#apparently there's a way to avoid damage tanking through it but that's what I did

[moonsinkfoxgirl]

they actually coded a complete 3D map of absolutely everything for you to find at the very end of the game

[crystalelemental]

Alright, another CS clear, this time aiming for a different approach: actually using -2 cooldown instead of HP +4 to get those last 200 points on offensive parameters.

This is a rough time.

General Overview While I did test other clears, I settled into this one. To be perfectly honest, there aren't many situation where I feel like offensive parameters are easier to handle than HP. The general situation where it made sense to even try was when you had a pair with very limited damage output, like Nemona, who gets a few bursts then nothing, and BP Valerie, who...honestly shouldn't even be trying to handle what she did. Off-typing is officially brutal.

That said, this is a really viable approach. -2 sync cooldown has a lot of benefits, but most specifically that it cuts an action from center in the rotation. If you're able to ensure a clear before their second sync, you're pretty safe, so long as you tank the first. This is accomplished any number of ways, be it boosted defenses, debuffed offenses, shields, etc. But the big one is preventing actions. Power On Hit gives the opponent a boost, but only when their attacks connect. Flinch/Sleep denials will completely shut down those boosts. Zinfogel apparently put out a video on this too, and brought up something I never would have thought about: dodge tanks with two-turn moves avoiding an attack also denies that boost. These methods help ensure survival against first sync, and once past that hurdle, many offensive threats suddenly stand a chance at a clear.

Make no mistake though: this is the limit. If points increase again, many pairs who can off-type only through these means will no longer succeed. It's rough. CS is officially reaching the point it's a super serious game mode again. You know. If you're fucking around. On-type is still piss easy.

Vs. Agatha I undertook this for my girl Nemona, and thankfully found it workable. I brought Lenora, whose Sp Def boosts answer Agatha well. Leer is also super useful to maximize Nemona's damage boost. Now, some may wonder: why Elesa? Why not an Electric Terrain setter? Two reasons. First, Terrain requires a shifting in parameters to Offenses +5, and as I'll tell you in the next one, that is a brutal time. The other is that Nemona's sprint capabilities actually make running with a Strike EX pair really valuable. She'll put massive dents in all three enemies, rapid-fire your syncs, and Elesa will finish the job. It's honestly great, and fairly risk-free in this scenario.

Vs. Bruno Unfortunately I then decided to be real stupid. Lodge Irida has some interesting traits, in the form of a solid flinch rate and a tremendous nuke. Sonia can max physical defense, and under Sun, Irida's sync is a one-shot on Bruno. After Sonia's EX Support sync. Which means you gotta eat a hit. Which is exceptionally challenging when you're taking Offenses +5. I don't really love this one, I wouldn't recommend it. But it can be done, thanks to some prior setup. Damage right side a bit, nuke Bruno, flinch left to prevent Earthquake, Flare Blitz can take out right, sync left to end. Irida has the right combination of offensive traits, it's just messy. But it's a good showing: flinch stalling with the sync cooldown -2? Viable. Another thing this one did was take sync cooldown -1. Which this means eating sync sooner, the tradeoff is that you now have two fewer attacks from center, and a good flinch on their first attack effectively removes all of Power On Hit.

Vs. Lance At this point I just wanted a bit of fun. Gotta have an H!Roxanne clear, you know? I will say, HP parameters would've been easier and safer. But I was surprised how easily they tanked Lance's sync. Like half damage. That's silly.

Vs. Lorelei Anabel is a big one, and my goal here was really to see how far you could drop damage even against offensive parameters. The answer? First sync was like 130 damage. Lorelei did not stand a chance. I think Iris even one-shot one of the sides with Dragon Rush. Well, "one shot." Factoring in Leon's chip damage.

Vs. Blue Okay so I had to. BP Valerie is one of my favorite things, and I had to see if she can still pull it off. The answer is yes but Colress is no longer sufficient. He just can't pump the damage high enough. SC Steven is mandatory, and even then this was stupid scary. Like, we barely won. That's how brutal these parameters are. I will credit Valerie, though. She did get it done, and I'm very proud of her.

