#after their father left (minus the years lost to the war of course)

[normalbrothers]

tommy's faith and trust in arthur's ability to take charge/take responsibility/be The Man is so astounding and bitter sweet, both in terms of how much the war broke arthur but also tommy's own sentimentality when it comes to him. and it's not a belief based on nothing at all either! it's knowledge and experience, and it's sort of the core problem when it comes to the frustration and resentment they feel towards each other; the constant back and forth and never seeing eye-to-eye despite craving that very thing and wanting something from the other that is impossible to give, because they are both so damaged in such irreparable ways

[katsubiatch]

Distant Shores-1

Summary: The heathens came to raid every year, stealing treasures and killing along the way. Your father was the King of Wessex and wanted to strike a deal with the heathens. The heathens and their ruthless numbers in exchange for some lands to farm, riches... and you. You are the Christian princess that is now to marry the Heathen King, a man that you're sure would rather kill you than marry you. This is going to be a miserable marriage.

A Viking!BakugouxReader fic.

Warnings: Arrange Marriage, general viking things, abusive father

They came every year, rowing to shore in their long boats with the intricately decorated dragon or serpent heads, shields of all colors decorating the sides. They would set up camp near the edges of the water, far enough to stay dry but not so far that they couldn't leave in a haste if need be. Violent in their tendencies and lacking the most simple of manners. Vulgar in their speech but carefree and happy. Men and women fighting side by side. They were tall, muscular, built like the gods they worshiped. Some with long hair that was braided back from their face, others with the sides shorn short and what was left was braided. Almost all had some sort of facial hair, minus the young ones desperately trying to grow it in, and if that was long enough it would be braided as well. Their clothing was not all together different from what you were used to. Perhaps not as ostentatious or gaudy as a he clothing around court. It was practical and useful, rather than just for show. Your father, the King of Wessex, was intrigued by these heathens as he called them. They had came ashore last year, destroying a few temples and killing all the holy men and women inside of them while stealing all the treasure inside, before taking their leave back to their homelands. It was interesting to say the least, though they had heard of these northmen before this was only the second time they had made camp on their shores. So In an effort of good faith your father decided to invite them to the castle, to talk he said. He wanted to strike a deal with them. He was going to offer a few things he thought they could not refuse. So he sent out a messenger to bring back their leaders for a feast. They spoke in a different tongue, looking at the women of court with lustful eyes as they ate. One man, who seemed to be their leader spoke up as he looked at the King. "What is it you have to offer me?" He spoke your language but it was choppy with the words out of place. You were surprised to find he knew the words at all. His hair was short on the sides, the rest braided back until it ended in a short pony tail. He had red eyes that you felt could pierce through anything or anyone. Scars littered his arms and bare chest, an axe and a sword at his hips. "Well, I am willing to offer some lands for you to do as you wish. Farm, build settlements. They are yours to do as you wish. I am also willing to offer you something more." The man said, grinning at the Viking earl. "I am offering my pure daughter, Y/N, to you." You. You were an offering. You always knew that your marriage would be arranged but you didn't think like this. To someone who had different customs, a different language, a different land someone who was different in almost every way possible. You wanted to throw up

The last thing that you thought your father was going to offer up was you. After all you were his only daughter and you figured that you would be married off to someone, a prince or lord in order for you father to gain some lands or troops for wars. Though you supposed this was kind of the same thing. The last thing that you expected was to be offered up to the Heathen King. You could feel his gaze on you, calculating red eyes watching your every move. You kept your eyes downcast, a habit from living in the castle for so long. You tried your hardest to hide the look of shock on your face, train it into a neutral expression.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get the Christian princess." One of the men next to the Heathen king spoke to him, in their language. One that you didn't understand.

"I have no need for a wife... but I could make it work. His proposition is interesting. I feel like he is going to double cross us."

The viking seemed to contemplate for a minute, hand rubbing over his chin as he looked you up and down before looking back at his men. "I will accept your offer, but I am surprised you would give up your virgin daughter to such a... heathen like myself." You could feel your face heat up at that, like they were talking about you without you even being there, despite the fact that you could feel the Vikings eyes on you the entire time.

"Well you are the man I need to make an alliance with right now." Your father stated, leaning back in his chair. "She will make a fine wife, I'm sure she can adjust to your ways." It became quite obvious to Bakugou that the king did not care about his daughter and what happened to her. He knew of the rumors that were spread about them. How they raped women and killed them when they no longer 'served their purpose.' He could tell you were scared but it seemed as though your father did not care.

"Then she will leave with us in the morning, we will be married under our Gods." Bakugou grunted, taking a long drink out of his cup, eyes never leaving your shaking frame. There was not much more that you could take, you didn't want to marry yet let alone a barbarian that you didn't even know. Someone who hardly spoke your language, who had different customs and Gods than you.

You excused yourself and made your way out of the hall, running as soon as you were out of sight. You couldn't slow your breaths, they were coming much too fast. You felt as though you were hyperventilating and needed to calm down. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would be okay. Once you made it to your room you had calmed down just a bit. You still did not want to marry this man. He looked cruel and would surely just have his way with you.

You sighed as you sat at your vanity, taking out the clips and pins that held your hair up in its complicated look. You supposed now you'd have to have it in the braids you saw on all the Viking women. You moved it back away from your face when you heard a knock on the door that caused your heart to race. You knew it was your father, sent to give you instructions that you didn't want to follow.

"Well, you embarrassed me out there. Running away like that, it's almost like you don't want to marry that brute." Your father hadn't waited for an answer to come in. "You have to make him happy, the last thing I want is them storming our shores because you're too stupid to please this man."

"Father I don't want to marry him. I do not know him and... and what if he kills me? You could marry me off to a prince from a neighboring land and they could offer your army to help if the viki,.." you started to say before you were struck against the cheek. The king of Wessex didn't like being told what to do, especially not by a woman.

"You will listen to what I have to say child, you will do as you are told, no questions. You will marry that brute and you will like it. Keep him pleased bed remind him of our treaty or I can send someone to remind you of your place." Your father threatened, pointing a finger in your face while you held your cheek and tears sprang out of your eyes. You had thought perhaps he had some shred of love left for you, however he just saw you as a bargaining chip.

That night you did not sleep well, tossing and turning. Dreaming about a pair of bright red eyes.

The next morning your maids had dressed your for the last time, putting you in a simple dress and cloak that wasn't too showy but was still made of fine fabrics that showed your status. A bruise had formed on your cheek from your fathers ring but that was something he didn't try to hide anymore. His daughter had a wild tongue according to him, and he needed to correct it. This wasn't the first time that he had struck you, but you were hopeful it would be the last. Unless of course your new husband was the same.

You were told you didn't need to pack anything, your husband to be would provide everything that you'd need. Least that is what they told your father. So down you went to where they were waiting, restless horses under even more restless men. They'd been giving plenty of gold and treasures to get them through the winter so they were eager to get back home. "Here she is, your future wife." The King said, presenting you to the Viking leader. You dared to look up at him, seeing the same eyes that had plagued your dreams. You watched his eyes flick around your face, lingering on your cheek before landing on your eyes. You soon looked away, not wanting to cause any new problems. It was the way you were raised, never look a man too long in the eyes. It was disrespectful. "She has some problems obeying but I am sure you can get her in line." The king winked befor pushing your towards the horse that Bakugou was on. He looked down at you before hoisting you on top of the beast to sit in front of him. Your face turned a bright pink, you'd never been this close to a man before, and his bare chest was burning into your back. You supposed that you'd have to get used to this if you were to be married soon.

Your father and future husband shared a few words with each other that you didn't pay attention to before you were off. The entire ride the few Vikings that had come along we're all talking in their own language, nothing that you understood but they seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and joking. You were lost in your own world, gently running your fingers over the horses mane before you heard the man behind you speak up. "What happened to your face?"

You weren't expecting it after how quiet he'd been for the entire ride so you jumped at the sudden noise behind you. You chewed on your cheek, deciding on an answer before landing on, "My father was correcting me. That is all." You weren't sure of the correct answer but that apparently wasn't it as you heard a grunt behind you and a small growl.

Before long you made it back to the Viking camp, which was mostly torn down at this point, bustling with activity. The boats were being packed, tents torn down and supplies being put up. You were in awe at how fast they worked, and were intrigued with the people and what they were doing. It was almost like a culture shock, you were used to the castle and this was something different. The man that was to be your husband helped you off your horse and gave you a warning to stay close. In the matter of an hour everything was packed up, you staying close to the man was he went around inspecting work and checking things before he lifted you onto a boat and climbed on himself.

The boat itself was amazing, all the little attentions to detail was beautiful, your fingers traced over the edge and the little designs there. You were again in awe, you could deal with this. If you could see little things of beauty like this then you could take it. Once set off to the sea your eyes were wide with wonder. You hadn't ever been this far before, you hadn't even been out on the water and it was breath taking. You couldn't get enough. That is... until you were sprayed in the face with the water. You coughed and shook your head, as the men on the boat laughed. You didn't complain however, you were still just in awe of the sights. What you didn't notice was a curious pair of eyes watching you from the other end of the boat, never leaving you as he watched you drink in everything. He was curious about you, that was for sure.

After getting hit with the ocean water you learned your lesson about staying too close to the edge. However as night time drew closer and the sun went below the horizon it was freezing and your cloak wasn't cutting it. However you didn't complain, instead just hugged it closer to yourself.

"It looks like your princess is going to freeze to death." One of the rowing men commented, looking over to Bakugou. "Might want to warm her up."

Bakugou heard this and in turn stood up with a grunt before walking over to you and unceremoniously dropped on of his furs onto your shoulders. You looked curiously up at him, but melted into the warmth it gave. "Thank you." You chattered out, cuddling close to the furs.

"Can't let you freeze, princess." Bakugou murmured as shuffled back over to where he came from. You watched him go and smiled softly, perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

[jadoue1999]

Peter Maximoff’s complicated relationship with Star Wars

Summary: Peter didn't like Star Wars. But not because they were bad movies, no. It's because they somehow were very similar to his own life, and they also showed him what might have been, had his twin lived long enough. This is the story of Peter Maximoff, told through the many similarities between the original trilogy and his own life.

*All Star Wars quotes are in italics*

Peter doesn’t like Star Wars

Don’t get him wrong, the movies are great. The first movie had come out when he was 22 years old, and he had found it amazing. He had never seen anything like it before and had sneaked into the movie theater to rewatch it with his twin several times.

‘I need your help, Luke.’

It was almost ironic how his life resembled some parts of the movie. Both he and Wendy had some characteristics of Luke and Leia. He was the goofball, the one who had been recruited to break someone out of an impenetrable prison. Hell, Charles could be Obi-Wan, the old wizard with strange mind control powers (though he didn’t have them at the time), Hank was Chewbacca, the fierce beast who was loyal to his family, and then the claw guy, Logan, was Han Solo. The dark-haired man with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that would shoot you down without hesitation. That made him Luke, the farm boy that was raised isolated, unaware of the true danger. Only difference was that Erik wasn’t Leia, no he was Vader. Wendy was Leia, the fierce, loud mouthed, badass princess that didn’t let anyone boss her around.

They had loved the first movie, but then tragedy struck. His twin’s powers were always unpredictable, always on the verge of lashing out. He had tried to help as much as he could, but just a few months after their 23rd birthday, it was too much for Wendy to bear. She lost control and died, taking half a block with her. Peter did his best to carry on, but their lost connection was all he could feel. The aching emptiness that had always been occupied by his twin sister. It took awhile, but he did eventually go see the second Star Wars. It was... a bittersweet experience to say the least.

Seeing the big bad Vader being related to Luke really did a number on him. All he could think about was the fact that he too was related to a literal terrorist. Someone who had hurt hundred of people and would probably not hesitate to hurt him as well. And then it was revealed that Luke and Leia shared a connection, where they could hear each other and feel each other, and it just overwhelmed him. Minus the kissing (ew, that was gross, why did they even include that?!) Luke and Leia’s relationship reminded him of his and Wendy’s.

That’s why he wasn’t surprised when they were revealed to be twins in the next movie.

Actually, he had been surprised, but more about the fact that his grief took over for a moment. Seeing Leia try to reason with Luke, telling him that nothing good would come out of chasing Vader, their father... that was a conversation that had really happened after their mom told them who exactly was Magneto. Peter had decided to chase Erik down the moment he had resurfaced.

‘I won't fail - I'm not afraid.’

‘Oh, you will be. You will be.’

His mom had warned him about Magneto, how nothing good came out of chasing ghosts, but he had to try. A confrontation with the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Cloud city The mansion was full of people, and the place was exploding. He saved them all (minus one), of course, because that’s what he did. Why be a speedster if you can’t save people from catastrophe?

‘Luke, don't - it's a trap!’

Yeah, it had been a trap, alright. But unlike Luke, he hadn’t had Leia to warn him. So, the carbon freezing chamber knock out gun had worked. That’s how he ended up captured by the government and woke up in a weird green room. The others, he could understand why they were taken, they seemed to know the man holding them, but why him? Peter was of no interest to them. Unless they knew he was related to Magneto and planned to use him as a bargaining chip, but it seemed unlikely.

Then, they were freed and, on their way to confront En Sabah Nur, or as Hank had described him, the blue god. He had told Raven about his relationship with Erik, and she promised him that she would make sure she would tell him.

‘There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you.’

The cold, cold eyes of Magneto were staring at him with something that seemed almost like interest. “And you?”

‘I am your father.’

It was right there, a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter. An opportunity to make Erik realize he wasn’t alone, that he had more family. Perhaps he’d turn back to the light side if he knew. “I’m your-“

But it was Wendy who was the brave one, she was the chosen one. She never would have hesitated. And he wasn’t his sister. “I’m here for my family too.”

It was all sad and tragic because his life was just like that. He could feel Raven’s eyes on him, she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told him, but she couldn’t know about Wendy. It was his own painful secret.

With how similar his life was to Luke’s he wasn’t sure why he was even surprised when he got his hand cut off leg broken. Then, there he was, trying to hold on to consciousness as shock settled into his body.

‘Hear me! Leia!’

Oh, how he wished Wendy were here. She would have destroyed them. Peter would have done anything for his twin to answer, like Leia did with Luke. But she was dead, there was no one to answer him. Just the cobwebs of their broken connection and the burning pain of his leg. He didn’t really care what happened next, he was all too focused on getting his message to his long-lost sister. He didn’t really believe in a higher power, of some all-powerful entity that somehow watched over everyone. He did, however, believe in Wendy, his strong, beautiful, powerful sister.

‘I would have preferred her too’

The blue God’s voice resonated in his head, catching him off guard. No one had ever reached in his mind like that, Wendy only could because of their connection.

‘If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.’

Would his father have tried recruiting Wendy for his brotherhood? Yeah, definitely. She would have been the true last hope. A daughter to be proud about. One with abilities beyond anything anyone had ever seen. One that truly would have saved everyone, hell, she would have prevented the mansion from exploding and never would have been captured in the first place. The blue god looked at him with disdain in his eyes and Peter knew it didn’t mean anything good. He tried to crawl away, but in his current position, that did absolutely nothing.

‘It is pointless to resist, my son.’

En Sabah Nur grabbed him by the hair and tugged, holding him painfully upright and vulnerable. He’d always hated staying still, he was always too full of energy, always eager to chase after the next distraction.

Peter looked up at his father, trying to see if he would do anything, but he saw nothing but indifference. Magneto didn’t care about him. He was an insignificant mutant, a face amongst a thousand others. Soon to be counted amongst the hundred of corpses that Erik had seen in his life.

‘Now, young Skywalker...you will die.’

The god pulled his head back sharply, exposing his throat. “End him.”

One of his horsemen was approaching him with a sharp sword. Peter was slightly thankful that it wasn’t his dad that was chosen to be his executioner. His powers had kicked in, trying to give him an opportunity to escape. But it only made his imminent doom even worse.

Then, he didn’t die, and the hope of seeing his twin again was brushed aside for another near-death situation. As it turned out, Raven was a great person when the son of her friend was in danger.

En Sabah Nur let him go too quickly to focus on the blue mutant. He gasped and writhed as he fell to the ground as electricity pain coursed through his body. The blue god didn’t care about him, he continued calling for Charles, calling for his true target.

‘Father! Help me!’

He should cry out like Luke did, there was no way Magneto would act if he didn’t. Then again, he didn’t have a clue who he was. It was doubtful he remembered him from the Pentagon, it had been nearly 10 years and Erik had had a whole other family since. He was just the nameless idiot that got a big head and tried to take on a god and got defeated like a loser.

In the end, they were all fine, just a little shaken. Erik gave him a weird look, either he pitied him, or he was wondering what he had wanted to tell him. But Peter was on the verge of passing out, there was no way he could hold a conversation at the moment. They came back to the mansion and Peter decided to stay, maybe getting out of his isolation wouldn’t be so bad.

So, even if his life was similar to Star Wars, in its turns and tragedy, it wasn’t even close to how the trilogy ended. The scruffy Han never came back, Obi-wan wasn’t next to a redeemed Anakin (he just left all together) and Leia wasn’t at his side anymore. A happy ending wasn’t something that happened in real life. Everything he wanted resolved wasn’t wrapped neatly into a bow. He still had his loads of daddy issues caused by a father who didn’t know was a father and Wendy, his amazing long gone twin still wasn’t at his side. Peter figured that some good would eventually come to him, it couldn’t be all bad, right?

‘This is our most desperate hour.’

He had faith in that, so, when he was woken up by a burning sensation in his chest, he did his best to understand. The pain was so familiar, it was grief. But not his grief, no, this came from the connection he shared with his twin.

“Wanda?” he called out. Using her real name because she was calling to him. Because she needed him. Because she was somewhere all alone.

“I had a brother, his name was… Pietro.”

It was painful for her to talk about him, so he made sure to let her know through their bond that he was there for her, she just had to reach out. Wanda was confused to feel him, but her scarlet magic soon opened a portal. It might be a trap, there was no way to be certain, but Peter trusted his sister. He took and deep breath and ran into the portal without hesitation. She was alone and she was suffering, it was his job as her twin to help her.

‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’

[sheeswee]

Very long character analysis/headcanons on the kidnap fam + Maglor & Maedhros’ dealings with trauma ahead ^_^

Maglor is more fair tempered and less quick to react than Maedhros, so I feel like the way his trauma would effect him is never talked about... he’s always just “the sane one” but he went through the same stuff as Maedhros (minus some torture and loss of a lover) but he has the same terrible experiences as him and we should talk more about that.

When they adopted (kidnapped) the twins they had just lost their own twin brothers, the last two besides themselves. They were now the only ones left in Fëanor’s line besides Celebrimbor and were completely alone in the world, without allies or hope.

Yes, Maglor didn’t inherit his father’s temperament, but he still murdered, he still fought, he still swore the oath.

I imagine Maglor’s issues are more unpredictable, and that he probably has very intense ups and downs. Most of the time he’s just Maglor. Somewhat serious and practical, but also good with the kids and a bit overprotective and fussy. After all, he was an older brother, too. It wasn’t only Maedhros who looked after and was responsible for the sons of Fëanor.

But sometimes he would break. He would get that look in his eyes and wander off. If you followed you’d hear him rambling, talking to someone not there, or crying, or both.

Sometimes while holding one of the kids in his lap he would go into a trance, playing with their hair for hours, refusing to let them go and not acknowledging a word said to him.

Sometimes they look for Maglor and find him in a trance, eyes fixed on nothing, plucking sharp chords on his harp. They leave his dinner beside him and tell him to eat before it’s cold.

Maedhros is different. Maedhros has days where he is jumpy, and any touch makes him flinch hard, hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing and furious and terrified. Maedhros never appears scared in any situation, not battle nor weather nor sickness... except of an unexpected touch, or a raised hand. He always apologizes profusely, it’s a knee jerk reaction for him.

Sometimes, when he sleeps, which he doesn’t do as often as he should, he murmurs nonsense, twitching and breathing fast, pale as a ghost. Whenever he wakes from a nightmare he is especially jumpy, and often irritable for the day. He does not mean to lash out, and he always says he is sorry, but the words are just noise. He is not himself those days.

Sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor fight. It’s never loud, no yelling or getting physical, but sharp angry words at night when they think the kids are asleep. They try not to make it obvious when they aren’t speaking, but Elrond and Elros learn to read them easily.

But sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor speak so warmly and fondly of people and places in a language long dead, the kids can almost see who they were before. Under scars and lines of weariness and horror unimagined, there were once two young and joyful elven princes, who’s worries were simple of raising brothers, impressing fathers and strengthening alliances with friends rather than enemies.

Despite it all, the kids love them dearly. It’s not always like this, and they’re usually somewhat of a functional kidnap family. They learn to adapt, and become expert empaths after learning all the signs of when someone is having a bad day, or when to be cautious of raising their hand or their voice.

It does not change how they feel towards Maedhros and Maglor in the slightest. To Elros and Elrond, it is just a part of living with them they do not love them despite it, they love them for it. Because it is Maedhros who holds them on cold nights and tells them of valinor, and Maglor who teaches them the stars.

They are a family, in some ways, at least.

...

This is a spin off thought from all that, but I imagine Maedhros at first tries to keep a distance between himself and the kids. He doesn’t want these two innocents to be associated with kinslaying fëanorians. To Maedhros, the best option is to make sure the kids continue to hate and fear him, to maintain the hostage and captor role. That way, when they get returned to someone who can actually raise them, nobody will blame them for being around two notoriously hated and despicable exiles.

This, of course, does not work. Maedhros grows to love the kids immensely, and though he won’t say it aloud, they are the reason he is alive besides the oath. They are the reason why he keeps fighting to lift the curse of his kin. If he can just free himself and Maglor, and protect these kids... because in them, he sees his dead brothers, who he couldn’t save. Who he couldn’t free. Who he couldn’t protect no matter what he did. How many hundreds, thousands of years of war did he fight and sacrifice and amend and break just to keep his family alive, and to no avail? How many times did he play the good guy and destroy his reputation to save his brothers? And every time it was ruined. Every time it ended worse than it began. No amount of time would release him from their oath. It would have to he fulfilled. 

And for a while, they ignored it. He and Maglor turned a blind eye to their binds while raising the kids. They knew the consequences of ignoring it would be severe, but at this point why even try to be the good guys anymore? All that had done was spit in their faces.

After a long while, when the silmarils were recovered and stored away, Maedhros convinced Maglor to go with him and steal them back. To give the kids to someone who would protect them and didn’t have a ticking bomb attached to them, ready to go off at any time.

Maedhros knew now that if they could bear through it a little longer- do this the hard way but get it over with, reclaim the silmarils and lift the curse- they would finally be free. It would be over.

But it wasn’t.

When they stole them, bore them away, and held them at last in their hands it burned their flesh unbearably. They had been deemed evil and unworthy by the Valar. What greater betrayal than to be told by the gods they would be broken to the death unless their oath fulfilled, and then told once fulfilled that in doing so they were no longer saveable?

