#and in the meantime these remind me of where i was a year ago compared to now

[variousqueerthings]

@artofmaquenda

😭

you sent me both

can I justify spending 80 pounds on art.........

[thommi-tomate]

Interview with Thomas (January 9, 2011)

By: Andreas Burkert for Süddeutsche Zeitung

Mr. Müller, where is the Golden Shoe for the best World Cup shooter?

At home, in my games room, where the dartboard and Play Station are. Everything that has now accumulated is on the windowsill. Before it gets dusty in the boxes, I'd rather put it outside.

The reason for your award, Germany's World Cup performance in South Africa, was part of every annual review. Did you watch it when this Müller suddenly walks through the picture?

Of course I've also seen Müller in a few previews. But I don't necessarily have to watch the whole thing. The year went really well and I'm always reminded of that, even if I forget about it; I can't avoid it anymore. But it's over now. I can't buy anything for it anymore. Now I have to prove myself again.

What came up in your personal review of 2010 on New Year's Eve?

It was the World Cup. But there wasn't just one moment for me, there were so many great moments.

You only made your debut for the national team just under ten months ago, in Munich against Argentina.

Yes, that was special. When I heard the national anthem, I thought: Now I've made it, now I'm really where I want to be - (A German tourist of an older age approaches the table and wants an autograph. Müller asks for her understanding that he can't now, but will be happy to do so later) - Well, since the World Cup, even those who don't know much about soccer recognize you.

Just older ladies?

Nah, nah, all the age-group are already there.

Does at least your grandma, who you greeted on TV after the round of 16 against England, have some peace now?

In the meantime, yes. The problem was that my parents, my grandma and the people here in Pähl didn't have a media manager like we did at Bayern or the DFB. But I was back home over the Christmas period and everything was nice and quiet.

People who know you well say: Müller, he doesn't take off, not even now, he doesn't drive a Ferrari yet. Don't you have a quirk? And how do you reward yourself after a year like that?

I once asked myself the same question. We have a great sponsor, so I don't need a new car. But I do sometimes walk past watch stores, but then I see that they are sometimes really expensive. Then I'd rather not, it's not worth it to me. I'm also not a bird of paradise who dyes her hair. My wife rides, which has now become important for us. Apart from that, I really do have everything. I'd have to make my own problems if I wanted to have any.

Do you ride yourself?

I tried it out a year and a half ago. Well, I didn't fall off directly, but I felt sorry for the horse afterwards. The risk is too big for me and the horse.

2011 has started for you with the loss of a title: You no longer have the thinnest legs.

You mean because of Luiz Gustavo? Well, we haven't measured his thighs yet, but it's possible. People always joke about my legs, I know they always have. But don't worry, my mother has already noticed that they don't break much. They were never a problem for me, in fact I think they helped me, even when I was younger. Because if you don't just have your body to fight back with, you also have to use your brain to run certain routes to avoid direct duels.

Is that how this urge came about? Müller goes up top, to where the ball suddenly appears?

Certain things are certainly trained automatisms. But often it's a certain instinct, a feeling for the spaces. I'm glad to have this ability.

In any case, it's difficult to compare your style with another player. Do you perhaps know one?

No, I am somehow unique. There are dribblers who are pretty similar, strikers too, but what am I actually?

Yes, what is Müller?

Hm. Well, what am I? A Raumdeuter (space interpreter) ? Yes, I'm a Raumdeuter. That would be a good title, wouldn't it?

In any case. Because, if I may say so, you do score goals, but particularly beautiful ones are rare. But you are there.

That's true, I'm not known for scoring beautiful goals. But the important thing is when it's in. I've often been accused of being lucky, but if it happens five times in a row at the World Cup, there must be another reason for it

Your former amateur coach Hermann Gerland once said: "Müller can play like shit for 90 minutes - but then he scores a goal.

The statement is correct. I consciously take risks in my game, I often try things on the direct route towards goal that are perhaps great in terms of the idea, but difficult to execute. Mistakes happen, but you have to say to yourself: no more, next time I'll try again. Reviews sometimes say: He tried a lot but didn't succeed. Yes, then it just didn't work out. I try a lot, and there are a lot of rejects. I know that, and that's why I don't drive myself crazy.

Did you get the impression after the World Cup that your opponents adjusted better to your unconventional style?

Not really. The first half of the season was a bit different, I mainly played on the right or left. It just didn't go well for the team overall, no individual player was able to break away from the trend, not even me.

Your roles change frequently. Where would you have Müller play?

I would put Müller behind the front line, which is the position at Bayern that is closer to the opponent's goal and therefore more dangerous. I can penetrate the gaps better from there. You have to be more tactically disciplined on the right and left, and the number seven position in the national team is a different right than at Bayern, because the DFB always swap sides with Mesut Özil. I need a bit of freedom to be able to play on the left or right. That's why I see myself behind the front ten. But I'm versatile and also like to play other roles.

Van Gaal said last season: "Müller always plays for me". Has this confidence made your rise possible?

He didn't even need to make that statement. Because I always had the feeling that he was counting on me.

How did you notice that, his confidence? A year ago it was said that some players were afraid of van Gaal.

Oh, I like talking like him too. He wants to create a certain amount of friction, which is why he prefers his way of talking. I really like his direct manner, we're similar in that respect

You, but also other players, were unusually outspoken in your support of the coach during the critical fall weeks. Out of gratitude?

No, there was no agreement between us, but I think everyone deliberately supported the coach. You could have asked each player individually, independently of each other, and everyone would have told you how convinced they were of him and his philosophy. Of course, in a squad of 25, there is dissatisfaction from players who don't play. But even colleagues like Hamit Altintop or even Martin Demichelis have spoken positively about the coach. And when you see what's happening here in Doha at the training camp, how they're stepping on the gas: This team really enjoys working with this coach.

Were you not worried when President Hoeneß was sharply critical and things were tight with the headstrong coach?

Not really, and after the contract extension I had the feeling that the club management was counting on him. We were all very happy about that, and the coach was also pleased that he had the support of the whole team. That's why there was never any talk of a rift between players and coach.

Then you would actually have to persuade van Gaal to stay as long as you and the others who have now signed such long-term contracts.

I think if push comes to shove, you might be able to do something about it. However, the pressure here in Munich is certainly exhausting and I don't think you can be Bayern coach for ten years without damaging your health.

At 21, you are part of the Lahm/Schweinsteiger generation, which is gradually replacing the Ballack generation. What are the differences?

Football-wise, that's certainly a level. But I think even Michael Ballack experienced different times as a young player when it was more difficult to integrate into teams. There are now many young coaches who bring in their philosophy, with a flatter hierarchy. That perhaps makes it easier for us young players today.

At 21, you've already achieved a lot. What else is there to come?

I want to bite down hard, at a very high level. In ten years' time, I want to say that I've always played at the very top for a decade and my body has endured it, and fortunately so has my head. That's my main goal.

[minipax]

A few weeks ago i've watched this film

psa: you can watch it on Netflix, it's really beautiful and i loved it

It tells the story about two boys (Leo and Remi) that are friends since they were kids (a friendship that reminded me a lot to byler and now knowing that we'll have 8 year old byler/miwi flashbacks it'll probably we have some scenes that are going to parallel some scenes of this movie even though the duffers don't have this movie as their inspiration) and how this friendship changes because of the pass from childhood to adolescence and the entering of high school, it appeals to some themes like the necessity of have a group when you're teenager and how other teens view the very fondly and deep friendship of the protagonists as if they were boyfriends when they're not. This a very briefly synopsis but it is enough to know about how friendship between boys changes with adolescence and how the plot of this movie can perfectly be translated to byler in some kind of way

But the point of this post is not that, the point of this post is that if someone here already watched this movie you probably noticed (as me) that the director used the bike rides as a resource to show the audience how Leo and Remi's friendship changes, how at the start they are very united and wait for the other to go together to school riding their bikes to the final where Leo doesn't wait Remi, how they are distancing from each other and how their friendship breaks a little with every bike ride scene.

So what i trying to say it's that considering that we already have crumbs of byler going to school together in their bikes and Maya Hawke saying that filming s5 feels like filming 8 movies, i think it would be very interesting to show something similar to the ride bike scenes of "Close" but a little different with byler: something that goes from friendly rides to more romantic and paused rides where they notice some physical features about the other that didn't pay attention before and that they think that makes them attractive and maybe a deep conversation (about the painting, all the shit they are living or their feelings, something like that)

And really, we don't how the duffers will manage to show the pass from byler friendship to a romantic relationship, we'll have to wait until s5 comes to know that

But in the meantime we are allowed to create our scenarios about byler, this is only another post from the million that is speculating about the byler future but with the difference that i compared with another movie that has a queer tone and themes similar to byler, so don't take it so seriously

[global-ethichive-network]

Hello, everyone - this is Ethen.

I must apologize for the distinct silence since my last post. As you've probably already seen, I haven't been particularly well within the past week - before or after what I attempted to do.

Conquering one's fear isn't always the easiest thing to do - even if that fear is one that should have been left behind as time continued to pass.

Despite what many outside of our order have assumed, I haven't had the greatest life growing up, even long after I thought I had moved on from something so traumatic in my earlier years - it isn't exactly something I'm particularly open about, as is the rest of my history. I've experienced much more than one person could handle on their own, which is why my mental state in this extraordinary series of events has been constantly... fading.

I can't handle loss - it's an extremely personal gripe that's tugged at me since childhood, and despite being able to talk about it before to select few, I don't think I could ever do it again on a larger scale like I tried to do just a while ago. It's not to say that I'm afraid that people would think I'm just making excuses or that I need to toughen up - it's not the first time I've been told that, believe me. Even our own members have tried to have that talk in a way that's more... constructive? Supportive? Either way, that's not why I don't talk about the worst days of my childhood.

I prefer to look at the positives - what made it worth living, as those were the days that kept me going and why I've always striven to be better. Before the world became what it is now, it was easier to look at all of my past in that light - easily able to recognize how all the bad that ever happened was just a small fraction that overshadowed everything else. But now? With all the suffering that people are barely able to overcome, it makes looking back on all the good feel... selfish. A reminder of how everyone's lives - whether good or bad, were completely flipped around by something far worse. Where we are and stand looks like heaven compared to the cold, bitter world that everyone else has to sit through with each passing day - and while I've tried to show my sympathies... there's nothing I have that could ever compare to that, and those that constantly berate us with death threats, pleads for help, or even their lives ending in an instant... it just adds on to the overbearing weight that we all have to bear here.

It's why I tried to initiate that recreated experience all those months back - before another troubling predicament fell upon our laps. There are people in this new world that are out on their own - lost and alone without their families and friends to help them through the chaos. I tried to reach out to them with it - showing that even we had so much on our hands when the Quake had struck. I knew people couldn't bear to sit without answers as to why our silence was so prevalent, but that's because it's still something we can't risk telling the full details behind. We thought that by finding the deeper answers to that situation, we could understand what was at stake... and we certainly did. But the final piece was something I simply couldn't open after the Outsider had cracked it's code.

That should have been the sign. More pain isn't something people need when trying their best to survive in the world... if they want answers, they expect it to be told. So... sometime tomorrow, my truth will be brought out.

But in the meantime - I will leave you with the circumstances that came on that world-shaking day.

After the first waves of tremors and earthquakes is when I noticed the encrypted file under my name on the Ethichive. I passed through it's defenses - but unlike everyone else with an encrypted entry, what I received was far more impossible...

It was an audio file - or at least, it appeared to be, as a voice on the other side spoke directly to me... and only continued to do so with my every word, like it were a call. Just from the method of communication alone, I had every reason to believe it was from our loathsome adversary... but this was a new voice, and his intentions were anything but hostile.

He spoke of the events that were just happening, as if he had more information or means of detecting what was happening to the world. I hoped he could have been of better help to us - maybe something that would lead us in the right direction, but apparently he was just as out of the loop as we all were - despite how much he knew of us.

And especially how much he knew of me.

I didn't know anything of this man's identity, but it was clear this wasn't any ordinary follower, member - hell, even likely not as ordinary of a person as we were... but given where we all came from, it wasn't hard for me to understand who or even what he was. And that alone was enough to tell me what was at stake when he told me;

"The Storm is subsiding. And a new Storm is coming."

I was scared - terrified, even, because I knew one thing for certain... we had to prepare for the end of the beginning.

It's only a matter of time before the next Calm, whatever it may be.

[honoredsage]

Troubled

Writing this on a Saturday night as opposed to a Sunday night just to make sure I get everything out of the way. If anything happens between this day and tomorrow that is worth noting, then I’ll just edit this. 

Edit: C'mon fuck me lmao. Read something again that adds ups to the shit I wrote about.

Work this week has been normal. It has its ups and downs but nothing too drastic that’s worth writing of. Actually, looking back it has more of ups and a lot of mundane things made me happy this week at work.

However, what I really wanted to write here is what happened a couple of days ago.

I just read something online which upset me. As per usual, I don’t even have the right to be upset in the first place and there’s a really good chance I’m just overthinking it. I’m aware I’m taking this too seriously but there are just instances where you can’t help it. 

Until now those thoughts are creeping into my mind here and there. I know I’m an overthinker but I also do have instances where I’m right. And if ever I’m right, I am in big trouble. Big, big trouble. I am fucked. 

Flashbacks of what happened last year keep popping in my head. If that is about to repeat, I actually do not know how to handle it. To be completely honest, it’s not a far cry to see myself going lower than last year and breaking down. That shit took a long a time for me to recover (Stupid Love reference). Was that my own fault? Yes. Is my current situation my own fault? Yes. But I believe that what I’m thinking and feeling right now are still valid. Logic would dictate that I should not be worried since no matter how long it took, I was able to move past that situation. However, as to plagiarize and tweak the quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald, I say “There are all kinds of pain in this world but never the same pain twice.”

It’s a double whammy because you’re reminded of what happened in the past, and you’re thinking that could happen again in the future, but worse. 

I do think this will pass somehow these coming days but it’s just eerie that these things are happening this time of the year again, which does not help in me thinking that something bad is going to happen. 

If I’ll look back into this, I’d rather be wrong and laugh at my past, pathetic self waiting for this impending doom that was never there to begin with. I won’t mind being wrong if it means I can be happy, at least for the meantime. 

I do not know what to expect for the next few days or weeks, but I’d be lying to myself if I say I won’t be thinking about that here and there. Man, that really is messing up my psyche. 

Lowkey thinking November is my Wednesday counterpart of the year. Shit starts to go wrong during this time. 

Right now, all I can do is pray. Pray that things will get better. Pray that some things will change. Pray that something just happens. 

Still, we’re going to get better. We won’t stop improving ourselves on all aspects of our life (Well, except height. Can’t change that shit unfortunately). I do think I’ve become a better person compared to who I was a year ago. I just really hope that these character development arcs would take at least a pause cause man, am I tired. A happy filler arc would not be too bad right now. 

On other news, I’m happy about the shoe that I bought from Lazada. I got worried when I saw the reviews because I saw that it was a women’s shoe which I didn’t know at the time of the purchase because the item had a wrong name on it. Luckily, Adidas (not sponsored) uses UK sizing which is universal and my feet isn’t too wide so the shoe still fits. 

I’ve been tilting on Tekken way too much these past few days. 

[grantairescurls]

i have many thoughts.

They are each other's wingman/woman (& silently judge Ragnar together when he's Up To Something)

I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS!!!!! Lagertha definitely goes to him to complain about her stupid husband every other day, at first Athelstan even tried to offer some advice but then he realized the poor woman just needs to let some frustration out. “He’s just so! SO!!” “I know.” “He’s such an IDIOT!” “A fool, truly.” He nods, not even looking up from the goat he was milking in the meantime.

They mourn Gyda on the anniversary of her death each year

don’t. don’t do this to me. not after There is Thunder in Our Hearts chapter 4.

Has trouble getting the at LEAST 3 languages he speaks straight in his head sometimes especially in those scenarios

we’ve talked about this extensively like two months ago yeah. i think its one of the most interesting traits of his character. also, i feel like no character other than Ragnar and Ecbert truly understood how intelligent he actually is

Tends the garden at Ragnar's farm, and later keeps a little garden of his own, it keeps him calm and reminds him of his work at Lindisfarne

Bakes bread like an absolute King

Good at cooking in general

Soup

Helga + Athelstan + Gyda flower crown making circle. Yes please.

Animals like him instinctively

Learns to knit & makes his own clothes

Ambidextrous (and would get in trouble at the monastery for occasionally using "the devil's hand" by accident)

absolutely love this one

Face turns beet red in the cold

#same #realasfuck

Eventually does get a tattoo on a wrist or ankle where it can't be seen by anyone

i am GLAD someone is finally talking about this. my Ac: Valhalla character (Eivor) is basically just an older/real viking Athelstan. long dark simple-braided hair, short beard, and the most basic and simple and clean tattoos available in the game. (you probably have no idea what im talking about, ill post some pictures i took of him in the game) but YEAH he WOULD get tattoos (maybe also because Ragnar kinda pressured him into getting one. maybe) but you know, nothing too fancy or extreme

He and Helga are best buds (to Floki's dismay)

him and Helga and Torstein are besties IDC IDC

Sorta easy to not notice. He can be very quiet, to the point where if he wanted to sneak around and snoop he could with almost zero effort. But he doesn't bc morals???

i have this scenario written down where Ragnar once asks him to visit the town they were going to raid pretending to be a foreigner. Athestan is like “??? are you crazy?? I’m gonna get killed” surprise surprise literally nobody notices him at all he blends in perfectly. if he was a videogame character he would be perfect for stealth-focused quests

these Ragnar ones are making me aargsgwhhshwjsjjjwkki !!!!

(he's tried to do this [teach him stuff] with Ragnar too but that man is Too Stubborn -- even when it's Athelstan)

!!!!!!!!1!!-£/

Ragnar's INSTINCT is to immediately roast most things he says about his religion off bat-- but then he'll spend hours thinking about his takes anyway and come back like hold on what was that you said. And Athelstan is like. Aha.

absolutely OBSESSED with this one the “Aha.” YESSSSS “Your is God is weird and weak compared to ours but also you need to tell me more immediately please I got no sleep last night thinking about the Holy Trinity. He’s your father but also your son and a spirit at the same time?”

Ragnar LOVES to playfully slap him on the back, throw an arm around him, hugs etc. which is all fun and great but sometimes he'll forget that Athelstan is like. Small. And will straight up knock him over.

i mentioned some time ago Ragnar accidentally hurting him really badly during training and this is the reason yes

Finds Ragnar's old clothes (that he's stuck with at the beginning of the series) comforting and doesn't mind that they're about four sizes too big — he’s used to loose oversized robes after all

he refuses to admit that also Ragnar’s strong (smelly) scent that lingers to those clothes don’t bother him at all. actually, well. i thats vulgar. i shan’t say. (he likes it)

Learns to make tattoos despite having only one of his own

Tries to give Ragnar one at one point and they think it'll be a -bonding experience~ but Ragnar will not stop squirming and Athelstan gets increasingly frustrated trying to get him to Hold The Fuck Still

+ @levithestripper ‘s reblog im dying over this

Ok my *favourite* Athelstan headcanons I've come up with so far, complied from all my earlier compilations** go:

**and yeah, YEAH a lot of these are reiterations of what i've said a million times, fight meeeee

under the cut:

He needs very little sleep to function & his sleep schedule is a Mystery

Always A Little Too Cold, can't sleep without like 18 covers

Shares life/skills tips with Lagertha

They are each other's wingman/woman (& silently judge Ragnar together when he's Up To Something)

They mourn Gyda on the anniversary of her death each year

He pushes himself too far without knowing it sometimes, trying to exist through being way too stressed, exhausted etc.

Has trouble getting the at LEAST 3 languages he speaks straight in his head sometimes especially in those scenarios

Tends the garden at Ragnar's farm, and later keeps a little garden of his own, it keeps him calm and reminds him of his work at Lindisfarne

His birth name wasn't Athelstan, that's his chosen monk name (in a couple fics of mine I've called him Anselm)

Bakes bread like an absolute King

Good at cooking in general

Soup

Has an intense fear of thunderstorms/severe weather

Can swim if he has to but not a fan of water either

Ambidextrous (and would get in trouble at the monastery for occasionally using "the devil's hand" by accident)

But now he can fight with both hands so that's cool

Nearsighted (that's what spending years squinting at small print by candlelight will do to a guy)

It's rare for him to get sick

But when he does it hits him like an absolute truck. Like he won't catch a single cold for YEARS and then out of nowhere bam, stuck in bed for two weeks with the worst bug of his life

Lagertha helps him out if he's unwell, he's got some medical training from being a monk but like I said earlier when he's too stressed his brain does Not work

And he's also helped her with injury recovery after battles, sometimes giving her insight to things that would've been a lot more serious otherwise

Basically he's her physio coach

(he's tried to do this with Ragnar too but that man is Too Stubborn -- even when it's Athelstan)

Ragnar's INSTINCT is to immediately roast most things he says about his religion off bat-- but then he'll spend hours thinking about his takes anyway and come back like hold on what was that you said. And Athelstan is like. Aha.

He and Helga are best buds (to Floki's dismay)

Helga + Athelstan + Gyda flower crown making circle. Yes please.

Face turns beet red in the cold

Ragnar LOVES to playfully slap him on the back, throw an arm around him, hugs etc. which is all fun and great but sometimes he'll forget that Athelstan is like. Small. And will straight up knock him over.

Animals like him instinctively

He's that weird guy who brings his sketchbook to a party & draws people

But fr he has more trouble remembering faces than names (and to him all the Norsemen kinda look alike. He will never admit that.) so he keeps track of everybody this way

Eventually does get a tattoo on a wrist or ankle where it can't be seen by anyone

Sorta easy to not notice. He can be very quiet, to the point where if he wanted to sneak around and snoop he could with almost zero effort. But he doesn't bc morals???

Finds Ragnar's old clothes (that he's stuck with at the beginning of the series) comforting and doesn't mind that they're about four sizes too big -- he's used to loose oversized robes after all

Gyda had a crush on him when he first arrived and Bjorn teased her incessantly about it (Athelstan had no idea)

People get to know him as kind of an advisor and sagely type, and will come to him for advice (honestly...kind of like a priest would do. which is not a connection he makes anyone aware of, but it makes him happy)

Strategy game enthusiast

Learns to knit & makes his own clothes

Has a bit of a photographic memory

Learns to make tattoos despite having only one of his own

Tries to give Ragnar one at one point and they think it'll be a ~bonding experience~ but Ragnar will not stop squirming and Athelstan gets increasingly frustrated trying to get him to Hold The Fuck Still

....Phew

@grantairescurls @levithestripper @starrose17

I know I've bombarded you guys with so much Athelstan stuff that's probably super repetitive but ughhhghhhhhhhh I gotta exorcise these things

[chayacat]

Remember, My Love. (15)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8 Village

Lycan Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, language and Smut

***

Voices. Several voices. He didn't know exactly how many, but Chris heard them distinctly. And he recognized two of them among all these people.

“He's going to get through it? If Miranda learns that we have helped this stranger, we will all be doomed!” said a man.  

“Calm down Leonardo. He may be a stranger to our village, but he is still a soul to be saved. And if he survives the attack of the lycans...it must mean that he isn’t a normal human being.” responds a woman.  

“A human not normal? But you lost your mind Luiza! he's just lucky and have his weapons, that's all!"

“Silence ! I think he's waking up...” said an old woman voice.  