Final Thoughts The biggest thing here is that sync cooldown can be worked with, so long as you survive. Some teams even beat it outright. I tried this with a few other teams, and options like Akari with SC Zinnia just ended the stage with no problem. Modern pairs with high offensive potential can still just tear through like it's nothing.

I also found out that Sprint has fantastic value here. The sped-up access to sync is divine, and suddenly I'm looking at Paulo like...oh shit, there's the value. Sprint + Support on a guy that gives +4 to both defenses is exceptionally good for this kind of stage. I don't know that I'd say he tanks well enough to make it come together, but I understand him now.

I do think on the whole that HP parameters are easier. The only exceptions are going to be for stages with gradual healing, damage dealers like Nemona who operate in short bursts, and pairs like BP Valerie who just don't have the damage output to take down HP parameters before they snowball. The option is still there. But it's definitely running up against the wall. Another 500 points added per stage, and we'll be looking at off-typing becoming a very specialized skill again.

[teawaffles]

Louis and the Aquaria: Chapter 3, Part 2

The next morning.

After yesterday’s incident, Moran was keen to know what Louis would do next — and so he headed to the hall with Fred, who presently had some time to spare. Perhaps it was because he’d been working late into the night, for Fred kept yawning as he rubbed his bleary eyes.

But the moment Moran pushed open the hall door, the startling sight before them banished all of Fred’s sleepiness in a flash.

“This is……”

“What the heck is this?” Moran exclaimed.

Dumbfounded, the two men stood where they were.

One corner of the hall—— had been turned into a dense jungle.

Numerous South American trees, planted in giant pots, were now surrounding the angelfish tank. At the same time, the two men were struck by the feeling that somehow, the room’s humidity had risen since yesterday.

Hearing Moran’s shout, Louis poked his head out from behind an ivy-wrapped tree.

“You’re being much too loud in the morning, Mr Moran. It’ll stress out the fish, so please refrain from shouting; but what on earth’s the matter?”

“That’s my line: what have you done here?!”

A flash of light gleamed off Louis’s spectacles.

“I was seeking a more conducive environment for my bro—…… no, the fish, so I have recreated a South American rainforest here. They were ordered a few days earlier, and arrived last night; I’ve just finished arranging them.”

Apparently, the luxurious water plants had just been the beginning for Louis. Even so, Moran had not expected this much progress in one night.

The situation raised so many questions that he had no idea where to begin. But for now, Moran refused to back down, and raised one of the problems at hand.

“First off, you were obviously going to say ‘my brothers’, but still: don’t talk about such grand feats as ‘recreating South America’ so lightly! No, I had a feeling about this. A normal person would reflect on what happened yesterday, and restrain themselves after that — but for you, you’re the type who ends up going amok instead. And yet, I didn’t think you’d do something as drastic as this!”

Moran had launched into a heated tirade, but Louis kept his cool as he replied.

“Thank you for taking the time to point out each and every one of those things. However, I believe I’m treating all of the fish equally; and in my view, it’s unfair to say that I’m favouring some of them just because some plants have been placed at specific areas.”

“What kinda nerve is that, to not even admit it after going this far…….. I mean, you are actually a little aware of it, aren’t you?”

“Also, it’s actually quite amazing that you’ve managed to remain calm all this while, Mr Louis……”

Even after weathering that torrent of questions, Louis was unmoved — and if anything, that had inspired a sense of awe within Fred.

“Well, it was us who said you were free to do as you liked. In any case, your love towards your brothers is certainly terrifying.”

To Moran, it seemed meaningless to continue arguing with the youngest son of the Moriartys, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his biased rearing of the fish. He gave up trying to persuade Louis, and went on to watch the fish as he normally did.

“…………”

He tried to focus on the vibrant fish before him. And yet, Moran couldn’t help but notice the trees standing at the edge of his sight.