Everything, every word spoken, battle fought, blade bloodied, brother lost, war waged and step taken, was in vain. Every single action Maedhros had every taken, in hopes of saving his family. In hopes of maybe saving himself, was for nothing.

[lady-plantagenet]

Unsolicited Book Reviews (n5): Wife to theKingmaker

Rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Even before I had an account I had a tendency to go to tumblr to see people’s opinions before buying a histfic novel. Certain books are either severely underrepresented where I feel like there needs to be something on them, whereas others that are talked about enough - something more can still be said. So for my quarantine fun, I had decided to start a series where I review every medieval historical fiction novel I read. Hopefully, it will either start interesting discussions or at least be some help for those browsing its tag when considering purchasing it.

TL;DR: Ok swear to god this book was written by two different people. The ending was actually heart-wrenching, but so much had annoyed me throughout that I swore to myself to never again touch this genre for my own health. Twas an odd tale, and tbh the fact that it was odd probably elevated it from the 2 stars (or hell maybe even 1 if it was going to get any more richardian) to 3. Honestly, quite glad I read it in the end. Not the most historically informative, but some of the character arcs were actually quite neat (however extremely farfetched). Spoiler Warning: I’m going to divulge a lot on here because I know no one who follows me is going to read this book.

Plot: Ok, the plot... It was only after I placed my order that I realised this is the Sandra Heath Wilson of ‘Cicely’s King’ fame. I cringed and didn’t know what to do. For all you innocents out there... her Cicely series is a saga wherein Cecily of York pretty much bangs everyone who is male and from the house of york (minus her father and uncle George) and Even Henry VII(!!). She then has this kid by Richard III, calls him Leo and the rest is history(this is what I gleaned from goodreads). Nevertheless it had already shipped and honestly I had it coming; the synopsis does say she has an affair with her brother-in-law John Marquis of Montagu. Whatever, I couldn’t resist buying the only novel about Anne Beauchamp, and since it was published in the 70s/80s I knew it would at least be flamboyant and go all out. It delivered enough for it to have been worth reading.

So the novel follows Anne Beauchamp!(Nan) from when she is a 13 year old girl to 1478 when she finally leaves Beaulieu to go live at Middleham with her (as you guessed it- favourite) daughter Anne and her oh so belovéd son-in-law Richard Duke of Gloucester - You see? Since now finally the Great Other (Mr George) is finally vanquished England has its peace. Of course this is not true, Nan historically left the abbey in 1473 for Middleham and while I wanted a possible explanation from the author (who I would assume is better researched than I) for whether she went to Middleham out of her own volition or simply because the King trusted Gloucester better than Clarence... alas I got none. It was all pinned on the fact that the evil George (who as per usual alternates between omnipotent mastermind to absolute drunken himbo at the turn of a page) would not have her free for as long as she lived (for whatever reason). I really think the real historical explanation was because Edward trusted Gloucester - because after all Warwick Castle was Nan’s patrimony not Middleham. I doubt Nan had a choice in the matter but, the point is, Isabel was alive in 1473 and since there’s zero historical record or suggestion that Nan and Anne had ever seen her again, it would have been nice to have had a depiction of the conflicted feelings or a final meeting written for the three women. I’ll let it slide I guess, after all, one needs to cut some slack when it comes to books written pre-internet age by non-historians. And unlike Sunne in Splendour, this book does not purport to be completely accurate or a representation of the truth.

Christ some sub-plots were truly unexpected. One that made me groan at first was the whole arc between Nan and her niece Eleanor Butler. In this book she’s her ward (not historically true) and little Eleanor is all sweet and innocent and virtuous and, hell, at one point we get more Nan-Eleanor interaction than even between Nan - her own daughters (particularly Isabel who would have been the right age and a better substitute for Eleanor in their dialogue, but alas, who cares about Isabel right?). Eleanor even is the one to accidentally discover that Margaret of Anjou slept with Edmund Beaufort, siring Edward of Lancaster.

Ok. You’re probably thinking, god how trite eugh the Richardians are at it again, right? Yeah ok the Richardians are at it again, but it turns into something really neat at the end. Essentially, as I said, Nan has an affair with John Neville Marquis of Montagu (long story that I will expand on in characterisation) and she and him come upon Edward and Eleanor (overhearing them nothing more). So Edward and Nan then have this mutually assured destruction between them, because Edward divulges that he saw Nan and John years later when Nan confronts him (by this time he is married to Elizabeth Woodville) that she knows about the pre-contract with the intention of telling him off. He tells her that if she dares tell Warwick about the pre-contract he will tell Warwick about John, so she then agrees (also because she promised her niece that she would keep it quiet for the safety of her son by Edward). Years later when they meet again, Edward realised how much is at stake for Nan (especially since it turned out she loved Warwick all along and Edward figured that out), and so, during the period of John’s back-and-forth loyalties (we know he was disgruntled by the loss of the Northumberland Earldom)... Edward returns and tells Nan that if Montagu abandons him he will out her to Richard and cause a massive division between the brothers (militaristically speaking as well) and he knows he can do that because he figures out Nan will not out him because she blubbs about her promise to her niece. This madness then becomes bittersweet when (as history would have it) Montagu does end up fighting for Warwick, nevertheless, Nan is releaved during the whole time because there’s nothing in Warwick’s letters that give any indication that Edward ended up exposing her. Warwick dies in the battlefield, Nan is deeply aggrieved but happy he never found out at least. But then... years later when Edward comes to Beaulieu (1478 as this story would have it) to inform Nan that she may depart for Middleham, he tells her that he in fact did expose her to Warwick... but that Warwick didn’t believe him and laughed in his face because he thought there was no way she could be unfaithful because he knew she loved him. This sounds silly but it got to me a bit when I read it. Of course, we also have Edward saying he regretted his handling of the pre-contract affair because apparently Elizabeth Woodville had since lost interest in him and he’s hurt by how she shows no reaction to him having mistresses and he’s kinda given up, whereas Eleanor would have been more of a lapdog. This was essentially the centrepiece of the plot.

Look, I don’t really read these types of novels as a habit so I don’t know if bizarre plot lines like this are commonplace. Not going to lie though, it threw me and it was pleasantly enjoyable. This is basically what is to be said about the plot... the rest goes into characterisation. Nevertheless, this novel too often fell into the exposition trap (like telling us what is happening politically instead of showing us). While I appreciated the refresher of what happened 1445-1461 and I understand that the target audience of this book aren’t Wars of the Roses experts, I’ve seen it done more smoothly in many other more literary novels (eg Hawley Jarman’s or Lytton-Bulwer’s Last of the Barons). I’ve often said Sunne in Splendour was terribly dry and exposition-heavy, but at least it had historical detail so I could sometimes switch off and treat it as a non-fiction account for battles and character locations. But with this one I a) don’t have faith that the author paid attention to detail; see what I said earlier about the years 1473-1478, so I won’t take this as information and b) know that if she had done this with the years I know more about: 1461-1478, I would have gotten annoyed because of my familiarity with those decades.

Characterisation: Well we have lovelorn saintly Dickon here - always a pet peeve of mine. Look, I don’t have strong opinions about the man but it just innures me how whenever Richardianism rears it’s ugly head the plot suffers massively and it’s always favourite figures of mine that suffer the most. George Duke of Clarence... oh god, what can I say? Wife-beater, alcoholic, is disgusted by his wife when she is ill (you know, unlike the historical Clarence who had resided in the Abbot’s home near the infirmiary for the last months of his wife’s lying-in and after to be close to her and thereafter stuck with her until she passed away and two months after that as well), is stupid yet somehow still devious, is the indirect cause of her death... the list goes on. Welp, at least this Clarence unlike the Sunne in Splendour one has an elegant bearing, sense of fashion and is a great dancer. The Sunne one had NOTHING. It’s also odd that they make his attitude towards Isabel undergo a complete 180 as soon as he realises this marriage will no longer make him king. This makes no sense as the book has them want to marry for love, like YEARS before 1469, so this sudden attitude change makes no sense. Authors really need to be reminded that crown or no crown that marriage would still have made him the greatest magnate in England. There was also a ridiculous handling on the circumstance of his death, and this was the most factually wrong part of the book. Between Ankarette being aged down by 4 decades and the whole shmaz with Stillington, I don’t know where to begin. I bet most of you can guess how it was handled. Isabel is as per usual constantly depressed and without a personality because, well, we can’t have her compared to our shining heroine Anne Neville. 3x more beautiful, 5x more vivacious and 20x more significant than her doormat of a sister who complains all day- that is when she isn’t crying. Gahhh. Of course Anne Neville also cries but it’s for her beloved Dickon who she pines for constantly. Look, I have no qualms with romanticising this pairing, but authors need to keep in mind that Anne was like 13 at most when she became estranged from Gloucester. You. Need. To. Stop. Writing. Her. Like. A. Woman. . I don’t care what anyone says, no matter the time period, you can’t make me visualise a 13 year old that could feel romantic love of that deep a devotion and maturity and not send me laughing across the floor. But want to write a strong childish infatuation coming from a place of deep friendship? Fine by me.

Ok, onto more positive characterisation points: I liked Nan, quite a lot actually (I mean blatant daughter favouritism aside). A lot of authors attempt to write the proud noblewoman and great lady character but few pull it off. This is always how I have seen the real Anne Beauchamp and I’m glad to see it here. For a novel so insensitive towards certain figures, the author wrote Nan with great empathy. She was very intelligent but not in that artificial girlboss way, she loved her daughter(s) but in that medieval mother type of way (so no baby brain here), she may have not gotten along splendidly with all the women around her but there was none of that demeaning cattiness. About that, I want to say I was shocked by what a turn her relationship with Margaret of Anjou took. Since the whole Somerset-bastard child plotline was a thing... Nan was initially revolted and lost all her respect for Lancaster, but when the two women find themselves joined by fate they gain this strange mutual respect for one another. They butt heads a bit initially but Margaret of Anjou rises above it for her son’s sake and eventually strikes up an agreement with Nan on when they are to set sail. Margaret first won’t listen to Nan because she thinks she’s a fool but when she eventually slips by to tell Nan that she had thought about her plan and that maybe she’s right, she doesn’t apologise and Nan doesn’t need her to and it’s this weird telepathic understanding from then on and I certainly did not expect to see something like this in this novel. After the landing in England and news of Warwick’s death reaches the party, Margaret doesn’t gloat but diplomatically relays the news and when Nan says she wants to take sanctuary because she lost all heart and can’t fight on, Edward of Lancaster gently says something like: well if you come with us, you’ll at least get your revenge and that’s at least something (paraphrase). You could just tell this was Edward’s way of offering condolences, the type of way a child like him raised through war and promises of vengeance only could, and it was oddly powerful. Shame it couldn’t have happened as Nan and Margaret and Isabel all travelled at seperate times. The whole theme around Nan was that she wasn’t very partisan but only followed her husband as a magnate and then as a man, which I believe and it was great to see Team Lancaster understood Warwick was a seperate entity from York, and for all intents and purposes they were all in this together. Cool-headedness is much needed in this genre I realise, god how low flies the bar ~

Now onto the characterisation most people are wondering about. What of Warwick? He was the saving grace of the novel. He has the common touch yet he is sophisticated, he is idealistic yet he is shrewd, he is impassioned yet collected, he is dramatic yet subtle, he is ... I can go on and on. What is all the affair plot point about then? It doesn’t diminish the bond between the two main characters; to tell you quite truthfully the relationship the author wrote was bizarre yet still really touching. They used to hate eachother because Nan thought herself above him (after all the Warwick earldom was far more valuable than the Salisbury one- remember it was briefly a dukedom at one point), but then she sees what he made of himself and becomes proud of him and falls in love with him. However, he starts to get carried away with his ambitions, gets all-consumed by the legend of Warwick that he had cultivated and essentially becomes impersonal without wanting to (and realising). Nan feels she has lost him to the people of England (which are apparently all hypnotised by his presence, which ok is a fact grounded in history) and because of her wounded pride she starts seeking comfort in his brother (although, it makes little sense how this would work as I would gather he would also be away, especially at the Scottish boarders). When he refuses to support Warwick over Edward later on, she loses all feelings for Montagu and thinks him a coward, and when Warwick apologises for being amiss she realises that this whole time it was him she loved all along and is racked with guilt. I found this exploration of what it is like being wed to a man of such public standing quite interesting, the idea of losing him not to another woman or such but to his cause (which in this book is a mixture of belief in the french alliance, the common weal and subconsciously his own wounded pride brought on by an extreme adherence to inflexible chivalric values on his part and Edward IV’s actions), I confess, is not something I saw portrayed in this particular manner anywhere else. I mean it’s not like I’ve been searching for this particular motif, but this was a refreshing depiction of a medieval couple and it was a poignantly written relationship which the author had me invested in. The relationship was heartfelt because it was very distinct, Nan and Warwick weren’t just some stand-ins for a cash-grab but some consideration was paid to the real historical figures. The John plotline, sure I would in principle protest against something like this but it seems to have had two plot purposes: To illustrate the strain caused by the aforementioned issue and to kick off the whole Edward-Eleanor Butler-Montagu-Nan arc, which bizarre and unbelievable as it was, kept me on my toes. I’ll let it slide. Also, Edward IV was portrayed as quite a chilling villain in this, beholden of this weird mix of indifference, charm and wickedness.

Prose: This is what made me briefly wonder if this book was written by two different people. It failed to engage me in the first half, the descriptions were trite (except for the natural scenery bits), there was very little variety in sentence structures which gave it the stilted heaviness that thus afflicted The Sunne in Splendour (and most modern literature). There was a lot of redundancies eg the type of stuff like ‘whispered quietly’ or ‘yelled loudly’ and the author’s misunderstanding of certain period fashions drew me out eg references to bodices (not a thing then), calling the henin veil a silk scarf etc. She didn’t pull a Penman: exposit emotions to us, making me feel like I walked into a therapy session, but it was often heavy-handed. It first felt very much like an uninspired debut novel. A bit try-hard and I was wondering if this was the way of the bodice ripper... I wouldn’t know, I never read one before (though I’m unsure if this qualifies as it’s really not graphic and the focus is really not on sex nor is there much of it).

However, out of nowhere, the prose suddenly changed a little before half of the way in; colours, emotions, thoughts and the like started to blend masterfully. The sentence structures started varying to convey the way Nan was feeling. It became very show don’t tell, and it drew me in emotionally a bit (I must confess). Of course, that’s also around the point the plot had sort of started redeeming itself. Nan’s grief at her husband’s passing was particularly well conveyed - how she became a husk of her former self... I could read fifty pages of that. Her realisation that it had been him all along was also well written, and you could feel all the urgency and regret she felt at all the time she had wasted disregarding him as the plot grew nearer to Barnet. The mutual longing was also subtle yet strong, and it really was down to the effective use of sentence structure and waylaying of inspired thematic details. The mingling of past memories with present day in her later years was also very well done and with flow, and the adjectives etc used were no longer becoming distracting as before. My favourite part by far was the very last scene when she rides ahead of her escort to Middleham and she imagines a horse riding beside her caparisoned with the Neville standard; you can really feel how this is the first time that she had felt joy in years and she lets the ghost follow her.

... In Conclusion, this novel gave me very mixed feelings. I don’t know if I would have enjoyed it as much as I did had it not been for the fact that I entered it with a massive pre-formed love for the figures. It’s a bit like my experience with ‘Death Be Pardoner to Me’ (review #2 on this tag), was the book actually good or do I just have an affinity for the protagonist (Clarence in that case)? As such, I don’t think I would reccomend it. Indeed I wrote this spoilerish review because I was sure no one would fly off to Amazon after seeing this post. I can’t say if it’s above commercial historical romance in standard as this is the first time I’ve ever read a book from this genre. I think I’ll take a loongg break from historical fiction (after I finish with Jarman) because the Clarence portrayal was a bit of a nail in the coffin for me and I don’t want to continue upsetting myself for no reason. As I have now truly lost hope in reading a balanced depiction of him and if the literature isn’t absolutely expemplary why bother? Nevertheless, Warwick’s portrayal was a saving grace and made it impossible for me to give it two stars - it wasn’t perfect but still the best I’ve read (minus Last of the Barons Ofc). This is also a bit sad when you think about it, Warwick is also due some fictional justice. Even scholarly if you ask me.

The experience was educational as I learned a valuable lesson in what to avoid and include in my writing, what pitfalls/clichés not to fall into etc. I think I can draw another valuable lesson from this: Dear Histfic authors, if you happen to not be historians, heavily-researched in this time period, objective or literarily talented etc don’t take yourself seriously by publishing some tome of a work but just go nuts like this novel. At least this way you’re not sharing misinformation, inducing people into error and your work still gets to be engaging as opposed to a repetition of the previous amateur historical novelist. Yeah. For all the Sunne in Splendour’s superior quality, I must say I prefer this one better.

Tagging @pythionice who I have recently discovered has also read this book! Welcome fellow fan of Warwick <3

[thelovelylolly]

Savior (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary : You and Obi-Wan started a secret relationship after your first interaction in your penthouse. You two flew between your planet and Coruscaunt to visit each other. But as the war picks up, you and Obi-Wan start to drift apart until one day everything went downhill. The jedi were killed and so you assumed Obi-Wan was dead, grieving him privately. But when the Empire plans on blowing your planet to shreds, you are sent away. What happens when you crash land on Tatoonie?

Warnings : Very lightly mentioned adult themes, typical star wars violence and (sadly) death, angst (?), and kind of a happy ending

Note : Thank you to @lilbabyhoneypot​ for the story idea! Hopefully this is a good ending! Sorry if this isn’t what you expected.

Your relationship with Obi-Wan was so amazing, but it had to be a secret. At first, it was hard to keep up making excuses to travel to Coruscaunt for your father but once he retired and gave the throne to you, it was easier. Of course, you requested Obi-Wan and his apprentice to attend your coronation. You and Obi-Wan “celebrated” later that evening.

You allowed him to continue to call you ‘princess’ since you were obsessed with him calling you that. Obi-Wan didn’t mind at all. You spent a lot of your time in Coruscant, for Obi and for political reasons, so after a long day, Obi-Wan would walk into your penthouse and collapse onto the couch. He would call you over and you almost always had tea ready to go. It was just a peaceful, quiet relationship.

But all good things must change.

Obi-Wan was always hopping planet to planet, fighting battles with his clone squadron. You sent him short holo-videos of yourself to cheer him up, which he treasured. He sent you videos as well, but they were short and inconsistent. You didn’t mind, but you missed him so much. 

Obi-Wan was currently on Utapau, hopefully defeating General Grevious and getting very very close to ending the war. You were excited because after the war, you could relax a bit. Get a break from all the politics. The only thing that bothered you was when Obi-Wan left. Usually, he would spend the night before with you, doing whatever you wanted. In the morning, you two would eat breakfast together with tea (of course) then he was off on his mission. But this time, he just sent you a message when he was on his was to Utapau. It was eating at you, was he trying to distance himself from you? Did he start to lose feelings?

Standing on your balcony, you took a breath of crisp Coruscant air to try to clear your mind. It was night time, which meant lights were on everywhere. Your eyes were watching speeders zoom by below you when something unusual caught you eye. You shifted your gaze to the jedi temple and saw smoke escaping it. In a panic, you quickly grabbed your red cloak and raced down to your speeder in the garage, speeding off to the temple.

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You parked your speeder on a small dock, getting out to walk into the temple. But you were stopped by clones. “What’s going on? What happened?” You asked.

“The jedi have been declared enemies of the republic, you need to leave, ma’am.” One clone explained. Suddenly, a young padawan jumped over them and started to deflect the blaster shots with his lightsaber. You watched in horror as the padawan got shot in the abdomen multiple times. 

“No!” You exclaimed, crouching down and pulling the dying child into your lap. You watched as life slowly escaped the padawan, his eyes staying open as his took his last breath. You sighed sadly and closed his eyes, laying him down gently. You stood back up. “What have you done?! He was a child! Where are the other padawans?” You yelled.

“General Skywalker took care of them.”

“Anakin....what? No...”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” The clone paused for a moment to aim his blaster at you, along with the others. “It’s time for you to leave.”

You nodded and quickly went back into your speeder, taking off. 

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You had called Bail Organa to your penthouse since he also went to the jedi temple. You sat on your couch, you mind going into dark territory since you thought Obi-Wan was dead. “Bail, we need to get the senate to stop this.” You spoke up.

“No, we need to find any surviving Jedi to see what they want to do. I think the Chancellor ordered this to happen.” Senator Organa replied, sitting down next to you.

“I don’t think any survived.”

“Were you close to any of them? I noticed you always requested Obi-Wan to be your jedi guard.”

“Promise not to tell?” Bail nodded in reply. “Me and Obi-Wan have a secret relationship, but with the clones turning on the jedi, I don’t think he survived. His own apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, killed younglings at the jedi temple.”

It went silent, the only noise being the busy city outside. “Return to your planet, I’ll do what I can here. You need to be there in case someone or something wants to attack.” Bail said, breaking the silent.

You both stood up, embracing each other, then Bail left. You began to pack up your things. Before you left, you wrote a quick note in case Obi-Wan did survive and came looking for you. Then you boarded your usual ship and went home to your planet.

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Years passed and the Empire rose to power. Bail Organa didn’t contact you, but the sith lord Darth Vader did. He forced you to put your planet under imperial rule, which basically meant you were just a puppet for Vader. You were sick of it. 

You laid awake in your large bed at night, moon light slipping in through a window. You stared at your ceiling, your covers feeling cold. You were haunted by things. Obi-Wan being presumed dead, that padawan dying in your arms, watching the temple burn and hearing of the Empire rising. Your bed felt empty without Obi-Wan next to you, but you didn’t know what else you could do except try to move on and serve your planet. You father had passed due to age which left you alone. Alone in a galaxy that seemingly hated you.

The next day, Darth Vader himself decided to visit the planet. Usually, it was a high ranking imperial but this time, Vader wanted to come. You were dressed in one of your usual extravagant dresses, your crowing sitting on your head. You kept your chin up, you weren’t intimidated by a sith lord. “Darth Vader, what brings you to my planet?”

“I came to check in on things, some of my men have heard of protests against the Empire here.” Vader replied.

You crossed your legs and leaned back. “I haven’t heard of such things, I’m sure my people are obedient to me, their ruler.” 

“Must I remind you that the Empire rules this planet.”

“I’m not useless, Vader. It’s my planet, the throne is my birth right, you can’t change that.”

“I suggest you don’t speak like that. I know how you used to act in the senate, Obi-Wan used to support it, didn’t he?”

You shot up from your throne from the name of your old lover. “You shall not speak of Obi-Wan to me. Leave. Now.” You ordered. Darth Vader simply turned around and started to walk out, but stopped to talk to a imperial that was apart of your council on your planet.

“Ready the Death Star. We will destroy the planet tomorrow.” And with that, Lord Vader left. You looked beside you at your advisors, confused.

That night, you met with your council (minus any imperials) to discuss how to avoid people’s death. They decided that you would leave first, then they would start evacuations of everyone else. You were to pack that night then depart at first light. So that’s what you did.