When Chris opened his eyes and turned his head, he recognized Leonardo, the man who had cursed him when he repelled the lycan attack in the village, and Luiza, the woman who had advised him to leave the place. Three other people were there, two elderly people, a man and a woman, and Elena, Leonardo's daughter. As he tried to get up, in order to see a little better around him, Chris felt a pain. That's right, he was wounded because of Heisenberg. If he puts his hand on him... Chris was so caught up in his thoughts, that he jumped slightly when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.

“You should rest Mr Redfield... You are barely healed of your wounds. leave now would be too risky.” said Luiza with a sincere smile.

“Where am I? And why did you help me?” asks Chris the mind still slightly foggy.  

“You are at my house. This house has protected my family for generations. You are safe here.”

“It was Luiza who insisted to take you here. If it had been only from me, I would have let you die or devoured by the lycans.” replied Leonardo complaining.

“it's nice to see that your opinion of me hasn't changed... That does not answer my question.” said Chris by sitting properly.

“If we helped you, young man... that's because Aria would have done it for us. And that she seemed to like you well.” said the old man.

“In the meantime, your four "Lords" have succeeded in their move. They make her believe that she is the resurrection of her previous life. And now she is with them.”

The two elderly people looked at each other and the old man made an approving sign to the old woman before looking at Chris, who observed the two people in turn, questioning.

“Actually, young man... The Aria you know... has really come back from the dead. They did not lie to her. They simply reminded her who she was, and who she was going to be before she died.” said the old woman.

“Explain yourself.” said simply Chris frowning.  

“Let me tell you a story... That of a young couple who saw their future shattered in a split second. And all this 100 years ago.”

“What? It’s impossible...”

“And yet this is true. This story has been passed down from generation to generation in this village. Once upon a time... A young woman lived in this village. Her beauty was divine and her innocence so pure... that all men desired to take her as their wife. One day, as is still customary today, she was chosen by Lady Dimitrescu to become one of her servants. The young woman, knowing full well what would cost her if she tried to rebel, accepted her fate, and promised herself to serve Dimitrescu so as not to die at her hands or that of her daughters.” starts the old woman.  

“The zombies I saw at the castle...” said Chris.

“They are former servants of Dimitrescu. Some became zombies while Dimitrescu was trying to make them one of her daughters, others became zombies for disobeying her or worse.” responds the old man before the old woman pursuit her story.  

“Over time, the young woman became closer to the chatelaine and her daughters. Because compared to others, and despite the nature of her... Masters, she couldn't help but feel kindness and understanding towards them. She disagreed with their practice, but she understood that they had no choice if they wanted to survive. Dimitrescu had become so attached to her that she made the young woman more and more her confidante to the point one day of deciding to take her with her to the appointment of the 4 Lords. And it was on that day that Lord Heisenberg met the one who melted his heart. And it was reciprocal. They talked to each other after the discussions, and then over time they ended up spending more time together. What the young woman did not know, and which frightened the young Lord, was the nature of the latter. he was certainly one of the most powerful, controlling the metal as he pleased, but he was also a monster in the eyes of the inhabitants, a Lycan, more powerful, more ferocious, bloodier than the rest of the pack. He was their leader. And he was afraid that the only love in his life would run away from him, reject him out of fear. But when she caught him in his monster form, she did nothing. On the contrary, she didn't care what he was. She loved him and would love him, forever.”

“But I guess their happiness didn't last....” said Chris.  

“Indeed. He had proposed to her. He had asked her to become Lady Heisenberg. And the young woman had agreed. Unfortunately, one day... A villager appeared out of nowhere as they were enjoying life to the fullest. And killed the young woman. Heisenberg, mad with rage and sorrow, killed this villager and cursed all the men of this village, vowing to make them his guinea pigs.”  

“So, Aria is really Heisenberg's wife?”

“In a way yes. Unfortunately, this could not be official, she was killed before they could get married. But few people know the rest of this story... One day, Mother Miranda came to our village, carrying a baby in her arms. A girl to be more precise.  She entrusted this baby to my daughter and her husband to raise her with clear instructions. Her name was Aria Meylins, and they were her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Meylins. And they had to raise her as their own daughter.”

“Wait, are you telling me that Miranda gave you a baby and that it is Aria? and your daughter didn't ask herself a question about it? Nor why did Miranda impose her conditions?” Replied Chris frowning.  

“My daughter couldn't have children unfortunately... So, when Miranda gave her this baby... she accepted everything Miranda asked of her. But only those in this room know this part of the story. And now you too.”

“And you acted as if nothing had happened during all this time? While you knew about it? It's completely crazy...”  

“We weren't to say anything to Aria... she had to recover her memory on her own. This started very young. But these were just snippets of memories... nothing more.” said Luiza.  

Chris stood up, despite the pain, and recovered his weapons.  Everything was clear, Miranda used Aria as a subject of experience. The death of the young woman all these years ago is not... a simple unfortunate circumstantial. Miranda had something to do with this story. But how do you convince Aria? And especially the 4 Lords? Because another thing was certain now for Chris: Miranda had been cheating on them from the beginning. They were just pawns, toys, experiments for her. It has to stop. And if there's one Chris is most likely to convince... It's Heisenberg. But it may be complicated. Because he is the most dangerous. And surely the most watched by Miranda. However, Chris knows that he will see him again very soon. Heisenberg wants him dead. And he will walk heaven and earth for that.

As he walked to the door to leave the scene, Leonardo stood in his way. For a moment Chris had forgotten him... for the better.

“Where do you think you're going like this?” said Leonardo.  

“Do my job. Miranda went too far. She uses the people of this village as lab rats and makes it happen as divine acts. But you're just guinea pigs in those eyes. So, either you push yourself, or I'd have to knock you out. And believe me, it's not the desire that I lack.” responds Chris by cracking his fists.

Leonardo hesitated for a moment before shifting to let Chris pass. Once outside, he observed the castle of Dimitrescu and the surroundings of the village. This whole place is just a huge open-air laboratory. Here, Miranda knew perfectly well that no one would come to disturb her. This was without counting on the BSAA. And on Chris.  

As he was about to leave the estate, he saw a well-known carriage. The duke was trading with some of the locals, and when he saw Chris coming in his direction, a big smile appeared on his face.

“Oh Mr. Redfield! Decidedly the reaper must not love you much so that you are still alive... Or you have a guardian angel over your head. Your choice.” he said smiling.  

“Always the sense of humor to what I see. With what I have just learned, the urge to get rid of Miranda is even heavier. This woman is truly evil.” responds Chris.  

“I never said otherwise Mr Redfield. And I am delighted to hear that you are still so determined. But what do you plan to do for Aria?”

“First find her. After... it will be up to her to decide. But if I want to take care of Miranda, I'm going to need a helping hand. And for that... I have to be able to convince the 4. Especially Heisenberg.”

“Oooh... I wish you good luck in this case. Convincing Heisenberg above all, knowing that he wants to kill you, is not going to be easy. I wonder how you're going to do it... and if it's going to work.”

“We'll see. I guess Aria is at the factory again?”

“We can't hide anything from you. Good luck Mr Redfield...Oh be careful with the waters...Who knows what’s hiding down there...”

Chris nodded and walked to the factory. After several minutes of walking, he arrived at the bridge that connected the village to the Heisenberg factory. But as he began to advance on the bridge, a monstrous sea creature came out of the water and blocked his way.  

“The f**k is that thing ??” said Chris avoiding the creature by stepping back.  

“I won't let you do it! Mom will be proud of me when she knows that I am the one who killed you! And my sisters and brother too!” said the creature who was none other than Moreau in his monstrous form.

“Damn..Nature hasn’t been cool with you. Let me pass! I have to find Aria and Heisenberg!”

“Certainly not! I won't let you corrupt them both! you're going to die here and now!”

“Well... he leaves me no choice... I will pass one way or another.”

Moreau stood in front of Chris, blocking any way for him to pass through the factory. If he wants to pass, he will have no choice but to face him. But facing such a big monster, it may take time. And time he does not have much unfortunately. If he can avoid killing him, he will, otherwise...

He will have no other choice.

***

(Finish! well the permit is missed! but it doesn't matter I'll have it next time! I must admit that the work tires me a lot given the hours I do lately but I still try to meet my deadlines to post the chapters! You can concede that we are almost halfway through fiction, I intend to do until chapter 30 or 35 for this fiction, no more history of not being able to move on and not get stuck too long with it! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Have a great week everyone! See ya!)  

[caesthetix]

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 2 Extra Bread

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

"T-Thank you, sir!"

He stuttered out and bowed a little to the soldier who gave him five loaves of bread. Though the older man did not acknowledge his gratitude at all, instead he just sneered at him, making him flinch since he was reminded of the fact that this island filled with demons.

His long feet stride out from the line, wanting to get back to where his friends waited. Today it was his duty to get the food for his companions, and it needed all of his courage to utter how many people in his family were left when the soldier asked him.

Four, it was the right answer that he was supposed to say. But he couldn't help but stutter five instead. It had only been a few weeks after they breached the outer wall, Maria, and yet he still couldn't believe that it was only the four of them now.

Each of them was grieving. Annie would now scowl a lot and buried her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see the vulnerable look on her face. Reiner was different, he tried to act tough despite the nightmares that often accompanied him in his sleep. While him? He hid his sadness and pain deep inside his heart because he knew that someone suffered more.

You, you didn't talk at all for days as if you were just their shadows. Annie made sure that you were not hurt when he and Reiner crushed the gate. And even though you were not uttering any words, you could do your task ideally without a hitch, and that was to sneak inside with battered clothes, acting like a child who lost everything.

But maybe you were indeed lost everything, that was what he thought when he saw you just staring into spaces without any expression on your face. The bubbly and warm person that he met back then in Marley was nowhere to be found at this point and he hoped that someday he could meet her again.

When his pale green eyes fell to the familiar strands of your hair, he started to run, wanting to give you the bread for today since the sun was up for hours yet no one ate anything just yet. The shelter where all of them were hiding was an abandoned barn just outside the main city, no one knew who the owner of it was, but when Reiner found it empty, they decided to use it as a temporary house.

They just needed to survive for a few years and they could enroll in the military after that. But now they had to make a plan about what they should do in the meantime. Now they were just four orphans who lost everything from wall Maria. A few days ago a soldier gave them a form to fill out, consisting of some questions about names, birth, and the residence they used to live in before.

And that was the first time he heard your voice after weeks wallowing yourself in silence. When Marcel was alive, he told you that you needed to change your last name. Just for a disguise, it was the safest option because who would have expected if someone knew the weight of your name.

"No." You whispered out, one hand scribbling down the paper to write your name. "I am not going to lose my identity. No." There was a lingering pain in your voice that everyone could notice. "I will do anything, Reiner, but not this. This is my last name and I will lose it if someone takes it away from me."

The blonde frowned when he heard your rebellion, you seemed fine when Marcel asked you to do that back then, but now you changed your mind and he wished he knew the words that could sway you. You continued to write down your information without stopping while the boys stared at you with wonder.

Annie knew that you couldn't be forced to do something that you wouldn't do, so she just shrugged it off and focused on her paper, not wanting to spend her time filling forms if she could do it fast. She really thought Reiner would drop it after hearing your statement, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop.

"Hey, but Marcel would tell you to do the same."

Bertolt could imagine his friend getting beaten up again at this point. But this time not from Annie, instead, he would get it from you who was now gripping so tight on the pencil that he was afraid you would stab the armoured titan inheritor on the neck with it.

"That's the thing, Braun." You gritted your teeth, avoiding yourself for kicking him on the face. And when the poor boy heard you called him by his last name, he knew that he was done for good. "Marcel is not here anymore, and you are not Marcel."

Bertolt made a note on his head that he would never want to get on your bad side. He felt a shiver down his spine at that time when you completely disregarded Reiner, and those words were not even for him. He couldn't imagine what his friend felt, must be hell for sure.

"Hey, I-I got the food for us today." Stopping on his track right in front of you. You were currently cleaning up the dust on the window, he recalled you said that you despised dirty windowpane last night, and he raised his eyebrow since he wondered how you got some clothes to clean it up with.

"Thank you, Bertolt." You gave him a soft smile, and from just that gesture he could feel his cheek burning from — goodness, he didn't even know what he was feeling right now. "Oh? You got five? How?" He was still in a trance when you threw the question, making him baffled for a second there.

"I said that there were five members in my family." He averted his eyes, ashamed to confess that to you. That and the fact he would see the sadness inside your eyes if he did so."I didn't mean to, really, b-but I only realised it after the soldier gave the portion to me."

"Oh, Bertolt." You let out a long sigh and grabbed two pieces of bread from his hand. "You know you could correct yourself after that, right?" He knew that you were scolding him, but with how soft your voice was, he just accepted it, not even once trying to correct himself. "I will give it back to the soldier, okay? You go inside, Reiner and Annie are waiting for you."

"But shouldn't you eat first?" He was concerned for sure, and despite knowing the fact that you could handle this harsh world by yourself, he was not sure if it was the right choice to let you go alone. "I can drop this off to them and I can accompany you, right?"

You chuckled at this, and his pupils widened at that since it was the first time you expressed some kind of joyful gesture since Marcel's incident. Your eyes closed as you chuckled at him, he didn't know what he did to make you like this but his brain short-circuited to even think about it. He just stood there with mouth agape, enjoying the pure, melodious giggle that slipped from your mouth.

"Bertolt," And how much he loved his name rolled down your tongue was uncanny. "It's okay, I will eat mine on the way. And I can handle myself, I am going to be back before you know it! You don't have to be concerned about me." You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his body went rigid at that. "See you later, tell the others where I am going, okay?"

He was too frozen in the spot even when you already strolled down the street with the loaves of bread in your hand. There was no time for him to answer you, and he felt like all the words were stuck in his throat. You just touched him, that was the only thing that he could process right now.

Yes, it was nothing special since you always held Pieck's hand back then or gave a pat to the other warrior candidates (especially Porco, for as long as he remembered even though the boy seemed to dislike your presence and unfazed by it), but to him, feeling your touch like that was everything.

It gave him some kind of boost, maybe it was the warm tingle that he felt whenever you were around or the fact that your existence just screamed comfort — he didn't know exactly what caused him to treasure your touch. What he knew for sure that in the end, he enjoyed your company.

"Oi, Bertolt! Why are you standing there like a statue?!"

"S-Sorry, Reiner—"

〄

The wind caressed your hair as you wandered down the street, turning left and right to the alleyway that would lead you to the plaza. This place had been your home for a few weeks now, and you started to enjoy living here, greeting some people here and there despite how many times Reiner told you not to.

They would ask, of course, where you were from. And you always answered it without hesitation, without a pause, as if the one who talked was an entirely different person with how you always lost all the light in your face when you gave them your answer. They would sympathize, and you took their pity and kept acting it out.

You had a different approach in this mission compared to the other warrior. While they decided to keep a low profile, you were going all out and showed yourself as a victim from the fall of wall Maria. Lots of benefits coming your way with how some adults asked you to move in with them or offering you a job so you could fend for yourself.

Their offers were always so sweet, but you didn't want to leave your friends inside a cold barn with nothing to lay on except the pile of hay. You always ended up cuddling with Annie, not caring that she wanted to kick you on the face at first for not giving her enough space, she ended up liking to sleep in your embrace days after that, so for you, it was all worth it.

Maybe though, their offer about working for them could help you. There were some of them and you sure at least one of the jobs had good earnings. You could buy food for your friends if that was the case, all of you didn't have to rely on free food anymore. And so, you decided that you would go to the adult near the plaza after this, asking if the offer was still up.

"I am sorry! It was already late and there was only one bread left for us!"

Your ears caught the distressed tone that came from the alleyway near you. The plaza was empty now since it seemed like the ration already finished for the day. To know that a lot of people couldn't even have one bread to eat made your stomach churned with guilt and anger for yourself.

"It's alright, Armin. We can share it."

"Yeah, it's not like I eat a lot anyway."

There were three of them, three children that looked like they were the same age as you, and they only got one piece of bread for the whole day. Knowing that the soldier was not there anymore and the commotion already dispersed, you decided to give the bread to them instead.

Your tiny feet waddled toward them, they were currently deep in thought about how to divide the food fairly. And you were thankful that you haven't eaten your fair of bread, so now each of the kids could have one.

"Excuse me," You interrupted their discussion, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to face you. Two of them looked at you with confusion while the other one had her eyes filled with caution. "I am sorry, I heard about your problem before, and I have two extra pieces of bread that you guys could take."

The two boys, one with blonde hair and the other with short dark brown hair — looked at each other without saying anything. It was like they had this kind of bond, talking through their minds before giving each other a nod. Maybe they were debating if it was alright to accept your hospitality or not.

"It's fine, but is this bread really alright for us to take?" The boy with the ocean blue eyes spoke up, taking one step forward to your figure. "What about you then, have you eaten yet today?"

"Yes, it's fine. If not, I am not going to offer it in the first place." You gave him a gentle smile before answering his next question a little bit too quickly to your liking. "Don't worry about me! I already got breakfast before and ate mine. You don't have to think—"

"You are lying." The girl that had been silent the whole time suddenly cut your sentence. "Don't tell me I am wrong because I am sure that I am right." She didn't sugarcoat her words at all, and you couldn't understand anymore if her words mean good or bad. Because surely her onyx orbs looked at you as if you were a threat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing that you couldn't lie anymore with how sharp the three of them were. But this fact wouldn't stop you from wanting them to take your fair.

"Well, yes, I haven't eaten." Surrendering yourself to honesty, you continued. "But I am going to be fine, an adult in this shop near the plaza offered me a job and food, so I could get it from them after this." You explained truthfully, handing them the bread thereafter.

"Then how come you had extra bread in the first place?" The short-haired boy now squinting his eyes, wanting to understand your hidden motive in case there were any. "You had one for yourself too despite knowing that you could get food from this adult you told us about. So why should we trust you?"

"Eren!"

Ah, so the boy's name is Eren. You thought, couldn't believe that someone would even doubt the others for giving free food. But then again, you couldn't blame them for being extra cautious. No one knew what could happen inside these walls. The worst-case scenario from this was that you poisoned them to get rid of another life to prevent any more hunger.

"You don't have to trust me, of course." You answered him with a soft and calm tone, something that you learned from your house back in Marley. That even when someone raised their voice at you, you needed to handle them with care. "My friend was the one who got the food from me, and he didn't check that he got extra food, so I am here with the first mission to give it back to the garrison soldier."

You gave them the answer that they want, both hands still pushed forward, waiting for them to take it. "Promise I wouldn't disturb you anymore, I just want to make sure you guys get enough food. That's all."

There was a long silence engulfing the four of you. That was until the blonde took the bread out of your hand and gave you a smile of gratitude, which you answered with the same gesture as him. The other two were now looking at you with a softened gaze, finally stripping away their caution towards you.

"I am sorry that I sounded rude before." The brunette started, giving you a cheeky smile as his ears tinted with a pinkish hue. "I just need to be careful around strangers, everything just messed up at this time, you know?" He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening as if a terrible memory fleeting through his mind for a second.

"It's fine. I know where that thought is coming from." You kicked the pebbles near your foot before, making it bounce to the wall as you looked down. "Everything is just a nightmare after the breach." And you tried so hard not to break down, not in front of anyone, especially those who were the victim of your action. "All of you — didn't deserve any of it."

Your voice that was so warm and comforting before now turned into a completely different tone. There was sadness, at least that was what they could hear from you. They couldn't see the expression in your eyes since you persisted in looking down at your feet, avoiding their gaze at all cost.

"And you didn't deserve it too."

The blonde, that if you recalled from before was called Armin, telling you words that you thought you wouldn't need to hear. "No one wanted this to happen, no one deserved to live like this." He continued, and you were ready to crumble even more. "But this is our life, for now, so we can't do anything else but move on."

You wanted to get down on your knees, hugging his legs as you begged for forgiveness. Just like what you saw in some of the memories from your ancestors, there were just normal human beings inside these walls. Just like in Marley, just like on the other continent, there were good and bad people, and nothing differentiated them except the fact that they had a titan's blood flowing inside their veins.

Nothing else but that — and the dangerous truth that lies within the walls.

"It's called rumbling, right?"

Just one month from now, you were going to inherit the war hammer titan, and you have been studying a lot, reading the journal that your ancestor wrote. The book was so helpful, preparing you to know the truth that this world had to hide. Sometimes your twelve years old brain could not even understand it.

The past few years you had been training hard privately. You got the best instructor, honing your mental and physical build at the same time. But since you reached the age of ten, your father introduced you to Commander Magath who was in charge of the Warrior Unit, the unit for those titan inheritors.

And you trained with them ever since then. Creating a bond and friendship to those who would fight alongside you in the upcoming battle. The majority of them were easy to talk with like Marcel, Pieck, Zeke, Reiner, and Bertolt. While the rest — not so much.

Annie was fine though, she still talked to you here and there and taught you about some certain techniques of hand-to-hand combat that you deemed remarkably useful. Porco on the other hand, you wanted to grimace at the interaction that you had with him. Yet despite all that, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling for just thinking about him.

But this moment was not the right time to reminisce about the warrior training, not when a few months from now, you would embark on a mission to reclaim the founding titan.

"Yes, when the founding titan decided to unharden the walls and released millions of colossal titan, it was called rumbling." Your father sat across from where you were, filling out papers from the military about you. "If that happened, the whole world would turn into nothing."

You gave a nod of acknowledgement, fingers tracing the ink that seeped on the worn-out paper journal.

"So it was risky to let the founding titan stay in Paradis since no one knew if someday they would activate the rumbling or not." You stated the sentence as a matter of factly, absorbing the information that sometimes made your head pound. "It was risky since they closed themselves inside those walls and no one knew what happened there."

"Yes, my dear." His voice cracked like any other time, having so much burden for throwing you to the frontline of the battle like that. You, his little star, his precious daughter that he never wanted to turn her into a war machine that could only live for thirteen years. "That is why you need to prevent it from happening."

But it was something that needed to be done — and there was nothing that you could do except embracing the cruel truth like an old friend.

"Yes, you are right." Fixing your composure, you were back to the kind girl from before. "Thank you for telling me that, I think I need it." You chuckled softly, fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind the ear. "I-I will go now, then. Hope all of you survive and continue on living!"

Bowing yourself a little before departing (a trait that you couldn't shake off that easily), you waved at them and turned your heels, walking away from the three children that you really hoped would have a beautiful life ahead, for as long as they could have.

"Wait!" But you halted your feet to move forward when you heard Eren's voice calling out for you.

"Yes? What is it?" You were still not that far from them, so you decided to use your normal volume as if they were still right in front of you.

"We haven't got your name!" Yet despite how calm you were, the boy seemed to choose to shout at you anyway. "I am Eren! This is Armin and Mikasa, they are everything that I had left! Now, what's yours?!"

Hearing how excited he was made you giggle, such a complete opposite for real compared to him a few minutes ago when he looked at you with caution. Now he became the child he was supposed to be, with a wide grin on his face as he just wanted to know the name of his probably new friend.

And so you indulged him with it, answering his question with a clear and solid tone.

"It's (Y/n)!" You decided to shout back, equaling his enthusiasm. "(Y/n), (Y/n) Tybur!"

Paradis Citizen(s)

↪@yumaryko ​@may-machin @cuteissei

↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[17caratssi]

Wonwoo! Will you stay

Jeon Wonwoo! A short series pt one | two | three | four After the rejection, Wonwoo finds your persistence cumbersome. Surprisingly, the quarrel results in you getting new friends.