Tormented by that conflict, he finally succumbed to temptation. With sure steps, Moran made his way toward the vegetation, and Fred followed cautiously behind him.

“……Well, if they’re already here, we may as well enjoy them to the fullest.”

Mumbling to no one in particular, Moran walked up to the row of trees. Using one arm to push away the leaves in his path, he moved through the greenery; then, his gaze landed on an aquarium placed on a nearby table. Inside, were some animals with incredibly striking colourations.

“What’re these?”

“They’re indeed very colourful,” Fred remarked.

Within the tank were several tiny frogs. They were a deep blue, and mottled with red.

The two men were full of questions about the presence of these unfamiliar creatures. Nevertheless, out of sheer curiosity, they moved their faces near the tank and peered in.

Louis, who was feeding the other fish, called out to them in a loud voice.

“Please don’t open the tank lid: they may look beautiful, but they secrete a lethal poison so deadly that some indigenous tribes of South America use it to coat the tips of their blowdarts.”

In an instant, Moran and Fred leapt away from the tank. Due to their natural athleticism, the distance they’d retreated was further than that of the average person.

As it were, they had narrowly escaped the jaws of death. But even as the sudden appearance of these poisonous frogs gave them chills, Moran stilled his pounding heart, and shot Louis a look of anger.

“Why are such dangerous things here?! Even recreating a South American environment has its limits, doesn't it?!”

“My apologies. One of my motivations was indeed to recreate the fishes’ native habitat. But more than that, I wanted to prepare for a scenario where Stapleton expresses an interest in other creatures besides fish. Hence, I began rearing these frogs just in case.”

As he said that, Louis made his way beside the tank. Opening the lid just a crack, he tossed in some tiny insects: food for the frogs.

“…………”

Seeing his practiced hand, at this point, the other two men had nothing else to say. In this extraordinary space created within the mansion they lived in on a daily basis, their ability to process information had long since hit its limit.

After confirming that the frogs had eaten their fill, Louis proceeded on an efficient path around the room to check on the rest of the tanks.

Moran gazed into the distance.

“It sure is amazing, what people can do in such a short time……”

But excessive zeal, once taken in the wrong direction, can lead to outcomes no one would’ve expected.

Even as various points had deeply impressed upon them just how amazing Louis was, at the same time, Moran and Fred also grew conscious of a certain truth in life. Once again, they stepped through the row of trees.

The two men parted the curtain of leaves, some part of them nervously wondering if those dangerous frogs had escaped, and walked up to the aquarium they had in mind.

“Oh, there they are.”

Seeing that the tank itself hadn’t changed, Moran finally breathed a sense of relief, and went on to admire the three “Moriarty brothers” swimming within.

The one at the head of the group was ‘William’. Right behind him was ‘Albert’, then ‘Louis’. Within the jungle Louis had created, the three angelfish shone in a way that lived up to their angelic names.

However, in contrast to the joyful Moran, Fred’s expression was serious. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Don’t you think…… its movements are a bit awkward?”

“Ah?”

Moran stared at the focus of Fred’s attention. Immediately, he perceived a subtle change in that fish.

Although it seemed perfectly fine at first glance, if one were to observe all three of them carefully, it was clear that the one at the head of the group was swimming a little differently from the other two.

“Is there something wrong?”

Louis came over, sensing something was off. But even before Fred explained the situation, he noticed the abnormality with ‘William’.

He put his face close to the tank, observing the fish for a few moments; but gradually, his expression turned grave.

“Oi, Louis: what on earth’s going on? Could it be that he’s sick?” Moran asked.

Louis placed a hand under his chin, thought for a split second, then quickly made a decision.

“——First, let’s move it to a separate tank. There’s a smaller one near the hall entrance: Mr Moran, please bring it here. Fred: please read the measurements from the devices installed on this tank and report them.”

Hearing those instructions, the two men assumed their roles at once.

Meanwhile, Louis took a notepad from his breast pocket, and checked the emergency response measures he’d studied on his own. Though he had already memorised all of them, he wanted to avoid any potential for error.