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You and a few other higher ups boarded a ship and were to be flown to a different planet that wasn’t on the Empire’s radar. It was supposed to be a easy and safe trip. Key words : supposed to be.

You were flying over a sandy planet when imperial tie fighters began to shoot at your ship. “We’re going to have to crash land, your majesty!” The captain yelled. 

You were shoved into a safe room while everyone else braced for impact. The safe room was essentially a escape pod in case the ship crashed, which was going to happen. But due to the impact, you blacked out.

When you woke up, you slipped out of the little pod to be met with so much sand and sun. You looked around for anyone else but saw the ship covered in black smoke. You couldn’t bring yourself to go look for anyone, you already lost so much. You didn’t know how long you were out but you decided to start walking. To where, you didn’t know, you just needed to make some sort of progress. You flipped up your brown cloak’s hood and started to walk in the hot sand.

It had to be hours since you started walking and you saw nothing. It was hard to walk since you were in a simple dress. You felt like someone was watching you while you walked by a small group of mountains, but you couldn’t bother to investigate. The heat was overbearing and you felt dehydrated, your steps became slower and you felt like your feet were on fire. You couldn’t keep going so you just let you body take the wheel. Your body hit the sand as your vision blurred. You slowly closed your eyes, accepting the worse.

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You opened your eyes but you weren’t in the desert anymore. You were in a sandy little house, on someone’s bed. Your head hurt, causing you to groan and close your eyes again. You heard someone walk in and over to you. “I brought you something to drink, hopefully it’ll help.” A voice said, helping you sit up and drink a cool liquid, most likely water.

You easily drank the entire cup. “You are lucky you fell where you did, anywhere else you sand people would probably take you. What are you doing out in the desert, princess?”

Princess.

Your eyes shot open and there in front of you was Obi-Wan, well and alive. His hair and beard had grown a little bit with a few bits of white mixed in. His eyes were just as gentle as the last time you saw them. You quickly pulled Obi-Wan in for a hug, which he gladly returned. You two held each tight and close. 

“Obi, I missed you so much. I thought you were dead. Bail Organa didn’t contact me after the jedi temple was burnt down and I left. I-” Obi-Wan cut you off by kissing you. It was sweet and deep and passionate. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, but after a few moments you two had to separate for air.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing on Tatoonie, princess?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The Empire destroyed my planet, or at least planed to. My council decided it was best if me and a few other higher ups escaped. But we were shot down and crashed down here, I was the only one who survived. Why didn’t you contact me?” 

“Because the empire would come looking for me. Padme gave birth to twin’s so be and Senator Organa each took one into hiding from Anakin. I gave his son to the Lars who live not too far away. But Anakin turned to the dark side and was the reason all of this happened.” 

“Wait what? I thought Anakin died. Darth Vader told me that when I asked about him.”

“Oh dear, Anakin became Darth Vader. I- I watched him burn on Mustafar. It scars me to this day.” Obi-Wan sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “I thought- I thought I lost you in the chaos. Bail told me you were sent back to your planet but we didn’t know if you were safe. I’ve been so alone for so long.”

You cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek in your hand. “Obi, I’m so sorry. It looks like I don’t have anywhere else to go, maybe now we could continue our relationship now. I love you so much, I don’t want you to feel alone.” 

Obi-Wan gave you another kiss then a hug. “Thank you.” He said, muffled by him putting his face in the crook of your neck. 

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After that, you and Obi started to a have a peaceful life. You and him were able to openly have a relationship, even though there wasn’t anyone to show off to. Sure, both of you had those nights where you had nightmares or stayed up crying, but you had each other now. Sometimes it would lead to you falling asleep in each others arms, other times it would lead to other things. Even with the empire ruling the galaxy, as long as you had Obi-Wan, you would be fine.

“Hey, Obi?”

“Yes?”

“You do know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I do. I love you, too, princess.”

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Previous chapters: 1  2

Chapter 3

Warnings: nothing, kinda sad, mentios of sexual themes kidna.

A/u:Hey guys i’m kinda back, sorry i left this series alone i just didn’t have much inspiration to wirte for this, and i dind’t want to write something shitty just for the sake of writing, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this new chapter! thanks for following me and the series and i appreciate you caring for my writing. sorry for mistakes, and thanks again!

It’s been a month already since she arrived at Mystic, and it’s been one week since she last saw Dick. The first week went by quickly; Y/n had been so caught up with taking care of the cabin that she didn’t realize how much she had been inside the house. The weather was getting increasingly colder as the days passed, and the colder it got the feeling of loneliness started to creep inside of her. The first few weeks went somehow okay; the nostalgic feeling of being inside the house that held so many memories from her father was ever present in every waking hour, but the more time she kept herself preoccupied, the better she got at handling it. It was the nights that always got to her. 

Y/n was someone who enjoys being alone; she liked to be able to enjoy quiet nights, with a glass of wine and a good movie. She enjoyed being alone, what she didn’t enjoy was the feeling of loneliness. It’s been a few months since she broke up with her former boyfriend, and she was fine with being alone once again, but on quiet nights she missed the warmth of being in someone else’s embrace. And much to her chagrin, her mind took her to the only man that made her feel a resemblance of warmth, since she arrived at Connecticut. 

Dick.

It was strange of her to feel something so soon for something she didn’t really know. Dick was a mystery, that much she knew. It was an understatement to say he was an attractive guy, everyone with eyes could see that, but his eyes held something that drew her in. It was ironic how much of a lifetime movie her life had become since she came to town. Meeting a mysterious man; the random encounters they had around town, but as much as a cliche that was, she liked it. She chuckled, thinking about the few times they’d run into each other during her first month. More often than not, they found themselves standing in the cereal aisle fighting. It was a routine at this point for them. One that both waited to happen sooner than later.

That’s why she realised she hadn’t seen Dick since last week. She went grocery shopping on Tuesday and he wasn’t there,nor any other store for that matter. She hasn’t realized how comfortable she has become with him until he wasn’t there. She wondered, if something happened to him, if he was okay. She didn’t want to stay inside and wallow into her own self pity - she also didn’t want to stay in and think about dick because that might lead to some unholy activities - so she got dressed in some warm clothes, turned on her car and made her way towards the nearest bar. 

The Hood.

The Hood had seen some of the best and the worst nights of Y/n. She was not proud to say that the first time she got drunk, it was there and let’s say it did not end pretty. The moment she set a foot inside the bar, all the memories smack her in the face, some making her cringe at some, and smile fondly. The owner, Slade, a war veteran who had lost an eye in battle was the friendliest bartender you could ever meet. He was quick to shut down any creep that got too handsy with people around the bar, and he was one of the most respected men around town. For y/n, was like an uncle. He and her father were fishing buddies back in the day, and so grew around the man, and knew how much of a softie he was underneath that eye patch. 

“Uncle Slade!” She cheered once he spotted him across the counter. The man’s ears perked up at the familiar voice and when his eyes -eye- found the source a smile made its way into his face. 

“Y/n? Is that you!? My, my you’ve grown kiddo” he said moving around the counter to engulf his niece in a warm hug. 

“Oh, i’ve missed you!” she said, separating herself from the man. “I see you’re doing pretty well” the girl gestured at the almost filled bar. 

“It’s okay,” he said, looking fondly at the girl whom he considered a daughter. “How have you been?” He asked delicately. The girl sighed knowing where the conversation was going; after all they were almost brothers.

“I’m okay, been back here after so many years, it’s been… rough, but I like it. I always did love this town.”

“Wel, I’m glad you’re back. Adelaine is going to be happy to see you again” he said. Adelaine was one of the sweetest woman in town. Being married to someone like Slade wasn’t easy Y/n used to think -still does- but adelaine made it work. They had a son, Jericho, who loved to hang out with Y/n when they were younger.

“Is she here?” She asked excitedly. 

“Not today, she usually helps me on Fridays and Saturdays. But we definitely need to have you over the house one of these now that you’re staying in town” Slade said with a smile.

“I’d love to! I miss you guys a lot.”

“Well, I assume you didn’t come here just to chat, so what can I get you kid?“ 

“House special” she replied with a smirk.

Slade laughed before replying: “one Red Hood coming.”

Red Hood was the drink that gave the bar the name after all –minus the red of course–. It basically consisted of a Jolly rancher which was green apple vodka, some peach schnapps and cranberry juice, with a little orange slice rearranged to make it look like it was covering the top of the glass, you know like a hood. It was Y/n’s favourite drink. 

She sat on a table not too far from the counter and grabbed her phone. She had a few emails regarding work, that she was not going to open today, and a few texts from her sister. She opened the conversation, just when Slade placed the drink on the table. She thanked him, and took a sip from the glass, tasting the fruity drink and snapped a selfie to send to her sister with the caption ‘getting drunk tonight on red hoods. Xo.‘ 

She sighed after drinking some more, remembering all those days she used to come to the same place every other weekend, to drown her sorrows in alcohol and greasy food. It seemed that not much has changed.

“I didn’t peg you for the drinking type” a gruff voice said. Standing in front of her was none other than the man that had plagued her thoughts the past few days. Dick Grayson.

“Fancy seeing you here Dick” she said in a mocking tone. She hid her smile behind the glass checking him out, not too subtlety. That didn’t go unnoticed by Dick. He smirked as he took a seat on the table making the girl raise a brow.

“Don’t remember inviting you to sit down here"  

"I don’t see you objecting about it either” he replied.

“Touche.”

“So, what brings you here Grayson?” She tried to sound nonchalant but her voice was laced with worry? Dick shook those thoughts away, and cleared his throat.

“The alcohol” he replied, making her chuckle.

“Cheers” she lifted her glass in the air, nodding her head at the same time.

They stayed silent for a while. Enjoying each other’s company. The silence was surprisingly not awkward at all. This gave y/n time to really look at him. He looked tired, but handsome as usual. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was a little too long. Y/n that he looked incredibly hot. The shirt under the leather jacket had two buttons opened, leaving his chest a litte exposed, and maybe it’s been too long since the last time she had sex, or maybe Dick was natural just hot, but that little window that show his tanned skin made her feel all sort of things. His Adam apple bobbed up and down whenever he took a sip, and god she needed to get laid now or go home and take care of it on her own. 

Before her imagination got truly wild, Dick spoke:

“Why are you here?" 

The question took her by surprise, not quite understanding why did he ask that.

"What do you mean?” She said, confusion all over her face.

“I mean, why are you here. In Mystic. Is not really people’s first choice for moving in” he said taking a sip from his beer.

“I came here to my dad’s cabin. It’s been a while since I came and I needed to see the state of the house before deciding what to do with it” she replied avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not what I asked." 

"That’s exactly what you asked,” she said, looking down at the empty glass in front of her.

“What’s the real reason?” Dick pressed. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk about it with her, but he was intrigued by her. She was the only person in town that made him want to leave the house so he could casually run into her. Not that he would say that to her,of course.

Y/n sighed, knowing that sooner or later she was going to be confronted by someone about her real reasons, but maybe speaking with someone who doesn’t really know her would save her from the judgment.

“I did come here because of the cabin,but I also needed time to think I guess. To breathe” she began “I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago, and I guess I needed a break from it all,you know? Is not that I’m doing this because of him, but also my mother kept on pressuring me about getting older and finding a husband, and getting married and I just don’t think I want that. Not now at least. And I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and this was a good chance, maybe to start over, to chance, but now I just… don’t know” she said sighing not looking at Dick.

“I came here five years ago, for the exact same reasons as you,” he said,surprising the girl.

“And?" 

"And… nothing changed” he admitted looking down at his now empty beer bottle. “I came here five years ago, wanting to do something about my life and I did nothing. If anything I became more reclusive.”

Y/n knew that even though dick and her were not exactly friends, and did not know each other at all, she thought that maybe he felt the same. Telling the story of your life to a stranger can be comforting in a way; like she said saving yourself from the judgment from your family. She knew that asking dick a question might end in either him answering truthfully or maybe he’d shut himself off even more than before, but since she was kind enough to tell her own story she hoped for Dick to do the same. So she asked:

“Why did you come here?" 

Dick huffed and ran a hand through his long hair. He didn’t like talking about this topic with anyone. Not his family,not his friends, so why was he about to pour his feelings out for some girl he barely knew? He did not know the answer to that yet, but the warm smile on her face, and her kind eyes gave her a weird sensation in his stomach. Maybe he was starved for connection with someone other than his family,maybe he liked her enough to trust her. 

Maybe.

"Before I came here I was supposed to get married with my back then fiancee, Dawn; I was the happiest guy in the world. I had a good family, friends and someone I trusted with my life. But a few days before my birthday I found out she cheated on me with my friend Hank.” He stopped to look at her, waiting for the same look everyone gave him when they heard that story. But her eyes were soft, a sweet, comforting smile was waiting for him, rather than pity. Dick somehow understood the look she was sporting. She understood because she had 

been there herself. Dick sighed loudly, releasing all the tension and stress that he had been carrying for years. Being in her presence was like a breath of fresh air for someone whose head had been surrounded by smoke and each time got harder to breath. 

It wasn’t until she came to the town that Dick allowed himself to breathe the air that the city provided him with.

[simastysims]

SIMASTY Season 1 Episode 3 “Brystle’s Choice”

Originally posted Dec 2018 on simasty.com 

Brystle at last made a friend in the Simmington mansion when she met and bonded with Burke’s estranged son Heathen for the first time. Across town millionaire playboy Seth Dolby arrived back from living the highlife in gambling city Lucky Palms. His amorous rendezvous with DolbyDoh stewardess Minus Manners was interrupted by his uncle Cyril Dolby who convinced him that heiress Fathom Simmington wanted to get back with him. Cyril knows that his nephew has always loved Fathom and his secret plan to get inside information on business rival Burke Simmington’s company is one step closer. WindenburgSimmington lawyer ,and good friend of Burke, Andre Wayward tried to convince Burke to have Brystle sign a prenuptial agreement prior to the wedding but Burke was having known of it. Andre also presented Burke with a dossier on Brystle which Burke refused to read. Andre secretly plans to get Brystle to sign the agreement with or without Burke’s approval. Fathom reunited with her brother Heathen and the siblings reminisced about their lives together and where their long absent mother could be…And on the eve of her wedding Brystle had a meeting with former flame, and current employee of WindenburgSimmington, Mayhew Drysdale. Mayhew declared that he was still in love with her but Brystle could not bring herself to say that she didn’t love him. Now in a state of confusion Brystle must make her choice before her wedding in a few short hours…And now read on for the next exciting chapter….

Burke Simmington was in the west wing drawing room of Siloli, his mansion and family home. Preparations for the wedding were well under way and the staff, led by major-domo Joseph Flanders, were seeing to it that the day would go by without a hitch. Mrs Bummerson was preparing a gargantuan banquet, Nannette Bobbins was organising the flowers and assisting Brystle with her dress. Joseph would be taking care of every other detail and orchestrating the rest of the help at Siloli. Now that the wedding was taken care of, Burke was spending some moments contemplating the mega deal that his company, WindenburgSimmington, had just completed with the government of Shang Simla for the South Simla Sea leases. This contract would allow Burke’s tankers to pass through the waters of Shang Simla but had come at multi-million Simoleon cost. There was a lot hinging on the success of this deal, one wrong move and it could be disastrous for the company…

Burke shuddered at the thought and poured himself a drink. As he was doing that he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching from behind. A scent of  sweet fragrant  men’s cologne filled the air. Burke knew it to be his son, Heathen.

Burke considered this for a moment. He didn’t want to be too hard on the boy. Yes he had made mistakes in the past but he had come here in an effort to reconcile. Burke softened a little and guided his son to the nearest couch.

Heathen sighed, this was not going well. It didn’t take much for his father to get so irate with him. Yes he had written a non too flattering biopic of his father a few years back but Heathen thought Burke would have forgiven, if not forgotten, him for that. It was the fallout from that character assassinating book that had resulted in Heathen departing Siloli mansion and making his own way in San Myshuno city.

A momentary silence passed between father and son before Burke spoke again.

Heathen had always suspected his father did not approve of his attraction to male Sims and this just proved it. O.k. there had been several men in and out of his life whilst living in the city but so what? Heathen was absolutely comfortable with who he was as a fabulous Sim and he would not allow himself to be hurt by his father anymore. Without shouting or getting angry Heathen spoke with gentle authority.

With that Heathen triumphantly left the room. At that moment Burke never felt so proud of his son as he did right now. No longer was he the meek and timid little boy he remembered but a strong, independent and fabulous adult.

Further down the corridor Andre Wayward had been just about to leave when he met Brystle as she arrived home form her meeting with Mayhew in the park. Andre decided to seize his chance about getting Brystle to sign the prenuptial and guided her quickly back into Burke’s study.

The money did not matter to Brystle, Burke surely knew that. So why was he getting his lawyer to force her to sign this prenup? Brystle shrugged her shoulders and signed the first screen. Andre smiled as she did this and he tapped with his well manicured fingernails each screen that came up with lines and lines of legal information. Brystle didn’t care at all. She came into Burke’s life with nothing and if she had to, she would leave with nothing too.

Fifteen minutes later they were done. Brystle gave Andre an icy stare before leaving the study and going upstairs.to her room. This had been one heck of a day.

Before dinner was served Brystle had had a change of clothes and was catching up on some alone time in one of the sitting rooms of Siloli. Her earlier meeting with Mayhew had made her realise that she was having conflicting thoughts about her feelings. She was torn between two men. One was Burke her fiancé and the love of her life. The other was Mayhew, her former lover with thighs that could crush walnuts. She always believed her feelings for Mayhew were through but seeing him again earlier in those tight shorts had gotten her all a quiver.

It was whilst having these salacious thoughts about the part of Mayhew’s body betwixt his hips and knees that Fathom strutted into the room with a smirk on her face. Brystle had been expecting this. Earlier that morning in the hallway Fathom had remarked she would be catching up with Brystle that evening. It looked like this was the time.

Fathom took the couch facing Brystle and regarded her the way a cat would a mouse.

Brystle rolled her eyes and shook her head. Fathom was being impossible as usual.

Fathom could see that Brystle was not going to listen but she continued on anyway. Her devil-may-care attitude gave her the courage in life to say things that she perhaps shouldn’t.

Fathom could see from the look on Brystle’s face that she was right. Andre had approached her to sign a prenup. She decided to move in for the kill…

There it was , murder! This was what Fathom had resorted to, claiming her father had murdered her mother and some of his other girlfriends and Brystle was furious. She knew it to be utter trash, a horror story in a last ditch attempt to frighten her off. Well Brystle was not having it and wasn’t going to hold back from telling Fathom so.

For once Fathom was lost for words. She hadn’t expected Brystle to bite back like that as normally she was too delicate and Fathom believed her to have no back bone. Would she tell her father? Fathom could not tell. Instead she gave a smirk and then left the room.

Brystle sat back and let out a sigh. Fathom was hard work but she felt she had won this battle, if not the war. Somehow she got the feeling that Fathom’s next attack would be stronger. Brystle didn’t have to wait long. Half an hour later as she was getting dressed in her evening attire for dinner Fathom barged into her room without knocking and round two commenced….

Brystle could not believe her ears! Fathom was actually prepared to buy her off. This cheap insult infuriated Brystle and she exploded in anger. Not literally of course but she had few choice words to say to her future step daughter.

By now both women were at boiling point and Fathom took a step forward jabbing her finger at her future step mother.

Brystle raised her hand as she prepared to slap Fathom across the face. She was so incensed with rage now. First she had been bribed to leave and now there were accusations that she was fake. But she took a deep breath and lowered her hand. She could not bring her self to hit Burke’s daughter despite feeling the overwhelming urge to do so. Instead she yelled at Fathom to leave.

Fathom took another step closer and with her face a snarl she hissed in Brystle’s face.

After Fathom left the bedroom, Brystle was overcome with emotion. She quickly crumpled into tears. Her sobbing filled the room and her crystal tears fell heavily to the floor.

A weary Mayhew Drysdale shut down his computer for the night and stretched his arms above his head. He had returned from his early evening rendezvous with Brystle and continued with some reports he had to write up in his role as business executive at WindenburgSimmington. Recently he had earned a huge promotion at the company, bypassing several rungs of the career ladder. Mayhew, whilst being a conscientious worker, found it incredible he had been promoted to such a high level.  But with the promotion came a tonne of more work leaving Mayhew exhausted most nights.

He left his study and checked in his sleeping daughter Mimsy. Mayhew smiled as he tucked her in for the night. She meant the world to him.

Mayhew quietly left the room and went through to the kitchen. It was late but he still felt the need for a coffee. As he was brewing it his mother, who had recently decided to move in with her son, joined him in the kitchen.

Mother Drysdale, as she liked to be called, was very protective of both her son and grand-daughter. That level of protectiveness however did not extend to her daughter-in-law. She felt Malaudia to be the wrong match for Mayhew from the very start of the marriage. Years later and after Malaudia’s multiple stays in a simitarium Mother Drysdale felt she had been right all along. The fatigue etched on her son’s face confirmed this.

Mayhew sat beside his mother at the kitchen island and sighed.

Mother Drysdale could see her son was no longer happy or in love with Malaudia. It was time to make her feelings known about the woman.

Mayhew pondered on this for a moment. Whilst he would never leave Malaudia to rot in the simitarium there was no denying that he no longer was in love with his wife. But what to do about it?

Mayhew bid his mother goodnight and went off to bed leaving the elder Sim alone with her wicked thoughts…

Burke, Brystle, Fathom and Heathen had gathered for dinner in the grand dining room of Siloli mansion. Both the Simmington siblings were in good form with Heathen laughing and joking while his sister had a mischievous glint in her eye. Brystle looked like her mind was elsewhere. Burke was happy to see everyone seated around the table for the first time.

Heathen sensed that Fathom was itching to pick on Brystle so he quickly moved to diplomatically ease the situation.

Fathom continued smirking and Heathen knew his sister was far from done. 

Burke could see his wife-to-be was visibly uncomfortable and therefore decided to reign his daughter in.  

Just then Joseph Flanders, the major-domo of Siloli, entered the dining-room and made his way over to Burke.

Joseph nodded and went to pour some of the finest nectar a Sim could by. As he passed Brystle, and being a snobby Sim, he couldn’t let an opportunity go by to subtlety test her lack of knowledge of the finer things in life.

Fathom was far from subtle though.

As Brystle made her exit Fathom seemed to delight in it.

And at this point Burke slammed his fist onto the table.

Burke got up and went after Brystle. Fathom merely shrugged her shoulders. Heathen couldn’t help but notice a sly smirk from Joseph to Fathom and he made a note of this. Outside Brystle hurried along the corridor as Burke came after her.

Brystle decided to be honest with Burke about her thoughts on Fathom.

But right now she was having serious doubts….

And so late that night as the household fell quiet, Brystle was alone in her bedroom. Burke was sleeping in a separate room as it was only proper to do so the night before the wedding. Brystle was about to go to bed when her phone rang. She recognised the number thought it wasn’t saved on her phone. It was Mayhew. She was in two minds as to whether to answer it or not but there was a voice inside her telling her she needed to hear Mayhew’s voice again. She pressed accept on the phone. At first the there was a bunch of static white noise coming through before a clicking noise and then at last she heard his voice.