Our current parents are not the ones who really had you. In actuality, you were adopted to a loving couple that has had no child for 7 years. Your biological parents were too poor to raise another child, and they chose to put you into adoption when you were only 5 months.

When the couples saw you in the centre, they immediately fell in love with you and agreed to take you as their child. You had your name registered under your father's last name and basically became the daughter of their family.

It was illegal at that time, but your parents were desperate to have a child.

It didn't shock you the first time you were disclosed to this information. You don't look like your mother or father, and the brats at school keep suggesting that you're adopted. Your parents then decided to tell you despite your young age.

"You are our daughter. No matter what others say, we love you with our full hearts. Don't forget that, darling," was what your mother told you 12 years ago.

You know they are the best family you could ever have, and they always do. Occasionally, you would thank them. Your mother was never fond of you thanking them, and your dad doesn't have the heart to scold you for the same reason.

He hates it too, but you want them to know that you're very grateful to them.

Your father turns to look at you and stroke your head tenderly. "Where can I find the best daughter like this in this world?"

"You can't anymore. The world only has one best daughter, and that's me~."

"You're super right!" he pinches your nose playfully and has you giggle. "Let's go home. Mommy said she has something for you,"

The next day, you walk to your seat and sit quietly. You feel quite tired from the lacking of sleep. Your friend from America called you last night, and it continued until 3 in the morning. You were too guilty to tell her that you have school in the morning and have to sleep.

In the end, you only got 3 hours of sleep before getting ready for school.

You rest your head on the table and shut your eyes. The students are not making any noises, and you quickly fall asleep.

Wonwoo comes in when you already wake up. He is pretty late as compared to others.

You greet him with a good morning and directly ask. "Your house isn't that far. Why are you late?"

Wonwoo pulls his chair and sits. He's quiet on usual, so you don't know if he's normal or moody.

"Wonwoo, what do you think they have for lunch?"

"Wonwoo, can you teach me Physics? I'm most terrible at it.."

"Wonwoo, what club are you planning to join? Let me join you, OK?"

"Wonwoo, what did you say?" you ask again. You have lost count of how many times to call his name. Wonwoo... Wonwoo... It just rolls off the tongue.

Wonwoo raises his head and faces you. He opens his thin lips and repeats his words.

"You're. So. Freaking. Annoying," he utters word by word as if tearing your heart pieces by pieces. It sends you into speechless mode.

Though he tries to speak through his teeth, some students can still hear him. The girls in front of you are flabbergasted by the vulgar word Wonwoo used.

Never have they ever assumed Wonwoo could be crude to a girl. They study your face, but you're smiling.

"I thought I made it clear yesterday that I'm not at all interested in you. I find you annoying since the first time we meet. You're just a stuck-up rich kid that has no shame," Wonwoo canes his chin with his palm and continues.

"Just look at you. Which part of you is charming? I'll tell you this. Maybe you can get the white boys to line up within a snap of a finger, but I'm not like them. I hate all the girls most when they're rich and think they're superior to others. I don't have to clarify with you which category you're in, right?"

When you and the girls think he's done, you all are wrong.

"I think I should be more clear with you-"

"Enough." the girl with shorter hair stands up and kicks his table. "You could've just rejected her nicely, but you prefer being an asshole, don't you?" she says. Her eyes are burning with rage as he stares at Wonwoo, and they only calm after her seatmate pulls her arm.

"Yeah, Somi's right. I'll talk to the teacher about this, Y/N. We'll have you swap seats with some boy," you read her nametag- Umji, and you're about to say something when Wonwoo interferes.

What he has to say is just him admitting that he agrees with Umji. "Tell everything to the classroom teacher. I can't be bothered sitting next to someone's so annoying,"

"Stop it now, will you?" Somi flares again, and Wonwoo resumes his previous business.

Umji and Somi really keep their word and tell the homeroom teacher the morning incident. The arrangement changes, and you sit with a girl in the second row.

Since then, it's quite difficult to peek at Wonwoo without being noticed.

Every day after school ends, Wonwoo flees before you catch up to him. You want to apologize to him, but the whole week has passed. In the meantime, you make friends with Somi and Umji. The depressing, lonely days become less severe with them.

During the recess, the three of you go to the field and settle on a metal bench. Somi's boyfriend is a basketball player, so she always watches over him at the basketball court.

"Why are your face so red, Y/N?" Umji cups your cheeks and jiggles them. "Are you sick?"

You shake your head from side to side and breathes out loudly. You've been holding to ask them about Wonwoo, and now's the time!

"I want to ask something, but don't get mad. How's Wonwoo's doing?" you literally rap.

"Slow down, Y/N! I don't get you-" Umji holds your shoulder and soothes your nervous heart, but Somi is quick-witted. She reiterates to Umji and then glances at you.

"What's so nice about that a-hole? You still think about him?"

Umji doesn't deny that, but she's curious about Wonwoo. "I don't know. Is it me, or Wonwoo appears to be quieter after you change seat,"

"It's good, though. I hate it when he opens his filthy mouth. I can't forget what he said to Y/N!" you keep silent when Somi makes a comment.

"Maybe he cares about me after all?" you say, unabashed.

Somi frowns and leans forward. "Have you lost your mind, Y/N?"

You shake your head rapidly. "To be honest, I don't feel angry at him for saying that to me. I was wrong in the first place, so he has all the right to snap at me," you sip the grape juice.

Somi and Umji are in disbelief, and it entertains you.

"I don't know if this is true love or you're too naive,"

Umji chooses, "True love, it is," which sounds extremely unpleasant to Somi. She turns away and fakes a gag. "Blergh! Don't you dare encourage her, Umji,"

"Let's go to class," Somi says after regaining her composure. You've been straining the urge to pee since the break started; therefore, you excuse yourself to the toilet, and the two go back to the class without you. On the way, you accidentally bump into your seatmate, Ahin, in the toilet.

She's with her friends, talking about someone.

As you enter a cubicle, you hear a familiar name being mentioned by a girl.

"Wonwoo..." following after is barely audible, "...bullied,"

.

Wonwoo packs his things up and is ready to leave. He hangs the strap on his shoulder, crossing his torso and kicks the chair. The others who are aware of his precedented action make way for him.

You see him and quickly follow after. Close.. very close, and you grab by his bag.

"You're so fast!" you pant.

"Let go,"

"No! Are you getting in or not?" Not responding to you, you pull him by force into the elevator. Good thing; there's no one else besides you two.

You don't waste a second as you make a quick X-ray on him.

"No bruise, no cuts? Are you really being bullied?" you are still gripping his hands while asking him.

Not liking the skin contact, Wonwoo twists your limbs, dominates your wrists and rebukes. "I'll not repeat it. Get your hands off me!"

"I won't do so until you tell me," You undo the action and hold his again. "Are you being bullied, or you're the bully?"

The elevator opens, and Wonwoo escapes. You're too weak to hold against him, but he was just being kind as to not hurt you.

Since you can't do that again, you just chase after him a bit before jumping on his back. You adjust his bag and cling tightly to his neck.

"What are you doing? People are watching-"

"You don't like the attention, right? You might as well answer me!'

Wonwoo stops in his track. It's dangerous to move since you're not stable.

He exhales.

"The latter. Satisfied?"

"You're the bully?" you stretch your head to look at him. You did not expect that answer from him and squeal nonetheless.

"Thank god! I thought you're being bullied 'cuz if that's the case, I don't know what I'd do,"

What was that?.. Wonwoo wonders how could someone be happy when they're just met with a bully.

"Aren't you a fool?" he struggles to stand straight as you shift your weight to the side. "Get down now,"

"Oh," You climb down and instantly admire him again. "You're so cool!" with your clapping hands, you quick to remind him. "Don't let anyone bully you, alright?"

"My dad's here. Bye, Wonwoo!"

Wonwoo can't read you. He looks up to the sky and ponders. "Why would I listen to just anyone..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sorry for the short chapter. The next ones are much longer, at least to me lol (¯��¯)

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

[keldabika]

Hey yo! :D For the requests: how about a vld post-canon fanfic in which the reader helps Lance to move on, while still remembering Allura with respect and fond memories, which ends up in a sweet love confession? :3 If you need more details, please don’t hesitate to ask. Thanks, and have a good day!

[Lance McClain] “Under The Sun”

———————————————————————

“It’s been quite awhile now, I wonder when Lance is coming home?”

You pondered without so much as a doubt that he’d be back eventually, but you were a bit worried about your long-time best friend. It was late into the summer evening now, and the gradient dark blue was only just beginning to peek over the horizon. He was out late far more often now, though you supposed it was because Allura’s death had hit him hard, but you were in disbelief in seeing the usually peppy and flirtatious boy so…. depressed. It was heartbreaking to witness.

Staring out the farmhouse window, you watched the tall grass sway in the fields beyond and the slight breeze ruffle through the distant image of an apple orchard. The sun was nearly set by now, and soon the stars would be clear in the sky—a constant reminder of the paladins journey across the galaxy.

Knowing that there was so much life out there beyond the Earth you knew, you could barely comprehend just how significantly small your life was in comparison. You hadn’t travelled with the paladins or engaged in conversation with Allura beyond briefings during the Galran invasion, but you understood that the universe they witnessed was oh-so-incredibly vast and endless.

And now you felt oh-so-incredibly lonely in it. You weren’t close with many of the other paladins, besides Hunk and Pidge of course. Shiro had his new husband, Coran was too iffy for your tastes, and Keith…. well he was always off and away. With Altea restored to its rightful glory, commerce and politics between itself and Earth were bustling and swell, never better, and many of the paladins, including Lance from time-to-time, were busy making deals and new friends.

And you felt left out and abandoned because of that. It wasn’t fair that you hadn’t been accepted into the space academy, only because there was a limit to the number of accepted students, and it wasn’t fair Lance left without a single word to you, on some grand adventure for years on end without so much as a word, and it wasn’t fair that you were helpless in all things besides cooking or cleaning or feeding the animals out in the barn, or giving Lance a hug when he needed one, or looking after his siblings while his parents were gone or just—being there. It just wasn’t fair that they’d all experienced so much of life, and you hadn’t done anything in the meantime. Your meagre living was nothing in comparison to their heroism and praise. You felt selfish for thinking this way, so you never voiced your concerns to anybody, especially Lance.

“I wonder what he’d think of me, thinking this way,” you looked out unto the glimmer of stars appearing beyond the clouds, “he’d look at me and think ‘Life is never fair, you should deal with it.’ What a joke.”

You suppose you were satisfied for now with just being able to be near Lance, as a friend and support for when he needed you most, even if he didn’t know it.

“Oh Allura,” stepping outside, your eyes had an even clearer view of the skyline, and the sunset appearing within your vision, and you could almost feel the expanse of the universe looking down upon you, Allura among the vast amount of stars blazing within it, “tell me what I should do to help him. Tell me how I should be there for him, in the same way you were and in ways otherwise. How can I make him happy now you’re gone?”

Of course, you would never receive an answer beyond a pregnant silence, and the echo of your own voice over the hills and through the house where the children were asleep. You kept your eyes on the stars, hoping they’d give you some form of sign, an astrological message that could guide you, a vision of some kind, but there was only emptiness, the soft yet visible twinkle of each individual sun, burning lightyears away.

Sigh. You really should’ve expected this you suppose.

“Speaking to the sky, I’m selfish and an idiot!”

You gripped your [H/c] hair and yanked it downwards, chanting ‘idiot’ over and over again, like a mantra or a prayer, hoping it would relieve some of your many frustrations, until you heard a small sound from a hay bale around the side of the house, near an old trough used to store feed.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Silence was all that answered at first, but then a small series of whimpers came from the area. You grabbed a pitchfork and slowly made your way over to the bale, creeping closer and bringing the pitchfork up to your chest, ready to strike.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A terrified Lance dunked himself into the trough, getting his backside stuck before tipping it over and having it land on top of him while attempting to crawl away.

“Dios mío [Y/n], you scared me!” Lance stood up and dusted off his jacket and pants, rubbing at his eyes and making an awful attempt at hiding his face away from your sight.

“Well I’m sorry, oh merciful Lord Lance, but you being secretive and not answering me when I asked has a lot to do with that.”

He looked away from you for a further moment before responding.

“Well, I uh…. just wanted to be alone for a minute y’know? All my siblings and family n’ stuff, kind of makes my back stiff and mind numb from time-to-time.”

You watched solemnly as he tried to laugh it off, sitting back down on the edge of the trough, head leaning in his hands and staring off into the distance, obviously bothered by something. You were curious, but you didn’t have any right to pry if he didn’t want to tell you first. You’d respect his wishes if he really did just want to be alone.

“Well, alright then,” you smiled softly at him, forcing yourself off your knees and turning around to head back inside, “if you want to talk, I’ll be back inside. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You began to walk away, adamant on getting back upstairs to the comfort of your bed and laying awake all night, when you felt a small weight on the back of your shirt. Lance’s hand had managed to grasp the fabric while you were walking away, and though you turned around to ask him why, he had barely moved from his position on the trough, only gazing at you with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Can you stay for a moment,” he pleaded, “please? It’ll only take a minute [Y/n], I swear.”

‘Allura give me strength’ you thought, letting out an exasperated sigh and seating yourself beside him on the ledge, barely glancing at him again, preferring to turn your sights to the horizon once more. You knew it’d be another nightly session of listening to his fears and sorrows, meanwhile drowning in your own self-doubt and anxieties. This also meant that tomorrow you’d wake up questioning your worth again, comparing yourself to the woman you’d come to respect and admire, and a woman who was now gone off to the afterlife, long before you.

“Tell me what’s up Lance. What’s eating away at you this time tonight, huh? Lemme guess, is it your girlfriend again?”

You watched as Lance fiddled with a piece of straw, rolling it back and forth between his palms, keeping his gaze on the sunset ahead.

“No,” he muttered, “more of an apology really.”

You nearly did a spit take, staring at him like he was a chicken with two heads. You never thought you’d be hearing an apology from the Casanova himself, let alone one aimed at you. Usually he was too cocky to have second thoughts.

“Sheesh Lance, what’s gotten into you? Did your mom finally drill some manners into that peabrain of yours?”

You jokingly put him in a headlock and started ruffling his hair, Lance desperately trying to remove your arm so he could fix his ruined part.

“[Y/n] c’mon! I styled my hair hours ago, I nearly kept it perfect for the whole day!”

He began running his fingers through his hair to put it back in place. Concentrating on perfecting it once more.

“Oh Lance, what kind of farmer like you needs styling gel? It gets greasy in a couple minutes anyways so why even bother.”

“It’s the thought that counts [Y/n]!”

You snorted as he huffed at you, the two of you quipping at each other reminded you of the days before he left off to the academy. Then you remembered,

“Oh right, the apology. Glad to see you learned some common courtesy, but what’s this all about Lance?”

You really needed answers. He suddenly went quiet and seemed to contemplate something for a moment. He worried you, and he knew it too, that you were expecting an explanation for an apology he probably wasn’t ready to give.

“Well you see [Y/n],” he stared directly at you, “I know that I’ve been down recently, and that you’ve always been…. there, I guess, for me when I needed you to be. And I know that I’ve never even thanked you or given you something in return, and that by using you as a way to escape my own problems, I’ve given you some of your own,”

He stopped for a moment to see if you were still paying attention, and seeing you looking at him with encouragement, he continued,

“I’m so sorry, [Y/n]. Really, I am. I was being dumb like always and pouring out my feelings onto someone who had difficulties of their own to deal with, and I never really thought about how I was hurting you…. I’m sorry. When Allura was here, and I was back out in space, battling alien hordes and saving the galaxy…. I felt like everything was right in the world, and that I was living my best life, being beside all the people I cared about, with friends I could trust. I didn’t realize until later that I completely forgot about you in the process, the best friend I left behind, who mattered maybe even more to me than I thought. I never meant to forget you, and I never meant to hurt you.”

He began to get nervous, losing the cocky persona he developed over the years completely, turning downtrodden and forcing out a final “I hope you can forgive me.”

Then he went quiet.

“….I never hated you, y’know,” you began, finally responding, “I never once despised you for leaving without me. I knew you’d come back someday, when I heard a lion took off from the desert that day, I just didn’t know when.”

You kept going, “If anything, I hated myself sometimes, for being selfish and wanting you to come back sooner, or blaming you in my mind for not taking me with you. It always felt unfair to me, that I was stuck here in a constant cycle of boring life, while you were out patrolling the universe, fighting Galra and going on cool missions-”

“-and nearly dying, like, 50 times!” Lance interrupted.

“….and nearly dying 50 times, yes.”

The sun was nearly gone now, disappearing quickly before you, clocking the time you’d been outside conversing in the summer heat—the pale moon climbing the sky behind you.

The stars shone ever-brighter, and the breeze had settled down, the grass at your feet stamped in and no longer swaying, and the crickets in the field were chirping, with the cows grazing in the meadow below, almost ready to head in for the night.

“I’m jealous Lance. And frustrated. But I never spoke a word of anything to you, because I loved you too much to bother you with any more problems than you already had. Nothings your fault, I was only emotional, and I have no disrespect for any of your friends or partners, including Allura. I only wish that you could’ve been happier.”

Ending your rant, you faced Lance again and shrugged, acting nonchalant, like nothing you said mattered at the moment. But he knew that whatever he said next would make a large impact on you.

“You loved me?”

You relaxed a little, “Still do Lance, never stopped even after you left. But, you came back with a space alien girlfriend, I knew I had to let you go.”

Allura was the light of his life, and he was the happiest you’d ever seen him in the weeks before her death. If she hadn’t needed to make a sacrifice, they would’ve probably grown old and had a life together, a family too, and he would have become the Altean King, with you far out of the picture. The little markings on the ridge of his cheekbones still detailed just how loving of a relationship the two were in. Even after her passing, you wouldn’t make a move when Lance only thought of you as a friend.

Both yourself and Lance were gazing at the sky now, completely silent, and yet there was an underlying comfort in the stillness, one which permeated through the air around you and invited a conversation to be had. Lance seemed to wish to speak in order to break it, scratching at the markings whilst trying to find the words to talk to you.

“Oh quiznak, words are too hard!”

Lance reaches across the trough to grasp the hand you’re using to stable yourself on the ledge, bringing it up to the space between the two of you and wearing the most serious expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“When I was in third grade, I ran into a small child in the hallway and accidentally spilled their thermos of soup all over the floor. That tiny [H/c] kid became my desk-mate for all of third and fourth grade, and I remember having to give them my baloney sandwich because they wouldn’t stop crying till I did. In fifth grade, that same kid switched our lunchboxes because I had the better pizza pops, and in sixth grade, while taking a math test, they threw up all over the floor and I laughed like crazy; ended up going with them to the office because the teacher ‘didn’t like my attitude’. In seventh grade, I went to their birthday party and popped all the balloons, I stole half the cake and made off with three goodie bags before anyone could catch me. In eighth grade we became friends, and played pranks together on the other students during April fools, tipped an outhouse, and did each others homework because we both sucked at school. When I was in ninth grade, I gave them a Burger King crown and told them they ruled my world…. I know you know who I’m talking about.”

You began laughing the hardest you had in years, looking back on all the memories you and Lance had built up over the years, times when neither of you knew what would happen, and had big dreams and hopes for the future. The future had turned out to be far different from what both of you had expected.

“To be fair Lance, you were the one who threw up during that math test, not me. You cried for your mom all the way through the school and passed out on a couch in the lobby.”

“Shut up [Y/n], I’m attempting to be sentimental!”

When the laughter died down, and the world was quiet again, you gazed down at the entwined hands that rested between you two, and lazily swung them back and forth to see if he’d let go. When he didn’t, you smiled a bit,

“So what, this means your willing to try? To move on from Allura just like that? Forget everything you had with her and stick with me for awhile?”

He smiled brightly at you, as bright as the sun that could barely be seen, the final slivers fading away over the prairie.

“Allura’s not entirely gone,” he taps his markings, “these babies are a constant reminder of that. I’ll never forget the happiness she gave me, but I don’t want to keep dwelling on the fact that she’s gone. You’re here with me, more than anything, and I hope that we could stay this way for as long as we can.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s far too late to keep outside you realize, and the night brings with it a chilling cold that practically freezes your clothes to your skin, and tinges the air with frost. The fall season is coming, and summer is nearly over, and with it comes the colourful leaves, and the frosted grass, and the wilting flowers. You stand up, dragging Lance with you, and dust off the seat of your pants, preparing to head inside to bed.

Now the darkness has settled, the sun is gone. You take your hands and guide Lance around the house to the doorway. The door creaks open and shuts behind the two of you, and as you say your goodnights, you head off to your room. And as the glow of the moon enters through your window, enshrouding the walls in a pale light, you lay there and ponder.

Truly, you hope that you can spend many more days with Lance down in the fields, and with the cows and the tall grass, and out in the apple orchard, where the two of you will lie, down in the top soil, under the sun.

———————————————————————

BONUS:

“[Y/n], know that you’ll always be my Burger Queen.”

“Lance please. Shut the fu*k up.”

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sushiburritonoms]

I've been having terrible writer's block lately, not enjoying anything I've written, not getting anywhere with WIPs. Poor @darkisrising and @bronze-lorica have had to talk me off edges lately (thanks guys you're the best!). I think I finally have a chapter 3 for Sacred Texts but I'm sitting on it for a while to see if that's the direction I really want to go. I'm soooo sorry for the delay.

In the meantime I was looking through my notes for The Father the Son and the Exile and I found a bunch of scenes I wrote and abandoned as the fic moved in different directions. I figured I'd post some of them because they'll never see the light of day otherwise and because I have nothing else to offer right now.

Originally in Exile, Din and Luke were supposed to make it to Tython. I had them meeting up with Han AND Leia on the planet Ajan Kloss (its the planet Luke and Leia train on in TROS). Its interesting looking back at this, Din and Luke have a different dynamic since I wrote this a long time ago back in March when the story was going in a different direction (I also wrote an homage to one of Writer Owl's fics in the dialogue). I enjoy playful Luke, I don't really write him that often and that's a real shame. Anyways here's wonder wall, enjoy!

Ajan Kloss  was a swampy humid hellhole of a planet that no rational, sentient being should visit, let alone enjoy. Of course that meant that Grogu and Luke were comfortable in the sticky humid environment. In fact there was a rare smile stretched across Luke's face and he sounded almost nostalgic as he talked around their campfire.

“There’s a certain type of moss that grows on the trees here that’s edible.”

Din refused to look up at Luke from where he was cleaning their meal.  “I’m not drinking any tea you make out of it.”

“It’s more of a garnish?”

Din sighed. “Don’t touch my fish.” He forcefully stuck a stick lengthwise through the fish as an emphasis.

“Grogu should really have more vegetation in his diet. Master Yoda used to eat plants.”

Din snorted. “You’re welcome to try.” It wasn’t like the kid never ate vegetables but they were always fried and covered in spices. That probably wasn’t what Luke was getting at.

“Maybe later. He did eat two whole frogs.”  Luke edged himself closer to the fire. “Maybe after this we could swing by Dagobah. You know, assuming we’re not about to trigger some sort of sneak attack or trap. There are tubers I could dig up for him that Master Yoda ate, plus I could pick up more gnarltree bark.”

Din blinked and raised his head up to properly look at Luke. He knew what Luke was doing. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of the future. It was a tactic Din often used himself--strategize every possible outcome in the hopes the future won’t be as terrifying as it feels.

