patter of the rain, and the yelling of a man she once considered a friend until he'd started to short her on money for the product she'd given him to deal. She was trying to get her foot in the door here in Mexico, and he seemed like the kind of person she could trust given their history. She leaned her head against the door listening hard to what was going on inside. Whatever was going on in there certainly didn't sound like anything good.

Fareeha took a couple steps back before kicking the door in. There was a pause in the banging as they sound of the front door slamming back against the wall seemed to catch their attention. She walked in and slowly looked around. There was a trail of green glass shards leading out of the kitchen towards the steps with drops of crimson staining the steps. She reached for her gun before carefully making her way up the stairs. Judging by the hat and the poncho sitting on the back of the couch and the dirt crusted boots laying on the floor Jesse had to be home.

Her eyes followed the trail until she reached a broken door that was barely hanging on its hinges after someone had kicked it in. She glanced up when she heard a gruff grunt.

"Howdy kiddo." Jesse grinned running his fingers through his blood caked hair before holding his hands out in surrender when he noticed her gun. "You caught me at a bad time."

"What's going on Jesse? The house looks like a wreck." Fareeha questioned as she lowered her weapon.

"Oh don't worry about all that." He said with a shrug as he started to walk towards her. "Why don't you tell me why you're here? Aren't you supposed to be in Egypt with your mother?"

"I'm here on business. You still haven't coughed up the money yet." She stated watching him closely. He seemed a little under the influence, or maybe it was just the gash on his hairline making him act this way.

"Oh right. Well sorry to say kiddo, but I don't have it. The feds got a hold of it while my boys were out selling it." Her eyes narrowed at him when he called her by that nickname again. Too many people still saw her as nothing more than Ana Amari's daughter even now that she was running the family business.

"I'm not a kid anymore Jesse. I'm your boss, and you need to hand over the money or the product. You and I both know you wouldn't be pulling this shit if my mother was standing here."

"Relax Reeha-" He started, but a soft whimper caught their attention and her gaze shifted to the bathroom door he'd clearly been banging on judging by the bloody prints on the white wood before she'd interrupted him.

"Who's there?" Fareeha called out. She didn't need any of Jesse's one night stands overhearing their business. 

“It’s no one. Let’s go.” Jesse said taking Fareeha by arm starting to pull her out of the room, but she stood her ground as the bathroom door creaked open slowly. Her almond gaze fell on a the form of a short woman who was holding onto the door for support. There was a pool of blood smeared at her feet as she stared back at her with eyes that were practically begging her for help.

The sight shocked Fareeha to say the least. She never imagined that Jesse was the kind of man to get violent with his women, but the angered look that crossed his face when he saw the young woman was all the convincing she needed. She shrugged him off before making her way over to the bathroom door. It looked like she was getting more than she bargained for by coming here tonight, but she was a sucker for women in need. When McCree stepped to follow she held up her gun in his direction once more.

"Don't move Jesse." She ordered before turning her gaze back to the girl. "Did he do this to you?"

She nodded quickly. She seemed scared, and Fareeha didn't like how frail she looked. Whatever was going on it had clearly been going on for a while.

"You lying little bitch! You attacked me!" McCree bit out from where he stood by the door. Fareeha turned to shoot him a glare that instantly shut him up.

"Do you want to leave him? I can take you with me." She told her. She wanted to help her. Even if she had taken over her mother's empire, she still had a sense of justice instilled in her. She never hurt women or children when it came down to taking care of business.

"Si. I would like to leave." The smaller woman said. Her voice was hoarse from crying, but Fareeha could see the fire burning in her violet eyes.

"Then you'll come with me tonight until we can figure something out for you." Fareeha assured her before holding out her hand for her to take. “You’re not taking her anywhere Fareeha. She belongs to me. I bought her off her pimp.” McCree argued, taking another step towards them. “Then she will be my compensation for the drugs that you haven’t paid me back for. Unless of course you’d rather I take your life Jesse.” “You wouldn’t kill me. We have history. I’m practically family.” “You know my mother wouldn’t stand for this incompetence. She might not be here to deal with you herself, but I am and if you don’t step aside and let me take the girl I will do what I came here to do in the first place.” Fareeha stated with a glare. She needed men to respect her like they did her mother, and if she gave McCree any slack she knew he would take it a mile. “Now move.” The smaller woman was practically clinging to her free arm as they made their way past McCree. Fareeha could feel the trembles through the hold she had on her. She would have picked her up given the state of her feet, but she needed to keep McCree at bay with the threat of her gun.  Just as they were about to turn the corner of the door she felt the pressure on her arm disappear as Jesse yanked the woman back into the room. He was on her like a rabid dog, his hands tight around her throat. It was a split second decision before the sound of gunfire filled the room, and the woman’s eyes were wide with horror as she was covered in his blood when his body went limp on top of her. Fareeha pushed his body off of her before kneeling down to pick her up. She was light as a feather in her arms as she carried her down the blood stained stairs and out to her car. She handed her a blanket from her trunk after getting her settled into the back seat. She would have to get the interior detailed to get the blood from her clothes off the seat. “Before we go is there anything you need from the house?” “ Arturito. He’s on the bed.” She said softly. She seemed to be in a state of shock after what she’d experienced and Fareeha couldn’t really blame her. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” She told her before walking back up to the house while pulling her phone out to have her men clean up the mess, and dispose of McCree’s body. Her mother would be furious with her if she knew how much of a messy job she’d done tonight, but there were more pressing concerns. She shook her head as she stepped over McCree’s body. It was a shame she’d had to resort to killing him, but what other option did she have. He was more of a violent drunk than she’d expected and it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d been the one shooting up the drugs she’d given him to sell.  She lifted the pillows before finding a teddy bear stuffed beneath them. It looked old and worn. There were small stitches along the seams where someone had clearly repaired it over the years. She pocketed her phone before taking the bear back out to the car. She was a bit surprised to see that the woman hadn’t ran off at the first chance she had, but she was relieved to say the least. That woman didn’t look like she could survive a night on the streets. She handed her the bear before walking around the car and getting into the driver’s seat just as her men pulled up behind them to clean up the mess she’d made.  “Let’s get you home. I’ll have the cooks whip up something to eat for you and the maids will run you a bath.” Fareeha told her before starting up the car and driving off.