It felt such a huge relief to finally admit that to Mayhew and the pair continued talking.

Unbeknownst to Brystle, there was a reason for the static noise and clicking she heard when she answered her phone. That reason was because there was someone listening in on her conversation from another room in the house…

[perpetuitys]

AAAA hello everyone i’m peep and this is my independent n impulsive vampire bb michel !! also sorry for being Mad late i’ve been moving/flying for the past couple days but i’m finally settled in and super super excited to rp with you all :~) but Yes this is michel he has an attachment to the sea ...... he’s curious abt everything ..... can be very sarcastic at times .... and more found below !! also def hit me up to plot on discord <3 @uwfmintro​

STATISTICS  

FULL NAME:  michel de la rue NICKNAME(S): michel’s fine AGE:  twenty-five GENDER + PRONOUNS:  cis male + he/him ORIENTATION:  bisexual ZODIAC:  sagittarius sun, libra moon BIRTHDAY: december 3rd, 1802 PLACE OF BIRTH: paris, france OCCUPATION(S):  bartender, helps with the liberation TRAITS: (+) open-minded, honest, adventurous, curious, independent  / (-) turbulent, careless, irresponsible, impulsive, dogmatic

BIOGRAPHY

the following biography page contains the following: death, grief, suicidal ideation.

read at your own risk.  

HUMAN

it was eleven years later and new york was just starting to feel like his home. michel still hated speaking english and the permanent odor was sort of annoying, but he felt like he had a purpose that wasn’t dependent on war. fatigued by the aftermath of the french revolution and disappointed in the end of napoleon’s reign, the de la rue’s left their mother country when michel was fourteen in hopes of creating something new and fresh, devoid of any monarchial rule. his family lived a fairly simple life that was dedicated to running their bakery in brooklyn.

this simple life began to feel quite exhilarating as he found himself falling more and more in love with a newly-immigrated family friend at twenty. ever since meeting colette lyon (which of course was at the bakery — where else) he couldn’t think of anything else. the two remained inseparable into their marriage, too, where the two decided to momentarily elope to the beach despite his parents’ wishes. both colette and michel had a fascination with the sea, perhaps symbolizing the voyage that connected their childhood with their newfound adulthood. this fixation grew as he decided to leave his  family in favor of becoming a fisherman running his own shop at the local fish market (also against his parents’ wishes). and as their family grew to include two children, he believes it truly was the best financial decision he’s ever made (which he was well-aware there weren’t many).

but honestly, michel’s favorite thing about new york had to be the selection of taverns. the routine of waking up early, going out to fish, spending his entire day trying to sell his catches at the market, and coming home to two rowdy toddlers proved to exhaust the brunette both physically and emotionally by the time he was twenty-four. so, it wasn’t a surprise to often see him spending most of his evenings during the week at the local bar, making several short-term friends who also wanted to make the most of their night. however one night felt different as michel became what was most likely the most intoxicated he has ever been with a room with equally intoxicated men who decided that receiving fists hurt good and fighting felt fun. he was too drunk to process the chilled air (perhaps that hurt good, too), but something felt wrong as the men continued beating on him. leaving him bleeding out in the early winter air, it very quickly dawned on him that there would be no more life for him to live. no more colette. or his family and their quaint bakery. never see his children get married. as he made peace with this reality, in his last moments he thought about the sea.

VAMPIRE

everything felt bright and intense as he gasped his first breath of immortality. focusing his attention on how fast his senses were heightening and the excruciating bloodlust, it took a moment for him to realize his bougie surroundings. confused, capricious, and super fucking hungry, aleksander was there to guide him into this new underground world.

which honestly terrified the fuck out of michel. as his senses began to settle, his heart sank to his feet thinking about his death — the stupidity, carelessness and impulsivity causing an eternal separation to the life he worked hard to achieve. he grew depressed and the intense bloodlust that he wasn’t able to get a grasp on wasn’t doing much to uplift him. he depended on the older vampire emotionally as transitioning into a life completely vacant of his family was very challenging as he witnessed the rest of their lives at a distance. this often resulted in michel coming to him, very depressed as he questioned his vampirism, with aleksander always finding a way to lift his spirits and remind him of his purpose. because he saw it in michel that night before he died at the tavern. he saw the charm and how he could make anyone in the room feel like his best friend. he knew that once this cloudiness of despair and self-loathing blows over that a magnetic charisma would lie underneath. something he can use.

so, aleksander stayed beside him. reassured him. and ultimately invited him into his home to live as he would adopt him as a son, passing down his millennia of knowledge on to him and sowing seeds that he hoped to one day reap. luckily, the stages of grief passed away quickly throughout the coming months as michel realized the potential in this unfortunate situation. firstly, he has never seen so much opulence in his life. he heard stories of it, though mostly negative ones as they were all passed down from the french revolution, but now this was able to be his reality. and he was pretty fond of his newfound speed and strength. now at least it was guaranteed he wouldn’t die from another drunken bar fight.

but as he was increasingly noticing the positives of living in the mansion, the negatives began to bother him. or as others call them: helena. you see, with his human siblings, he didn’t have the problem of trust as they all grew up together and shared blood. but it wasn’t long after moving in that michel realized just how necessary the blood relation would be and how significant the corvinus name is in their world. and perhaps another large part of the problem was they didn’t truly see him as a sibling at all. truthfully, the condescension stung at the beginning and resulted in michel spending most days keeping to himself and reading the literature that occupied the walls.

as decades passed and michel was sure colette and the kids had most likely passed too, he found himself integrating back into human society by the end of the nineteenth century. which he surprisingly felt more relieved than disheartened by, as he’d finally be able to get more separation from his older sibling, but perhaps it could also be one of the signs of vampire cynicism creeping in. because, oh boy, did it creep in. the first couple decades of the twentieth century were probably most notably some of the sloppiest years michel had. he began transitioning from blood bags (the mansion always had them on deck) to feeding directly from humans and while he knew never to bite the neck, he felt it hard to resist biting elsewhere. and found it hard to resist in general, often accidentally killing a few people in the process.

however, once magdelena was born, he found himself becoming interested in the family again and decided to clean up his careless feeding act. as she grew older, he became quite fond of her presence and protective, because she sort of reminded him of his own son and daughter who he had left behind. in a way, it felt very cathartic to (practically) raise her; like he was writing a wrong and filling the void that the act of no longer being a father created. being there for her and caring for her gave him a purpose that he lacked up until that point (which probably explains his tendency to overfeed). he came around the house more, helping her as she developed into her vampirism and taught her all the things aleksander had taught him. minus the shitty values. when he would pop back into society, he spent it educating himself on new ideas and theories that inhabited both human and supernatural spheres, mostly out of curiosity and his love for learning if anything. during this time, he also eventually met others of his vampire kind as well as lycans, though more clandestine. many of which soon became his closest friends.

and that’s why he was fairly devastated to know about aleksander’s plans. his stomach twisted knowing that someone who once raised him could be capable of such cruelty. it sickened him — and he let him know it. which, in turn, earned him expulsion from his home of two centuries. maybe some saw it coming — how michel was often distanced from the start — but it still hurt the vampire nonetheless. he lost connection to his first family and it hurt like a bitch to lose it to another, regardless how he felt about them individually. especially to leave behind magdelena, who he felt attached to since her childhood. but he hoped that this would send a statement throughout their underground world. that they should not turn their eyes away from injustices no matter who it’s coming from. he needed to get the vampires to care about this issue and needed to do something to bring awareness and a call to action. so, in comparison, present-day michel is much less gloomy and blindly naive than early-day michel, luckily. although he still feels guilty and a tinge of regret for his association to aleksander, he finds that offering any resources he can in the fight for the liberation is his best way of coping with it.

[maaaddiexo]

Chapter Eleven | Peter Pevensie

[Red Series Book Two: Ribbons]

Rosemary returned to England to find things just how she left them - her father and brother missing and her mother drinking in her bedroom. But Rosemary wasn't going to give up this time. She took charge of her family as the Pevensies took charge of a country. 

But it's been a year since all five of them returned to England, and when they are called back by Susan's magic horn, they return to a completely different Narnia. Magic has been dormant for centuries and men now rule Narnia but with brute force and terror. 

The Pevensies know why they've been called back to Narnia but Rosemary is once again left in the dark. And with Aslan making himself sparse, the five kids are left to their own devices to answer their own questions.

Do they trust the exiled prince? Can they save Narnia again, and this time without Aslan swooping in to save them? And in Rosemary's case, why was she called back?

[Chapter Twelve] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Rosemary found Peter sitting with Lucy in the chamber in front of Aslan. She could see the tops of their heads over the edge of the Stone Table.

"You're lucky, you know." Peter's voice was soft. Reminiscent.

"What do you mean?"

"To have seen him," Peter looked at Lucy and then at the carving. "I wish he'd just given me some sort of proof."

"Maybe we're the ones who need to prove ourselves to him."

Peter sighed heavily and tilted his head back against the Stone Table. "I just always thought he'd have our backs."

Feeling like she'd intruded long enough, Rosemary stepped forward and made herself known. "Hey, Lucy? Could I have a minute with Peter?" Once Lucy had turned the corner at the top of the chamber, Rosemary sat down next to Peter and pressed her lips to his cheek, lips lingering on skin. "Talk to me Peter. Tell me what's going on inside that head of yours."

"Caspian was right. They're dead because of me. The gate fell and trapped them in there and I watched them die. It's my fault."

Was this what Rosemary hadn't seen when she left the Pevensies and Narnia behind? The guilt and grief he felt was immense. "Did you take their lives?"

"Might as well have. I put them in that situation."

"But you didn't take their lives, Peter. And they agreed to the plan. When you proposed the idea, I saw Glenstorm look at Caspian, who was begging him to say no. To take his side. But Glenstorm chose your plan. He chose you. Please don't blame yourself."

Peter looked down at the small book in his lap, worn with time. He couldn't promise Rosemary that he wouldn't blame himself. "This was in my chest when we were at Cair Paravel. After every battle, I would write down the names of every Narnian who died, soldier or civilian. I don't want to forget them. They laid down their lives for me and put their trust in me. I may not have been able to save them but I can keep their legacies alive."

Rosemary had never admired Peter more. He cared so much. About everything and everyone that ever crossed his path. She was sure that some part of him cared about Caspian too. She remembered Susan telling her about his temper. Did his temper come from his caring nature? There were so many things about Peter that were a mystery and she wanted to know every single thing.

"It's like you said, Peter. We can't change the past. But we can learn from it. You care so much and there's nothing wrong with it, but please don't get lost in the guilt you feel. Don't shut me out."

"It's just...there's so much guilt," Peter admitted, his voice cracking. "I don't know if I'm meant to be King again."

"You doubted yourself once before and ruled for fifteen magnificent years." Peter rolled his eyes at the joke but his lips quirked up just enough for Rosemary to notice. "Why would things be different this time around?"

"Caspian." Peter looked down at his lap, embarrassed. "For the past year all I've wanted was to come back to Narnia. And now I'm here and it's nothing like I expected. I thought things would be just like we left them. But everything is different - not just Narnia. I'm different too. What if...what if Narnia doesn't need us anymore?"

"Oh Peter," Rosemary stroked Peter's hair. "Narnia will always need you, but maybe you no longer need Narnia. You're right - you are different and in the best of ways. You've become such an amazing person. And you don't need a crown to be amazing. You've proven that over and over again."

"Minus last night's embarrassment. Maybe Caspian will be better than I was."

"I don't doubt Caspian's ability to rule. He'll make a great king one day, but he still has so much to learn. Remember you've got fifteen years on Caspian. Teach him what you know."

"How?"

"You'll get the opportunity soon enough," Edmund came around the Stone Table. "You need to see this." They raced through the tunnels and up to a higher level to a balcony of sorts where they could see the treeline and the army emerging from it.  Caspian, Lucy, and Glenstorm were already there, and everybody else was gathering on the ground.

"That's more than Miraz's men," Caspian spoke nervously. "He must have asked for assistance from the other towns and cities."

"When I went, there were already around five thousand men. That's plenty to overpower us. Why ask for more?"

"Because he wants to squash us like a bug," Caspian growled. "He thought they'd eradicated Narnians long ago and now he has to deal with the embarrassment of failing. He's making a show of defeating us."

"He won't get the chance," Peter stated. "If he calls in reinforcements, then so do we."

•

"Cakes and kettledrums. That's your next big plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest? Alone?"

Peter peered at Trumpkin over a large slab of stone. Back in the How, they were in what had been deemed, 'The War Room'. "It's our only chance."

"And she won't be alone," Susan stepped forward.

Trumpkin was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. "Haven't enough of us died already?"

"Nikabrik was my friend too," Badger spoke softly. "But he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn't, and neither have I."

"Hope worked last time," Rosemary smiled, bumping Peter's shoulder with hers.

"We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back."

Caspian cleared his throat from the corner of the room. He'd been invited but he didn't feel like he belonged. "If I may?" Peter nodded. "Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer, but as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one that may buy us some time."

•

Rosemary watched as Edmund and two Narnians made their way across the field and into enemy territory. "I don't like this."

"Of course you don't," Peter smiled. "But you know it has to be done."

Rosemary nodded with pursed lips. "It's smart. Miraz has no idea who he's up against. They don't know our true numbers or your skill."

"He'll be lulled by a false sense of security and then- WHAM! Peter Pevensie for the win. The crowds will be cheering!"

"And then we'll go to war." Rosemary looked over at Peter, the sun shining, making his blonde hair look like sand and his eyes like the ocean. "You know they won't surrender."

"Caspian assured me of that. But as long as it buys us some time, then that's all we need."

Rosemary looked out to the field and could see Edmund disappear into the trees. "As long as it doesn't get you killed in the process.

•

I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field. The fight shall be to the death. The Reward shall be total surrender."

[Chapter Twelve] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

[percyscourt]

percy jackson godly parent swap

(those who aren't mentioned in a different cabin stay the same)

PERCY:

son of aphrodite

sally jackson falling for aphrodite in a male form, skin tan and hair jet black, with eyes everchanging between gold, blue and green. sally confused when aphrodite visited her in her usual female form, but realized she loved her just the same

percy asking his mom about his dad, who his mom calls "the most beautiful person she'd ever met"

percy growing up and using charmspeak without even realizing it; "Nancy, just shut up." and Nancy immediately shutting her mouth close, as if she was a robot of some kind. percy brushing this off as the fact that nancy just didn't want to get in trouble

grover and his mom telling percy that they didn't really know who his dad was, but grover had suspicions based on the aura he radiates

his fight with the minotaur still staying the same, except at one point he had to will himself to get up using charmspeak

aphrodite's symbol popped above his head as soon as he was conscious after his fight with the minotaur and percy was sure it was a mistake; how could the goddess of beauty be his father? it wasn't even the fact that she was a god!dess!, it was the fact that percy didn't really see him good enough to be an aphrodite kid, not handsome or stylish enough

percy's siblings annoyed by how little he cares about his looks at first, then helping him find his right style- which they describe as new york skater junkie

aphrodite constantly sending him gifts; letters with love advice, new clothes, all that. and percy secretly reading the love letters but throwing away everything else. (hey he's a confused teenage boy, can you blame him?)

aphrodite constantly voicing her approval of annabeth, and begging percy to just ask her out

percy being absolutely crushed about silena, whom he was closest with, and him and clarisse shutting down anybody who called her a traitor or the enemy

percy being the cabin counselor due to a note silena left behind, just in case, and him stopping all of drew's dumb ideas (the ugly shoes, which were actually percy's shoes he showed up to camp with)

percy arriving at camp jupiter after training at the wolf house and fighting off the gorgons with hazel and frank, only to have people look down at him for being a son of aphrodite

percy trying to impress everybody so much, always trying to show he's so much more than such a pretty face

percy always trying to show everybody he is strong, smart, and a valid addition to the prophecy

percy and his mom fighting against gaea, and them kicking ass at it too

percy learning that being an aphrodite demigod is about loving yourself and caring for yourself, and how that doesn't make you weak, but rather stronger.

ANNABETH:

daughter of ares

annabeth meeting thalia and luke, being quick in words and with her knife, nearly cutting luke's throat

them traveling to camp and annabeth having the natural battle instinct, dodging and slicing at monsters with uncertainty, yes, but also with a little ease and reflex

annabeth being claimed her first night at the dining pavilion, going to sit down with only about six campers, all glaring daggers at her. annabeth not feeling intimidated, but weirdly at home. more peaceful here than at her dad's, anyway.

annabeth and luke swordfighting, and annbeth slowly yet surely becoming one of the camp's best, though she prefers daggers any day.

annabeth getting named camp counselor despite being eleven, because of her seniority in years of being there

her first act as counselor is to redo the exterior of the cabin, because honestly, it's horrendous. she still keeps the theme of war and everything, just minus the bloody boar, because annabeth gets creeped out by it's following eyes

her second action is stopping the "camp initiation" of dunking kids' heads in toilet bowls

annabeth's battle strategies being the best of camp, and her cabin and the athena one always going head to head in capture the flag.

her being one of her dad's favorites and always trying to please him, always pushing herself to be the best

her fatal flaw still being hubris, and she wants to tear down this world for a new one

her having the strongest Odikinesis at camp. her walking into a room and suddenly people remember that thing their friend did to them months ago, then everybody's fighting

annabeth getting the blessing of ares, and oh my her muscles. she's so fit and muscular and built even before the blessing, but after it's like just. wow. percy gets a lot of shit from it "wow you're girlfriend is more jacked than you" but percy thinks she looks great.

annabeth becoming so lost and distraught after percy goes missing that any time somebody mentions him, her grey eyes go black, and an aura of fear falls over that person. of course, annabeth hates that.

annabeth proving to people that ares demigods aren't just dumb, hot-headed jocks, but also smart, strategic heroes.

JASON:

son of invidia/nemesis

jason arriving at camp jupiter as the first and only invidia demigod, determined to join the fifth cohort and turn it around, to avenge those in the cohort who were mistreated and to bring honor back to their name

reyna choosing him as a leader because 1) his strong sense of justice 2) his refusal to let anyone bully other people of a lower ranking 3) while also giving out fair punishments

reyna, along with having her two dogs in her meetings, but also jason as he can sense when people are lookin for revenge/trouble

him getting his memory wiped, waking up in the bus, feeling a strong sense of missing, something he needed to do

seeing that guy hit on and flirt with piper, and jason hating it. he didn't know much- but he knew that he hated people that thought they were everything, people with big egos

jason and his friends getting picked up by this butch guy and annabeth girl, and jason noticing that annabeth was radiating this very vengeful aura. he was so intimidated he almost didn't get on the pegasus, but he didn't think he'd be better off here

jason arriving at camp and getting claimed almost immediately, a glowing scale hovering over his head.

jason walking into the cabin, on one wall seeing a picture of who must be his sister thalia with annabeth and another dude, and on another seeing a bunkbed pushed against the wall. with somebody on the bottom bunk.

jason meeting damien white, his half-brother, and learning about ethan nakamura. at first, jason was completely appalled by how traitorous his brother had been. then, hearing more about ethan and becoming sad, wishing to have met him.

jason even more sad learning that his brother didn't get a cabin while he was alive, and jason vowing to make it up to him by making sure all the gods' kids got their own cabins

jason and the seven fighting against gaea, and jason almost passing out by all the energy people were putting out. wirh every swipe of somebody's sword, it was as if they were basically yelling, "you! this is what you deserve!" and while jason did not see his mother at the fight, he felt her presence near him, giving him extra power

jason dying, begging piper to fulfill his promise of building the minor cabins, because all jason wanted was to keep his promise.

PIPER:

daughter of hermes

tristan mclean falling for hermes in female form, running into her on the beach. like, actually running. tristan running away from the waves after an early morning surf, and hermes literally going for a run on the beach

hermes and tristan going on dates, spending time with each other 24/7, hermes getting pregnant. then hermes leaving, days after piper had been born, unable to tell tristan the truth about gods.

piper growing up wondering how her mom could flake, and how her dad could still be so in love?? with somebody seemingly so normal?? he was tristan mclean after all.

piper growing up, being able to influence people very easily with her persuasive words alone. and when that didn't work, her talent of stealing and lock-picking came in handy

piper finding out about how all her memories with jason were a trick of the mist and her immediate reaction being to hate the gods, and to hate her mother, whoever she was, because why would she let them do that?

piper arriving at camp, nobody sure where to place her. piper walking into the hermes' cabin, instantly feeling at home. but hermes couldn't be her mother. piper was sure.

piper being claimed in front of the whole camp at the campfire, hermes himself showing up to deliever her a special package equipped with top of the line tennis shoes, a winter jacket, and a demand request for her to be apart of the new quest

piper being insanely annoyed with hermes and how he just waltzed back into her life. and how it seemed like he could read right through her

piper hearing about luke and understanding how he could feel hatred towards their dad (or in piper's case, mother), then immediately feeling horrible for feeling this after meeting the stoll brothers

who by the way, became super protective over piper as soon as they met, and who also told her of their prank rivalry with katie gardner in hopes of her joining them. and she did. of course.

piper growing to sort of like hermes, whoch made her feel horrible about betraying the gods in order to get her dad back. piper telling hermes before her friends, to let him know she wasn't a traitor. piper afraid of hermes grouping her with luke. hermes forgiving her, and recognizing her as the hero she is

hermes and piper fighting side by side against the giants, working together as if it was routine

piper beginning to understand how her dad fell for hermes

LEO:

son of athena

athena falling for all of esperanza: her brains as much as her beauty, her strength as much as her character

leo being born with all of esperanza's exterior; curly hair, dark freckles, long legs, and naturally tan/ethnic skin. this making athena love him one hundred times more, seeing him embody the woman she fell in love with, knowing he was going to be unique. knowing he was going to be that much special when he grew up

leo never forgetting anything, especially not years of torment from tia callida. and especially not his mother's death, how everybody blamed him, the words of gaea, everything. wishing he could forget everything, but having a perfect memory. of everything.

this keeping him up all night through every foster home, forcing him to run from each one, guilt dragging him down every step

leo being top of the class at every school he goes to, without even trying. even with his reading dyslexia. leo carrying these grades to the wilderness school, with all the troubled kids who don't care about their grades, just for everyone to bully ask him to tutor them

leo finding out about his friendship with jason being a trick of the mist, and beating himself up about it. constantly. how could he not see it? how could he, the top of every class, the school's pride and jewel, be that dumb?

leo getting claimed as soon as they landed, and being assigned will to give him a tour. leo arriving at the cabin, immediately feeling out of place in the sea of blonde hair and gray eyes

his half-siblings more or less annoyed with his jokes, but nontheless giving him a chance, and them forgetting how they even got along in life without him

him becoming the backbone of the cabin and, soon enough, getting named camp counselor by malcolm pace, who, quickly became one of leo's bestfriends

leo and malcolm making fun of all the couples, and malcolm spilling about the time he accidentally walked in on percy and annabeth hugging, and it quickly becoming one of leo's favorite stories- which he uses to make fun of both parties

leo arriving on ogyia, calculating ways and distances he'd have to travel to get off the island as soon as he landed. thinking the island was something he could solve, and getting extremely annoyed when calypso pointed out it was just magic

leo flying above his mother during the giant war on his invention, festus, which he built with the help of the hephaestus cabin, throwing off his calculated and mathematically composed weapons.

leo waking up after taking the Physician's Cure, finally able to sort of appreciate magic over logic. sort of.