On the one hand, he was amused and touched by Luke’s continued fixation on Grogu’s eating habits, even if it was hypocritical of Luke given his own poor diet.  It reminded Din of some of the older members of the Covert that used to watch Din when he was little. They always used to harass him to eat everything offered to him and gave him sharp nudges when he tried to skip directly to the occasional sweet treat left out for all the foundlings to share. It was very Mandalorian of Skywalker and it felt good. Familiar.

On the other hand, Din really, really didn’t want any more tree bark in the Wayfinder. So Din didn’t really know what to say.

“Hold this.” Din shoved a fish skewer into Luke’s hand. Yeah that worked.

Luke took the skewer with a hint of a smile.  “Master Yoda used to eat certain mushrooms too, I think I can safely identify them. Or maybe I could put together an aquarium in the Wayfinder and we could take more frogs with us. I bet I can repurpose one of the smaller cloning cylinders I have in the back and add a filtration system...”

Din shuddered at the thought  of living with a cloning vat filled with frogs and the likelihood of frogs, moss and tree bark for dinner several nights a week.  Just no. “This is why our people are ancient enemies,” he shuddered. “You live like animals.”

There was silence. Too long of a silence. Din looked up.

Luke was staring at him with a shocked look on his face. “Our people are ancient enemies?” He whispered.

Ah kriff. Din winced. “So I’ve heard.”

“....Oh.”  Luke looked crushed.  “Nobody told--well. There’s a lot nobody told me,” he sighed. “About being a Jedi.”

Damn damn damn. Din wanted to throw his hands up in the sky.

“I guess that makes sense,” Luke mumbled. He was fiddling with the fish skewer in his hands. “All the other Mandalorians I’ve ever met have tried to capture or kill me. I thought it was just the Bounty…”

“I’m not like other Mandalorians.”  Din interrupted, desperate to turn the conversation. It was technically true, probably just not in a way that helped their relationship. Er--their partnership?  Their--whatever this was.

“I mean I like you…”

Din froze. What.

“You’re really good at fishing and Grogu loves you.  I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Din’s heart restarted in his chest again.  Was Luke...messing with him?   “You wouldn’t leave a mark.”

Luke blinked up at him innocently and fluttered his damn eyelashes.  “I could totally kill you in your sleep.”

The little shit!  “I’ll poison your tea.”

“It’s pretty much already poison. I’m immune.”

Heh, true.  “Your fish then.”

“I’ll just go grab a frog.”

“You’re staying here and eating my damn fish!”

Luke burst out into sudden loud laughter.  It was like a sudden fierce rainstorm in the way it showered over the camp. It startled Grogu, who had been ignoring both of them in favor of playing with some shiny rocks nearby.  He tilted his head and then matched Luke’s laughter with a baby chuckle of his own.

“Sorry! I think it's just my nerves talking but that just sounded wrong and so funny--”

Din just shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had set Luke off but he didn’t care. “Crazy Jedi.”

“Trigger happy Mandalorian.”  Luke gave him a giant smile.  “Hurry up and finish this.” He gave Din back the fish skewer and chuckled again.  Despite his comment about his nerves, Luke’s shoulders were relaxed and his legs were spread out comfortably by the fire. Din could stare at his lopsided smile all evening, especially as the sun set and the fire highlighted the delight in his eyes. The sun shone through the lighter parts of Luke’s shaggy long hair. It was now untied from the neat bun it had started in and looked soft and golden in the light.

Stars above help him.  Luke was beautiful.  Din was tired of denying the thought. He wanted to touch Luke’s face with his bare hands, run his fingers through his hair and that was terrifying. He hadn’t wanted to take off his armor for anyone, besides Grogu, in ages. Maybe with Omera...but this was much different. The feelings he’d had for her were a momentary weakness compared to the colossally bad idea this was to develop an attraction for this damaged Jedi.  Din had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring.  Even if nothing happened, there was the uncertainty of the next day and the next to worry about. Luke was a marked man and every day there was a chance something could take him out. Take him away. The thought burned in him like a chemical fire inside a reactor.  Caged deep inside of him, destructive it released, and burning with an intensity greater than Din could stand.

This was why he never got involved with people before he found Grogu. He didn’t know what to do with the intensity of his feelings and how to fit them into his unpredictable life.

“Din?” Luke’s smile fell slightly. “You ok?”

“..Yeah.”  Din did what he always did. He pushed his feelings away and tried to focus on the present.  What had they been talking about? Food. He sat and thought for a moment. Maybe...

“I have a contact on Tatooine, from a rural town few people have heard of. Mos Epsa.”

“Mos Eps--I thought that was wiped from the planet years ago.” Luke looked impressed.

“It’s still there.”  Din handed Luke a cooked fish skewer and settled back with his own. “We could go there, for a while. We’d be safe. I’m assuming we can both eat Tatooine food.”

Luke picked at his fish. “I do miss blue milk.”

Good.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

Luke chuckled. “You have a list?”

“Of safe planets we can stop at. We should have alternatives to the drop pods and not be reliant on the New Republic. My list is probably different from yours so we have more options.” Din stabbed his fish a little harder with his skewer to make his opinion of Luke’s employers known.

The smile on Luke’s face got impossibly wider. “That makes sense...Thank you.”

Din grunted. The smile on Luke’s face was too distracting.  Instead he looked down at his food. Oh. Right. Damn.

Luke made the exact realization at the same time. “Sorry! I forgot, I can go back to the ship--”

“Shut up and sit down, Jetti.” Din shook his head. He only hesitated for a half second before he reached up to his helmet and unlatched it. He opened it wide enough to take a bite.

“Or you could do that. Of course.” Luke babbled.  He turned his head so he wasn’t looking at Din.  Which was sweet. But also meant he wasn’t looking at his food.

“Eat.” Din growled. “All of it.” How was it this hard to feed a grown adult? Grogu gave him less trouble. Gods help Skywalker, Din was about to channel some of the fiercest warriors he knew to get him to eat more.

Luke gave him a mock solute. “Yes sir.”

Din began to reach for his sidearm.

Luke responded with a rather unnecessarily dainty bite of fish.

Din began to unhook his blaster.

Luke nibbled at one edge of a fin.

The blaster powered up.

Luke kriffing licked his fish.

“That’s disgusting.” Din gave up. He couldn’t help it--he chuckled as he powered down his blaster.

“Yeah it is,” Luke stuck his tongue out. “Fish is gross.”

“I thought you said you’d eat anything.”

“I do. I don’t have to like it.  I didn’t grow up eating fish, it’s both slimy and spikey at the same time.”

“You eat frogs.”

“You can eat a small frog in one bite! I’ve gotten fish bones stuck in my throat.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones.”

“Nobody told me that the first time. What part of ‘raised on a desert planet’ does no one understand?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Luke sat back. “I’m done now, mom. May I go now?”

Din sighed. “No.” He held out another fish skewer.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“How hard is the har--YIKES! NO! LETGO! ARGHHH!!!!!”

‘Yup’, Din thought to himself as he held the struggling, still too skinny, Jedi in a headlock.  He had it bad and he was going to regret this.

Tomorrow. He’ll regret it tomorrow.

“DJARIN LET ME GO NOW OR YOU’RE GOING IN THE SWAMP!”

Here’s hoping the desert boy could swim.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #6: Love, imperfect

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: angst  

–

“Do you think they’ll end up canceling people’s flights?” 

With her heart still stuck in her throat, Anna opened her eyes to look at the stranger sitting next to her on the plane. He appeared calm, but then again, she was sure that so did she. 

“I hope not,” she muttered before she gave him a tight-lipped smile and looked away. Another rough movement had her gripping the armrests and her stomach dropping. She kept trying to remind herself that airplanes were built to handle the worst—or so the article she’d skimmed as she waited at the gate had said. Even in the most severe turbulence, your plane isn’t moving nearly as much as you think! It sounded like a load of bullshit then and it sounded like a load of bullshit now. Plus, the exclamation mark at the end was absolutely unnecessary. 

The man next to her loudly cleared his throat. He seemed like he was trying to grab something out of the pocket of his trousers. Anna glanced at him. What the hell are you doing? she wanted to ask. The whole thing set her on edge for some reason. She just wanted to land in Miami already, call a cab and get to the address Elsa had texted her days prior. Was she looking forward to it? Not really. But it was better than thinking she was about to die and hadn’t even said goodbye to Chester, her cat. 

She’d told her parents this wasn’t a good idea. But her mom had insisted on some quality time because, “When was the last time the four of us spent some time together?” Anna had no idea, and she’d said so as much, which only aggravated her mother even more. But wasn’t she proud that her daughters were onto bigger and better things? Surely a few skipped holidays meant nothing compared to the pride their parents must feel on a daily basis. 

The turbulence continued. There was a storm coming. It wasn’t supposed to hit until late that night, which still allowed Anna to make it to Miami on time and probably even make it to Elsa’s apartment before the rain began. 

As to her parents… well, she really hoped their flight wasn’t canceled.

~~~

Anna could still remember the exact moment she became fixated with success. It happened on the summer day when she was ten years old and saw her older sister, Elsa, draped in four gold medals at the regional swimming competition. Their mom had signed them up for the swimming team at the community center after reading an article on the importance of sports in building girls’ self-esteem. Elsa had provided an aloof smile before she’d gone back to reading her book, but Anna… she was excited—she loved swimming. 

 When the season started, it didn’t take Anna a stopwatch to tell her that Elsa was easily the fastest swimmer on the team, often finishing races a full length ahead of everyone else. Anna would know, being that she was usually the one bringing up the gear. “You just need to practice more,” her mom would gently instruct when she complained about being last. So she spent the summer in the pool, with her dad dropping her off early on his way to work while Elsa was still at home, probably combing her pretty, perfect blond hair. Anna didn’t mind though, because she was sure all the effort would pay off in the end when she showed her parents and her sister how good she’d become in the final match of the summer. But things didn’t exactly go as her optimistic ten year-old self had expected. Elsa won four first place medals while all Anna walked away with was a cruddy participation ribbon with dry hot glue sticking out from under its cheap label. 

Watching Elsa standing on the podium, nodding humbly at the rousing applause with the medals draped around her neck and that stupid, perfect blond hair darkened still by the water, Anna was filled with a burning need to be up there. Because she didn’t just want to be a hard worker. She wanted to be a winner. 

But unless she wanted to grow up in Elsa’s superior gene pool shadow, she had to find another way to get noticed. In the end, she learned that if she studied hard enough and had a 4.0 GPA, she’d earn awards and scholarships. She discovered that if she steered clear of sports or sororities in college and filled her time with extracurricular activities like the debate club, she would be able to quell the worries in her head that her sister was the only winner in the family. 

Of course, those who truly knew her, knew how much she loved Elsa. It was one of those things that just… was. Inevitable and innate. In her eyes, Elsa was perfect. And she hated her for it just as much as she adored her for it. Because where she was clumsy, Elsa was poised. Where she didn’t know when to shut up, Elsa would say the right thing at the right time. Where she would feel inferior, Elsa would tell her just how much there was to admire. And where she would go weeks without contact, Elsa would give her a call, reminding Anna of all the times she has ever loved her. 

But that didn’t seem to matter in the end. Anna pulled away from the family in order to forge her own identity and so did Elsa. The Holmen sisters, thriving. The parents, proud. It was perfect. It should have been perfect. Except it wasn’t. 

Somewhere deep inside, Anna always knew there was something missing.

~~~

The night skies were crackling by the time she got in the taxi. The driver was requesting an address. The radio was giving out unsurprising news.

There is a thunderstorm warning already being reported by the National Weather Service in areas such as Miami, Miramar, Aventura and other parts of South Florida, with potential wind gusts up to fifty-five miles per hour—

“You’re shitting me,” Anna muttered under her breath, already pulling out her phone again. The first time she’d done it was to let Elsa know she’d landed. Some drab text that was responded to with a much nicer Can’t wait to see you! It shouldn’t have warmed Anna as much as it did but that was beside the point. 

Her mother picked up after the fourth ring. “Hi, honey. I was just about to call you. Did you land safely?” 

“Hi. Yes, I did. Did your flight get canceled yet?” 

“No,” her mother drawled. “It is delayed.” 

The man on the radio went on and on about flooding and frequent lightning. The first signs of rain speckled the car’s windows. The trees were wildly ruffled by the wind. 

“But you saw the news, right? It’s going to be canceled eventually.” 

“Even if it is,” Iduna said calmly, “we can fly in tomorrow. This isn’t an emergency. We can wait.” 

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “This was a bad idea,” she couldn’t help but say. 

There was a pause before Iduna spoke again. “Can you fault us for wanting to spend time with you two? It’s the only time of the year you’re free, given how holidays seem to be getting more and more complicated for you.” It was a jab, fair and square; exactly what Anna got from skipping Thanksgiving and Christmas for the past two years. 

“Could’ve been anywhere but Miami,” she still mumbled. 

“Miami is nice,” her mother argued. “Besides, your sister’s apartment has room for all of us.” There was something hidden in her mother’s voice that made her feel dejected. The underlying praise that Elsa always seemed to get even by the most offhanded of comments. Even when she wasn’t in the room. 

Anna was ready to hang up. 

“Just let me know when you’ll be flying in.” 

“Maybe you girls can catch up in the meantime,” Iduna suggested as if she hadn’t heard her, “I know it’s been a while for you too, but trust me, it’ll be like old times.” 

Looking out the window, Anna forced a smile even though no one was watching. “Sure, mom,” she said. Truth was, she couldn’t remember what old times even felt like. 

After hanging up, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. The ride was supposed to be a short one. Ten minutes or so, Elsa had told her over the phone some days ago. She’d sounded happy—excited in that demure way of hers that was stupidly charming and which drove Anna nuts in a way she could not explain. 

Was Anna also excited? It was hard for her to tell. Her knee began to bounce as soon as the car merged into traffic. Her palms were damp despite the coolness inside. Her heart was beating like it was trying to hammer its way out of her chest. No, she was nervous. Or maybe… maybe she was both. 

Maybe she was just a mess and acceptance was long overdue.

When the taxi slowed down and parked outside an apartment building Anna only recognized from pictures Elsa had shared in their family group chat, she briefly considered asking to be taken back to the airport. But instead, she paid the fare and allowed the driver to pull her carry-on suitcase out of the trunk amidst strong gusts of wind and a rain that was starting to pick up. “Welcome to Miami,” the man exclaimed—sarcastic given the circumstances—while all Anna could do was give him a smile she was sure looked more like a grimace. 

The wheels of her suitcase announced her entrance into the building. The lobby was empty; quiet in an almost unsettling way. She sent Elsa a quick message and ignored the sensation of her stomach churning in anticipation. A distant thunder rumbled as she made a left, slowly heading for apartment 112. 

It didn’t come as a surprise that Elsa was waiting for her outside. She was leaning against the door, flashing Anna a lovely smile she did not know she had missed until that moment. 

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” were Elsa’s first words. 

“I thought I wasn’t gonna make it,” were hers. 

Her sister met her halfway with outstretched arms that welcomed her with such gentle affection that Anna could not help but melt in the embrace for a brief pause. Elsa smelled like gardenias, faint and familiar. 

After stepping back, she stretched out a hand to grab a hold of Anna’s suitcase. “Let me take this for you.” 

“I—it’s okay. It’s not heavy.” 

Elsa gave her another disarming smile. “I don’t mind, Anna. You must be tired.”

She found herself blushing for no reason as she let Elsa take the suitcase and lead her down the hallway. “I’m not, actually. Just… weary. Lots of turbulence.” 

“Well,” Elsa dragged out, “mom called.” 

“Of course she did.” 

Elsa chuckled. They entered the apartment at the same time that she announced, “Their flight’s canceled ‘til tomorrow.” 

Anna rolled her eyes. “Shocker.” She paused in the middle of the spacious living room, taking things in. It all looked so perfect. The immaculate furniture, the carefully arranged throw pillows, the pristine wooden floor, the tall plant in the corner that looked real. And then the absolute mess of a storm that was happening outside the window. “I told her since the beginning this was—” 

“A bad idea?” 

Anna turned to where Elsa still stood in the hallway, a hand resting on the handle of her suitcase. 

“What—” 

“Mom told me,” she provided, a sad, apologetic smile slowly appearing on her face. 

Anna’s stomach churned. “I’m sorry. I just meant that—you know, Miami’s weather isn’t the best at this time of year and maybe we could have gone somewhere else like the woods or a small town or, I don’t know, New York or something.” 

“Of course. Yeah.” Elsa rubbed her arm in what Anna could tell was a sign of self-consciousness. “The weather’s pretty bad, huh?” 

“The worst,” she awkwardly agreed. 

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Elsa pointed her thumb in the kitchen’s direction. “I have wine. Would you like some?” 

Anna felt a sliver of ease. “Wine would be nice.” 

She sunk into the sofa while Elsa went to grab a bottle of chardonnay and a couple of glasses. Through the window behind her, she could see that the storm had gathered force. Gusts of wind whipped the heavy rain around while the trees were roughened by it, moving sideways as if tugged by a rope. The street lights, it seemed, shone for a deserted world. 

“Are you hungry?” Elsa asked once she was back from the kitchen. “I can cook something real quick if you are.” 

“I had lunch before getting on the plane,” she answered as she watched Elsa pour the wine. She let out an inconspicuous huff of breath, rubbed her sweaty palms on her jean-clad thighs. Guilt gnawed at her insides. But she meant what she’d said. This was a bad idea because of the weather. Nothing else but that. 

So why did she still feel so guilty? 

“Thank you,” she muttered when Elsa handed her the glass of wine. She watched her join her on the sofa, prop both feet up, fix her platinum blond hair by running a hand through it. Anna wasn’t sure why such a banal action drew so much of her attention. So she decided to look everywhere that wasn’t her sister. “This place is cozy,” she commented.

“It looks like it’s been pulled straight out of a catalogue,” Elsa said. 

“I mean…” 

“It’s okay, you can say it.” 

She chuckled. “Fine. It does. But it’s still nice, and it’s very you.” 

“Very me?” 

“Yeah, you know,” she shrugged, “perfect.” 

Something flashed across Elsa’s eyes that was gone before Anna could discern it. The guilt grew. She tried to mollify it. “You did a good job, though, seriously.” 

“I should take that as a compliment, coming from a successful real estate agent.” 

Anna rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips gave her away. Being called successful by the one person who’d always seemed to be better than her at everything felt nothing short of amazing. “I should hang a sign on your door that says ‘Holmen Approved’.”

Elsa laughed, which instinctively made her smile grow. “What an honor.”

A thunder rumbled in the sky. Anna wondered if it would be a good idea to close the curtains. Watching the city being trashed by a thunderstorm didn’t exactly scream comfort.

“This is my first Miami storm, you know?” Elsa suddenly said. 

“Popped your cherry then.”

Her sister’s foot bumped against hers. “Gross.”

Anna took the time to take a large swig of wine. She wanted to take the edge off herself; get rid of that nagging notion that this was bound to end up being a disastrously awkward night simply because she did not know how to act normal around Elsa. “So how’s the city treating you overall?” she decided to ask, aware that she’d probably asked this before but unable to come up with anything else at the moment.

“I can’t say it’s been bad,” Elsa said, “But I’m looking forward to starting the school year. I’ve had too much free time on my hands.” 

“So there’s no one in your life?” she found herself asking.

“I…” Elsa tilted her head, giving her a curious look, “I would have told you if there were,” she said in a voice that ignited in Anna a deep feeling of shame. How many people had she been with that she had not told her sister about? 

“Besides,” Elsa added, “I just moved here. You know I’m no social butterfly.”

“Right,” she said before she looked away. How could she have forgotten? Elsa had always liked spending time at home rather than being outside, meeting people and making new friends. She liked her books and her European authors whose names Anna could never pronounce. She liked her solitude, her quiet time. And yet… Yet, it had always been her the one unwilling to lose touch.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What about you?” Elsa repeated. “Anyone in your life?”

Anna found it a little comical that they were carrying themselves as if they hadn’t talked in years rather than three days ago. “No,” she responded, “Not for a while.” 

Elsa’s gaze carried a strange sense of intimacy. “I’m sure there’s someone out there…” 

She paused. “Right now? I hope not.” 

The hearty laugh that broke out of Elsa caught her by surprise. It was so uncommon in her that for a moment Anna did not know how to react. All she could process was the way she swooned despite herself, feeling warm all over and even, she dared think, happy. Happy in the company of Elsa in a way she had not been so in years. 

The lights went out some time later, while she was in the bathroom and Elsa was back in the kitchen preparing something to eat. It was one of those things that was predictable yet appalling, and the only thing Anna could think of saying in the middle of the pitch black room was, “Well shit.” 

Back in the living room, Elsa was moving around with her cellphone acting like a single spotlight at a club. She was lighting candles, placing them each on strategic places. “All these catalogue candles are finally going to serve a purpose,” she said, and Anna couldn’t help but smile at the offhandedness of it.

It wasn’t until they’d sat back down, bathed in the warm light of the candles while they ate and shared a lighthearted conversation, that Anna could have laughed at it all. 