Moran returned with a small tank.

“Oi, is this one alright?”

“Yes, thank you.”

First, Louis transferred some water from the angelfishes’ tank into the one Moran brought over, such that it was deep enough for one fish. Then, he set up some equipment to confirm the water temperature and quality once more, then added a bit of salt to the water.

Watching him, Moran cocked his head.

“Why’re you adding salt?”

“Saltwater is an effective treatment for diseases in fish. Though it certainly isn’t all-powerful.” [1]

Saying that, Louis used a net to gently scoop up ‘William’ and move it to the tank they’d prepared. Although there were drawbacks to isolating sick fish, his priority was to stop the disease from spreading, as well as limit any damage that could be caused by the other fish.

As he worked, Louis listened to the measurements Fred read out, but his puzzlement only deepened.

“The water quality and temperature are both normal. As far as I can see, there isn’t any obvious debris or dirt in the tank, and the equipment doesn’t seem to be malfunctioning. In that case, perhaps some foreign substance had entered its food, or maybe it got stressed from its surroundings……”

“Maybe it got bullied by the other fish?” Moran asked.

Louis immediately dismissed that idea. “From what I’ve observed, there were no such quarrels between them. In that case, another possibility I can think of is the change in its environment.”

He cast a sideways glance at the trees surrounding them. And Fred picked up the implication behind that casual gesture.

“By ‘stress’, do you mean these trees? But it’s not like they came into contact with the water, so they probably didn’t impact the water quality, at least not directly. Also, weren’t they only added a while ago? To affect the fish so rapidly……”

“We can’t dismiss that possibility. Perhaps the changes to the view outside the tank had caused some visual stress…… Well, regardless of the reason, the blame for its ill health rests with me: the one in charge of its care.”

“…………”

After isolating the fish, the three of them remained standing where they were.

They gazed at the sick angelfish, swimming alone in its tank, with a sense of misery and frustration growing within them.

Footnotes:

[1] There is some truth to this: Practical Fishkeeping UK

[mypoisonedvine]

idk of you take dark stuff or even accept concepts/hc’s but i can’t stop thinking about dark steve and dark bucky & threatening 🥴🥴 like when ur bratty and one of them just grabs you by the neck and when you struggle he’s like “keep squirming and ill snap this little neck. you know it’ll be easy for me” 🥴🥴

yes and yes my friend, this is amazing omgggg pls hold while i write a casual ficlet nbd.  watch out for noncon, knifeplay, creampie kink (unwanted creampie? it’s more likely than you think.), choking, spitroast, degradation... it’s filthy yall

you KNOW they have no patience for brattiness, period

and they’ve been watching you for a while now.  they’re very interested in you for a few reasons: (1) you’re adorable, (2) you’ve got this innocent air about you, like girls used to be in their time, and (3) you’re clearly a spoiled brat and they can’t resist the urge to tame you

ever since you joined the team you had been clearly in need of some discipline

you weren’t much of a team player and you liked doing things your way, even if it meant disobeying orders from your captain and sergeant

occasionally you would run directly into harm’s way and it made them both angry because they were just trying to keep you safe but you refused their protection

why didn’t you understand that you needed them to take care of you?

“listen,” you let them know with crossed arms, “I appreciate everything you guys try to do for me--”

bucky winced at that.

“--but I don’t need your help, okay?  I’m a big girl.  I can handle myself.”

steve laughed incredulously.

“yeah right, you’ve got a bullet hole in your arm that says otherwise.”

“if it was in my chest, then we would be having a conversation about protection,” you frowned. “it’s in my arm because--"

“if it was in your chest, we wouldn’t be having a conversation at all,” bucky corrected.

you shrugged.  “but it’s not, so it’s none of your business.”

you turned to leave but you were stopped by a metal arm grabbing your jaw and roughly turning you around.  you yelped and tried to push him away but he was so much stronger than you.

“it’s my business because you’re my soldier,” bucky growled.