HAZEL:

daughter of hekate/hecate

marie falling in love with the mystery and magic of hekate, and hekate falling in love with marie for the magic she saw in her

hekate granting marie's wish but warning her of its trouble and refusing to stick around long enough to see her and hazel hurt

marie's wish turning into hazel's curse, hazel touching jewels and treasures and them instantly becoming tainted with unfortunes of marie's selfishness

hazel growing up with things happening to her: her wishing something and it coming true, but marie telling her it was just marie's power of fortune telling and whatnot

hazel's eyes and lips trained to read and speak roman, as most of hekate's enchanments are spoken in roman

hazel's little white lies turning into a mist trick, if she lied and said she had an apple, right after marie saw that apple. it was little things, but not too little to go unnoticeable by marie

marie moving hazel to alaska despite hekate's pleads, and hazel feeling as if some part of her was dialed down, as if moving to alaska had diminished this "light" of hers that her mother loved

gaea choosing hazel to manipulate because of her powerful aura

hazel using her Umbrakinesis to shroud gaea in darkness, then caving the world in around her, taking hazel down with her

hazel and marie getting to the underworld and hazel trying to hold on to her life as much as possible, who knows how much time passing, then being tapped on the shoulder by this scrawny boy

this boy, nico, claiming to be hazel's half-sibling, here to bring her back from the open doors of death, with a tip from their mother

hazel arriving at camp jupiter, the first daughter of hekate, hazel being able to manipulate mist and the shadows, even learning how to shadow travel through nico

basically hazel being a badass all throughout the war alongside nico and their mom

hazel's friends helping her realize that her powers are not a curse, but a blessing that she can use to help others.

FRANK:

son of apollo

apollo meeting emily zhang during war, where lots of his kids were

emily thinking he was an egotistical airhead, yet falling for him all the same. emily falling for his never wavering bravery and risk-taking, and apollo falling for emily's safeness yet strength.

frank growing up wondering how anybody could leave his mom, his great mom. frank growing up not missing his dad. frank growing up hoping his dad was at least a good person, and if he wasn't that he didn't pass that on to frank.

frank being a horrible singer, stumbling over his words, yet still being able to heal with his voice, strength pouring from his words to people's ears, telling them to keep going, you got this. like this warm ball of light and comfort was radiating off of him

apollo visiting frank after his mother's death, in the form of a demigod, giving frank his second bow and arrow

frank getting claimed two days after arriving at camp. frank at first sort of hating his dad, this self-absorbed, annoying dude.

people giving him one glance, unable to believe he was a son of apollo. despite his archery skills, he was shy, in the worst cohort, and had none of that "pizzazz." people usually laughed in his face.

frank being ashamed to be in the fifth cobort, when his father was so used to being in the spotlight, so used to being loved and adored, frank being so scared that his father might think he was less

frank getting a blessing from apollo, making him tall with movie star good looks and seemingly glowing skin. frank begging him to dial it down a bit. apollo demanding his son go on the quest, or else

frank's dad constantly popping in during the quest in forms of some homeless man or another, which frank strangely appreciated

frank growing to like him, as he went through the quest, seeing why his mother liked him. seeing a little of himself in apollo, even

frank having the perfect shot, with anything. frank being able to sense the perfect places to put arrows into monsters' chests, being able to sense which place would kill them the fastest

frank meeting will and the apollo cabin, who, unlike camp jupiter, immediately accepted frank and made him feel at home. who never doubted for a second frank's worth, shy, chubby kid or not

apollo constantly voicing how special frank is, how proud he is that frank can be such a geniune hero without all the bravado that apollo himself used.

REYNA:

daughter of pluto

reyna's dad, Julian Ramírez-Arellano, falling for pluto as a pale woman, jet black hair with purple-ish eyes. reyna's dad coming back from war, scarred, becoming more scarred by learning who pluto really was after reyna had been born, and being disgusted by himself and pluto.

julian shoving this disgust on his daughters, screaming, yelling. julian never being the same afterwards. julian always thinking people are out to get him, ideas of war and pluto always haunting him.

julian reduced to a ghost, but appearing to reyna and hylla as a still alive, solid person. reyna driving an imperial good dagger through him, evaporating him forever.

reyna and hylla meeting Circe, and her telling them who their mother was. her promising them a grand future, one where they could get away and above abusive, crazy men, like their father.

then percy jackson and annabeth chase coming, turning reyna's world upside down. reyna going to camp jupiter, hylla to the amazons

reyna's first time shadow travelling being an accident. reyna and hylla being cornered by the pirates at night, reyna just wanting to hide in the shadows of the forest. and then they did. reyna and hylla appearing just five minutes away from circe's spa, both drained from their joint effort but most of all reyna

reyna arriving at camp and almost instantly earning her title of praetor

reyna being able to cast this feeling of fear over people with a single gaze, leaving people frightened days later still

reyna leading her legions into battle practice, hearing the voices of the dead who once held the same weapons in their hand

nico bringing hazel to reyna, asking for her to let the other girl into camp. reyna sensing almost at once that hazel had just came back to life.

percy coming to camp, reminding reyna of the life she could have had. reyna reading his feelings, reyna knowing his past too inckuded death of close ones, maybe even recently. reyna deciding to give him a chance

reyna meeting annabeth and seeing what she saw in percy in her eyes alone, times ten

reyna touching statues of war gods, and being overwhelmed by waves of dead soldiers pleading, begging for help. reyna being able to communicate with some of them, but most of them just mumbled incoherently

reyna going to find the Argo II only for scipio to later get injured, reyna having to put him out of his misery, but reyna still being able to feel his presence as a ghost

reyna shadow traveling the Athena Parthenos alongside nico and coach hedge all the way to camp, nico helping with his powers as a son of hecate

them stopping for breaks at all these historic places, the dead screaming at reyna, begging to be raised

reyna finally raising them at the battle at camp half blood, hundreds of dead demigods rising, tightly gripping their weapons, ready to win back their honor

NICO:

son of hecate

maria falling for hecate's mysterious yet caring, nature and hecate falling in love with maria's soft spoken and kind words paired with her dark hair spilling over her shoulders

zeus trying to strike down the di Angelo kids but hecate tricking him with the mist, though later it backfires as zeus strikes down maria

hecate, furious and devastated, begging hades to help erase their memories, and later place the kids in the Lotus Casino

Nico and Bianca almost breaking out of the daze of the Casino, and having to be served several flowers just to get them to play games; their mom's magic trying to break through and protect them

the di Angelo kids getting out, going to Westover Hall, and hecate paying all the fees

nico falling in love with this game all about magic, studying the plays and spells, learning them. realizing that if he worded them right, he could do some of the minor stuff; levitating, starting little fires, even being able to hide in the shadows sometimes. bianca convincing him that it was all his imagination

percy, annabeth, and thalia showing up and helping the di angelos escape, bianca becoming so scarce and quiet that she turned invisible. everybody thinking it to be a trick of the light

nico being the opposite, drawing attention to himself, all his questions loud, the sound of the forest and nature suddenly shushed, cut off

nico getting to camp and feeling out of place, as no hecate cabin was built, not being claimed. bianca leaving, percy promising, then bianca dying. percy bringing back a hecate figurine, but it being too late; nico slipping into the shadows

nico slowly teaching himself shadow travel and mist control but having to stop days after a simple trick

nico arriving in the maze, using what he could of the mist to distract and confuse monsters

percy and them finding nico, who casts a black stone wall (a trick of the mist) to stop kronos from coming after them, revealing his godly parent

nico having a little bit of necromancy powers, but only for fellow hecate demigods. nico using this in his advantage in the titan war

nico leaving camp after the titan war, only showing up when percy went missing to help look for him. nico finally having his own cabin

nico's mom tipping him off about hazel, and hades and hecate's agreement to let nico pass through the doors of death safely

nico traveling with reyna and coach hedge, helping reyna shadow travel and healing with spells

nico teaching will stronger and faster healing spells to use on the campers

nico learning slowly how to embrace his powers, despite remarks he got over the years of people calling him a freak. nico not feeling so left out and alone

WILL:

son of iris

naomi solace falling for iris' kind eyes and smile that stretches to her eyes, iris falling for naomi's shining eyes, as if the sun lived there

will getting to camp and staying in the hermes cabin until after the titan war, where he was claimed the minute the iris cabin was finished being built

will being able to pull light out of nowhere, in the darkness of nights, like a beacon

will seeing being a healer as art, fixing what's broken and putting it right again

will using his mom's communication skills to calm people down in time for him to heal them, occasionally with the help of nico

will helping the aphrodite cabin with educating people about acceptance and accepting their selves and others

will being chosen to help apollo after he was turned human because of his kind nature and patience

will overall being a ray of sunshine whenever people need him, whatever the circumstances

BONUSES:

clarisse as a nike demigod, and being almost intolerable with her competitve behavior

meg mccaffrey as a dionysus demigod

alex fierro as a hermes demigod

magnus chase as an apollo demigod

mallory keen as a dionysus demigod

halfborn gunderson as an ares demigod

tj as a nike demigod

blitzen as an aphrodite demigod

hearthstone as a hecate demigod

you're welcome

[sheyshen]

Fictober ‘19 - Day 3

Prompt: “Now? Now you listen to me?” Series: SWtoR: Star Wars the Old Republic Pairing: Kara/Arcann/Theron

This is a follow up for a prompt I did last year for fictober, (you can find it here) but this time it got out of hand so it’ll all be found under the read more:

The same nightmare, again and again, and again. Kara grumbled as she braced for the familiar pain to flood her nerves. The nightmare of getting run through on Asylum, again. It had gotten old the second time it repeated, much more so the first dozen, and at this point, it was just plain annoying. She lost track of how many times she had repeated this memory, always the same way, Arcann refuses to listen, she gets run through, wakes up in pain, and usually wakes either Theron or Arcann in the process. The looks of concern on their faces making her feel guilty as she assured them she was fine.

The last thing she wanted was to dredge up that memory for Arcann as well.

So instead she made an attempt at getting him to listen, and like all the other times had clearly failed. Squeezing her eyes shut she waited, all nerves on edge, because dream or not, this was always excruciating.

The sound of a lightsaber deactivating made her open her eyes slowly as Arcann clipped the hilt to his belt and crossed his arms in front of him.

“You say you know how this goes. Then let’s hear it.” He cocked his head to the side as he spoke.

“Wha- Really? Now?” Kara looked at him surprise obvious on her face. “Now, you finally listen to me?”

He glared at her, “Were you lying?”

“No. No I wasn’t. I-”

“Then tell me what happens. This fight, how does it end?” When she just stared at him, he continued. “You offered to surrender before my father appeared and I did not sense you lying then. So, speak, I don’t have the longest patience as you should know if you know me as well as you claim.”

She couldn’t help but huff a laugh, “We fight, you destroy HK,” She gestures towards the still sparking droid to her side. “I get upset and try to shoot you, get one good shot in at your shoulder and after an honestly pretty one-sided fight, you grab me with the force and impale me here.” She puts her hand over where her scar is when she’s awake. Gesturing with her other hand at the platform above, “Koth comes in right when you do and he shoots down the crate above us knocking you off the platform. We both survive, though I don’t like the reason I did. And we fight again months from now on your flagship.”

“So your friend rushes in to save you, ends our fight, and you escape.”

“Yes.”

He glanced up at the platform. “How long until he comes in?”

Kara raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

Taking a heavy breath he continued, “You’re asking for my help in figuring all this out, correct? Then if he shows up when you claim he does then I will help you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Even though she couldn’t see more than one eye she could tell he had a smug grin on his face. “Then you uphold our deal from earlier and surrender to me and hand over the Gravestone.”

“Deal.” She replied almost immediately earning a huffed laugh from him. “In the time we’ve been talking he should be here soon.” She closed her eyes, thinking, trying to figure out the timing. Pointing at the platform she bounced her hand to her silent counting of 3, 2, 1. “Now.”

As soon as she said now Koth rushed to the railing looking down at them a mix of worry on his face. He glanced between the pair as confusion took over.

Kara shot Arcann her own smug grin, “And there he is. Do you believe me now?”

He narrowed his visible eye at her warningly before striding up to her. “I gave you my word. Now, what do you plan to do?”

“I- I’m not sure yet. I’ve never made it this far before.” She hummed in thought. “I suppose we play this out like it did in reality, go back to the Gravestone and leave Asylum.”

She strode away, leading him up the ramp to Koth who glared at Arcann between sending questioning glances towards the Outlander.

Pulling her aside he asked, “What is going on?”

“I’m trying something different. Just go with it.” She gave him a proud grin before gesturing for them both to follow her and exiting out the door.

“Different? Outlander, what do you mean by that?” After she didn’t explain further he opted to just follow, keeping his blaster trained on the emperor in front of him. He wasn’t sure what she was planning, but he wasn’t about to let down his guard.

They fought their way through the forces that stood between them and Koth’s shuttle. Many stood down at Arcann’s orders, but some refused, perhaps believing it to be a trick or fearful of what Vaylin would do if they didn’t try to eliminate the Outlander regardless of who may’ve suddenly changed sides. If fighting the troops he had just been leading bothered him, Arcann didn’t let it show as he cut down any who refused to follow his orders.

The shuttle ride to the Gravestone went the same as it had in reality, minus the bleeding out and adding in Arcann who stood with his arms crossed as Koth dodged incoming fire, only uncrossing them to catch Kara when she lost her balance and nearly rammed into him.

After landing on the platform as it retracted all three rushed aboard. If Kara had thought the concerned and hostile looks Arcann got when he first joined the Alliance were bad, those paled in comparison to the ones shot his way as he followed her to the bridge as Koth hurried to get the ship airborne.

“Can you do anything to call off the fleet?” She asked, noting the obvious look of surprise on Senya’s face as she watched her son carefully.

“No.” He answered honestly, “If I were on my flagship, I could, but from here Vaylin was the one I left in control of the fleet.”

“Hm.”

“You said you wanted this to go the same way did you not?”

“I did, yes.” Kara huffed, “Thank you for reminding me, but I was hoping for a backup plan in case things go differently since they already have.”

“Then your plan wasn’t well thought out.”

“This was a spur of the moment plan, Arcann…” She shot him a look, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Can I talk to you?” she asked before leading him out into the hall and letting Koth work his magic. Senya followed them a moment after.

Once they were alone, or at least as alone as they could be on a ship bustling with people trying to tend to the wounded and figure out why exactly their enemy was on the ship with them, Kara finally spoke.

“There has to be something different, someone different and I need you to help me figure out who, or what, it is.”

“I’m not sure I would be able to since I’m a change to this am I not?”

“That’s-” she hummed, “That’s true I didn’t think of that.”

“Kara?” Senya spoke up as she approached. “Can I speak with you?” She shot a worried glance towards her son as Kara agreed and stepped away.

“Everything ok Senya? Did Koth manage to break through?”

“He seems to have, yes. But that’s not what I came to speak to you about.” Another glance towards Arcann, “How did you manage to convince him to stand down?”

“It’s a little complicated, but we worked out a deal.”

Arcann watched them speak, closing his eyes as what felt like a headache washed over him. He rubbed at his head, gently kneading at his temple with one hand. It faded after a moment but was followed immediately by another, causing him to huff in annoyance as he used his left arm to cool the exposed area he had just been kneading. Squeezing his eyes shut he attempted to will away the pain as it increased in severity and began to make him feel lightheaded.

Giving up his fight with the sudden pain he approached the pair of women, “Commander, I need to step away for a moment, can we continue this after?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course.” She had glanced at him before turning her attention back to Senya and then whipping her head back around. “Wait, ‘Commander’?”

He raised his exposed eyebrow, “Yes? Or did you not want me calling you that in public anymore?”

“No, no, why are you, I’m not the Commander yet. Are you alright?” she stammered out quickly.

"I have a headache, but yes, I'm fine." He glanced around noting the familiar walls, "Is this the Gravestone?"

"Arcann?" When he returned his attention to her, his visible eyebrow raised in silent question she continued. "You're the real one, aren't you."

"As opposed to a fake me?"

She shook her head, "Theron would be proud of you for that one I'm sure. I mean how are you here, in my dream?"

"Your dream?" He glanced around, noting the walls that were more worn than he remembered and the blue jacket Kara was wearing. Reaching up, he ran his hand along his mask, and connected the dots. "The nightmare you keep having…" He strode forward to put his hands on her shoulders, gripping carefully before pulling her close to him. "Why didn't you tell me that you kept dreaming about when I-"

She returned the embrace, cutting him off before he could continue. "And how exactly would I be able to tell you? Sorry for waking you and Theron up again for the 50th time, just had that dream of the time you almost killed me." She sighed, "I had hoped I could figure this out on my own, I finally managed to get you to work with me too. So much for that I suppose."

He released her, "Have you figured out what's causing it?"

"No, not yet. I was hoping you'd be able to get someone to slip up, whoever's causing this."

"Then I'll find them. I’ll keep acting like my old self, and watch for anyone who doesn’t seem like they belong.”

“Arcann…”

“It will be fine.” He assured her.

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Senya spoke up, “What are you two talking about? Dream?”

"It's a long story." Kara gave her an almost awkward smile. It was meant to be reassuring but she doubted she managed it.

"It will be fine, mother. We'll figure this out." He picked at the mask, the metal almost irritating after having gotten used to not wearing it for so long. "I'll scout the halls see if anything is out of the ordinary."

"I should go with you."

"No, Comman-. Kara. I'll be fine on my own."

"I'll go with him. It'll give us a chance to talk."

"Alright…" Kara sighed, giving in. "But if you see anything strange call my holo right away."

"Of course." He agreed, "Same frequency?"

"Yeah. And promise you'll be careful. I don't know what'll happen to you if something bad happens."

"I'll be fine."

"I'm serious Arcann."

He let out a breath and pulled her to him, leaning his forehead against hers. "I promise. As long as you do the same."

"I'll just wake up if something happens," Kara argued, but the sound of disapproval he made made her chuckle. "I'll be careful. And I'll call if I find anything on my end."

"Good." She couldn't see a majority of his face but the look in the eye she could see told her exactly what he thought.

She kissed his mask, chuckling at the look of frustration on his face before he turned and headed down the hall, Senya at his side already starting to ask him what would likely end up being a plethora of questions he was still avoiding from her when they were awake.

Turning she walked the opposite direction, passing various members of Koth's crew, a majority of which would join the Alliance, some refugees from Asylum, and even a handful of Knights that Senya had recruited when they were on Zakuul.

But nobody out of the ordinary.

Turning down another hall she found Lana talking to another Sith, something Kara wouldn't've paid any mind to except that there hadn't been any sith at asylum or zakuul from what she could remember. But she decided to play ignorant, for all she knew the sith had been there and she just didn't remember due to her injuries.

Approaching the pair, she greeted them, earning a concerned look from Lana and a blank one from the other sith.

"Kara, how are you feeling? Any better?" Lana gave her friend a once over as she spoke, scanning for any injuries.

"Fine, never better." She gave her a grin. When Lana gave her a look that made it clear that she didn't believe her, kara continued. "I'm fine, Lana, I promise. Was just doing some scouting, in case anyone got on board."

"While I appreciate it, you should rest."

"It's fine." She repeated, emphasizing the word fine. "I was hardly wounded and Arcann's helping."

"Something I do find interesting. How did you manage to get him to switch sides?" Lana crossed her arms as she spoke.

Kara shrugged, "I just got a way with words." She winked at her friend, before shooting a glance at the other sith who still stood there patiently.

The other sith was a short woman, shorter than Lana by almost a full head, and while she couldn't place her, she did note the look that flashed across her face at the mention of Arcann.

"We reached an agreement, he helps me with something and I do something in return. Simple as that."

"That is hardly simple given the trouble he's caused up to now. But for the time being, I'll trust your judgment." Lana grumbled.

Kara glanced over at the sith again, raising an eyebrow at the stare the woman had trained on her. "Lana, can I ask, who's your friend?"

Lana glanced over as well, noting the absolute focus the smaller sith had on her friend. "To be completely honest, I'm not sure. She joined us with the refugees from Asylum. We had only just started talking when you arrived. Why?"

"Could we speak a little more privately?"

"Of course." She let the other woman know she would only be a moment as the pair stepped away to talk. "What's on your mind?"

"Can sith…" Kara debated on how exactly to ask this without sounding crazy. "Do sith have the ability to influence dreams?"

Lana raised an eyebrow at that and crossed her arms as she answered. "Some can yes, as I'm sure some Jedi can as well. What makes you ask?"

"Well, this may sound crazy, but I think someone has been messing with my dreams, right now. Specifically making me relive the same event over and over."

"You're saying this is a dream, and you think that someone may be her," Lana stated, disbelief obvious in her voice.

Nodding, Kara continued, "The look on her face when I mentioned Arcann. That she was on Asylum when the only sith that had been there was you…"

"Maybe you should get some rest, Kara. I don't want to sound like I don't believe you, but perhaps you should sit down for a while and then we can talk."

Kara huffed in annoyance, "Fine don't believe me. I'll figure this out a different way." She said as she took a step back and pulled out her comm, calling Arcann. She started talking as soon as his holo image appeared. "Love, can you meet me in the-" her comm blowing up in her hand cut her off. Dropping the sparking device she glared at the other sith in the room, lightning still crackling from her extended hand.

"I would suggest you don't do that." She stated flatly.

Lana drew her lightsaber and stood to defend Kara as the smuggler returned the glare.

"Why?" Kara asked, placing a hand on one of her blasters.

"Really? You ask “why”?" The woman huffed, "Are you really so blind as to not know what your people think?"

"What are you talking about?" Lana narrowed her eyes warningly.

"She means my accepting Arcann into the Alliance…" Kara sighed, "I get it now, all this, making me relive this moment over and over. It's to get me to hate him isn't it?"

Arcann and Senya rushed into the room as she was speaking, weapons drawn. Noting Lana's defensive position Arcann took his own place in front of Kara, lightsaber in front of him with Senya taking a place off to the side ready to intercept.

The sith growled in annoyance, then turned and bolted out the door. Kara stopped her friends when they went to give chase.

"Don't bother. I know who she is so I can catch her when I wake up." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Arcann…"

"No."

"It's the fastest way I can think of. Please, it'll be quick."

"What are you talking about?" Lana's voice was carefully neutral.

"I'm not going to kill you." He practically snarled. "I promised you I'd protect you from now on and-"

"And you promised to help me. This is the only way I've woken up from these dreams, just make it quick."

The look on his face broke her heart, but this was honestly the only way she could think of at the moment. He stepped to her, hugging her close and put the hilt of his lightsaber against her ribs, in the same spot that her scar rested.