Because her mother was right. It was like old times.

~~~

The window had ceased to rattle from the gusts of wind outside, but the power had yet to return and the rain had yet to stop. The food was gone and so was the chocolate bar Elsa had taken out of the non-working fridge. A new bottle of wine sat on the coffee table amidst lit up candles. The girls sat on each side of the sofa, facing each other. 

“There’s no way he said that,” Anna laughed. She was nursing her third glass of wine, more at ease now than she had been the whole two preceding days. 

“He did,” Elsa groaned while she covered her face with the hand that wasn’t holding her own drink. “And then he slipped me a note and winked at me. He winked at me!”

“What did the note say?” 

“Something about how he’d been crushing on me since I gave that Durkheim lecture in class. Can you imagine? How bold he had to be to slip a note like that to his professor?” 

Anna laughed some more. “Can you blame him though?” 

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she responded, embarrassed still.

“Kinda hard to blame him at all for having a crush on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I—” Anna paused. What did she mean? “You know, you’re just,” she waved a hand in her general direction, “you.”

Elsa arched an amused eyebrow. “Me.” 

“Yeah. You’re just… really crushable. No. Wait. That came out wrong. I just—I mean you’re just so pretty and smart and your hair’s always so perfect and you’re practically good at everything you do. So what's—what’s not to like?”

Elsa was biting her lip. It was very distracting. “You think too highly of me,” she murmured.

Anna frowned. “No, I don’t. Or maybe I do. But that’s because it’s true.”

“But it’s not…” She shook her head, trailing off. 

Lightning suddenly illuminated the room. Anna readied herself for the thunder while across from her Elsa began to recoil. The loud bang came at last, making her sister visibly wince.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” 

Elsa shrugged nonchalantly. “Thunder just makes me anxious.” She took a sip of wine as if to restate the casualty of her words, but Anna wasn’t convinced. She watched her closely for a handful of seconds while in her mind she struggled to make a decision. She dwelt on it, bit the inside of her cheek in hesitation. But in the end, the need to comfort Elsa won over everything else.

“Come here,” she said.

“What?”

Anna spread her legs open and patted the empty space between them. “Come here.” 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid, Anna.”

“If you don’t tell anyone, I won’t either.” 

Elsa bit her lip again. And again, Anna’s eyes traveled down to witness it. She set her glass of chardonnay on the coffee table. Might be best to stay clear of alcohol for the rest of the night. 

Elsa moved slowly across the sofa until she finally settled between her legs, facing forward. Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa’s midriff, and was unable to ignore how the whole of her seemed to react to the touch, the proximity, the warmth of Elsa’s body. She rested her chin on her shoulder, felt the way Elsa relaxed and leaned back. A smile appeared on her face. She could not remember the last time they’d embraced like this. 

“You weren’t scared of thunder before,” she pointed out in a soft voice.

“Probably one of those things that comes with age.”

She was amused by her answer. “We’re not that old.”

“But we’re not ten anymore,” came Elsa’s whispered retort. She finished the last of her wine and stretched an arm to place the empty glass next to Anna’s on the table. As she rearranged herself again, Anna paid close attention to the softened features of her face in the dimness of the room. She traced with her eyes the lines of her profile, the freckles that had always been fainter than hers, and the lips that, for some reason, kept drawing her attention tonight.

“What?” Elsa asked.

Anna blinked. “Nothing,” she said, heat prickling the back of her neck.

Her sister shifted slightly in their embrace in give her a side glance. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because.”

“Hasn’t dad told us enough times that ‘because’ is—”

“Not an answer,” Anna finished. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Elsa cast her another glance, lingering this time in a more intimate way. "Then tell me.“

She hesitated. “Were you always this stubborn?”

“No,” Elsa chuckled, “that was you. Stubborn and determined.” 

“Well, I had to be.”

“Why do you say that?”

Anna’s lips parted but no words left her. They were drowned in silence for a moment, the rain incessant against the window. What could she possibly say to that? How could she possibly explain that the sole reason of her determination—of her never-ending stubbornness—was the one sitting safely in her arms?

She rested her chin on Elsa’s shoulder and looked down instead, focusing on the hand that rested atop hers; on the hand whose fingertips had been drawing loose patterns on her skin only seconds ago, drawing a comfort she did not know she deeply needed.

“Anna?”

“Yes?” she answered, lost someplace else.

“Say something…”

She slowly tensed up. There was so much vulnerability in Elsa’s voice that she knew she wasn’t just seeking random thoughts and vacant words. But where Elsa wanted the truth that hid beneath her silence, Anna wanted none of the insecurities that came along with it. She wanted none of the detachment, none of the things that could separate her from her sister. Not tonight. Not again. But no matter how hard she tried, the thoughts persisted. Like a nagging passenger in the backseat of her mind, Anna could not ignore what had been so deeply ingrained into her life.

“It’s dumb,” she murmured at last.

“I’m sure it’s not.”

Anna breathed a weary sigh through her nose. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head to the side, resting against Elsa’s. Her mouth opened again, then closed. Words felt heavy in her tongue, reluctant to come out.

“Why won’t you just drop it?” she asked.

“Because,” Elsa said, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“Is that what you think I feel?”

“Is it not?”

At her silence, Elsa extricated herself from Anna’s arms. She moved in the sofa until she was facing Anna, sitting still between her legs, knees digging into the cushion. The light of the candles danced in the blue of her eyes, piercing Anna’s own until the air left her in one quiet rush. There lay an ardency beneath them, captivating and impossible to look away from, so much so that Anna’s desire to stay quiet shifted into something else entirely.

But then Elsa was talking again, and again, she was asking to know what was going on in Anna’s head. And out of everything she’d ever had to learn, why could she not have learned to deny Elsa a thing?

She gathered what she could of the scattered remnants of her past, of the cumulus of memories that ruled most of her decisions and shaped their relationship into what it was today. The impotence of feeling like she’d never be as good as Elsa turned into the impotence of being unable to put it into words. The back of her eyes stung. A lump formed in her throat. She waved a hopeless hand in Elsa’s direction, and let it drop in defeat.

“I look at you,” she finally said, “and I see all the things I’ll never amount to.” Pain flashed across Elsa’s eyes, causing Anna to look down at the space between them. “I can’t see anything else but that,” she softly added, “and it gets in the way… It’s been getting in the way for so long.”

“Anna, I…” She went quiet. Anna could see the way her chest rose and fell. The brow that was marred with sadness and regret. “I wish I’d known this sooner.”

“Why?”

“So that I could show all the ways you’re a much better person than me.” 

She let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s so unlikely it sounds ridiculous.”

“How?” Elsa questioned. She inched closer until her hands were cupping Anna’s cheeks. “Please tell me how so that I can prove you wrong.”

At the impossibility of looking away, Anna ended up lost in her sister’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered, deep down knowing she would never find an answer to that.

“I know you think I’m this perfect human being,” Elsa murmured, “and that I have everything I could hope for. But the truth is that all the accomplishments in my life could never compare to the mere presence of you in it. And still… I’ve always missed you, even when you were right next to me.”

Anna’s eyes fluttered closed. The walls were crumbling around her and all she wanted was for Elsa to become her solace.

A thumb caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch without thinking. Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest. Her voice was raw when she finally asked, “Do you miss me now?”

“… No.” 

Slowly, Anna opened her eyes. A tender smile was tugging at Elsa’s lips and, like a magnet, the depth of Elsa’s gaze drew her in. She leaned closer until they were breathing the same air and the buzzing in her mind had quietened to a vacant hum. The wind howled, but all Anna could register was the blood pulsing in her ears and the barest of sighs as she softly pressed her lips against Elsa’s.

It was sudden and overwhelming. An impulse fueled by a feverish pleasure that soon drove her to press harder by capturing Elsa’s lower lip between hers. She sucked lightly, eliciting the softest moans out of Elsa as warmth shot straight through her body and settled between her legs. It wasn’t until she nibbled, hoping to elicit a greater reaction out of her sister, that Elsa’s lips parted and their tongues met in a desperate need that would not be satiated.

Submerged in candlelight, their bodies shifted until Anna was lying on top of Elsa with both forearms framing her head. There was no pause in between, only the innate desire for more. Anna could feel her sister writhing beneath her, subtle movements of her hips bucking while her hands trailed up Anna’s back. The room was growing hot. She could feel the smoldering heat in this sweater she wanted to take off as soon as possible. But it was hard to do that when Elsa would not stop kissing her in a way she’d never been kissed before. Her passion shook Anna to the core. It sent waves of ecstasy through her body.

With one last sucking motion on Elsa’s lower lip, she kissed her way down the line of her jaw and towards the warm, soft spot below her ear. The scent of gardenias reached her nostrils. A low, throaty moan reached her ears. Elsa’s hand weaved itself through her hair as she bucked her hips for the last time that night.

The power came back on and all Anna could think of for a dreadful split second was that their parents had walked in on them. She froze with Elsa’s fingers still in her hair and her lips parted in a mix of shock and fear. She was panting, her arms shaking from the propped up position she was in. Below her, Elsa was dead silent.

In the seconds that followed, Anna quickly sat up and looked at her sister with wide, frightened eyes. Elsa’s hair was disheveled, her lips here rosy and plump. The air escaped her lungs in one quick, short breath.

What had they done?

“I’m so sorry,” Anna rushed out, all but falling off the couch on her way out of the living room.

“Wait—”

She did not listen. Her feet carried her down the hallway.

“Anna—”

She ran out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.

Blinded by panic, Anna sprinted towards the exit. She heard a door opening and shutting again, her name being called out. She registered the everlasting emptiness of the lobby before the front glass doors parted, leading her out into the night and a city that was still being pounded down by rain. There, covered only by the roof of the driveway, she froze again, aware of her feet clad in nothing but the mismatched socks she’d put on this morning and the flimsy sweater she’d wanted to get rid of mere minutes ago.

Elsa’s helpless voice came from behind her: “Anna.”

She heaved a sigh and, a moment later, turned around. Elsa was standing there, in socks and downbeat, watching Anna with eyes that begged her to stay. 

“I’m sorry,” Anna said, loud enough that it could be heard above the downpour.

“Don’t apologize. Please.”

“But I shouldn’t have—” She looked away, withdrawing into herself. Her mind was a mess. All that talk about Elsa being perfect must have gotten to her head, messed with her feelings. They got carried away, that was all. It did not matter that she’d enjoyed kissing her. It could not matter.

But Elsa… 

Anna looked at her again; at the person who’d always given her nothing but unconditional love and support. She saw the person who’d taken her out for ice cream after she flunked her calculus test in twelfth grade, the one who’d cheered the loudest when she graduated college. She saw the twelve year-old girl who’d turned six chocolate gold coins into medals and draped them around Anna’s neck that one memorable summer. She saw them all in the woman Elsa had become and was overcome by an insurmountable need to cry. Because Elsa had been the greatest constant in her life and still, Anna felt as if she were seeing her for the first time. Imperfect but beautiful all the same.

“Come back inside,” Elsa murmured at last, taking a step closer towards her.

“But what we did…”

Elsa shook her head and extended a hand for Anna to take. “What we did, we can figure it out together.”

Lightning gave way to thunder, but Elsa barely flinched: Anna was finally holding her hand.

They fell into each other’s arms the same imminent way that sunshine follows the rain. Anna let herself be held as she burrowed into the warmth of Elsa’s neck and hugged her tighter around the waist. Tears prickled her eyes before she shut them closed. They would figure it out, she reminded herself. Whatever this was—whatever this could be—they would do it together. 

“You know,” Elsa said after a while, holding her still, “I don’t think either of us would have made it very far in socks.”

“I did realize pretty late that this was a bad idea.”

Elsa hummed. “Seems like the night’s been full of bad ideas, huh?”

“Maybe not all of them were bad,” she dared to say in a voice so low that the words would have been lost to the rain had her sister not been so close.

“Maybe,” Elsa whispered, holding her tighter and placing a lingering kiss on the side of her head. 

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 17/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

November approaches quickly.  The surveyor is due to arrive in only a handful of weeks.  The horses are coming along just fine with their training.  Mulder’s relationship with Katherine feels like it’s moving forward at a pleasant pace.  Just before the last weekend of the month, he asks her if he might accompany her into town that Friday.

“Of course,” she says.  “But, you don’t need to ask.”

“You might have plans with your friends and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I would like to call on Susannah and Monica and Doctor Black, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome to join me.”

“Then, I will accept your invitation.”

“My invitation?  You invited yourself.”

“Did I?”

Probably the only thing he finds more delightful than when she raises her eyebrow at him is when she rolls her eyes at him.

He asks if she’d like to attempt to drive the wagon into town, but she declines.  She feels that she’s only just mastered the carriage and has not had any wagon lessons yet.  She’s more than happy to have him drive them.

Their first stop is the mercantile.  Susannah rushes out to greet them and pulls Katherine inside by looping her arm through hers.

“We’ve got the prettiest new fabric in that will suit you so well,” she says.  “I’ve been hoping you’d come by and held it just for you.”

“John,” Mulder greets, as he enters the store.

“Mulder, what timing.  The denim trousers you ordered arrived just this week.”

“Thank you, I’ll take them now if you’ll wrap them.”

“Already done.”

“Katherine has our supply list, but it looks like your wife has absconded with her.”

“Yes, she’s been waiting for her to come in.”

“I’ll just take a look at the catalog in the meantime, I may have a few other things to order.”

“Certainly.”  John slides the thick book of merchandise across the counter to Mulder.  “We saw Melvin ride through town a few weeks ago and take Doctor Black back with him to the ranch.  Heard you had taken a tumble from a wagon.”

“Just a little shoulder damage.  That does remind me, if you have any liniment, I’ll take a couple tins off you.”

“We’ve got Sloan’s.  The oil.”

“That’s fine, two bottles.  No, make it three.  I’ll bring one to the Doc.”

“He said Katherine patched you right up and did about as good of job with it as he would’ve done.”

“I guess if I had to compare the two, I much prefer the bedside manner of my wife.”

Mulder chuckles as John blushes and fumbles with the bottles of liniment.  He’s saved from any further conversation of his shoulder when Katherine appears with Susannah and some bolts of cotton fabric with a blue paisley pattern.

“Kate, you have our list?” Mulder asks.

“Oh, yes.”  She opens the little drawstring bag at her wrist and gives John the paper.

“Now that Katherine’s taken over from Melvin, you don’t have to translate his hieroglyphics any longer.”

“Yes, lovely handwriting.”  John nods and then starts to collect items from the list, all business.

“I was just needling your wife about that Sunday dinner get-together we promised,” Susannah says.  “You be sure not to keep her so busy she can’t do some proper visiting.”

“She is more than free to ride out at any time to come calling, but it has been a bit hectic lately.”

“Oh, we heard about your fall.  Doctor Black said Katherine did all the doctoring for him and he didn’t lift a finger.”

“It was a mild concussion and a shoulder dislocation,” Katherine explains.  “Just required a re-set of the shoulder and a good deal of rest.”

“John, put in for five of these undershirts here on page 67.  Kate, is there anything you might want from Montgomery Ward?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take a gander and put in for whatever you find with John.  I’m going to head across the way to the lumber mill just for a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

Mulder leaves Katherine at the mercantile and goes across the road to the mill.  It’s a noisy place with a lot of sawing and yelling and hammering.  The smell of sawdust is everywhere.  The air is thick with it and Mulder can swear he feels it clinging to him as soon as he gets within five feet of the place.

“Mr. Hartwell,” he shouts, waving his hat to get the foreman’s attention.

Mr. Hartwell leaves the saw he’s working with stuck in the lumber he’s cutting and takes his gloves off to shake hands.  “Mr. Mulder, good to see you,” he says.

“I’m soon to be in need of some lumber.”

“Oh?”

“I took over Old Man Goodwin’s plot and I’ve got a surveyor coming out a little more than a week from now.  He’s supposed to get me some plans for a bigger barn, new stables, and we’ll be doing a new bunkhouse and expanding the house eventually.”

“Is that right?  When might you be needing your order?”

“I hope to break ground by winter.  At least on the corral.  I’ve been clearing trees on the property and we can recycle some of what we’ve already got.  You still have a record on the build on my current plot?”

“I reckon so.”

“Let’s start with that same amount.  I’m about to run down to the bank.  I’ll tell Mr. Skinner you’ll be giving him an estimate and he can advance anything you need and I’ll take what I can get by let’s say, mid-December?”

“Well alright then.”  Mr. Hartwell nods.

“I’ll also be in the market to hire labor, so if you have anyone in mind you can point my way, I’d be most grateful.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you.”

The two men shake hands again and Mulder heads back to the mercantile.  John Jr. is loading up the wagon with their purchases.  He gives Mulder a wave.

“How are things with your sweetheart?” Mulder asks, helping to load the last of the crates from the porch.

John Jr. sighs.  “She broke off with me a couple weeks ago.”

“Well, now, that’s a shame.”

“She said I was boring and then the next day she was holding hands with Luke Doggett.”

“That the Sheriff’s boy?”

“Yes, Sir.  I can’t even be mad over it because Luke’s a nice guy.”

“Be patient.  You’re a hard worker and you’re not boring at all, you’re stable, like your father.  You’ll find a great girl one day that’ll appreciate that.”

“Naw, I think I’m done with girls for awhile.  I’m gonna save up and get a horse.”

“Well, horses are good too.  When you’re ready to buy, you come see me.  I’ll give you a good deal.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mulder chuckles to himself as he walks away from John Jr. and goes back into the mercantile.  Katherine gives him a smile that makes him want to wrap his arms around her.  He puts his hand at the small of her back instead.

“Ready?” he asks.

Katherine and Susannah say their goodbyes.  Mulder helps his wife up into the wagon seat and then they head to the bank.  He leaves Katherine at the line to the teller’s window and waves to Skinner who motions him into the office.

“I wanted to let you know that we’re moving forward on the expansion,” Mulder tells him.  “Mr. Hartwell should be coming by with an estimate for lumber.  I told him to speak with you and you’d arrange to advance him anything he might need.”

“I can do that.”

“I also, uh…”  Mulder turns his hat over in his hands for a few moments and then he glances out into the foyer of the bank before he shuts the door to Skinner’s office for a bit of privacy.  “If you can get word to my lawyers through the branch in Fort Worth that I’d like to update my will, I would appreciate it.”

“Certainly, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure I’ll need an update of my account holdings, so whatever they need they can have time to put it together.”

“What brought this on, if I may ask?”

“Had a fall from a wagon a few weeks ago.  Nothing drastic, mind you, it just got me thinking and I’d like to make sure that if...well, if anything should happen, there’s no question of what my wishes are.”

“Your wife would be protected, by law.”

“Not well enough.  I want to make damn sure the ranch will stay with her, and I want to make sure Melvin will be taken care of as well.”

“I’ll get word and if anything comes back from your lawyers, I will let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“Does she even know?  Who she really married?  How much you’re worth?”

“No.”

“You might want to tell her sometime.”

“When the time is right.”

↭

Katherine feels more confident this time when she pays the mortgage.  The teller is polite, calls her Mrs. Mulder, slides the card to her that she needs to sign with a fountain pen and she doesn’t hesitate this time to write Katherine Mulder next to the date.

She’s finished before Mulder is done speaking with Mr. Skinner, so she waits for him outside by the wagon.  She’s never really gotten a good look at the town before.  The row of businesses stretches long and wide.  If the bank is the end point, the mercantile is the start.  In between there’s a sawmill, a blacksmith, the saloon, an icehouse, a cafe, a flour mill, a bath house, a meeting house, the sheriff’s office, a barber, a boarding house, a livery, a laundry, and the house of ill repute, as Mulder referred to it.

She knows there’s a church somewhere and a school, but they must be hidden in the outskirts of the town.  Doctor Black must have his practice somewhere off the main road as well.  Monica had said she lives off the road that veers left from the bank and she wonders how many other homes are out there and where everyone lives.  The Byers may make their home as part of their store, but presumably Mr. Skinner does not sleep in the bank.  And she remembers that Susannah said he had a wife.

Mulder comes outside and stands next to her.  “When I first got here about the only things that existed were the mercantile and the saloon,” he says.  “Sometimes it seems like all this just sprang up overnight.”

“Susannah was telling me today that a Wells Fargo office is coming in next year.”

“Long overdue for that, if you ask me.  Nearest place to send a telegram is either Abilene or Fort Worth, depending on where you’re at.”

“How many folks live here?”

“I can’t say I know for sure.  If I were to wager a guess, maybe fifty or so in town.  There’s a lot of ranches around these parts that do their business here, so if you consider them to be part of the town, there’s got to be at least another hundred.”

“It’s strange, but I grew up in a city of twenty thousand people and it always felt very small to me.  But, standing here, on a street you can probably walk up and back in a quarter of an hour, it feels enormous.”

“Well, they say everything is bigger in Texas.”

“I have heard that.”

“Where to now, fair Kate?”

“Where does the Doctor live?”

“Up that way behind the boardinghouse.”

“I’d like to drop in on Monica first then, since the Doc is on the way back.”

Katherine takes Mulder’s hand to climb into the wagon and he drives them down the road, over a short bridge, and then past a grove of trees.  A house appears as soon as they clear the trees, like an island in a sea of bluebonnets.

“Goodness,” Katherine says.  “Monica said you can’t miss it.”

The rumble of the wagon must have alerted her friend.  Monica comes out to the porch, wiping her hands on a dishrag.  She waves and jumps down the steps to greet them as they come down the lane.

“I hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” Katherine says as she climbs down from the wagon.  “We were in town so I wanted to say hello.”

“Are you kidding?  I’m thrilled.”  Monica hugs Katherine hard and keeps an arm around her shoulders as she waves to Mulder.  “I’ve got cornbread in the oven that’ll be done soon.  You’ll stay and have a cut before I bring dinner out to John, won’t you?”

“Well, that sounds too good to pass up,” Mulder answers.

“Come on in.”

The Doggett residence is similar to the ranch house.  There’s a dogtrot that runs from the front to the back, but the left side of the house is all kitchen and dining area, presumably bedrooms are on the right.  Monica offers them chairs at the table and then checks on the cornbread.  Mulder holds a chair out for Katherine as she loosens her hat and removes her gloves, but he doesn’t sit down right away.  He moves over to a breakfront along the wall and runs his hand over the smooth wood.

“This is a beauty,” he says.

“My boy built that,” Monica answers, proudly.

“The Sheriff did this?”

“No, our son Luke.  I swear he was swinging a hammer before he could toddle.”

Mulder nods and continues to run his hand down the side and across the front.  “How old might Luke be?”

“Fifteen.  Just had a birthday on the 13th of October.”

“That’s funny, we have the same birthday.”

“Your birthday was the 13th?” Katherine asks.  She’s mildly embarrassed that she had no idea her own husband’s birthday had passed.

“I didn’t even remember myself until just now.”

“What year were you born?” Monica asks.

“1861.”

Monica closes her eyes and tilts her head for a few moments.  “You’re a three,” she says, with a brief nod.

“A three?”

“Yes, in numerology.  Your life path number is a three.  It means you like to inspire others and make them smile.  But, if you feel you’ve been misinterpreted you can become sullen and withdrawn.”

“Is that right?”  Mulder grins as he looks at Katherine and she raises her eyebrow.  “But, I thought I was blue and red.  Now I’m a number?”

“Oh, you told him about his aura?”  Monica beams.

“I um…”  Katherine can feel the heat rising to her cheeks as though she were caught gossipping.  Mulder must sense her discomfort for he finally sits down beside her and takes her hand before hanging his hat on his bent knee.

“One day I’d like to hear all about it,” he says, squeezing Katherine’s hand.  “I was just wondering though, Mrs. Doggett-”

“Oh, call me Monica, please.”

“Monica, that’s really high quality work your boy does.  How would you feel about letting him come out this winter and work on an expansion out at my ranch?  I’d pay him, of course.”

“I’d have to speak with my husband about it, but I’m sure Luke would be thrilled at the prospect.  He’s been at us to quit school for the last few years.”

“Oh, but he can’t quit school,” Katherine says.

“Well, most of the kids around here quit by the age of twelve.  They’re needed at their farms or ranches.  Luke’s been the oldest in the schoolhouse for the last two years and he’s been pretty anxious to move on.  John wouldn’t let him since we don’t have a farm and he’s certainly not going to allow his son to take on a job at the saloon, which is about the only place that’d hire a boy his age.”

“I’m going to be looking to hire quite a few men starting next month or so,” Mulder says.  “There’s plenty of room in the bunkhouse for him and I’ll see to it he comes home for the week’s end.  Your husband is welcome to ride out any time to check in.”

“I would keep my eye on him as well, if you’re at all concerned about that,” Katherine adds.

“Oh.”  Monica puts her hand on Katherine’s arm and smiles.  “I don’t doubt that.  My, what a lovely ring!”

“Thank you.”  Katherine runs her thumb along the side of her ring band with her thumb.  “My husband got it for me.”