“I understand you’re not used to being part of a team,” steve chimed in, stepping closer to where you were helplessly pushing against bucky’s chest.  “allow us to clarify a few things that you still don’t seem to understand.”

his hands started to undo your tactical vest, all while bucky watched with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen.  normally he was stern, but kind.  now both of them were like two entirely different people.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked nervously and bucky just smiled.

“you need to learn a lesson about consequences, bucky and I are in dire need of a morale boost,” steve informed you with a low voice right by your ear, “it’s two birds with one stone.”

once the vest was on the floor, bucky flipped you around and held you to his chest with the metal arm around your neck.  as steve reached for the waistband of your pants, you kicked wildly and actually managed to land one in his side; he stepped back with rage building in his eyes.

“looks like we’re going to have to cut these clothes off.  if you keep fighting it’s going to do you a lot more damage than me.”

bucky’s free hand reached down and grabbed the knife strapped to his thigh; he ran the blade lightly along your jaw and neck, laughing at your whimpers of fear.

“where’d that fire go, sweetheart?  what happened to that reckless attitude that’s nearly gotten us all killed before?”

steve watched with crossed arms and a smug grin as bucky used the knife to slice down the front of your tank top.  the stretchy fabric pulled to either side as soon as he was done cutting, and your sports bra was exposed.  he delicately slid the knife right into your cleavage, and with one forceful movement up and outwards, it was cut in two.

you felt your face burning as steve shamelessly stared at your tits.  bucky tossed the knife to steve who caught it without even looking away from you.

steve stepped right up to you and stared into your eyes as you tried to keep on a tough face, though everything in you was desperate to look away.  all of a sudden, he knelt down and began cutting your leggings open.

bucky’s flesh hand groped one of your tits and it made you wish you had the strength to slam your elbow back into his ribs and get out of here.  you knew you could get some hits in but you would never get very far; they were super soldiers and you were... just a soldier.  their soldier, as they were so crudely reminding you at the moment.  you couldn’t escape but at least if you obeyed, you could probably save yourself from further punishment.

the shreds that had once been your leggings fell to the floor and all that was left was your underwear.  steve could’ve just pulled them down your legs but that wouldn’t have been as fun.  instead, he looked up at you with an eager glimmer in his eye, slipping the knife delicately between the fabric and your skin, slicing them off and watching them fall to the floor.

your naked body rubbing up against the rough fabric of bucky’s tactical gear was uncomfortable, but not quite as uncomfortable as his hard-on pressing into your ass, or the way he leaned forward and bit your earlobe.

“you win, okay?  you wanted to scare me, I’m scared as fuck, we can all go home now,” you rushed, trying to lighten the mood a little and give them what they wanted.

bucky laughed.  “oh honey, we don’t wanna scare you.  we wanna fuck you.  now stay still...”

you started kicking again; you couldn’t help it.  your body refused to just lay back and allow this to happen.  

“stop fucking squirming,” bucky hissed right into your ear as steve started to undress, apparently already sure this was going to happen even as you were determined to make sure it didn’t.  “I could snap this tiny little neck and it wouldn’t be any skin off my nose.  do you know how easy it would be for me, to break your fucking neck?”

you ignored him, still fighting; his other arm reached around and held your hips against him.  

“I asked you a fucking question,” he growled.  “answer or I’ll hurt you.”

you weakly nodded.

“glad we’re on the same page.  now go suck his cock,” he commanded, dropping you on the ground.

you sheepishly looked up to see steve naked and glaring at you with his cock in his hand.  you tried to get up but he shook his head disapprovingly.  “no baby, you need to crawl to me.”

you felt beyond humiliated but you crawled across the floor on your hands and knees to where steve was standing with a smile that blended pride with sadistic pleasure.  you could just tell bucky was watching you as he started to undress as well.

you had barely opened your mouth before steve was shoving it into your mouth and down your throat.  he used fistfuls of your hair to roughly pull you on and off of him until you didn’t even understand what you were supposed to be doing.  you just stayed still and tried to breathe, letting him fuck your face and trying not to listen to the gurgling and choking noises you made.

steve suddenly pulled out and yanked your hair until you were looking up at him.  you looked a right mess: hair tangled from his rough movements, eyes and nose red from choking, spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin.