"I'm sorry." Was all they could say as he ignited the blade, cutting through her like he had done on the control spar, only this time it made him sick to do so.

Pain flooded her system as she sagged against him, and everything faded to black.

Her eyes snapping open, Kara used all the energy she could muster to ignore the pain and hop out of bed. Arcann sat up a moment after, as she bolted across their room and out the door. He got up as well, pulling on a spare shirt as Theron sat up on high alert. Scanning the room for threats his expression only showing that he was still half asleep when he spotted Arcann.

"What's going on?" He asked, yawning and noting that their lover was gone, "Where's Kara?"

"She figured out the cause of the nightmares," Arcann grumbled as he pulled out one of Theron's shirts and headed for the door.

As soon as he said that, the spy was on his feet and following after him as both men chased down their Commander.

Further ahead Kara ran down the halls, her mind on a single focus, finding that Sith. So focused she didn't seem to notice the looks as she rushed her way through in her underwear. Not that it would've stopped her if she had.

Skidding to a stop she hit the button to open the door to where the force sensitives would spend time training or meditating. Striding into the room she glanced around from person to person until she found the one in question. The short woman rubbed her temples, obviously attempting to ward off a headache. She glanced up as Kara approached, the look on her face shifting from pained annoyance to something that bordered on fear as her commander strode over. She went to grab her lightsaber but Kara grabbed her by the collar yanking her to her feet.

"I knew I recognized you." She growled out. When she noticed the Sith gesturing for her lightsaber Kara turned and used the force to toss the shorter woman out the door she had entered through, earning gasps of surprise from the others in the room. Stalking forward she continued. "Explain yourself." When the woman remained quiet she gestured, pulling her to her feet using the force. "Now."

Glancing over at Arcann and Theron as they rushed over she smirked. "It's exactly as you said, Commander. I was trying to get you to realize how foolish it was to recruit him."

"By torturing me?"

"By making you remember! The pain he put you and everyone in the Alliance through. The threat he really is that so many seem to be forgetting."

Kara sighed, letting the woman drop to the floor. "I can't believe this…" she shook her head, "I haven't forgotten, even without having to relive it in dreams, I never forgot. I just moved on, I realized that he was worth forgiving. And that’s what you need to do too.”

The Sith snarled, “He took everything from me. My family, my wife, my son! Gone because of him! I spent the last five years learning from the sith to avenge them, betrayed everything I was taught as a Jedi for them. And then you go and forgive him? Why?”

Kara grimaced, the fight she had prior fizzling. This woman was willing to sacrifice anything for revenge.

“I stayed in the Alliance even after you accepted him because I thought you were using him as a tool to get to Vaylin. And when you let him stay free after, I stayed my hand because I was loyal. Because I thought you’d realize your mistake and remedy it. And when you still didn’t…”

“You took matters into your own hands.” Kara finished. “I get it. You felt slighted when I didn’t lock him up or kill him or what have you. I’m sure there are plenty who feel similarly to you. But you have to move on if you just stay wallowing in your misery because of one man, what will you do if he wasn’t around? If he did die, would you go back to living?”

“What?”

“Arcann is different than he was all those years ago. He’s not the same man that caused your family’s deaths. I’ve spent months by his side, I know-”

“Kara.” Arcann cut her off. He strode forward, putting a hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that made her take a step back. Turning his attention to the sith woman, the fallen Jedi, the mourning widow, he continued. “Nothing I, or the commander, can say will appease you. I understand. It’s not the same as what you went through, what I caused you to go through. But I understand.”

“You understand.” The sith scoffed. “You understand nothing.”

“I lost my brother, years ago, because of my father’s influence. I struck the blow, and I bear the shame, but I spent years of my life hating that man, striving to end his life with my own hands that I became him, became everything I hated. And caused people like you to become people like me, to be like Valkorion. The Commander and my mother saved me from that darkness, the same darkness you’re letting control you. If you-”

“Don’t.” She warned. “You can’t just go all ‘poor me’ on me and think I’ll change my mind.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” He frowned.

“He wants you to take a step back. Think. Not with your grief, but with a clear head.” Kara spoke up. “I lost five years of my life that I’ll never get back. I missed most of my sons' childhoods, their first experiences in life, I’ve nearly died multiple times. But I’ve moved on, I’ve accepted that a person can change, and he’s proven himself to be one of us. I’ve forgiven him for the things he’s done to me, and I’ve gained a valuable person by my side who’s managed to save my life more times than he’s tried to take it now.” She gave the woman a sad smile. “I’m not saying you have to forgive him, but take a step back. Look at the change he’s made, the people he’s helped since joining the Alliance. And think of your family, would they want to you to destroy yourself to avenge them?”

“I-” The sith huffed in annoyance. “Enough.” She pushed past them, striding down the hall. No one tried to stop her. “I’ll think on it.” She paused, “And I’ll leave your dreams be. It’s not worth the effort any longer.”

“Wait-” One of the onlookers called out, but Kara held up a hand to silence them.

When the Sith grumbled and started to leave she spoke up. “And Joy…” She paused, watching the woman carefully, “Feel free to come talk if you’d like. Sometimes a friendly ear can help. And there are many of those here, you need only ask.”

The sith, Joy, huffed again, but nodded and left them all standing there.

“Well, that was an event,” Theron spoke up. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine. And I think she will too eventually.” Kara sighed. “I know there’s lots of people in the Alliance like her, I just hope that they can all eventually move on from their pain before anyone gets hurt.”

“Like you.” Arcann pointed out.

“I’m hardly just anyone, I’ll be fine, that's what I’m here for, to take the heavy hits.”

“No, that’s what I’m here for.” He corrected. “And to remind you of this.” He said as he pulled the shirt he had grabbed over her head, pulling it down so she was at least somewhat covered. “While Theron and I appreciate seeing you like this, I’m not sure the entire base needs to.”

Kara chuckled as she maneuvered so she could slide her arms through the sleeve holes. “I knew I forgot something.” She teased. “Thank you. And thank you for helping me, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to figure it out without you. How did you get in my dream anyway?”

“Wait, you were in her dream?” Theron asked, “You can do that?”

“I don’t know. I was only half asleep when you started grumbling. The last time you had that nightmare you had an easier time when I was holding you so that’s what I did. And when I fell asleep I was on the Gravestone with a massive headache.” He explained. “I don’t know how, but at least it helped. And gave me a trial of telling mother about us.”

Kara chuckled, “I figured she was pestering you about that.”

“Yes. I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet.”

“Can’t blame you.” Theron said while yawning, “Talking to Senya does have an interrogation feel to it when she really wants to know something.” He stretched, scratching his neck as he cocked his head to the side, “I don’t know about you, but I’m going back to bed.”

“I think I will too, I could use the sleep.” Kara chuckled as the three of them headed back to their room. “It’ll be nice to sleep without bad dreams for once.”

“Agreed.”

[awkward-lesbian-writer]

Sarah Lyons x Female Lone Wanderer Christmas Fanfic

(This is probably not as good I as I hope but I started this at 3:30am and I’m tired lol, I am currently writing this part at 4:45am but anyways...on to the fanfic!)

It was December 25th 2277 and it was Lissandra's first Christmas outside of Vault 101. She wasn't sure if she should be glad she managed to live this long or sad. She had lost her father over the course of months but managed to find Madison Li, the woman her mother wanted to be her Godmother. She defeated the Enclave and with the Lyon's Pride Brotherhood of Steel and currently resided at The Citadel. The Citadel, regardless of the fact that everyone was soldiers, was actually a lot more lively than the Vault.

Sure the Overseer would organize a Vault wide party in their atrium but here, everyone was laughing and even drinking some pretty rancid stuff regardless if it was a holiday or not. Apparently one of the Scribes had made moonshine, she only knew of moonshine from the pre-war history books that had been in the Vault. A week prior they had each been given a name, they had to find a present for that person as some sort of game. She was pretty sure it was called Secret Santa, the adults played it in the Vault. She had drawn Sarah Lyons...okay that was a bit hard. If she had to described in four words, Lissandra would say: Woman shaped battering ram. The Power Armor the woman wore made her look smaller than she actually was.

It wasn't until the day after Fawkes, her rather intelligent Super Mutant friend/companion, turned on the purifier instead of Lissandra or Sarah sacrificing themselves, that she saw Sarah out of her armor. The Citadel had showers for women and men, in separate rooms of course, and Lissandra had gone there shortly after arriving and saw the older woman in nothing but a tank top and her Brotherhood issued pants. She wasn't even sure if woman shaped battering ram was fitting for her, she would love to see her try and arm wrestle Fawkes.

She managed to find to put together a pretty powerful laser rifle as an actual clean look canvas with intact and still slightly liquid paint, nothing a bit of water wouldn't fix. She first sketched out the Lyon's Pride symbol before painting it with Sarah's face on one side and her father's on the other side. She knew how important they were to one another, maybe not as close as Lissandra had been to James but they loved one another.

The 19 year old tipped the fine tipped brush into white paint before signing on the black background 'Lissandra' in the bottom right corner. Granted, they were suppose to do one present but it was after all her first Christmas outside the vault. She missed her friends, she missed Amata, she missed the safety of the Vault but at the same time didn't. She reached over and plucked a Fancy Lad Snake Cake from it's box and pealed the wrapping off it before popping the small cake into her mouth.

There was a knock on the door and before she could say anything, the door opened and she instantly turned the easel, she had also found with the canvas, around so it's back faced Owyn Lyons, Sarah's father. He chuckled and rubbed at his beard. "You get me?" She shook her head. "Sarah?" She remained quiet. "I won't tell her kid."

Lissandra swallowed the cake and nodded before turning it for him to see. "I already made her a new rifle but...I wanted to do more."

He looked impressed, speechless even. The girl mainly kept to herself, except for asking for a few missions here and there to earn some caps, they knew nothing other than she came from Vault 101, was James' daughter and was Madison's Goddaughter...not that Madison seemed to pay much attention to her. She took the silence to grab another snack cake, this time biting it in half. "You paint?"

"I did my fair share in the vault." Lissandra answered truthfully. "It's been maybe two years since I last picked up a paint brush." Speaking of which, she picked up the fine tipped brush and put it into the cup of water, swirling it around to clean the brush of the paint.

"Well I think she'll love it."

"I hope so." she laughed making him smile. "What can I do for you Elder?"

He looked confused before realizing he came here for a reason. "Oh." He looked at the pocket watch he carried. "It's seven forty-five. The party starts in fifteen. Trying to give everyone a heads up. Be in the common room at eight." She nodded and he left her room.

"Right." was all she could say as she looked at the painting.

Pulling her Vault suit up from where it hung at her waist and slid her arms in, pulling the zipper up to the middle of her chest and grabbed the wrapped rifle, it was in a box...there was no way in held she'd try to wrap it with out a box. Her father taught her to always find a box big enough if she believed she couldn't wrap the actual present. Looking at the canvas, she debated whether or not to quickly go find something to put it in but shook her head. No time. She tested several spots with her fingers to make sure it was dry and it was, her name drying quickly too.

The common room was about three minutes from her room, it got so loud in there sometimes that it used to keep her up but she was used to it now. She walked in and saw several BoS Soldiers sitting around, enjoying that fucking moonshine. She threw up the first time she drank it and had never heard Sarah laugh so hard before while trying to comfort the puking teen. She instantly went to her normal corner and sat down on a couch when Sarah walked in in nothing but a tank top and her standard issue BoS pants, she'd suggest it was a cold but the Capital Wasteland rarely got cold anymore since the Great War.

She was carrying a box and was laughing when one of the soldiers attempted to pass her a beer bottle re-purposed as a moonshine bottle. She waved her hand and said something along the lines of later. She looked at Lissandra and that smile turned bigger. She moved through the growing crowd of soldiers and stood on the other side of the table that Lissandra sat in front of. "You look pretty." she stated making the 19 year old knit her brows together. She looked pretty? She looked like she did every day just minus the smell of the wasteland.

"...uh...thanks?" she asked.

The Sentinel looked around and noticed people were already giving their presents. "Here." she put the box on the table making Lissandra realize they had gotten each other.

The young woman blinked several times before snapping out of whatever stupor she was in and put her box on the table before pushing it to Sarah. "I got you." she stated making the blonde snort with laughter. "Do you want that first or..." she raised the canvas up a bit that was backwards so Sarah couldn't see it yet.

"Oh!" she reached out for it making Lissandra hesitantly pass it to the older woman.

Once it was in the Sentinel's hands there was no going back. It was turned over and she saw those blue eyes taking in every inch of it. Her own hazel eyes looking nervous as she tried to figure out what expression she was reading. "Sentinel?"

Sarah opened her mouth but automatically shut it. It was a good solid and agonizing three minutes before those blue eyes looked up and locked with Lissandra's hazel eyes. "This is beautiful." she spoke making the Lone Wanderer's heart almost leap out her chest. "You did this?" The young woman nodded. She moved around the table and actually hugged the woman making her tense up and squeak as she felt those powerful arms wrap around her.

"Might wanna open your other gift before you put me in this bear hug." she managed.

"Alright but after, you're opening yours."

"Yes ma'am." chuckled the teen.

The wrapping paper wasn't proper wrapping paper. She took pages from old and destroyed books, she actually liked how it turned out.  She watched as Sarah seemed to carefully take the wrapping off, maybe she wanted to read the pages? The top of the box was lifted off and inside was the laser rifle that took Lissandra two sleepless nights to get working. On both sides was the Lyon's Pride symbol painted on it. She picked it up and took some of the energy cells she put in the box into the gun before watching it light up as it activated.

She aimed and fired, the laser cutting a moonshine bottle directly in half and striking the wall, leaving a scorch mark in it's wake. Everyone jumped at the sound of the bottle breaking, mainly from the top of the bottle hitting the ground and shattering rather than the laser cutting it in half. "I tested it on super mutants, it's very efficient." she stated as Sarah ejected the energy cell.

"You're amazing, you know that." she spoke tilting her head to the side making a blush appear on the young woman's cheeks. "You found this?"

"M-Made it. I made it."

"Alright, amazing is an understatement." she sat her gun down gently and smacked the younger of the two hard on the back. "Your turn."

Right, it was wasn't it? She noticed the wrapping on her present was posters, possibly pre-war posters at that. She undid them gently and lifted the top off to see a leather jacket that made her think of Tunnel Snakes, fucking Tunnel Snakes, but her eyes locked on the yellow 101 stitched into the back making her pull it out and smile. The jacket Butch gave her when she left had been warm and this felt about the right weight. She shifted and slid it on before smiling as she tugged the sleeves up a bit to her elbows, the sleeves of her Vault suit sticking out.

The blonde tugged on it a bit before smiling. "Guess that kid at Rivet City was right about your size."

Wait what? "Kid? What kid?"

"Butch I think. He said he knew you when he heard me mention your name. Admitted to bullying you when you were younger, almost broke his nose but he managed to say you two were friends now."

Where they friends now? She'd have to go to Rivet City and see what he was doing there? Sure she sided with Amata to keep Vault 101 open but she didn't expect anyone to leave or at least leave and go that far. Rivet City took Lissandra about a fully day to reach due to all the Super Mutants, Raiders, and creatures that wanted to kill her. She looked back in the box and saw a framed photos that made her heart nearly stop. One was of herself with her father, having been taken by Jones a few months before James left the Vault, the second was a photo of her father with her mother, and the third was her mother's favorite biblical saying. The last time she saw these three photos, they had been in her father's room and office back in the Vault.

She picked up the photo of herself and her father, her thumb rubbing across the glass. "How?"

"I went to your Vault after getting the jacket by Butch made. He said the current Overseer would know what else to give you. Some of the inhabitants were not friendly but that Amata, sweet girl." Lissandra knew she was a sweet girl and when she was younger, she had a crush on her best friend up until she was 18 but had she been sweet the day she told Lissandra she could never be apart of the Vault again? That hurt more than anything. She helped Amata take control of the Vault from her father and was told that there was no longer a place for her to stay in the Vault.

Fawkes being the gentle soul he was, carried a distraught Lissandra back to the Citadel. Her mind wasn't in a right place to fight anything or anyone along the way. She stayed locked up in her room for several days, managing to eat what Sarah or some scribes dropped off for her. "Yeah." was all she could manage as Sarah stared at her. She moved and hugged her this time, arms slipping around her waist to return it.

"Mistletoe!" shouted someone making the two look to see a Scribe standing beside them and looked up, what looked like a paper mistletoe was being held above them. She had seen plastic ones in the Vault, maybe she could run to the Vault and ask Amata for one for next year if she remained with the Brotherhood.

The two looked at each other, Lissandra blushing as Sarah smirked. "I...no..." was all Lissandra managed to get out. She and Amata had "kissed" when they were eight, a quick peck on the lips as Butch teased them with a mistletoe...that sure shut him up. "I mean not that I wouldn't...I...I don't know what I mean but..."

She never finished her sentence before lips pressed against her own. They were slightly chapped but soft at the same time against her. She barely managed to catch the whistling of several Soldiers whistling at the sight of their Sentinel kissing their newest recruit. Sarah pulled away with a small wet noise before eyeing the young girl again, she put her left hand on the girl's cheek before leaning in and kissing her again. This kiss probably should've happened somewhere private cause next thing the 19 year old knew was there was a tongue pushing it's way into her mouth.

This was something she had never done before, properly kissing like this instead of a quick peck. The blonde's arm tightened around her waist, pulling their bodies together. Breasts against breasts and hips against hips, even though Sarah stood maybe an inch taller than Lissandra. Someone clapped beside the two making them pull apart and Sarah turned a pretty red as she saw her father standing there.

"You want to make out with our newest recruit, than take her to your bedroom." he chuckled making Sarah nod.

Lissandra lowered her head, her hair moving to shield her face as BoS men and women shouted words of encouragement but a few men said something inappropriately that made Sarah hugged her waist tightly, possessive almost. Her father shouted something to make them shut up as the blonde lifted the younger woman's head and pressed their foreheads together.

She saw the Lone Wanderer's expression and smiled. "Ignore them." she whispered. "Ignore them and focus on me." Sarah saw Lissandra run her tongue along her bottom lip, wetting it most likely.  "You're the best gift I could've been given this year." There was a look of surprise on the other woman's face. "I mean, if we're...I assumed..."

Lips pressed against Sarah's quickly. "No you didn't assume." she chuckled. "I've liked you since we met on my way to Galaxy Radio. Regardless to the fact you were a bit of a hard ass but I...I felt something. So you're also the best gift I could've been given this year. After this shitty fucking year I had, you're my silver lining. So does that mean we're...?"

"You're my girlfriend. On December twenty-fifth, we became girlfriends. Remember that." she stated cupping Lissandra's face.

A smile formed on her face. Would her father approve? Sarah's father seemed to. Hell would Madison approve? That was all that mattered to her now. Aside from Sarah, Madison was the only other person she cared about. "Thank you." she whispered as tears slid down her cheeks.

Those power arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a comforting hug and she buried her face into Sarah's neck. She had lost her father and lost her home but she gained a girlfriend. "Let me know when you're okay, everyone will tease you for days if they see you crying." chuckled the blonde making a laugh erupt from the younger woman. She nodded and tightened her hold on Sarah.

They stayed like that for several moments, soldiers passing their gifts and alcohol back and forth. Sarah rested her chin on top of Lissandra's head and smiled towards her father who flashed a smile of his own and a thumbs up. He approved and to be honest, Sarah couldn't have chosen a better partner. "I love you." was all the young woman said.

"I love you too." whispered the Sentinel.

When asked Lissandra would admit that even though she had been exiled from her home and lost her father, this Christmas wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Sarah made everything better from day one. She'd openly state that she would never wish to return to Vault 101, she was happy with Sarah. She was happy being her girlfriend and eventual fiancee. Even though she was parent-less, she wouldn't trade this life for anything because she was loved and cared for by the most important person in her life, Sentinel Sarah Lyons.

(Note: SARAH LIVES IN MY FALLOUT 4 FANFIC CAUSE REASONS! Mainly I hate Maxson and I like the headcanon that Maxson over threw her to take control over the Prydwen but instead of Sarah dying, she was left for dead and Lissandra vows to take revenge on Maxson but that'll happen in my main Fallout 4 fanfic...whenever I post it lol)

[impracticaldemon]

Nalu Fluff Week 2017 Within the Law Chapter 3: Lawful Tresspass

fanfiction by impracticaldemon

Author's Note:

This is the final chapter for Within the Law. This chapter is packed with flirtation, love, lust, raw emotion and thwarted need. Also, legal terms.

Hope it's fun!   ~Impracticaldemon

Lawful Trespass Prompts: Texting; Fairy Tales (at least in concept if not final design)

Lucy's interview with Makarov & Vermilion—the law firm also known as Fairy Tail—had been on the Wednesday. When she'd gotten home that evening, she'd had no difficulty avoiding questions, since her father was at work, as usual, and the servants were all very much on her side and knew where she'd been. Not that they had a huge staff, but even four people seemed like an awful lot for a family of two adults and no small children.

That night, after eating a solitary dinner while trying to catch up on some reading for class, Lucy couldn't seem to focus on anything. The people at Fairy Tail had fully caught her attention, and they were far more interesting than what she was studying. She finally left her Trusts text book open at "constructive trusts"—the case law seemed to be all over the map, as the courts had gotten especially creative with this one—and threw herself down on her bed to stare at her comms lacrima.

You were speaking with him four hours ago. What on earth is wrong with you?

It was strange—she felt like she was fourteen crushing on a guy two grades up, not a competent young woman of twenty-three with one university degree already behind her. Her eyes traced a familiar pattern above her. When she was much younger, she and her mother had painted the stars making up the constellations of the Zodiac on her ceiling in phosphorescent paint. Lucy couldn't actually make out much right now, since she had lights on, but it didn't matter—she knew them all by heart.

The lacrima in her hands chimed, indicating a text message. Her eyes went wide when she saw the sender: Grand Moff Dragneel. She snickered at the name, but her stomach did an odd kind of squeeze-hop.

)Hey there! )Did you make it home okay? )So are you there or what?

Lucy scrambled to sit up and send back a quick affirmative.

)Great! Look there's something I've got to tell you. )Erza and Gray both reminded me. )Forgot you didn't know. Anyway I'm here now can I come in?

Lucy stared at the last few words.

)Lucy? Back window seemed best.

She ran to one of her two bedroom windows and looked out—and down. Now-familiar cotton-candy hair looked almost white in the intermittent light of the moon. Natsu raised an arm and waved. Lucy unbolted and opened the window. Then she shook her head and raised her lacrima in order to send another text.

)Natsu what are—

She never got to send her text. Somehow—she had no idea how—Natsu quickly scrambled up the fieldstone exterior of the house and swung himself in the window. He grinned at her as though guys climbed thirty-foot walls like that all the time.

"Hey cool—nice room!"

Lucy backed away slowly, lacrima clutched tightly in one hand.

"Natsu. What the hell?"