They spend the next half of an hour with Monica Doggett, sharing a slice of cornbread and chatting amicably.  Mulder asks her more about this numerology thing and she happily shares with him more about his life path based on his birth date.  When it’s time for them to take their leave, Mulder offers to drive Monica to the Sheriff’s office, but she says she would much rather walk.  It’s just about her only time to herself and she enjoys it.

They ride back up into town and Mulder passes the bank to go down a smaller road behind the north side of the town.  He points out a house up the ways with a sign hanging at the front that simply says ‘DOC’ etched in wood.

For some reason, Katherine feels nervous on the way up to the doctor’s porch.  She knows she already made a good impression on the doctor, but still wonders if that was just politeness.  The doctors she knew from nurse’s training were mercurial.  Someone bearing a compliment one day could come bearing condescension the next, or worse.  

Mulder opens the door to usher her inside.  Doctor Black peeks out from behind a curtain and smiles broadly.

“Just my luck,” the doctor says.  “I’ve just set a broken bone and could surely use your assistance while I mix a plaster.”

“Of course,” Katherine says.  She immediately takes her gloves off and hands them to Mulder.  

There’s a young boy perched at the edge of the exam table, no more than five or six, sniffling and sullen.  Katherine moves to him and right away she can see that his left wrist is broken.  She smiles at him and takes a gentle hold on his arm, cradling his wrist in her hands so the doctor can get to work on mixing a plaster.

“My name is Katherine,” she says to the boy.  “Who might you be?”

“Joey Skinner.”

“Is Walter Skinner your father, son?” Mulder asks.  

Joey nods and then wipes his nose with the back of his good hand.

“Has anyone gone to fetch Mr. Skinner?” Mulder asks Doctor Black.  “I could run over to the bank right now.”

“Yes, why don’t you do that.”  Doctor Black nods to Mulder and then hands Katherine a roll of gauze.  “I trust you can wrap up that wrist.”

“Certainly.”  She deftly holds Joey’s arm with one hand and uses her thumb to pin the edge of the gauze down and begins to wrap.  “Joey, you tell me if this hurts, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, how did this happen?”

“I was playing tag with Grace and Emma and Isaac and I was ‘It’ and I was running and I tripped on a rock and I felled down and my hand hurted real bad.  Grace yelled for Miss Holly and Miss Holly bringed me to the doc.”

“Well, I think you’re a very brave boy and we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Now,” Doctor Black says, rolling a small table over with a bowl of milky liquid and wrappings.  “Joey, this might feel a little cold, but you do your best to hold still, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent wrapping,” the doctor tells Katherine.  “Would you like to do the plaster?”

Katherine nods and the doctor moves the table to her side so she can work.  She runs the wrapping through the liquid and winds it around Joey’s small wrist and arm, moving methodically.  She has experience with setting and wrapping broken bones, but never on a child.  She’s cautious, but tries to be quick for Joey’s sake.  Doctor Black provides her with a few short instructions as she goes.

“Beautiful work,” Doctor Black says when Katherine is wiping her hands dry.  “Joey, is there any pain in your wrist now or in your arm.”

“It’s kinda itchy.”

“Yes, it might be, but you can’t scratch right now, I’m sorry.  We’re going to let it dry and when it’s done it’ll be hard as a rock and keep your wrist in place so it can heal.”

Joey’s bottom lip begins to tremble.  “Is it gonna be on my arm forever and ever?”

Katherine puts her arm around Joey and rubs his shoulder.  “Not forever, sweetheart, just a few weeks is all.  And the doctor will probably check on it a time or two to make sure it’s healing properly.”

“That’s right,” Doctor Black says.

“Joey!?  Joey!?”  Walter Skinner bursts through the door with Mulder behind him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Joey.”  Mr. Skinner rushes over and for a moment, Katherine is afraid he’s going to grab the boy up in a fit of panic before the cast sets.  

“Everything’s alright,” Katherine says.

“What happened, son?”

“I was playing tag…”

As soon as Joey starts up with his story again, Katherine slips away from the exam table to go to Mulder.  “He okay?” Mulder asks.

“It wasn’t a bad break.”

“Good.”  He pulls Katherine’s gloves from his pocket and hands them to her.

Doctor Black comes up to the two of them and he and Mulder shake hands.  Mulder gives him the extra bottle of liniment he bought at the mercantile and the doctor thanks him.

“Looks as though your shoulder’s healed nicely,” Doctor Black says.

“Yes, well, I happened to have a very strict nursemaid to see me through.”  Mulder chuckles and Katherine demurs a little.

“If you think you could spare your wife for a few days a month, I’d be happy to have the help here.”

“Oh, I really couldn’t,” Katherine answers.

“Why couldn’t you?” Mulder asks.

“Well, there’s just so much to do.  And the expansion is coming up, so…”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”  Mulder nods to the doctor and at Katherine.  “Good skills should never go to waste.”

Katherine is all but rendered speechless.  She doesn’t know if she’s shocked or grateful or why she should even be so surprised.  Mulder’s the only man she’s ever known that doesn’t seem to want to control her in some way, who seems to want her to have independence as much as she wants it.  And she doesn’t just think he’s putting on airs of a generous husband in front of the doctor.  She believes that he means what he says.

“We’ll talk it over,” she says.

“Joey.”  Mulder produces a quarter and walks over and hands it to the boy.  “Next time you’re in the Byers mercantile, you tell Mr. Byers you want a bag of his best penny candy.”

“Gee, thank you, Sir!”

After they leave the doctor’s place and get back into the wagon, Katherine sits close to Mulder and holds his arm as he drives.  “Did you know Mr. Skinner had a boy?” she asks.

“Hell, until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know he had a wife.  He doesn’t talk much.”

“I think that minor panic may have caused him to lose what little hair he’s got left.”

Mulder roars with laughter.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 2 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

There's a time and place for everything, but not now.

You remind yourself of that and quite bluntly suck it up. 

All weaknesses are forced back down and corked shut, establishing a path for you to finish what you started. You went all the way out of the city just to meet up with Papyrus, and you were here to bring some sort of closure as to how you could approach him after concluding with your first meeting. Still, that's no excuse for you to be rude or break any of your hospitality rules, so you smile at the skeleton and thank him for the letter, it's contents you assume’s money judging by how thick and heavy the envelope is.

"This means a lot, but… Are you sure it's okay for me to accept this?"

"Of course it is! Alphys would be glad to fix your phone and even upgrade it for you!"

Now that makes more sense.

But that still doesn't explain why it's that thick and heavy. Whatever contents there are inside it remain a mystery as you wonder how that's possible and why it's even necessary to carry in an envelope what you assume is simply Alphys's contact information. Nonetheless, you store it away with the rest of your belongings and continue on walking until you make it out of the mall.

"I apologize for not, well… doing what we were meant to do today, but thank you for understanding," you say, keeping up with his pace.

"Of course. Communication is key, (miss/mister)!" He smiles back at you and slows down to a full halt when you both make it to the bus stop. "We can discuss all these matters later on, but wouldn't it be better for you to get a check up with your doctor first?" He almost seems to realize something’s off with his question and adds, "Not that your appearance is unpleasant, but that you simply do not look as healthy as the pictures Frisk showed me of you! You look... rather fatigued, if I’m to be honest."

"I'll…" You trail off when you notice you're beginning to compare both Papyrus and his brother's actions with Jerry's.

Jerry didn't notice how different you looked back at your meeting with Sans; rather, he only noticed you were with someone new, and nothing else.

He didn't demonstrate the same level of insight as Sans did.

And he didn't show as much concern as Papyrus did, either.

Jerry didn't-

"I'll keep that in mind." You shove all that aside and step inside the bus, Papyrus following after you. It's jam packed, so you're led to hold onto the nearest hand railing before it takes off.

While you wait for an opening to continue talking with him, more thoughts return to your mind, these about last week and how Jerry wouldn’t stop texting you information about the monsters no matter how much you ignored it all. The only messages you’d opened were the ones about who Sans was, and -- considering in what state that left both you and your phone screen in -- you’ve now established it upon yourself to not look at any other message Jerry's sent. If he wanted to warn you and Frisk about anything else, then he had to gather the wits to apologize for ditching his child for so long and actually reveal some sort of positive change in him.

Hell. When was the last time you saw him -- last December, maybe?

You let all those frustrations out through a huff and loosen your grip on the railing when you notice you've become too carried away with your thoughts. There's no reason for you to be thinking about him anymore. You were over Jerry’s bull crap a long, long time ago, and having him text you again after almost a whole year of complete and utter silence from his part couldn't possibly be enough for you to begin thinking about him again.

"I forgot to mention there's another thing from Sans inside that envelope," Papyrus says, serving as a necessary distraction from your overthinking mind. "He thinks it's useful for what you will be dealing with soon, now that you've made it your goal to learn more about Frisk's monster friends." The doors hiss as the first stop arrives. People begin to stand up and exit, leaving a few seats empty for both you and your companion, as well as those who were also left to stand and hold on. “How was your meeting with him, by the way?” 

“It was fine,” you reply, assessing his question and the change of tone that goes along with it. His once amiable tone changes for curiosity, almost as if he’d no prior knowledge of how your meeting with his brother went despite having proven the contrary back at the food court. It's sudden but subtle, though as much as you try to understand what it's caused by, you come out short of possibilities. “And he was nice. I wanted to pay for at least my part of the lunch we had, but he covered for it… And now you did the same today, too.” You chuckle at that thought and look up at the monster with a smile. “You’re both just as hospitable, I’d say.”

He sighs, a sound marked by relief. His face shows that same emotion based on how his gaze loosens up and how contentment returns to his expression, once clouded by that earlier one caught with his change in tone, still unknown to you. “It is not my intent to persuade you into anything, but… I was hoping you would both get along better. At first, it was for how worried I was that he would not adjust well to the Surface, but it looks like you could both benefit off getting along with each other!”

It becomes clearer now as to what his intentions are.

He was worried as any caring sibling would be for the other sibling’s well-being. It made sense despite how outgoing both skeletons appeared to be. The elder one looked to be the type to keep to himself more based on the sole, first impression you had of him. He knew when and where to joke around, he knew how to strike up a conversation, and he was thoughtful to a noticeable extent, but all that still didn’t cover up how he approached certain topics with you, even if he was still barely acquainted to you. Even if he was honest and even if he’d been earnest enough to confess his faults to you right on your first meeting, there remained something about him that told he was still keeping certain feelings to himself, such as that of a different weakness found beyond his mistakes. Papyrus showed that quality plenty both in subtle and blatant ways, such as when he admitted when he felt that he’d failed his friendship with Frisk and how he cried when talking with you earlier ago. Sans, on the other hand, didn’t quite reveal having any emotional bond in him when talking about how he’d failed his promise and Frisk in the process. Not that it meant that he didn’t feel any repentance over his actions, but that he simply seemed to take his job as a judge for the Underground into his real-life relationships -- using that mindset even outside the Judgment Hall. 

But, of course, you hardly knew him, so that could just be you overthinking the weight and significance of the situation and misinterpreting what could be a hint of introversion in the monster when compared with his younger brother.

Over-analysis aside, you consider yet another perspective regarding what Papyrus meant when he said he hoped for you and Sans to get along.

Was it really possible he meant that as simply friendship?

Or was he throwing subtle remarks about a possible set up?

“Do you…” A mild sense of guilt overcomes you at the mere consideration of that possibility, though it doesn’t stop your stressed mind from doing what it wants. “As friends, you mean?”

Notwithstanding his seemingly innocent character, Papyrus’s gaze widens and he looks away for a split second, cheekbones burning red. “Yes,” he replies, followed by, “I apologize if that made you think a different way. I just want him to have new friends and open up some more! Though now that you mention it, he..." He trails off and frowns. "He is a bit different from most of our friends. He is almost the same age as Undyne and Alphys, and yet he still hasn’t dated anyone to this day! That, and he always rejects the advances he gets from a few people he knows from Grillby’s bar.”

“Maybe he’s aromantic or something similar?” you suggest, quirking a brow and smiling at the sight of Papyrus's flustered state. “That’s normal, if so. It could just mean he’s not interested in a romantic relationship and stuff like that.”

“But I’m still worried about him -- He’s just like this for making new friends, too! And he’s been acting strange since the Barrier broke.”

Your smile grows the further Papyrus talks, and it’s almost a challenge for you not to burst out a laugh; not in a mocking sort of sense, but for the sheer worry he expresses both through his words and body language. It’s almost as if your personalities have switched, making it now his turn to show his own set of stresses, but in a far more composed way compared to your previously anxious state. He sighs and places a hand over his forehead, expressing his troubled thoughts yet again through the rub of his temples. “If anything, I hope it’s that… And that he’s not keeping stuff to himself!” He looks at you with a small smile and adds, “Could you…” He hesitates, though he recovers with a breath in and a harrumph. “Could you ask him about that one day? I do not know much about these topics myself, but… In the meantime, I was hoping if…”

He trails off for a second time.

At that chance, you intervene, saying, “Sure.” You let out a laugh, a simple sound that seems to be sufficient for the skeleton to relax again. “You both paid for lunch, and you’re here with me after I said I needed to talk with you about the whole situation at the Underground, so…” You take a pause as your smile grows. “It’s only fair I try to pay some of that forward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can find a way to ask him without being blunt about it.”

Tears return to Papyrus’s eye sockets as sudden as thunder on a clear, sunny day. At that sight, you offer him a hug, one he accepts just as quickly. His arms squeeze you tight, similar to that of a child hugging their favourite stuffed animal after a fright, and he nearly sobs into your shoulder afterwards, the emergence of that action incrementing his grip on you. “You are too kind, (miss/mister)!” he exclaims, capturing the attention of the few passengers still remaining in the train. “I will make sure the rest of us you have left to meet are just as cooperative with you!”

You release a quiet gasp, in needful search for air when he lets you go, and chuckle when you see his gaze is as hopeful as someone with a lottery ticket. Were you both not sitting and still waiting for your stop, you would imagine he would’ve hugged you for longer or further showed his gratitude through a bow. “It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little weak right now, but as soon as I go visit the doctor and get things cleared out, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help you guys get settled up here.”

Papyrus sniffles into the third tissue you’ve offered him today and trembles after recovering. He then looks at you with a clearer gaze and a fonder smile, both of these enhanced by the late afternoon sunlight beginning to shine through the train’s large windows. “E- Even if you… consider some of us as enemies by the end of it?”

“It would all depend on how it goes, but…” You rub the back of your neck and allow a pensive frown to take over for a moment. “Based on what I know so far, I doubt I won’t be able to help out. Even if some of you hurt Frisk, I... I still have to acknowledge how much you offered and did for them after you learned they weren’t an enemy.”

His hopeful gaze almost drives into a pitfall and a trace of guilt flickers on his visage.

All other surroundings and people present besides the chair you sit on, his presence, and yourself shift to a sudden blur as you can only concentrate on that change, too abrupt for your liking.

“About that…” he speaks up, hesitating. “There’s something I believe neither Frisk nor any of us have told you about, and that is-”a

Your destined stop finally arrives, interrupting whatever closely-hidden confession the skeleton was about to direct at you.

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[ironmandeficiency]

cody, where’s my lightsaber?

pairing: obi-wan kenobi / reader

word count: 6575

summary: you decide to introduce your dear friend to the wonders of the cannabis plant while planetside. the outcome is peak humor for your troops.

warnings: you’re smoking weed with obi-wan in this, so obviously there’s drug use.

a/n: i got high af (for the first time in a while) and decided to write something of it. i wrote like 90% of this while high and was beginning to sober up at the end. i got the title inspo from the stoner movie “dude, where’s my car?” and it made me laugh way more than it would have if i were 100% sober

disclaimer!! if you know firsthand what cannabis does from your own use of it, this isn’t anything new. if cannabis is a new concept to you, don’t take this fic’s descriptions as gospel. this was how i was taught & experienced it, but there’s a chance something may be “wrong” according to some ppl. this is NOT telling you to smoke weed if it’s illegal where you are/if you’re not of age to do so!! i’m not condoning it!! this was just something i decided to write after getting/while high.

“where exactly are we going, y/n?” obi-wan was sounding a bit impatient. you’ve been guiding him through the busy streets of coruscant for nearly twenty minutes without so much as an explanation.

“we’re almost there, obi. just have a little patience.”

“you must be mistaking me for my former padawan, i have plenty of patience.”

“could’ve fooled me, anakin- ow! don’t push me, obi!”

“that’s better.”

“you’re a heathen, you know that?”

“you’re as much of one as i, darling.”

obi-wan smirked indignantly at you as he kept walking, a hand resting on your waist protectively. he didn’t trust these streets at all, no matter how calm you were about just traipsing through them like a daisy patch. he’s seen and felt many shady and downright malicious people here and wonders what business you would have in such a place.

he was jostled slightly when you pulled him out of his thoughts and into the doors of… a caf house? was this all you wanted, to go get coffee with him? kriff, he could’ve taken you to dex’s and saved you both so much trouble (except for the suggestive looks he’d receive from dex concerning you, but he got those from a lot of people these days).

“what are we-“

“stay here until i get back. don’t let anyone else see your face or we’re both screwed. your face is too widely known to not cause trouble for us both, and my reputation here can’t save us. understand?”

obi-wan nodded his agreement but was quite perplexed. why did this place matter so much to you? he couldn’t ask you at the moment because you had disappeared with a flourish of your cloak into a back room, followed by a rodian woman who seemed to be expecting you. he didn’t want to pry and use the force to investigate because he knew you would tell him in due time. he trusted you with his life, and that trust extended to when you were at a seedy caf shop in the middle of the coruscanti slums.

you untied the small pouch of credits from your belt, being cautious to hide your lightsaber from whoever could be watching the transaction. your friend did the same with the item you were looking for, emptying a pouch from a larger pouch.

you slowly rest the credits into her palm as she hands you the smaller pouch. you opened it and brought it to your nose, inhaling the scent to ensure it was what you were expecting from her. this batch was going to be the best you’ve had in a while, you could tell just by the scent of it.

“i hope this pleases you, my friend.”

“indeed it will, torin. pleasure doing business again. may the force be with you.” with that, you returned to where obi-wan was trying his best to be inconspicuous. he was doing quite well, considering his unfamiliarity with his surroundings.

you nudge obi-wan through the force, gesturing towards the exit. he got your hint and once at your side, his hand immediately gravitated to the small of your back. it was adorable that he was so protective of you, but you’ve been coming here since you were a padawan, sneaking out of the temple and making deals in the slums for one of the greatest plants in the galaxy. there wasn’t anything you needed to be protected from here.

cannabis is highly regulated throughout the core systems to the point where what little of it was legally sold was extremely weak, thus resulting in a high demand for stronger concentrations in the black market. it’d cost most beings an arm and a leg for the quality product you buy (flesh or mechanical, no one was picky these days), but you’ve had connections to some of the best sellers for over fifteen years, and your loyalty paid off. they’d save you the best of the best because they knew you could be trusted, and that you weren’t the kind to sell them out.

you could tell that obi was a bit anxious. he didn’t know what you did when you disappeared with your rodian friend, but he had a strong suspicion that it wasn’t completely legal. “i can feel your anxiety in the force, my dear. i will explain everything once we’re back on base. in the meantime, relax. we are okay.” you sent him more reassurance through your bond and didn’t stop until you could feel his tension begin to evaporate.

he pulled you closer still, using your body as an anchor in a situation he wasn’t completely at ease in. you let him because it reminded you of your first visit to the slums you were taken on with the older padawans. you were anxious back then and still had a strong fear of the council, but with time your fellow padawans helped ease that fear into respect with the help of a routine trip to a near-hidden caf shop.

your return to base was a tad eventful. your commander biggs, marked by the violet paint of the 89th battalion, had several holopads in hand, each of them open to documents your signature was direly needed on. you sighed, bidding obi-wan farewell and returning to the duties the title of general brought you.

it was far too long until you were able to rest. after getting dinner in the mess with your men, you sent thrash off to deliver a message to commander cody, and then him to obi-wan. you avoided using your comms as much as possible during leave, they felt too professional during times where you were free to relax. there was a high chance that you didn’t even need to use your friend’s commander as a middle man because wherever cody was, there was a large chance that you’d find the general there alongside him.

that seemed to be the case when you were in your quarters, mere minutes after sending the message with your trooper. “i’m glad to see you got my message. now come in, take a seat wherever.”

“is this about our little trip today? i’ve been quite curious as to what you brought back.” you grinned at his words, excited to show him your loot.

“well then, let me show you.” you grabbed the small pouch from where it rested on your bedside table and poured some of its contents into your cupped palm, holding it towards him.

his eyes widened considerably when he processed what you were holding. “y/n, is that-“

“cannabis, my friend. yes it is. some of the best in the galaxy, as a matter of fact. came from the outer rim where there’s no limit on the strength.” this seemed to shock him and you were quick to assure him that you didn’t get the hardcore stuff. “don’t worry, it’s not mixed with anything else. i only use it to relax sometimes, and this batch is somewhat mild for my taste. i have no desire for much else.”

obi-wan wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. he had many questions brewing in his mind and wasted no time asking them. “why did you have me accompany you?”

“to show them you were trustworthy, in case you ever wanted to get some on your own. now you know where to find it.”

“why is your trust so valuable to them?”

“i’ve been a customer of theirs for a long time. in the beginning, i was the extra face that accompanied the older kids until they stopped going or started buying from someone else. eventually i became a solo customer and stayed loyal to them. they value and reward loyalty in their business, which is why i always get a good price.”

he took a moment to contemplate this. he was flattered to have been chosen to accompany you. one more question sprang into his head despite being unsure as to where it came from, and he spoke it with no qualms. “are you going to share?”

--------

when you had asked him whether he preferred a joint, blunt, pipe, or edible, he had a dazed look in his eye similar to when shinies see a jedi fight for the first time. you didn’t want him to feel awkward about not knowing what to do, so you decided to teach him what each method did, how long it took to take hold, etc.

as it turns out, obi-wan has never smoked cannabis in his life. 

he asked what the best thing was for a beginner, and you immediately began to roll a joint for the two of you to share. you chatted as you worked, your fingers going through the familiar motions with little thought.

your pipes had screens in them, but you didn’t want to risk obi-wan exhaling into the pipe and blowing charred chunks everywhere. edibles were a peculiar beast, since it takes longer for their effects to set in and can sometimes hit harder than a joint of the same concentration. the first time you had an edible several years ago you ate the whole thing, not knowing that the effects would be delayed compared to smoking. needless to say, you kept away from edibles for a long time after that and became finicky about them.

once the joint was made, you examined your handiwork with a smile. “this is a joint. you take the cannabis and wrap it in a special kind of paper, making sure to seal it shut so nothing falls out. then,” you searched a drawer and found your lucky lighter, flicking it on and bringing the flame to the joint resting lazily between your lips.

“you light it like so.” obi-wan watched you attentively, admiring the expert with which you took a hit off the joint, inhaling the smoke for a moment before blowing it away from you both.

“you slowly inhale from here,” you pointed to the end you didn’t light, “let the smoke stay in your lungs for a few seconds, the smoke is what gives you the feeling we’re looking for. and for future reference,” you took another hit before continuing, mildly enjoying the way obi-wan was watching your lips wrap around the joint. “never blow your smoke towards someone unless they explicitly ask you to. it’s a somewhat common practice, but i don’t enjoy it and i don’t think you would either.”

you held the joint outward to him, silently asking if he’d be comfortable with trying it right then before remembering something else he needed to know. “there’s a high chance that you’re going to cough a bit after your first couple hits. your body’s going to be unused to this, so be gentle with it. don’t expect to handle your first joint like a longtime smoker would.” you retrieved a water bottle from your small refrigerator in the kitchenette, setting it down beside him.