Something in the way she said his name got through to him. He stopped moving and stood awkwardly just inside the window. Lucy examined him closely, but there was nothing especially weird about him. Cargo pants hugged his hips and then fell loosely to meet black canvas sandals—and how on earth had he climbed in those? His tight navy t-shirt outlined a muscular chest and showed off a flat, well-defined stomach and strong arms. I should be freaking out right now, not… staring wistfully.

Natsu scrubbed the back of his head. "Right, right, sorry. Yeah, um… okay. This isn't usually my thing, you know?"

"Which part?" Lucy asked dryly. "The vertical ascent—and possible unlawful entry—or something else?"

Her guest (or possible trespasser), laughed. "Hey yeah, I guess I should've asked if I could come in, huh?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, it's nice to meet somebody who knows the difference between unlawful trespass and break-and-enter. People watch way too many American cop shows."

"Technically, you could be charged with home invasion," Lucy replied, "since you knew I was here."

"Maybe," Natsu conceded, "but you'd have a hell of a time showing that I entered with any intention to commit an indictable offence—"

"We still haven't even established whether you broke in, let alone your reason for breaking in. I mean, I opened the window voluntarily when you announced your presence. Though I'd argue that I didn't expect you to be able to scale the wall, so it's not the same as opening a door."

"But—no, never mind. Anyway, isn't the whole home invasion thing more of a factor in sentencing—like, it aggravates the crime?"

Lucy considered briefly, but her knowledge of criminal law was starting to fail her. Still, her memory was exceptional, and they'd covered the topic at some length at the end of first year. Murder might be more exciting, but a future client was a lot more likely to be charged with assault, or break-and-enter.

"I think you're right. But you may still be unlawfully in a dwelling-house."

"Still requires intent to commit an offence."

"Presumption of intention of commit an offence goes along with the break and enter …or just being there unlawfully."

"Rebuttable."

"Oh for crying out loud, Natsu!"

"Oh?" The pink-haired man took a step further into the room and put his hands on his hips. "Does this mean that you're conceding the case, counsel?"

"Give me a break! First—no. Second—what case? Third—you specialize in corporate law, which we both know isn't nearly as exciting as it sounds! You're an expert on voting rights for minor shareholders, not some kind of, of pink-haired Perry Mason! When is the last time you even opened the Criminal Code?"

"In reverse order, Ms. Heartfilia," purred Natsu, eyes gleaming, "just last week; don't mock Perry Mason—even if he's at least fifty years out of date, fictional, and American; so what?; your case against me for breaking and entering (or maybe unlawful trespass with intent); and finally, where's your proof beyond a reasonable doubt?"

Lucy stamped her foot, torn between annoyance and growing amusement. "What case?!" Then she added quickly—because she was a sucker for a debate—"But just to make it clear: please leave immediately. Ha! Now, if you stay, you will clearly be unlawfully within this dwelling, since you have no right to be here. And that means that you are now presumed to be here with intent to commit an offence."

"Aw, Lucy, no fair!" Natsu hopped up onto the window sill. "It was just getting fun. Do you really want me to leave?"

Lucy shook her head, set down her lacrima, and gestured him back inside. Was that some kind of weird flirting or something? Because… it was fun and just very slightly sexy, which makes no sense. She pulled her desk chair around and sat down. "I'm still confused, so don't get too much closer unless I tell you it's okay. Why are you so up on basic criminal law anyway?"

Natsu looked slightly sheepish, but snagged a handsome leather pouffe and perched on top of it like a very unusual Little Miss Muffett (though not one who would be afraid of spiders, and minus the curds and whey). "I'd rather not go into that right now," he said loftily.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Is this the part where I say 'Curiouser and curiouser?'"

"Um, give me a minute." Natsu frowned slightly.

"You know Perry Mason but not Alice in Wonderland?!"

"I was getting there!"

"So you and Gray are both into old-time detectives and mysteries? I mean—Poirot? Isn't that what you called Gray earlier? How many people know Agatha Christie these days?"

"The shows were pretty popular for a while," muttered Natsu. "Besides, it's obvious that you know them too."

Lucy sighed. "I read… a lot." She wanted to ask, What's your excuse? Hot young lawyers don't sit at home reading the classics—do they?

Natsu had obviously lost track of the conversation. He was staring at a display case. "Wow… is that a—"

"Yes."

"Signed?"

"The card is. By George Lucas and Mark Hamill."

"You have an original, signed light-saber? I thought that was impossible!"

Lucy shifted uncomfortably. Her father was very, very wealthy. It had been an amazing gift, and she did treasure it—but she'd wanted something from Carrie Fischer. Princess Leia had been her idol, even though the original Star Wars movies had first aired long before Lucy was born. However, she was pretty sure that her father had delegated the purchase of a suitable eighteenth birthday present to one of his staff. She couldn't blame whoever it was for not knowing her very well, given their boss' temper when it came to "fraternizing" with his daughter. Besides, it was a light saber. Her father probably would have chosen jewelry.

"Just lucky I guess," she temporized.

Natsu started to look around the room with more interest than he had before. When he started skimming her book titles, she cleared her throat.

"Natsu—did you really come here to discuss Star Wars?"

"I would have if I'd known!"

"… Really not the point."

"Oh right." He turned and gave her a serious look. "Um, this is going to sound weird, okay? But Erza—"

"—and Gray—" murmured Lucy, remembering his original texts.

"—thought you might wonder."

This was getting annoying. "Natsu, spit it out. Is the firm a front for drug smuggling? Money laundering? Arms peddling? Cheating the tax system—well, any more than most?"

Natsu's eyes grew wider and rounder with each preposterous solution. "No! Of course not! And my clients know that although I set up, um, tax-efficient corporate structures, I'll never get them into tax avoidance problems, let alone tax evasion!" He paused, considering, and Lucy waited, her earlier annoyance having faded into a strong desire to giggle.

"The thing is," her odd visitor said slowly, "our clients find out pretty fast what we will and won't do. We're not afraid of a challenge, but if we think a client is screwing around with the law, then they become an ex-client pretty fast. Especially if they just want our firm's name on a few deals to make them look more like upstanding citizens. Anyway, not many people can stand up to Erza when she's mad." Natsu's grin suddenly returned. "She's had to deal with some pretty strange characters, but somehow we always keep our retainer, even when we cut them loose."

Lucy was intrigued. "You mean that when the drug dealers try to get M&V to set up a structure for their money laundering—or even for a legit deal just to get some credibility—you somehow find out who they are and send them packing? And keep the initial fee?"

"Well sure. Gray's gotta be good for something, even if he is a seriously nerdy guy."

"Says the man with a 'Type A' original release Star Wars poster," Lucy teased.

Natsu turned slightly pink, but laughed. "Well yeah, but Star Wars is cool, right? Gray's into computers and gaming and stuff."

"I've been known to play video games," Lucy told him haughtily.

"Okay, but I'll bet you play stuff like MarioKart and maybe some Legend of Zelda—you seem like you'd be into Link, somehow."

Lucy reddened. "What do you mean, 'into'? Yes, I like MarioKart and yes I like Legend of Zelda—so what? They're good games. I used to play a lot of the Fire Emblem stuff too, for that matter. I haven't actually played much of anything lately though because of my—" Lucy stopped short. She'd almost told Natsu about her book. What was it about this guy? "...Because of my courses."

Natsu had been nodding affably. There he was, sitting cross-legged on something that looked like somebody had turned a Jigglypuff into a soft, round footstool—an awful thought, but then again, at least Natsu matched!—and, and… Lucy cursed her brain. Normally she could be calm and logical when presented with strange situations. But an attractive guy with pink hair sitting on her favourite pink pouffe and talking law with her—apparently she had an unknown weakness. When was the last time she'd wanted to kiss somebody?

"The point is," her weakness said at that moment, since she'd stopped talking, "that you like Nintendo. See? I had you pegged for a Nintendo girl."

"Ugh. It's dumb to generalize like that."

"Okay, fine, but hear me out. I'm not saying that Gray doesn't play Nintendo, because he does—there isn't much he doesn't play, because he's a competitive bastard."

"Whereas you would never play any of his favourite games just so you could beat him," Lucy slid in smoothly.

"Right—what?" Natsu looked completely taken aback, and then shook his head at her. "That was—"

"Slick? Accurate? A brilliant character analysis?"

"Stop i!" Natsu put his hands over his ears and pretended to pout. It didn't last long. "Fine, okay? Maybe. But—"

"Look, are you ever going to tell me what Erza said to tell me? Because, you know, school tomorrow and… stuff."

"My point is that Gray plays those online multiplayer games where you pick some dorky fantasy or sci-fi guy and go beat on people. I mean, that's geeky, am I right?"

Lucy crossed over to Natsu and sat down in front of him. She was going to pretend that she'd done it on purpose to scold him, but the truth was that it had been half-unconscious.

"Natsu," she said, looking up into his green-grey eyes with a serious expression. "Look me in the face and tell me that you don't play Overwatch. Tell me that you have never spent hours figuring out exactly how to beat whatever character Gray likes best." She leaned closer to him and raised her eyebrows. "Well? On your honour as somebody who has collected all of the key Star Wars miniatures and probably has the AT-AT sitting in his living room on an end table instead a bowl of fruit."

There was a noticeable flush of red high on Natsu's cheekbones.

"Wow," he said, "you're good. And of course I can beat Gray at his dumb online games—sometimes, anyway. Maybe not at League of Legends unless I'm lucky and he has a lousy team. But did you see how much money those guys make these days?"

"Yeah, even my father's taken an interest—strictly from the perspective of exploiting the heck out of it of course. But now I want to know two things. One, what are you here to tell me?!" Natsu winced, and Lucy realized she'd spoken rather loudly. "And two, when do you guys ever, you know, work?"

"Oh it all sorts itself out," said Natsu airily. "Besides Gray had to agree to a percent—" he stopped abruptly.

"A percentage? Of what?"

Natsu waved his hands a little frantically, "Um, I wasn't supposed to mention that. So, about why I came?"

"A percentage? Come on Natsu… I'll die of curiosity… He looks so serious but it turns out he has a stripping habit and can play League like a pro—wait, that's not it is it? And is the Law Society okay with it?"

Lucy felt Natsu's warm hands on either cheek, and he lowered his face toward hers. She almost forgot to breathe. Why am I okay with this?

"You're really amazing Lucy. I've known it for a while now."

"For… a while?"

"Yeah. For example," the green-grey eyes flickered to her desk. "I know that you write late into the night, after you put your law books away. I know that you're always kind to people, even when you're having a bad day. I know that you forgive people, even when they hurt you."

Lucy pulled away from Natsu hands. She felt a combination of angry and afraid and… very confused.

"Natsu, what the hell? And it had better be good, because you're freaking me out and I'm seriously contemplating calling the police."

"Right, right… I'm sorry! I have personal space issues, according to Erza."

"Some people call it stalking, Natsu."

"No, no! Nothing like that! Honest! Argh - wait!"

He seemed genuinely upset, so Lucy stayed where she was.

"Make it good. Don't mention Star Wars, books, or games …or Gray, unless he's the one who told you to spy on me."

"No, that was gramps."

"The senior partner of M&V—Makarov Dreyar? He got you to spy on me?"

"Yeah. Well, he did say we'd been keeping an eye on you, right? See, supposedly your mum used to be pretty involved with the firm and its founding members—like, a protégée of Makarov's, you know?"

"No… I didn't know." Another thing her father hadn't told her?

"Oh. Okay then. Well, she gave it all up to marry your dad. According to gramps, they really might have, you know, loved each other, but it really wasn't a great fit. Unfortunately, their families were all for it, especially his. I think there must have been something funny about the whole set-up, but gramps won't talk about it. All I know is that he had Gray keep an eye on the Heartfilia companies—well, once Gray knew how. I mean, not even the Ice Princess was born knowing how to dig up the goods on a multinational organization that has limited partnerships holding shell companies holding blind trusts."

"I take it he's good at it now?" Lucy asked the question just to be polite. She disliked talking about her family, especially her parents. She was feeling… sad.

"Yeah. I'm no slouch either, of course. Took both of us—and some, um, judicious pressure by Erza on the right people—to get a good picture of things."

"And is any of that relevant right now?"

"Well, yeah… because, um, Fairy Tail has kind of an unusual structure."

"Uh-huh."

"We're all partners."

"Wait—seriously?! That just can't be financially viable! And why doesn't anybody know that? And what about the Law Society?"

Natsu shrugged, and Lucy could tell that he was honestly disinterested in what the Law Society thought. "Basically, profit is a factor for us, but it's not the main one. Whether a firm has all partners, or partners and associates is just a question of business model and profit-sharing, right? Thing is, when Makarov told you that we're like family, it was true. That's how it is. Some people work harder than others and earn more—that's no different from a regular firm that has the partners vote on bonuses, right? Some people are allowed more of the profits than others because of seniority, or special duties… Anyway, people don't leave too often."

Lucy was silent, still trying to get her head around a large firm with all partners and no associates. You'd really have to trust your partners, she decided.

"But my mother left?" she prodded at last, when Natsu didn't continue.

"Yeah, and that's the thing. She still had her share in the partnership when she left."

"But… there must have been a buy-out clause?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

Natsu shrugged again. "I think there was. I think they all hoped your mother would come back, or work part-time, or something. It's all a little weird."

You're all a little weird, Lucy thought.

"Is it resolved now?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But if you join us then gramps thinks we're vulnerable to your father's manipulation again. At the same time, he loves the idea."

"Why?"

Natsu gave her a strange look. "Because you're Layla Heartfilia's daughter dummy! I mean, didn't I just finish telling you about the whole 'family' thing?"

He had indeed. Lucy let her head drop softly against Natsu's knee. He was probably startled, but—just as she'd expected—a warm hand came down on her head to stroke her hair.

"So you came to tell me all this? They couldn't have told me all this sooner? And… that means you were lying earlier about not knowing who I was."

"Uh, well… kind of? I never said that I didn't know you. Anyway, gramps didn't want to get into it while you were still learning the ropes, you know. But there's a slight problem now."

"What's that?"

Natsu sat in silence for a while and Lucy was too comfortable—or had too much to think about—to move. Finally, Natsu gently tipped up her chin. His eyes were almost entirely grey now, and had lost their cheerful good humour.

"I kind of… like you." The blush on his cheeks darkened. "Um, a lot. You might have noticed."

I've only known him for about five hours, Lucy thought frantically to herself. What am I supposed to do now?

Natsu cleared his throat. "I totally understand that you can't feel the same way after, well, not very long, anyway. Plus…"

Lucy found her voice again. "Plus I'm pretty sure that a partner dating a summer student is frowned on by the Law Society."

"Probably—those guys don't like anything." Lucy saw him scowl and suspected that Natsu and the Law Society weren't always on the best of terms. "We totally have to watch our steps. But that's not the point. The point is that gramps and Erza are worried about it. We do have to follow the Law Society rule about not admitting you as a partner until you're qualified as a lawyer. And until you're a partner, you're an employee. And right now you're going to be mostly my employee."

"And you're telling me all this now?!"

Natsu looked away and scrubbed at his hair. "I, uh, didn't exactly tell them how I felt. They just figured it out."

"Especially after you said you'd be helping me find a place to live?" Despite being both flushed and flustered, Lucy was beginning to see the funny side of the situation. "Oh Natsu… You told them not to worry about me because we were getting together on the weekend to look at places, didn't you?"

"Well of course! They just took it wrong!" He frowned at floor. "Stupid Gray was laughing at me. But honestly—I didn't mean it to sound funny!"

"You just wanted to be friendly."

There was a long silence.

"I wasn't going to try anything, Luce, honest!"

"Luce?"

"It suits you."

Lucy pursed her lips, her analytical brain ticking over and fighting a losing battle with her heart and strangely overactive hormones. At length she said: "So, the burning question right now is whether I might like you back? And either way, am I willing to risk taking a job working for a firm in which you are a partner? Especially when both the senior partner and the managing partner are ambivalent about the situation…"

"They're not! They think it's hilarious—well, gramps does and Erza kept muttering 'how cute! how cute!' and then threatening to kill me if I hurt you."

"I still think it may be against the Code of Conduct somewhere," frowned Lucy.

"And… she's back to the Law Society!" Natsu looked frustrated now.

Lucy took a deep breath and put her hands on Natsu's face. His eyes—now mostly green—went very wide. "To hell with the Law Society!" With a strange, half-drunk feeling, Lucy closed her eyes and brought Natsu's lips against hers. It didn't surprise her at all to find them very warm and very sexy—just like the rest of him.

Natsu relaxed slowly against her, and his lips parted slightly, returning her kiss. Lucy moved her hands from his cheeks to his shoulders. Careful not to break the kiss, Natsu slid off his seat onto the floor so that he could wrap his arms around her. She could feel his solid chest against her breasts now, and his blunt-fingered hands on her back and in her hair. She couldn't believe what she was doing, but for once she told her cautious self to shut the fuck up.

Time passed, and the kiss deepened. They got better at it as they went along, until the first gentle pressure of lips was something entirely different and much more exciting. Lucy felt as though all the nerves in her skin had come alive at once. Somehow she'd ended up in Natsu's lap, and she was very good with that.

"Is this… okay?" Natsu mumbled at length, when they paused to breathe. He leaned his forehead against hers. "I hope it's okay."

"Me too," Lucy said vaguely. "It's all your fault for talking law to me."

"Torts."

"Not just for dessert anymore!" Lucy giggled at the old, old joke.

"Mens rea."

"I think so."

"What?"

"I think I understood and intended to commit the actus reus."

"So you are fully guilty of kissing me." Natsu tugged lightly on a lock of soft golden hair. "I don't think that's a crime though."

"I just figured that you couldn't take advantage of me if I took advantage of you first."

"What if I only want you for your lightsaber?"

"That's my line."

Natsu blushed. Lucy figured she'd been red from the start, so it was only fair. She took the opportunity to ask a question.

"So… did Gray really win millions by moonlighting in an online computer game tournament?"

Natsu eyed her warily. "Maybe. Why?"

"You're right, that's pretty geeky—or is it nerdy?" Lucy smiled at Natsu, for no other reason than that she was happy.

"I was on his team," Natsu muttered.

"Sorry? You'll have to speak up—I missed what you said over the sound of me laughing at you."

"Nintendo baby."

"Try me at MarioKart, Pepto B."

"Hey! What?! No—Luce!"

"Seriously though, when do you guys sleep?"

"When we can. Well, I do. As for Gray, well… the ice never rests…"

"So he does play hockey?"

"Of course. Fortunately, we figure that he was replaced with a robot years ago, so he doesn't pass out from exhaustion as crucial moments."

"So you don't play hockey?"

Natsu looked embarrassed. "They kicked me off the team partway through the first season, two years ago."

"Should I sue for wrongful dismissal?"

"Um… no. There may have been some—slight—cause." Natsu silenced her next question with a kiss. This time one hand slid under the back of Lucy's shirt to caress the soft skin of her back and waist, and there was no further conversation for quite a while.

They parted, very reluctantly, at midnight.

"You're a failure as a study partner," noted Lucy, examining various hickeys with a combination of embarrassment and satisfaction. "I still don't understand constructive trusts properly."

"Nobody does," Natsu assured her. "But if you're worried, gramps could talk to Prof Porly about it?"

"Prof… Porly?"

"Well, apparently she and Makarov go way back."

"I'll pass on the intervention. I'll bet Gray understands constructive trusts."

Natsu gave her a severe look. "You really know how to hurt a guy, don't you?"

Lucy sighed. "Sorry, Natsu. But… I've been trying to make a difficult decision…"

Natsu could sense that she was serious, and took her hand. "Tell me."

"I'm going to turn down M&V's offer."

"What?! No—Lucy, you belong with us!"

"Natsu." Lucy leaned up to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "It's just for the summer. I can find something else. Maybe work for one of the profs instead of at a firm."

"Because of me?"

"Because of us."

All pretence of joking had already dropped from Natsu's face, but now he looked especially unhappy. "I wish you wouldn't do this, Lucy. And it's not… it's not necessary."

"It is for me."

Natsu studied her. Two years of keeping an eye on her had given him insight into her moods. He'd classify this one as "smiling but stubborn".

"I feel like a total jerk. If I hadn't said anything… we could've at least been friends, you know? And you could've worked at Fairy Tail with a clear conscience."

"Until I ripped your shirt off…"

"Would you?"

Lucy laughed. "You look so hopeful!" Then she shrugged uncomfortably. "Which kind of proves my point. I just… can't have both, Natsu. Please don't make it harder."

Natsu looked down. After a short time, he nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry I messed things up for you."

"How? By existing and being the person that—gods know why—I want to be with?"

"Oi! That wasn't exactly flattering!"

"Your self-confidence can take it."

"Okay, Luce. So… you'll go out with me, then?"

"Yes."

"And you'll join the firm as soon as you're qualified?"

"As long as Erza and Mr. Makarov still want me, yes."

There was a longish interval that didn't involve words.

"Goodnight, Natsu."

"Night, Luce!" He swung himself onto the window ledge.

"Wait—Natsu!" When he paused, Lucy asked the one question she'd forgotten earlier. "How did you make it up here—and in sandals—and how are you going to manage a thirty-foot drop?"

Natsu smiled a little. "You'll find out when you join Fairy Tail, Lucy Heartfilia. Until then, well—you're the one who said she could be patient."

He was gone on the final word, and there was no terrible crunch of broken flesh and bones.

We'll see, Natsu Dragneel. I'll bet I figure it out before then. I've done a lot of reading about Fairy Tail. And at least one place mentioned "magic". Maybe it wasn't such a cracked theory after all.

Smiling to herself in a way that she hadn't in years, Lucy got ready for bed.

[END]

A/Note: I hope you've enjoyed this quirky little brain-child of mine. All comments and reviews are very much appreciated, and thank you for all your support through likes, kudos, follows and faves!

~Impracticaldemon

Tags: @nalufever  @shell-senji  @sabinasanfanfic  @walk-tall-my-fr1ends @kazama-hime @nalu-natic @naluloverforever @strawberrysweetlove35

@eliz1369  @very-x-vice @hakusaitosan @ftfanfics @fic-writer-appreciation

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 22

<- Previous Chapter

Obi wan stood in the hanger of one of many rebel bases scattered around the galaxy. When he'd taken Luke to Tatooine all those years ago, he'd known that he'd be called on again for help. He'd just never imagined it like this. With everything going on, he'd hardly had time to process it. He'd spent as much time meditating as he could. Still trying to train with Qui-Gon although everything he'd been preparing for had changed.

As he watched people and droids bustling about, his eyes fell on Luke and Leia. Had he ever given much thought to what they'd be like? Had he secretly hoped that Luke would be like their father, minus the baggage of course? He wasn't sure. Every time he looked at them, he remembered Padmé breathless and crying out in pain. And him holding two tiny babies that were all that was left of his apprentice and his best friend; the one person he loved more than any other. Master Yoda had been right. He had attachment issues too.

In hindsight, he'd given no thought to what training Anakin would mean except that Qui-Gon had made him promise to do so. Obi wan had never felt comfortable with the Chosen One prophecy. He'd had an ominous feeling about it from the first moment he'd heard of it. So when his master had claimed that boy was it, the feeling had sprung forth again in an attempt to devour him. He'd beat it back trying to employ logic to fight it; he was just a boy. How much power could one person truly have; destiny designed by the force or not?