he took the joint from your hands, mimicking the way you held it to not look like a fool and slowly brought it to his lips. “remember, don’t let the smoke out too early or it’ll be like wasting the joint itself. since you’re new to this, try inhaling for three seconds, holding it in and counting to four before exhaling. does that make sense?”

obi-wan nodded slowly, his eyes studying the joint resting between his fingers. “if you don’t want to do this right now obi-wan, please don’t think you have to. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“i know you wouldn’t pressure me into doing anything, y/n. i just never thought i’d be doing this, it’s a bit of a shock to me.”

you nodded, relieved to hear that you weren’t making him uncomfortable. “that’s completely understandable. but before you do this, i want you to know that cannabis can have a subtle effect on your control of the force.” this was where your concern held the most weight. it was stressed to you a lot when you were first experimenting with cannabis as a padawan, that you wouldn’t have as firm of a grip on the force as you did when sober. you had no idea how this would make obi-wan feel or what would happen when he relaxed his grip on the force.

“there have been times where i don’t realize i’m using the force on something until it’s pointed out to me that something’s floating that normally doesn’t. don’t be alarmed, it’s okay. i’ll be here the entire time to help you.”

obi-wan took a deep breath, letting this information sink in. he seemed to be having a debate with himself last-minute, trying to choose whether this was worth temporarily losing some of his grip on the force. he came to his decision after a moment, the determination set in his jaw almost adorable because it was about cannabis of all things. his eyes flitted to yours as he brought the joint to his lips, following your directions exactly. he inhaled to the count of three and held the smoke in for a precise four seconds before blowing it out.

“you did that perfectly, my friend. now here’s the last rule of smoking cannabis with someone: it’s puff, puff, and pass. you take two hits and give it away, then it’s the other person’s turn to do the same.” his reply came through another hit that he once again held for four seconds, blowing it out with a smile.

he passed it back to you with a light cough that eventually grew a bit too much for his liking. he looked a bit frazzled as he coughed, unsure whether this was normal. you sent him waves of calm through the force as you snatched the water bottle from where it lay, opening it for him in a hurry before extending it toward him. he accepted it gratefully and was barely pacing himself while drinking it, only doing so at your request.

“this is okay, don’t worry. you’re okay, obi. everything is okay.” you placed a hand on his back to remind him of your presence, that you weren’t going to leave his side. he leaned into your touch, letting himself relax in your now outstretched arms.

you took two more hits before letting it rest in the ashtray you kept on your bedside table. obi-wan’s eyes were on the joint you let rest after putting out, wondering why you didn’t pass it back to him. “since this is your first time and we have no idea what’s going to happen, we should take it slow. this concentration is stronger than what i had started on, and the effects it had on me were intense then. i can only imagine how the next several hours for you are going to go before they actually happen, and i don’t want you to do more than you can handle.”

“oh, that makes sense. thank you for looking out for me.”

“of course, obi. now do you want to grab some snacks from the mess and come back in here for a while before it hits you completely?”

“yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

biggs was minding his own business in the mess when it happened. he was eating his dinner, talking to his vod’e, just taking advantage of being on leave like everyone else does. everything was ordinary & nothing was out of place, and he relished in that. the 212th and 89th battalions mingled among each other pleasantly like always. nothing could go wrong here.

“did you see that holo of kix tackling fives after he- hey, uh, biggs?” waxer’s voice cut off abruptly mid-sentence, eyes too busy staring at the roll levitating off his vod’s tray. “what’s wrong with your roll?”

when more brothers spotted the roll, the ones that were eating theirs quickly set them down. exclamations of shock and a large variety of curses were spun by nearly every man there, none of them having any idea what was going on or why their food suddenly started to float. soon enough, there were all different pieces of their dinner floating around the mess, some snatching their food back after watching the spectacle for a moment.

biggs knew what this meant. he knew exactly what was going on. “oh, no.”

“biggs, do you know what’s going on?”

“is biggs home in there? hello?” boil lightly knocked on his ori’vod’s temple until the hand was swatted away.

“tell us, biggs!”

“yeah, don’t leave us out of the loop!”

before biggs could answer the questions his brothers were throwing at him, his eyes found you hand-in-hand with general kenobi. he could see the grins plastered on your faces from halfway across the mess and he froze. was general kenobi high right along with you?

no, he couldn’t be… could he?

his question was answered by the food floating even higher when the two of you passed tables. he knew that when you were high, you had built up your ability to somewhat control the force through your haze. but with general kenobi (he still couldn’t believe general kenobi was high), it was quite obviously his first time under the influence. he ignored the questions as he watched the jetti like a hawk, your movements much less calculated and a lot more fluid and loose.

you were the one that noticed the state of the food first, stopping and nudging general kenobi and gesturing at the mess. you were giggling about it, and it was all you could do to keep the general standing as he began to laugh hysterically, finger pointing at a stray bantha steak a member of the 212th was chasing haphazardly.

“obi! obi, sshh! our men are watching, you gotta- pfft!” it was hard to keep your calm at one of the most composed men in the galaxy happily losing his shit. “obi-wan, stay calm! we gotta get our food without drawing too much attention!”

“but look at the food! it’s floating! they have no idea what to do about it!”

obi-wan started giggling like a child instead of full-on cackling, only doing a mildly better job at keeping the attention away from you both. this was completely his doing, no doubt. you turned on your holo and began to record the chaos erupting in the mess with the giggling jedi master leaning on you for support.

somehow you were able to get some food and leave the mess before it hit obi-wan too hard, you using the force to carry the trays in front of you both. when you left the mess, you heard a cacophony of thuds and splat’s echo into the hall. hey, at least the food wasn’t floating anymore.

you were helping obi-wan pace himself with his food because you knew that he’d throw it all back up if he ate too fast. he didn’t seem to understand why you were doing this, pouting when you would block his plate from him. it took a lot of strength to keep from laughing in his face but you held through with a face-numbing smile.

your comm beeped loudly, taking your attention briefly away from obi-wan.

“general-”

“biggs, we’re on leave. don’t use titles here.”

“sorry si- y/n. i’m also not going to ask for permission to speak freely because we’re on leave?” biggs ended this with a question, still unused to being so informal with those in authority.

“exactly! you’re learning quick, my friend. what can i do for ya?”

biggs sighed much like an exasperated parent before speaking. “did you get general kenobi high?”

you knew this was coming after the scene in the mess, there was no way to avoid it. but the way he said it, the incredulous tone your commander spoke with, it sent you into another fit of laughter. you nodded and laughed, not really processing the fact that biggs couldn’t see you nod because this wasn’t a holocall. he took your laughing as a confirmation of his suspicions and so did the brothers sitting beside him.

“hey y/n, do you think i could cut my bantha steak with my lightsaber?” obi-wan’s voice crackled through the commlink and nothing could have explained the unfamiliar looseness of his cadence to the men better than him being higher than the negotiator, which was exactly the case. “wait, could i cook a bantha steak with my lightsaber?”

you ignored the comm for a moment to answer obi-wan with a grin. “if you were patient enough when holding your ‘saber over the raw steak, maybe so. but if you cut your cooked steak with it, it’ll just char it beyond edibility and ruin a perfectly good steak.”

obi-wan paused to contemplate your answer, running through the scenarios in his head before being okay with your response.

“pardon?”

“sorry about that. obi-wan was just curious about the culinary abilities of his lightsaber, no worries.”

you could hear the laughter from the other side of the link and you were mildly curious about who was listening to your conversation. “who’s there with you, biggs?”

“waxer, boil, venom, cody, and myself. no one else.”

“y/n, am i swaying? i feel like i am but i’m not sure if it’s me or you.”

“okay, that’s good. just keep this between you guys and it’ll be fine. and no one is swaying, i promise.” you knew obi-wan would be mortified if the entirety of your battalions heard of this, but these five were loyal and wouldn’t speak of this outside of themselves.

“how’s the general taking it?” you picked cody’s voice out and you smiled at the concern he had for obi-wan. it was laced with humorous curiosity but you could tell he was a tad quite protective.

before you could answer, obi-wan chose to answer in a voice a smidge too loud. “hello, cody! i’m doing very well, but thank you for your concern!”

more snickering came from the comms, the five men enthralled with this new side of obi-wan. you had no clue why you didn’t invite the man to smoke with you earlier because high obi-wan was honestly the best source of entertainment you’ve had in a long time.

“biggs said that you two were the reason the food went awol in the mess earlier but didn’t explain why.” boil’s curious voice came through and you smiled at the reminder of what the men now dubbed the Floating Food Fiasco.

“cannabis has a tendency to weaken our control over the force. it’s normal for things to randomly float when a jedi’s under the influence because of that. like with the food, that was all obi-wan’s doing.”

“wait, i was the one moving the food?”

“yes dear, it was all you. now stop eating so fast. your stomach won’t be happy with you later if you keep on like that.”

obi-wan nodded as if he understood but didn’t slow down, prompting you to move his plate out of his reach. he humphed and leaned back, almost slumping in the chair. you did not want him throwing up on your watch. “y/n, is it normal to feel as though my bones are vibrating?”

this was the time to cut the conversation short. “well boys, it was good to talk to you but i’ve got to look after our dear general. contact me directly if either of us are needed, obi-wan’s clearly in no state to answer his comms.”

“will do, general.”

biggs ended the call, freeing your attention that was almost instantly caught by obi-wan reaching for his lightsaber. that wouldn’t turn out well at all. you quickly used the force to bring his lightsaber to your open hand, quickly connecting it to the extra loop on your belt. “return my lightsaber, y/n! i need to test your hypothesis about the steak!”

you sighed as you could feel him trying to get it back with the force but failing at his attempt, his lightsaber gently tapping against your thigh as it moved. “obi, you’re about to get hit really hard. it’s my responsibility to keep you from doing stupid things while high, and this is one of those things.”

obi-wan stood from his seat and was clearly having trouble standing on his own, if his leaning against the back of the chair was any indication. you got up and slowly guided him to your bed, laying him down gently. he seemed perturbed that he had to be guided there, mere feet from his former spot. it was hard for him to hide the slight panic upon realizing that he, in fact, could not stand on his own and you picked up on it.

“obi, i know you’re a little scared right now. this is something you’ve never felt and your body is telling you to lash out. but listen to me, everything is okay. i’m right here, obi, and i’m not leaving you. not now, not ever.”

he seemed to be soothed by your voice, so you kept talking as you helped him get a bit more comfortable. his boots were the first thing to come off, followed by his socks and the top layer of robes. you left his pants be but removed his shirt, softly telling him when to lift his arms and torso.

as you talked, you pressed a code into your comms to tell biggs to come to your quarters. since you didn’t know how long obi-wan was going to be in this panicked state or what he could do, you thought it best to have your commanders hold on to your lightsabers for now. biggs already had a loop for yours, and you knew for a fact that obi-wan dropped his ‘saber so many times that cody, the one who seems to always find it laying about, had been given one a long time ago.

it didn’t take long for biggs to arrive and take his leave, lightsabers in hand and holster as he left. you could feel his worry radiating off his force signature and you quickly chased it away, telling him that obi-wan was just crashing and that you weren’t going to leave his side. he seemed okay with this, leaving the room without another word.

obi hadn’t noticed the handoff through his resurfacing panic and you quickly got to work on reinforcing his mental shields, the only gap being where you sent him calm and peace. “why can’t i control my body? is this normal?” his voice was even quivering, a slight stutter beginning to form.

“this is normal for your first time, you’re okay. i’m right here with you, i’ll keep us safe. just take some deep breaths and focus on my voice, okay? you’re good, i’m not going anywhere.”

you were perched on the edge of the bed close to his head, your fingers carding through his peachy copper hair. whatever hair product he used was working wonders on his hair, it’s softness was unrivaled by anyone you knew. the ministrations seemed to calm him so that’s what you did, not letting yourself change the pattern as he occasionally pushed against your hand like a tooka. it was precious.

it took a little while, but obi-wan was on the edge of sleep and far more relaxed than he had been earlier. you were getting up when his hand grabbed for yours, tugging with what little energy he had. “i’ve just got to use the fresher, i'll only be a few feet away.” he huffed but let your hand go, clearly counting the seconds for you to get back.

you hurried as fast as you were capable of, finishing in record time because you knew obi-wan was still frazzled by this experience. “see? almost no time at all.” you returned to your spot and he grumbled something you didn’t completely understand. you looked at him in confusion until he spoke a little clearer. ah, he was asking you to hold him. yep, he’s a tooka in disguise.

you had no issue with this, knowing that some wanted physical affection/reassurance when their high hits them hard. you were among this group but it wasn’t a necessity for you like it was for other people. biggs had done this for you a few times, his presence so stable and comforting that it never took long for you to be asleep after an especially strong high.

parting the covers slightly, you got under them and pulled them over the jedi beside you. “see, obi? i’m not going anywhere. just relax, let yourself ride the high. i’ll be here the entire time. don’t worry, i’m here.” obi-wan wriggled himself into your arms and you wrapped them around him protectively, telling him through the force and with your words that you would keep him safe.

he seemed comforted by this thought and the feeling was increased tenfold by being so close to you, him glad to have someone to hold on to when he didn’t have complete control over his body. there were very few people he’d trust to protect him when he couldn’t do it himself, and he could fit the list on one hand; you, anakin, cody (and the entire 212th by proxy but that didn’t count right now), and more recently, ahsoka.

with thoughts of his loved ones in his head, he let himself relax in the haze and fall into a deep sleep unlike anything he’s had.

obi-wan came to and nearly panicked when he didn’t recognize his surroundings as his own quarters. not only did that shock him, but his body was… spasming? or were those just his bones vibrating? wait… bones weren’t supposed to do that.

he thrashed in the bed until his eyes barely caught the ashtray on the bedside table, and the events of the previous day nearly punched him in the face. he smoked cannabis! scratch that, he smoked cannabis with you! that somewhat explained the vibrating bones sensation and the way his consciousness felt like it was swimming through his head. these were your quarters, and he was sleeping in your bed.

the golden question was where you were.

his anxiety about being alone in your room spiked when he couldn’t reach out through the force to find you, his grip still too lax. obi-wan knew he had to leave at some point. if someone found him in your bed -and apparently shirtless- there would be many conclusions drawn, and there were some that could get you both in serious trouble with the council/senate (the line between the two was quite blurred these days).

he snapped himself out of his thoughts, resolving to get dressed and leave before anything bad could happen. sitting up was relatively easy if he did it slow enough, but standing? whole other game in itself. more than once he was leaning on various pieces of furniture while trying to dress himself. he was clearly still high, but it was nowhere near as strong as it was hours earlier. he continued to struggle (and trip over his feet more than once) with his robes and was relieved when given an excuse to sit down, his boots being the only thing reasonable to sit down and put on.

he gave the room a simple once-over and decided that it was fine how it was. your dinner trays from yesterday were gone and his lightsaber was-

oh, no.

“haar'chak!” obi-wan exclaimed. his lightsaber was lost in your room and he was barely able to support his own body weight, let alone do a frenzied deep search for his weapon! he realized that he had to find you before anyone else found him. you were the only one with him last night, and he guessed that you were also the only one that knew of his current state. and since he couldn’t find you with the force, he had to search for you the old-fashioned way: recon.

this wasn’t going to end well.

your comm beeped hours after getting obi-wan to sleep and you panicked for a moment, hoping to the force that he didn’t wake up. you tapped a code that told the other line to hold on a moment, and you slowly untangled yourself from obi-wan. stepping into the hallway, you quietly asked what the purpose of the comm was.

“general skywalker and commander tano have returned with the 501st, and the 104th have left. skywalker is asking for general kenobi and seems intent on finding him immediately. we’re in the hangar at the moment, but possibly not for long.”

you sighed because you knew something was going to go wrong. obi-wan can’t be sent to the field in the state he’s in, and he very well can’t tell the council the reason he can’t fight at the moment. before you could reply, anakin’s voice cracked through the link.

“y/n, your commander is clearly withholding information-”

“under my orders. thank you biggs, i will be there directly. in the meantime, please stay where you are.”

“yes, general.”

the link died and you rushed to the hangar, hoping that anakin wasn’t causing too much of a ruckus among your men.

he found you before you found him, the knight charging toward you with such speed that his robes were catching wind. he was extremely worried, his face taut with thinly-concealed distress.

“anakin, listen to me. you must take a moment to-”

“do not tell me what i must do! i haven’t been able to reach obi-wan through the force for hours! and then when i arrived to check on him at the last place he was known to be, your men blatantly lie to me! give me one reason why i shouldn’t worry!”

ahsoka’s distress paired with anakin’s fear/anger was nearly choking you through the force and you hoped that obi-wan was still asleep so he didn’t have to feel it. after sending safety to obi-wan and comfort to the padawan in front of you, you told them the truth.

“obi-wan smoked cannabis with me last night. that’s why his connection to the force was a bit off.”

“wait, he what?!”

“what’s cannabis?”

you and anakin both gave ahsoka an incredulous look, not believing that she didn't even know what cannabis was. then again, she hasn’t had the chance to spend much time in the temple and has spent even less time with fellow padawans that knew about the slums’ caf shop. you could let it slide. “it’s a popular recreational drug that i like to use occasionally. it doesn’t do anything bad, just relaxes you a bit. but for jedi, it can also weaken your control over the force which explains why obi-wan couldn’t contact you or receive your messages.”

“but obi-wan smoking cannabis? i don’t believe it for a second.” anakin’s tone was still bristly, which was to be expected. he was fiercely protective over his loved ones, and you didn’t need the force to tell you the intensity his emotions burned with.

your commander, unfortunately, took his words as a challenge. why he did, you had no idea. “with all due respect, general skywalker, are you calling her a liar?”

“biggs, stand down.” your commander stepped backward in shock at the harshness of your tone, his head downcast after the berating. you never used that tone with any of the men under your command and you regretted it almost immediately. you sent him an apology and he seemed to lighten up for a moment, so your attention turned to anakin.

“what would i gain from lying to you? if something bad actually happened to him, do you think that any member of the 212th would let me walk around here a free woman?”

“she has a point, master.”

“i also have footage from last night,” you raised your eyebrows toward ahsoka with a grin, thankful that her anxiety has died down. “wanna watch?”

obi-wan was sneaking around the base as well as expected. there were several close calls, and he knew that whoever was watching the security cameras would be plenty entertained. he paused for a moment, using the wall as a support before trying to use the force again, and this time it slightly worked. he was able to discern that he was going the completely wrong way if he wanted to find you. he didn’t have an exact location, but was able to get the general direction.

he was in the midst of pushing himself off the wall when he felt two more familiar signatures: anakin and ahsoka were nearby and anakin felt pissed. almost as quickly as he sensed his former padawan’s anger it dissipated into confusion, soon followed by humorous. okay, anakin was fine. it was time to get off this wall… or not.

he had pushed himself too hard through the force and collapsed onto the floor in exhaustion. obi-wan was conflicted: he could hope for no one to find him and wait until he was able to stand on his own before continuing his search; or he could hope for someone, anyone to find him, and live with the embarrassment of being so dependent and hope they didn’t take him to the medbay.

groaning when his head hits the wall, he tries one more time to get up (spoiler, he fails). he’s now regretting leaving your quarters because at least there, he had privacy when he was weak. he closed his eyes, resigned to nap where he sat but of course, footsteps pounding on the durasteel floors kept him from being able to do that. then the cannabis decided to show back up (in the good way), and the steady thrum of his bones vibrating brought a strange sense of calm back. he’d be fine if he just stayed here.

after showing anakin that yes, obi-wan was okay, you commed cody and told him to retrieve the general himself from your quarters and to bring him to the mess. when he got there and saw that obi-wan was gone, he immediately contacted glitch and scanner in the security department. they told him the direction the general went in, and he was off.

it felt like a lifetime before cody found his general slumped against the wall, a small smile on his face. cody could tell the general was breathing and all, but it just felt weird seeing him in this state.

“general! are you okay?”

“i’m, ah, quite well, thank you cody.”

“can you stand?”

“last i checked, no. and since then, my bones have decided to try and escape my body without consent, so i’m going to safely assume that i can’t.”

cody schooled his features because he was dangerously close to laughing in the general’s face at the way he stuttered through his words that still seemed to be semi-formal. “alright, i’m gonna take you to the mess. general y/l/n is looking for you.” the commander bent down and gingerly began to lift obi-wan, letting the jedi rest all of his weight on him.

“wait,” obi-wan instructed, cody going rigid on command. “what if i make the food float again?”

“we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, general. but for now, just focus on me. if you do the food thing again, i’ll be sure to record it for you.”

obi-wan seemed satisfied with this answer, then remembered the reason he left in the first place. “cody,” he mumbled, “where’s my lightsaber?”

[thethreemages]

*rises from the grave to finally deliver on a certain new story arc chapter*

...Heeeey everybody lol I know this may not be something anyone expected in like, ages compared to my other recent TTM-content... but well, ever since my last chapter upload from maaany months ago... I've just continuously kept getting blocked from wanting to get back more into the main story, especially with the influx of developing lore and side casts I've been having fun with a bit more in comparison.

But well, after some more heavy thinking and reworking a bit of how I wanted to frame the next few bits of the story to go (while still keeping relatively faithful to my original concepts)... here's the official next part to keep the main story flowing with some rather "juicy" drama ahead~

((Here's the DA Link for the fic itself in case it gets too cut-off here-))

===========

The eerie stillness of the forest was something all too familiar to those raised around this trek of the woods… but this night in particular was getting all the more “curious” for what semblance of peace was broken left and right....

On one side, a noble prince and a gentle strength mage were connecting all the closer together as they were quietly walking through the woods.

On another, a fiery prince and a gruff healer mage were stumbling into the middle of an ominous find… enough to have stirred up some lingering “threats” following after them.

And finally, as of now… a cunning dark mage was finding herself apprehended by a group she once looked up to, respected, and trusted…

“-I will not say this again! Unhand Me. This. Instant!” Prym Fletcher hissed towards the pair of guards who were roughly escorting her back to the camp, feeling tempted to have blasted them back already with her magic… had it not been for a fierce pair of eyes ordering her to keep still.

“Save it, kid. You’ve snooped upon very classified information against official orders, you’re not leaving our sight.” Taiyin Zhou replied back with a firm tone, “You’re about lucky we haven’t already arrested you as is…”

“Ughhh, I’m telling you I did NOT snoop! I had simply stumbled across your camp by accident!” the young dark mage insisted, her voice already growing exasperated with frustration, “Why won’t you believe me?? I’m Lady Meradyth and Sir Luka’s daughter, for Saint’s sake-!”

Halting in her tracks upon hearing that, Taiyin only turned her head to give a… rather puzzled look, “Sir… Luka? Um, sorry but... no one’s ever been registered in our ranks with that name…”

Rightfully confused as ever by that response, Prym had taken the moment to shove off the guards restraining her as she offendedly exclaimed, “Wait… w-what?? Oh, now this has to be a damn joke… Luka was once one of your top members back in the day! Closest friend to Ivor and my mother Meradyth, what do you mean by ‘never been registered’??”

“-Look, I’ve been here in the Elite for a good number of years, kid... and I think I would know if I was aware of anyone named Luka,” Taiyin furrowed her gaze to Prym in a frustratedly tired way, almost reminding her of one of the strict & overworked teachers back at St. Ravilda’s, “I don’t know what else to tell ya on that front, but we’ll be the ones handling the questions here, thank you very much...”

The younger mage could feel her fists clenching in a rising anger towards this woman’s insensitivity… yet didn’t have time to make another retort as a pair of familiar faces joined to greet them from behind Taiyin.