It was clear from day one that Anakin had incredible potential. It scared him. He could do things almost immediately that most had to spend hours, sometimes weeks, of training to manage. He had often been both impressed and unnerved. He'd done his best to teach him calm and balance, but the start of the war made that difficult. Anakin had trained hard, throwing everything he had into learning it all. But he had also been willful and hard to reach. And worst of all, Anakin thrived in the war and conflict.

They'd finally been making progress when Padmé had re-entered his life. Everything had spiraled out of control from there. Anakin became moody, distracted, even hostile and openly rebellious. Master Yoda had insisted that he break their attachment to each other. And he had tried, but circumstances of the war had continuously thrown them back together over and over again. In spite of assurances from both sides that they'd stop, it had continued. And the more Obi wan tried to influence Anakin and regain control over the situation, the more distant his apprentice became.

He'd hoped Anakin would overcome it. That it was just a phase. After all, he'd had his share growing up. But none of them had ever blinded him to his responsibility as a Jedi; not completely anyways. He strayed a few times, admittedly, but he always found his way back. The Jedi order was his life. A Jedi was all he could be. He had believed Anakin would come to realize that too.

But try as he might to get through to him, his warnings to Anakin had only fallen on deaf ears. Unable to convince Anakin to let go of Padmé, he and Master Yoda had formulated another plan; distract him. Give him a responsibility that would keep him so busy he didn't have time to think about her. They thought they were so clever putting a handful such as Ahsoka in his lap, because the distraction worked... or so they had thought. Anakin had hardly mentioned Padmé after Ahsoka had come along. He had spent half his time chasing after his padawan. There were still hints of course, that he hadn't completely lost interest in the senator, but it wasn't like it once had been.

Anakin started gaining more control and really began to mature after becoming a teacher himself. Obi wan had such faith that he'd come around and become everything he believed he could be. He was still reckless, and of course, Ahsoka tended to make that worse, but over all, the council had believed they'd solved their problem. Minor acts of rebellion and disobedience were much easier to deal with than a powerful force wielder that couldn't control his emotions.

As the war had pulled them further and further apart, Obi wan had been forced to rely on faith that Anakin would be okay. As much trouble as Ahsoka could be, she had somehow managed to become a person that Anakin would listen to. And she certainly never hesitated to put him in his place if he did something untoward. Obi wan just had to hope that it would be enough to keep Anakin on the straight and narrow. She had attachment issues too, but she was still malleable enough to listen and learn from other masters and put it into practice. But then she'd left the Jedi order, and Anakin had gone downhill again. Again he'd become moody, impatient, angry. Always wanting more, not listening, never trusting anyone.

Luke finished his conversation with his friends and headed towards him. Obi wan sighed. Here he was reminiscing, yet again; unable to fully understand all that had gone wrong that had led them to this point. He was glad Anakin was alive. He was glad he was no longer Darth Vader. But all attempts to rekindle their past friendship had failed. Try as he might, he couldn't reconcile all that Anakin had done in his conscience. Now, he was like an unknown quantity. Maybe he always had been one.

"Do you think Ahsoka will make it?" Luke asked him.

"I don't know," Obi wan replied honestly. He'd done all he could to find something to help her. He'd gone a lot of sleepless nights tracking down any old contacts he could. He hated the idea of leaving Anakin there to deal with the possible outcome alone. Afraid of what he'd find when they returned. Anakin still demonstrated much of his anger and recklessness when it came to Ahsoka. Yet he also seemed more accepting of things that were out of his control. He didn't like the fact that they were a couple now. In his opinion, it was a really bad idea. But at the same time, Ahsoka somehow managed to keep Anakin in control. At least when she wasn't hurt or in danger herself. Would Anakin survive without her?

"Father said that Jedi aren't supposed to form attachments. But is it really wrong to care that much?" Luke asked.

"Compassion is essential to a Jedi's way of life," Obi wan replied. "But feeling for others and wanting to help them, is not the same as having an ongoing relationship with them. Relationships create bonds, bonds create devotion and devotion distracts from duty."

"So I'm not supposed to have a relationship with my sister? Or my father? Or my friends? What's the point then? I mean, I get the responsibility of helping wherever you can, but if you have nothing to come back to? Nothing to make it worth the fight? Why bother?"

Obi wan swallowed his immediate ingrained response of 'helping is the point'. "The problem with attachment is not about what you have or don't have off the battle field, it's about being able to do what's right even if it means losing someone you love. Sometimes you have to sacrifice one, to save thousands."

"Those are lousy options," Luke said.

"Imagine if you and your sister were fighting side by side. Say, she's in danger but you still have a chance to stop the threat to a whole village. Could you let her go and complete the mission?"

"I'd help her first."

"So you saved her, but meanwhile, another foe had the opportunity to blow up the village. Thousands of lives lost." Obi wan persisted.

"I'd make them pay." Luke said angrily.

"Revenge is not the Jedi way."

"So let me get this straight," Leia said, joining them. "Jedi run in, give their all to save people they don't know. Are forced to let the ones they do know, and love, fall, and then are not even allowed to respond to the horrendous act of violence that just occurred, regardless of who they managed to save? That's a load of hoodoo if you ask me."

"That's not exactly what I meant," Obi wan said, but was interrupted by the boarding announcement. It was time to go.

Leia kissed Luke on the cheek and wished him luck and then headed off to a different ship, Anakin's astromech droid trailing behind her. Obi wan and Luke would be traveling together.

"I think if Jedi are supposed to help people, they should care more about the people they're saving than how many." Luke whispered and then jogged ahead to wish another person luck before boarding their ship.

–-

The ride to Scarif was a long one. Obi wan didn't try to finish the conversation in the hanger with Luke. He was so out of practice from teaching and had so many of his own questions and doubts. He wondered if Luke would be more open minded had he either not found his sister or been talking to Anakin.

They had to make three jumps to get to their destination. One pit stop for fuel, the second stop was a rendezvous point. Obi wan was mulling over the plan he'd been briefed on. He didn't like it at all. Right now, Scarif was the most imperial occupied territory around. It guarded all of their secrets and movements. Other rebel cells had been scouting for information, scavenging to find anything they could. He'd heard the news about Jedha from Bail himself. The Death Star's main weapon was operational. And so was its hyperdrive. If they couldn't find the schematics... or a weakness... nowhere would be safe. They were running out of time. Even if the emperor was dead, there were still plenty of corrupted officers vying for the position. There was little hope of restoring the Republic until they were stopped.

They reached the coordinates for the rendezvous, but their communications were jammed the moment they entered the sector along with their scanners. Only a few people knew they were meeting here, how could the empire have learned of it?

A ship docked with theirs. Obi wan was on guard in an instant. "Luke!?" He called. He felt the disturbance, long before he saw him.

"Let me go!" Luke yelled from the aft of the ship. Obi wan raced in that direction.

"Let the boy go." Obi wan told Maul sounding calmer than he felt.

"Kenobi." Maul drawled. "I've found you at last."

"Let him go!" Obi wan said again, drawing his lightsaber in the ataru form, just as Qui-Gon always used to.

"I've waited a long time for this. My need for revenge has kept me alive." Maul threw Luke to the side and paced back and forth sideways across from Obi wan.

"Well then you will be unsatisfied." Obi wan replied, watching Maul carefully.

"I have so many new toys in my arsenal. Tell me, Kenobi, did your lady Jedi die yet? How about I do the same to this boy here. Since you're so fond of him and all."

Luke leapt towards Maul with his lightsaber. Maul, ducked below the first swing, spun around and ran him in a circle into a pile of crates.

Obi wan raced towards him and swung hard distracting Maul from Luke.

"Finally got yourself a new apprentice I see. Couldn't live with the failure of your last one?" Maul taunted.

Obi wan jumped back and both him and Maul glared at each other. He was situated between Maul and Luke.

He resumed the ataru position bringing his hand down, gripping his blue lightsaber with both hands and slightly off center. Then he raised it to the soresu form, shoulder height, horizontal, his left hand extended out parallel with two fingers ready to move. Maul raised his double bladed red saber, turning it menacingly in his hand. The tension rose as Obi wan studied Maul's every twitch preparing for his attack. Finally he lowered his lightsaber and faked a thrust low trying to bring the hilt up to hit Obi wan in the face. It was the same move he'd used to deliver the lethal blow to Qui-Gon. But Obi wan had feinted too and brought his lightsaber straight down through the hilt of Maul's, cutting it in half while slicing a long deep, blow down his chest.

Maul's eyes widened in disbelief and then he fell forward into Obi wan who caught him and lowered him down. "He's not just any boy, is he?" Maul sputtered breathlessly. Obi wan shook his head. "Then he has brought hope at last." He went still as the life faded from him. Obi wan reached up and closed his eyelids; sorrow permeating his soul.

Maul may have always been his adversary. He may have killed his master. But it pained him to imagine what he must have suffered to end up like this. As he looked up at Luke who was standing over them, he realized that it was time to understand Anakin's suffering. Not just brush it aside. Anakin had become just like Maul. And no matter what master Yoda had said, it was time to ask why.

"Is he really dead this time?" Luke asked nervously. "Dad said you cut him in half before and he still survived."

"Yes," Obi wan replied.

"But you're sad." Luke observed. "Did you care about him?"

"I pitied him," Obi wan responded. "But first, I'd hated him. It's unfortunate that this is how we had to mend the old wound."

"What did he mean about the failure of your last apprentice?" Luke asked.

"Did your father not tell you?" Obi wan replied surprised.

"That's kind of a running theme with him."

Obi wan smiled at the thought, "yeah, he was never really good at talking about important things. Your father was my student. I trained him from a small boy, much younger than you are now."

"So my father turning to the dark side is how he failed you, then?"

Obi wan sighed. "I want to say yes, he did fail me. But perhaps... I'm the one that failed him." He looked down at Maul; a truly broken soul, inside and out. He wondered what his master had done to him. And if he'd done the same to Anakin.

–-

"Anakin? Can you read me?" Obi wan's voice came through the comm. Anakin wiped his greasy hands on his pants and climbed out of the engineering shaft he had been working in. He was trying to get this bucket of bolts to go faster.

"I read you, master." He said flipping the switch so the blue transparent holo image of Obi wan came into view.

"Good, I wasn't sure the signal would reach far enough to get to you." Obi wan said, his image glitched for a moment and Anakin turned a knob to boost the signal. He wished Artoo was here, but he'd sent the little droid with Leia to watch over her. Obi wan would be with Luke. "We ran into an old friend on the way to Scarif, I think I know where the Kaminoans are."

"Where?" Anakin asked tensing. He'd had to guess based on Obi wan's information, which direction to head in. They'd encountered Maul near Ilum, but Kamino was at least a week in the opposite direction. Even though he knew Kamino had been shut down, he'd headed that direction first.

"According to the computer, Maul was headed towards a planet called Rothana. It's best known for its heavy machinery factories, but there's large sectors of it unexplored. It might be a good place to start. Oh and I also learned what Maul was doing on Ilum."

"Oh?"

"His notes indicate that he was missing one ingredient from the virus he infected Ahsoka with. He needed kyber crystals. Something about their force properties combined with the virus would destroy the midchlorians, not simply block them. Obviously I'm not an expert, but if he didn't give her the complete version, there's a chance she'll be able to recover her force powers." Obi wan reported.

"Master, I just want to keep her alive first. At this point, the other would be a bonus."

"I understand," Obi wan replied comfortingly. "Be careful, Anakin."

"You too. May the force be with you all." Anakin shut down the link and sighed. It wasn't much but it was more than he already had. He wanted to hope they could reverse the damage Maul had caused to her senses, but he had to make sure she lived long enough for that chance first.

He reset the nav computer for Rothana, which thankfully was in the same direction he'd already been heading, and went back to work tinkering. There wasn't a lot he could do to improve this junk heap, but at least it kept his mind occupied.

Ever since he'd stopped being Vader, he'd been struggling to make his own decisions. He still found himself hoping others would provide the direction for him. Growing up as a slave had made him despise being ordered around and yet, after so many years of still obeying others, it was scary to have people letting him make up his own mind. Sometimes old habits kicked in and he knew strategically how to respond to a situation and people would listen and usually follow his recommendations. But other times, when he knew there were things he should be doing, like helping the rebellion destroy the Death Star, he found himself withdrawing. Needing to head in a different direction. He wanted to be the good person everybody hoped he could be again... but something had been eating away at him; a thought, perhaps? Maybe a doubt? Could you be a good person and still go your own way? Or did being a good person always mean being selfless?

He was all too familiar with what the Jedi had taught. And the Sith had gone the complete opposite direction. But was there a middle ground? Was there truly balance? Could you be all one way and not the other or did everyone have both inside? As a Jedi, he'd tried to be good and live by their code, but there was always something else. A monster or a dragon. Something he couldn't fully ignore or deny. But even when he'd been Vader, there must have still been good in him or Ahsoka would have died long ago.

But Ahsoka was the lucky one. If you could call all she'd been through, lucky. Others had not made it as far. Could he really call himself good? Even if he had spared her? That didn't seem like the definition of good. She believed in him so much, it made him want to believe in himself. Starting to really get to know his kids, made him want to be a better person. And Obi wan, probably the one he'd damaged the most, was still supporting him, still helping him, still there for him. What had he ever done to deserve that loyalty? Ahsoka had told him if he felt undeserving, he diminished the power of their love. But whether he wanted to believe he deserved a second chance or not... he knew he didn't. The things he'd done were just too terrible.

The nightmares had been hounding him for years, but they'd been on a rampage since they'd killed the emperor. He'd remember the Son on Mortis. He'd remember the fear and screams from the children in the temple. He'd remember choking Padmé and Ahsoka. He'd see himself lying in the ash; feel the pain of the fire on his skin, the gnawing loss of everything he'd ever known. But the worst one, was that of his mother. Finding her so broken and close to death. Beaten, tortured in so much pain. In the nightmares, it was his hands that had committed the atrocity. It was his hands not killing the Tuskens, but killing her. There was always so much blood in these dreams. Simply by existing, he'd brought pain and suffering to everyone he'd ever met.

There was nowhere in the galaxy that he could run to that would save them. Nothing he could ever do to make up for it. Obi wan should have killed him. Ahsoka should have killed him. The emperor should have killed him. Why was he still alive?

He thought of Ahsoka in the hibernation chamber back on Alderaan. If he died now, so would she. He was still alive, because of love... His love for them kept him moving forward or their love for him had stayed their blade. If only he'd understood that sooner. Then maybe none of those people ever would have died. "I was wrong, Padmé." He choked. "Love could have saved you, but instead..." he couldn't finish the thought as the guilt overwhelmed him. He huddled down in the engineering pit and cried into his knees.

Next Chapter ->

[garden-ghoul]

return of the blog, part 2

“...”

THE PASSING OF THE GREY COMPANY

Merry is hanging out with the tracking party, feeling a bit lost and very useless-baggage-y. What’s going to happen, Aragorn? Well, Aragorn is being very dramatic, bless him. “Do not look for mirth at the ending. It will be long, I fear, ere Théoden sits at ease again in Meduseld. Many hopes will wither in this bitter Spring.” Oh, Aragorn.

Four riders are trying to catch up to the Rohirrim; everyone is, of course, very suspicious, but it turns out the leader is Aragorn’s good old friend Halbarad, a ranger and Dunadan! And Elrond’s cool sons are with him! They brought thirty dudes to help in the war effort. Like I’m sure they’re very skilled and all but. Thirty dudes. You take what you can I guess. Apparently they received a summons from Galadriel after Gandalf was resurrected. Everyone is back at Helm’s Deep now (I missed them actually going there), mainly I mention this because there now exists a place called THE DEATH DOWN, where the huorns killed just massive amounts of people.

Theoden is holding one last feast before they all go to war; he tells Merry he shall ride with him!

‘May I?’ said Merry, surprised and delighted. ‘That would be splendid!’ He had never felt more grateful for any kindness in words. ‘I am afraid I am only in everybody’s way,’ he stammered; ‘but I should like to do anything I could, you know.’

He’s such a good kid. Theoden says he’s going to be king’s squire! Not sure why, the eve of a colossal war is not really the best time to be sparing people’s feelings of uselessness. Or maybe he’s trying to free up whoever is his current squire to kill some people? You don’t do that sort of thing for no reason is all I’m saying. Anyway, in a stupendously clear parallel to last chapter, Merry lays his sword at Theoden’s feet and swears fealty. I loove the contrast between Pippin swearing fealty to a lord he doesn’t really like out of obligation and gratitude; and then Merry swearing fealty to a lord he very much admires out of a desperation to somehow be useful. Pippin’s rather awe-filled reception at Minas Tirith contrasts with Merry’s anxieties about being a burden. Then there’s this:

‘As a father you shall be to me,’ said Merry.

‘For a little while,’ said Théoden.

AWKWARD. Merry why must you. Anyway Aragorn comes up and tells Theoden he’s going to take the Paths of the Dead (everyone in earshot shivers) despite having said a couple paragraphs ago that he would have to be REALLY DESPERATE to do that. Theoden’s company rides off; Aragorn is like “wow I love Merry so much, he’s such a good and important person.” And everyone else agrees: “hobbits are super important and I love them.” I think it’s supposed to stand in contrast to Merry’s own poor opinion of himself, but I’m not really sure why they have such a high opinion of him. Just because he’s brave? Shrug. Aragorn also says he looked into the palantir and had a staring contest with Sauron to wig him out. “I’m the heir of Elendil,” he said. “Here’s Narsil! Right here! Remember her, motherfucker?” And Sauron, reportedly, went “Oh fuck.”

Then Aragorn explains why he’s going thru the Paths of the Dead. You probably know already, so I won’t relate it here. There is a seer involved though, which is pretty cool. Some oathbreaking. Very Numenorean honestly, these dead Men of the Mountains remind me of the Faithless, in that the reason for their oathbreaking is a new unexpected allegiance to Sauron. And with that exposition, the “greay company” is off! For some reason they make it to Edoras long before Theoden does, and Aragorn comes to say hi to Eowyn. 

When she heard of the battle in Helm’s Deep and the great slaughter of their foes, and of the charge of Théoden and his knights, then her eyes shone.

I see what gogol means. Eowyn is gay for Deeds. She also conceptualizes being the ruler of Edoras and sorta Rohan as “exile,” because WHY would you want to rule anything when you could be killing people??? The next time we hear a description of Eowyn it’s that “her eyes were on fire.” Why did baby ghoul relate so much to Eowyn? Up until now I thought it was because she was the only TV lady who had freckles like me, but actually maybe it was her nebulous gender dysphoria and frustration. She is SO frustrated. First she offers to ride with Aragorn on his death errand. He refuses her; she’s the ruler of the Mark. BITTER. BITTER BITTER BITTER. WHY DOES EOWYN ALWAYS GET LEFT BEHIND? IS SHE NOT A SHIELD-MAIDEN? This is a good exchange:

‘A time may come soon,’ said he, ‘when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised.’

And she answered: ‘All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.’

Get him, Eowyn. I mean, it IS essential to make sure non-combatants in Rohan stay safe and such, but Eowyn is right that she shouldn’t be forced into the unpraised deeds just because she’s a woman. Before you say such things, Aragorn, maybe start a culture of praising valiant deeds that don’t involve killing anyone?? Then we’ll talk.

Once again as Aragorn’s company rides away we get the same exact image of Eowyn standing and watching them go... this time filled with tension and anger, her fists clenched and tears in her eyes. Aragorn is sad about it. Whatever, dude. We timeskip to the entrance of the Path of the Dead, where the Dunedain are gentlly coaxing their horses in through the awful doorway. Legolas has to enchant his horse to get it to go in. Gimli is left alone outside, possibly the only one who feels so viscerally how wrong this underground passage is compared to what it should be. I think his fear is greater for the fact that he has never felt uneasy underground before; it’s like home, perverted into something dreadful. As they go forward Aragorn calls the dead. No-one answers, but Legolas can see them riding behind. As they ride through Morthond Vale I am getting the impression that there are living humans there? And they are afraid because, like, the king of the dead. Aragorn and co ride hell for leather for the Stone of Erech.

The Stone of Erech is an enormous black sphere, half buried in the ground, that for some reason was brought out of Numenor. Like... you didn’t have anything better to bring on your ships than an enormous black sphere of stone? Anyway this is the site of the oath that was broken, and now the dead are ready to fulfill it and have peace after like 3000 years. “When all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled,” he says. Which is pretty harsh. Like, what if a hundred years from now there’s just one servant of Sauron remaining? That would just suck for everyone. Also he unfurls a banner Arwen made for him, which is apparently black on black. Love it. Very stylish. So that’s the muster of the dead. What about

THE MUSTER OF ROHAN?

This bit is confusing because I thought it was going to be Pippin POV but then as soon as they mentioned the Rohirrim had made it to Gondor it turned into Merry POV. I never have a good intuition for what things Tolkien will think it’s reasonable to skip... Wait no they didn’t make it to Gondor. They just about made it to Edoras. This is very confusing and I have poor reading comprehension. The point is Merry is sad and lonely because everyone’s speaking Rohir or whatever and he misses all his friends and absolutely everyone he knows. The party reaches Harrowdale and climbs up a super steep path for some reason; it’s lined with Pukel Men, monoliths carved into a human shape. Ahhhh I love standing stones, Heck I love standing stones. They’re from the “dark years” (when Numenor was still going on and thus Real People weren’t in Middle Earth ::P) and some unknown people made this place, Dunharrow. OH. Here’s Eowyn! The reason they’re here is because Edoras has been evacuated, and Theoden wanted to check on his people.

While Theoden and his peeps are having dinner a messenger from Gondor comes in and Merry is like BOROMIR??? WTF. But no, he just can’t tell Gondorians apart haha. Also what was the point of the beacons if Denethor was just going to send a messenger straight to Theoden. Theoden promises 6000 guys (not bad! that’s twice the entire Gondor) in one week, though the messenger says a week will probably be too late. Still, he says sarcastically, maybe you can disturb the orcs feasting on our corpses.

Merry wakes up the next day in the darkness; the sun will not rise today. Or if it does nobody will see it, because Sauron has sent a great wave of black clouds across the sky to embolden his troops. Dreamy. Theoden is releasing Merry from his service (yes, after three days, what a copout) to serve Eowyn here while she rules the noncombatant Rohirrim. Merry is. Sad. He wants to help! Even if he has to be tied to a horse! But no dice. Eowyn takes him off to arm himself anyway. Thanks Eowyn you are a true bro. As Theoden’s company leaves, they sing a song that is clearly based on Anglo Saxon epic poetry, and also I believe was not meant to be sung. So. Minus points, Johnald. It doesn’t sound like a song, it doesn’t scan like a song. It’s a nice poem, though. A nice lad called Dernhelm offers to bear Merry on his horse and hide him since Theoden won’t take him. Thanks for showing us Eowyn’s exact transition goals, it’s good.