There stood the imposing General himself, alongside the stoic Alastair who gave a quiet look of disapproval towards his comrade’s harshness to Prym. In the meantime, Ivor’s face seemed to twist with many mixed feelings upon seeing his daughter’s friend. Shock, disappointment, confusion… and perhaps even a bit of fear?

“Prym… what in the Saints’ good names are you doing out here??” Ivor shakily demanded to know, the stern fatherly side of his kicking into high gear as if she were his own child caught in the act, “I told you specifically to stay back at home where it’s safe! Don’t you know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in, especially at this hour of night within these woods??”

“I… w-well,” Prym struggled at first to find the words, not wanting to risk giving away that Tula and the others were very much out there in the woods too… so, after taking a second to think and compose herself, she retorted back to him with an unamused tone of her own, “Hmpf… I suppose I should be more asking you the same question, Ivor. Don’t think I didn’t hear His Majesty giving you orders to collect this insidious-sounding ‘white plague’ for him… whatever the hell that means for his standards…”

“-Hey, what did I say about watching your tone, kid-!” Taiyin attempted to scold her… only for Alastair to hold up his hand to let the young girl speak her mind. Not exactly expecting Prym to have spun the question onto him now, Ivor gave a conflicted moment of silence… but eventually, an approving look from Alastair encouraged the hulking General the resolve to just admit what’s up, not seeing much else to lose now that she’s already here...

“The… white plague we were speaking of earlier, Prym… is a code name for this strand of white fungal root that had suddenly taken bloom within Graystone. These plants… they’re about the most devastating plant species our country’s faced in these past few decades… once was the stuff of legends within our oldest history books, but then… somehow some twisted, sick individuals decided to recreate these plants and spread them loose to cause countless amounts of destruction among the lands…”

Hearing of these plants made Prym’s eyes widen a bit in recognition… taking a moment to think on it, “Hold on, I… think I might’ve heard of such plants back in this one story Professor Blanchard once told us; an old crone who was jealous of the younger beauties in her town made up a mash of brew from these weird, white twigs so she could poison the girls, and absorb their own beauty to become a ‘goddess’. The plan backfired when it simply made the other men exposed to her inner flaws despite all her good looks, so she was cast off in a ritual fire to pay for her sins. Could… those perhaps be the white plague plants you were mentioning?”

One by one, Ivor and the others had given a nod of yes as Alastair floated up a steel box to open in display… revealing within a sealed-jar the shriveled up remains of a ghastly, half-rotted root… curled into a position like that of a crooked hand. Nauseating as the contents were to look at, the fact that this root was seemingly swimming in a sickeningly thick black liquid near the bottom didn’t help either…

“Indeed, Prym… this is the white plague we’ve been tasked by King Grayle to retrieve,” Ivor continued on to explain, “In our years of tracking them down, they’ve been linked to many terrible cases of people becoming infected when they didn’t expect it. Whether it’d be from injesting the root itself or the snow-like spores spread out into the air… its almost impossible to fully recover from it before its too late...”

“Yes… these roots were the ultimate cause of many terrible tragedies our country will never forget…” Alastair finally spoke up as cleared his throat, his tone serious yet solemn as ever, “Queen Elianne’s death, the double-crossed Wraith Night survivors, the village residents of Yulong…”

‘...Aevri’s hometown…’, Prym thought as she felt the tears prick to her eyes, remembering when her friend was given the grave news of her parents passing away of illness a few years back in school... so sudden and out of nowhere during a seemingly peaceful period of time. Long as it was since the last she saw Mr. and Mrs. Ren, Prym could still plainly recall them both being such kind, healthy-bodied people who wouldn’t hurt a fly… so hearing of them being the unsuspecting victims of such a ghastly plant this whole time was beyond tragic… “...even among our own ranks we’re all too familiar with white plague being inflicted right under us… ” Ivor admitted with a saddened tone, his gaze to Prym signifying she’d know who he’d talk about next, “The night Lady Meradyth had fled, the arrow blades recovered from the crime scene were found to be traced with this blackened poison linked back to the plague root… which, in connection to those other past incidents could only mean one thing..”

Not having to say another word, Alastair let his magic do the talking for him as he enchanted his glowing aura to shapeshift a group of silhouetted figures gathered together, each holding the white plague roots within their hands in an ominous, unified fashion. With that, signifying that whoever was perpetrating these white plague attacks… were all working together in a single, spread-out group.

Hearing all this was already pretty heavy for Prym to bear… breaking her more into confusion as she noticed Taiyin and Alastair turning to leave along with some other guards, “w-wait, where are you going?”

“Continuing the rest of the mission, kid.” Taiyin informed her, thankfully not as harshly as before but still firm enough to try and hold the young dark mage back.

“Yes, if our sensors are correct then its only a matter of time before these plague roots bloom upon the first morning hour. We must give haste at once.” Alastair joined with Taiyin as he packed some quick essentials nearby, looking over to his superior, “General, please inform us if anything stirs around this area while we’re gone, and we shall do the same in return.”

“Noted.” Ivor simply nodded as he gave some silent orders for the two to continue heading out. As much as a part of Prym wanted to say more in perhaps suggesting to go with them or however… her mind was still much too focused on the growing anger she had towards all these suspicions and secrets being kept from her. Not even letting Ivor reach to touch her shoulder in comfort, she had resigned to simply stomp towards the tent to cool off… the shining light of the moon following behind her.

——-

On another section of the sprawled forest, making their way through the thickets was Prince Elas and Tula… seeming to make good headway on the path they were on. Further back they had found some tracks being quite imposing enough to belong to no one else but Tula’s father,

“Okay, looks like it won’t be long to find Papa!” Tula had deducted, feeling some more confidence at finding another cluster of footprints up ahead, “my guess is that he might’ve set up camp just a few trees away, by this rate.”

“Indeed, I can’t say I can find much to disagree with that notion.” Elas gave an approving nod, analyzing some of the tracks for himself, “Seems to me he might’ve had some party members of his own crossing though here, so whatever he may be up to then he’s bound to not be alone…”

Looking on ahead in the direction they were headed to, something inside Tula was feeling… odd, and kind of confused as to how everything was going so smoothly at the moment. Perhaps… a bit too smoothly, as the forest seemed eerily still at this point in time.

“...Elas, does something seem ‘off’ to you?” the young Strength mage pondered, her gaze glancing around for any signs of possible life within the trees or bushes. At first, the prince didn’t seem to detect anything out of place as he stepped ahead… until his foot caught sight of something that made him jump back in shock.

“Oh good Saints, w-what in the world was...?” gathering himself to calm down, Elas took a closer look to find that his shoe had stepped into what looked like a puddle of thick, ghastly-white goo… the contents sizzling a bit under the glow of the moonlight above. Tula had curiously peaked over his shoulder to see what was up… only for them both to jolt back again once the puddle started to bubble and release a hissing, acidic green stench.

“-What is that stuff?? I-I’ve never seen anything like that in these woods!” Tula exclaimed with a clear worry in her tone, “Do you think any of the girls or Kain found-”

Halted in her thoughts was the ear-piercing shriek of something very much inhumane ringing throughout the trees, rattling both her and Elas from standing upright. Careful to at least not fall back in the goop behind them, the two helped pick the other up as within these shrieks, they heard the loud crashing and glowing of magic clashing near the distance ahead.

“-Kain!” Elas deducted, upon recognizing the reddish-orange glow from where he was standing, “He and Aevri must’ve found something dangerous up there, come on!” he encouraged to Tula while instinctively firing up some blue fire in his hands.

Answering back only with a firm nod, Tula didn’t take long to summon up her Strength gauntlets as the two of them hurried on to try and help the other mages. If only they had looked back behind them, they would’ve noticed how that white goo from earlier was beginning to fade away as a figure summoned it back into the darkness…

—-

The normally firm General was in quite an awkward spot having Prym stumbling upon such top secret info as she did… having hoped that tonight could’ve been just a simple detour mission without having to drag any of the kids along. And he knew that hearing the truth about the dangers of white plague had truly shaken her up… so, he knew that he couldn’t have any room to blame her for not being willing to talk to him at the moment while they were alone at the campsite.

A few more minutes would pass before he’d finally make the move to head inside the tent as well… looking to find Prym with her back turned from him, clearly lost in thought and conflicted.

“...Prym, I know what you may be thinking,” Ivor steadily began, trying to keep his tone as delicate as possible, “-But you must understand that this situation was... much too dire and dark for me to just confess it freely among you and the others back home. I simply wished to protect you all-“

“-Protect us from what, Ivor?” Prym finally spoke up, not so much defensively as much as she sounded… tired, “If you haven’t already noticed, me and the girls are not little kids anymore… if you truly meant to be on an important mission regarding these plague plants, then we could’ve understood if you simply told us. Otherwise I thought… well, with the King’s orders and that one lady’s coldness to me, I…”

“...I know. And for that as well, I deeply apologize...” the General lowered his head as he sighed, “Taiyin is quite a strong soldier, noble-hearted as well… but we’ve been meaning to correct her more about not letting her loyalty to the Elite get the better of her towards outsiders. I’ll be sure to have a talk with her when she gets back, I promise.”

Assuring as that thought was, as well as relieved at his genuine apologies… something in Prym’s mind was nagging at her to not let it go. Something regarding one, particular detail that wouldn’t leave her thoughts…

“...Ivor, earlier Lady Taiyin had given me this… really strange response to me mentioning my father Luka. Basically saying he… apparently never existed within the ranks.” Prym had turned to further face the general, looking up with a look of questioning, “You didn’t even directly say that he died within those other plague casualties, simply that there was poison found at that scene where Mother ran away. Is… there something you’re not telling me, Ivor...?”

“...Prym, n-now is not the time to-“ he looked quite shaken by her sudden accusation, but Prym continued to stand her ground further with a firm anger in her tone.

“-No. Now is more than the perfect time to explain- Why is it that all my life, I’ve been told my father was this grand, loving hero of the King’s Elite alongside my mother, giving his life to protect countless innocents… and yet now I learn that’s all apparently been one big lie?? Ivor, please what is the real truth here?? W-Was my father a true soldier, or not?? Was he working for some other party, dealing with some unsavory types?? Please, j-just tell me already, Ivor!”

Steadily her voice began to shake more to a near-sobbing tone, lip quivering as her mind was drifting to all sorts of possibilities… and one more question stuck out the most as she pitifully looked up to the older general,

“Ivor… is my father even alive…?”

Silence quickly fell upon the tent… as Ivor looked conflicted as to how exactly he should answer such a question, let alone in a situation like this. As the seconds were passing into a minute between them, Prym was afraid that… perhaps he wouldn’t give her an answer, that maybe it was a mistake to ask at all after she had already stepped out of line as is… until at last, the still air broke when Ivor delivered a simple, one word answer that changed everything…

“...yes…”

——-

On their end of the forests away from everyone else, things had… really picked up much more chaotically for Kain and Aevri, the two of them now lost in a battle between an eerie group of monsters clamoring around them. Resembling that of tall, ragdoll-like humanoids made of white tree bark… their gaping mouths and hollow eyes dripping with white goo could’ve easily shackled their two foes in complete fear, if they both weren’t so stuck in fighter mode right now.

“-Eat this, bitch!” Kain had exclaimed with some kicks and punches of his crystal magic blasts, encasing the tree-like creatures in red shards that pinned them all to the ground. Aevri in the meantime did her best to defend them both, having summoned her shields to ward off and slice away closing-in enemies.

“Ughhh, will you freaks get the damn hint already?? Piss off!” the Healer mage grunted, swiftly throwing her summoned-shield to knock back some of the foes before it flew back into her arms. Try as they might through their defenses, however… Aevri and Kain could only watch as the monsters had simply risen up more from the ground up, not even seeming phased by their earlier attacks.

“Oh for fuck’s sake… what the hell is keeping these things alive??” Kain cursed while powering up another set of crystal attacks, “Even a wyvern would’ve fallen down by now, shit!”

Before Aevri could’ve answered back with a possibly-snarky retort, their thoughts were halted as they saw a flurry of blue flames burning back the horde of monsters that tried to make a grab at the two… the sender revealing none other than Elas and Tula who had hurried on to join the battle.

“...Greeaaat, perfect timing, bro.” the younger Graystone prince flatly remarked with a roll of his eyes, his brother simply scoffing in response with a flick of his hair, “-Save the backtalk til after we’re safe, Kain.” Letting his companion Tula take the next step in pummeling down some of the creatures with her firsts, she at least gave a more grateful and relieved look to her healer friend at seeing her standing strong in the fight, “-Aevri! Thank the Saints you’re alright! I-I hope these things didn’t hurt you too much…”

“Pff, hey... what would it be a fight without a few scrapes?” Aevri joked a bit to lighten the mood, bringing a small smile to Tula’s face before the both of them turned to ward off the next wave of monsters. It almost seemed concerning just how much these things were reanimating up again despite the waves of attacks… only seeming to keep going and going within the next few minutes to pass.

All… until each of the tree dolls suddenly halted in their place like statues, the melting white goop re-materializing into their eye sockets properly as each of them stood up straight. Confusing the hell out of the mages that were fighting them, the four watched as these dolls started to assemble into some upright positions… almost like an army awaiting their leader approaching. And with a rustle of movement coming from the bushes from behind, that… actually seemed quite closer to the truth as a pair of footsteps came walking out from the dark.

“-Hey! Who’s there??” Aevri turned in the direction of the steps as did the rest of her party, all rearing for another big battle… but then pausing as they finally saw who it was. Turning out to be a pair of hooded, ominous figures greeting them in plain view… their features hidden from where they were standing a lil far back. All until they stepped further into the moonlight was it shown that they were both women, one of them covering their face with a featureless white doll mask… and the other simply smiling back in a rather calm, calculating way.

“Aww… whats wrong, little ones~?” the hooded figure with a mask tilted its head, giggling in a tone that sounded much too saccharine sweet, “Sister and I simply wanted to have a lil playtime with my babies here… don’t be so mean~”

Naturally, this quite frankly creeped out the young mages who were now all the more confused seeing the masked lady stepping over to gently caress one of the tree dolls, as if it were her most prized possession. Compared to everyone else ain was at least trying to mask his unnervedness by standing back more boldly,

“H-Hey, these things of yours attacked us first, lady… what the actual fuck are you on about-??”

“...Hmmmm, temper temper...” came the much more dignified voice of the other woman, shaking her head in Kain’s direction though that smile of hers still remained clear as day, “Is that any way to speak to your family… Kain?”

The once-fierce gaze in Kain’s eyes had… very much evaporated into a look of disbelief upon hearing that voice… the crystal auras in his hands disappearing as they dropped to his sides in shock, “...w-what…?”

Alarmed by his brother’s sudden distress, Elas had turned to try and step up in Kain’s defense as he demanded, “-What in the Saints’ good name are you on about?? Kain is my brother, and I do not recall either of you being anywhere near ‘family’!”

“-Shhhh, manners… young man~” whispered the masked-figure, holding a finger to her lips as all stilled around her… summoning an eerie aura that surrounded the other mages into freezing in place, much like the tree dolls. Unable to do anything but move their heads and faces, Tula, Elas and Aevri all looked on as only Kain was allowed to move on his own… yet all he could do was just shakily stand in place as the unmasked figure slowly approached him… again still smiling that damn smile of hers…

“-No, n-no no you can’t… you can’t be her…!” muttered the now-shaky voice of the usually-haughty prince… trembling as the figure was now up face-to-face with him. Even without being freeze-spelled like the others were, Kain could do nothing but stare as the figure reached up a hand to his face… gently caressing his cheek as her free hand moved to pull back her hood.

Now… there was really no doubt who exactly she was. The striking red hair, the ruby red lips, the amber eyes all too similar to Kain’s… save for the subtle signs of aging, he could never forget a face like that....

“Yes… it is me, my son~”

———

Millions of thoughts were running through Prym’s mind as she recalled what Ivor just confessed to her. Her father… her own father Luka… was alive all this time?? As much as she wanted to celebrate such news, another dark side of her was just reeling at the implications…

Where was her father, all this time she and her mother were in hiding? Why didn’t he come back for them? Was someone keeping him hostage, forcing him in place? What if… what if he willingly chose to abandon her? Not even sparing her a second thought, wherever he’s at now…?

Sensing the growing conflict growing within Prym, Ivor did his best to try and diffuse the situation as he reached to comfort her, “Prym, I… p-please try to understand-“

“-What IS there to understand, Ivor?? Nothing is making sense anymore!” the dark mage exclaimed as she threw up her hands, feeling her tears growing hot as she began to pace back and forth, “You say my father’s apparently alive all this time, but where in Terra IS he?? Obviously he’s not within the Elite ranks now, Mother hasn’t heard from him in ages, and none of the current Elite seem to know who he is! All I want now is the truth, and I want it now!”

“...” Ivor had grown quiet for the moment, heavily sighing as he gestured for Prym to follow him near one of the seats, “I… know this is very much against protocol, but… i-it’s about time you knew, Prym…”

As much as she would’ve liked to argue and stay pouting… the ever-curious side of Prym decided to relent in at least hearing his side of the story out, wiping away her tears with a still-determined look in her eyes. All she could do was watch on as Ivor went and grabbed an old wooden chest to carry over to her, opening the contents to pull out a sealed document folder hidden under some other papers and trinkets inside.

“Prym… your father was a man that had many burdens over him at his age,” the General began to explain, handing Prym the folder as he sat down next to her, “As much as he tried his best to fulfill his duties as a leader… others still feared and hated him for feeling like he took away what wasnt ‘rightfully’ his, on top of the already-detested dark magic he carried. And well… being his oldest friend, I knew that it wouldn’t be healthy for him to linger on all this bad press… so, it was my suggestion that he would involve himself more with our growing Elite forces, to help him lighten up from the stress of it all...”

Within her grasp, Prym flipped open the folder to see the first page contained a picture of Luka’s face on it, with the royal insignia of the Elite stamped below it. With a silent nod from Ivor, she flipped under it to see that inside held some various papers and photos from the old days of Luka’s younger years… from sparring with his troops, to happily posing with some grateful-looking civilians, to joining together with his team to stand vicariously together all at once.

“Overtime, your father grew to fit in well within the Elite for letting him express himself for who he was… beyond all the titles and dark magical stigmas, but as a loyal comrade who’d do anything for the good of Graystone. And since the local civilians didn’t seem to recognize him as a simple soldier like the rest of us, he had even felt comfortable enough to try and help out these communities through his own acts of vigilantism…” Ivor chuckled, unable to resist a small blissful smile at the memory, “Not too surprising that he and your mother grew to get along a lot well in that department, denying as they were at first...”

Pausing for a moment from browsing through the folder, Prym looked over to Ivor with a look of puzzlement, “...So, if you say my Father did all these great things for the people… why would they turn on him because he performed some darker magic spells than normal? I know Mother had mentioned that he enraged some uptight army for his necromancy, but…”

“...W-Well, truth be told, that... wasn't exactly the ‘full’ reason for his eventual attack, Prym...” Ivor admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Luka, well-meaning as he was… at the same time was always rather stubborn and reckless when it came to what he thought was the right thing to do, regardless of the possible consequences ahead. There was no better example for when he had stepped out of protocol in one of our missions against a local crime-lord of the downtown New Grayle district… Boss Byzantine.”

“Byzantine…?” Prym blinked, steadily recognizing that surname after a bit of thought, “-One of Kaz’s bully friends shared that name back in school… Cable Byzantine.”

“Ahh, yes… the Boss would’ve been Cable’s father, from what I recall of that man.” Ivor gave a nod of acknowledgement, “Often kept to himself apart from the few public appearances with his family… most wouldn’t even know much else of him aside from that automobile company of his. But well… we as the Elite were having our growing suspicions after examining more of how poorly the downtown area was, and interviewing the locals terrorized from his gang’s past attacks. And thanks to one of our undercover operatives, Sgt. Kodiak, we had not only started to put any and all accomplices in jail, but had planned in the near future to soon put Byzantine to justice too. Luka, however… well, turns out he had decided to take fate into his own hands by cornering the Boss one day in his office with his dark magic… giving into temptation with his soul-ripping spells to really show the crooked man who he was messing with…”

The air seemed to grow heavier as Ivor quickly grew quiet again, his gaze going back to the chest’s contents as he pulled out something else from under all the papers… a locket with a purple moon gem symbol on the front, “...In the end, thanks to some nearby guards catching wind of his actions, Luka wasn’t fully able to be rid of Byzantine as he hoped… but that would soon seal his fate as the Boss had subtly planned a “vengeance” of his own. And so, a few years later Luka and Meradyth had made plans to head into the Downtown area for a quick errand, picking up this upcoming birthday present for you...” explaining as he gently placed the pendant within the girl’s hands, eyes closing as he painfully recalled further...

“...and, just as they were heading back home… they were ambushed. A mix of Byzantine’s own men and a few hired hands from the army Luka has disgraced, together overwhelmed the couple in more ways than one. Within all the smoke, blades, and spells being thrown around it was practically impossible for either of them to evade it all on their own…”

“So, how exactly did my father manage to survive from it all...?” Prym turned her gaze to ask, a hand gently resting onto Ivor’s as he felt himself getting shaken by the recollecting… only pressing on further for Prym’s sake, “-Through having to spend a good chunk of his aura energy on teleporting Meradyth away from safety, and the last of it to unleash one, devastating blast to ward off the remaining foes, they were defeated and got taken into custody… but at a grave cost to Luka, himself. Our troops, try as we did to bring him back to heal him up, just weren’t able to stop the plague-induced infections from slipping him into a deep sleep. Hours had turned to days, and days turned to weeks… and throughout it we were beginning to lose hope. Finally, at last he was able to wake up and face us again, b-but…”

It was here that Ivor had turned to look back at Prym, placing a hand to her shoulder as he delivered the news that had shattered the shred of hope she had earlier...

“Prym… h-he didn’t recognize us anymore, and… neither could he remember either you or your mother when we tried to tell him after waking up…”

“...W… What? No… n-no that can’t be right..!” the dark mage bitterly broke into a sobbing mess, shaking her head in near-denial, “-What kind of father would just up and forget his own loved ones, his own family?? P-Please tell me this isn’t true, Ivor! Please…!”

“...I-I’m sorry, Prym...” a guilt-ridden Ivor muttered, instinctively pulling Prym in for a tight hug despite her protesting sobs, “We tried all we could, believe me we did… but this plague proved to be the most resilient curse on our fellow comrade, even with the best medicinal help. Showing him pictures, records, and home videos did little to jog his memory… after awhile, he started refusing our help all together despite our protests…”

Soon, even as toughened as he usually was… even Ivor has begun to shed some tears as he held Prym close,

“He’s changed so much as time further passed, Prym.. not even going by his name anymore whether he’s off duty or not these days. To the point where eventually we just decided to never bring up the subject of Luka anymore, with the very few remaining soldiers from our old ranks swearing to silence never to speak of him either. As much as we wanted to reunite him with you both in the coming years, we just… w-we didn’t want to task the risk if anything were to… well, go wrong…”

To say that this did anything to soothe Prym’s heartbroken state would be a lie… as in the minutes that passed her furious sobs had silenced into mere whimpers, whilst Ivor continued to do his best to hold and comfort her as if she were his own child. In some ways, this news had devastated her even more than her initial thoughts of her father being deceased. To even imagine having to go through as much as he did, miraculously surviving but erased of his own memories like that… it was beyond crushing of a thought...

...Yet, the more she had paused to think on this info, the more she began to realize the implications of what exactly Ivor meant by Luka not going by his name anymore. Thinking back to the folder left next to her, she couldn’t help herself in pulling away from Ivor… desperately flipping through until her eyes caught sight of the last page. Her father’s medical file.

And this time, even Ivor didn’t move to stop her as he defeatedly looked away, accepting that she had to know this sooner than later...

...our current patient has been confirmed to have been inflicted with trauma-induced memory loss, and by royal order we have been requested to withhold further treatment by his end. Our staff has grown worried with his own past history of ongoing PTSD and Chronic Depression, but well… as our fellow staff had put it, an order’s an order.

With a heavy heart, this concludes our progress into looking after our patient of the past year and a half... Luka Grayle.