“aw baby, you’re such a slut for your captain aren’t you?”

“fuck you,” you managed to growl despite your throat burning through every word.  

you felt bucky’s hands behind you running over your back and your hips, tracing shapes on your thighs...

“looks like this hole still doesn’t understand who it belongs to,” steve frowned as he stuck three fingers into your mouth, watching your cheeks stretch out from the inside.

“but this hole does,” bucky added as he shoved two fingers into your pussy.  and he was right; you were wet, nearly dripping.  you tried to protest but it was lost as steve wrapped a hand around your neck.

bucky rubbed his cock against your opening and you tensed up, but you had no shot of getting away as he held your hips against his, sliding his cock through your folds with a groan.

“when I take this hand off your throat, you’re going to beg your sergeant to fuck you.  because if you don’t, the hand’s gonna stay on until you pass out, got it?”

you nodded, desperate for air.  when he let go, you gasped and quickly sputtered: “please fuck me, sergeant!”

bucky grinned and pushed his cock into you, sighing at how tight you were.  

you winced but tried to avoid showing any signs of weakness.  it didn’t help much, though, because steve was shoving his cock back into your mouth and had somehow gotten even rougher, groaning as his cock hit your throat.

“when I come you’d better swallow it all,” steve hissed, “and thank me.”

it wasn’t much longer until he did, and you tried not to retch as his come coated the back of your throat.  the texture made you want to gag even more than you already were.

he pulled out and you swallowed thickly, looking up at him.  “t-thank you, captain.”

“for..?”

“thank you for coming in my throat,” you mumbled.

steve smiled approvingly, slapping you a few times lightly on the face in some weird form of congratulations.

“fuck, you’re so tight-- I’m already close,” bucky groaned after a few more minutes, his head falling back as he fucked into you faster and more erraticly.

“n-not inside,” you stammered through your haze.

“didn’t we already establish that this is my pussy?  ‘m gonna do whatever the fuck I want to it.”

“bucky, I’m not on anything!” you protested, trying once again to get away.

steve slapped your face with a loud pop! 

“you call him ‘sergeant,’ and it doesn’t matter what you’re on or not.  he’s gonna do what he wants with you, understand?”

you whimpered but nodded, fearing what would happen if you gave any more dissent.

“fuck!” bucky groaned as he spilled inside you; you could feel his cock twitch against your walls, and with his size it felt like you were being pushed to impossible limits.

when he pulled out and let go of your hips, you fell to the floor in exhaustion.

“see?  you can be a good girl, with just a little effort,” steve praised.  you weren’t even paying attention, too distracted by bucky using two metal fingers to push his come back into you as it leaked out.

“keep up the good behavior and we won’t have to punish you again,” bucky explained sternly.  “don’t you want to be good for us?”

you nodded and they both smiled.

bucky kissed your cheek and it was so sweet, so unfitting for the situation. “such a good girl, and all thanks to us.  we should’ve trained you this way ages ago.”

[cazimagines]

Hey again! Could I request Andrea x male reader in a secret relationship? Maybe reader is the grumpy town doctor & they take a shine to each other when he’s caring for him after the shipwreck? Thank you! - 🦇

Thanks bat anon! I'm going to assume this is a headcanon request like your last one but if you want me to do a one shot for it as well I totally can, it might just take me a while to get to it

So this ended up being more of the lead up to them dating rather than actually the dating part because I fell in love with this whole concept, I can totally write another headcanon or one-shot though for them actually dating if you would like that (bear in mind one-shots take longer to come out as I have a lot planned)

- Being woken up in the early hours of the morning was not ideal for you. You already had sleep problems, things none of your own medicine seemed to cure, so when you finally got to sleep you didn't want to be interrupted

- Yet seems fate worked against you as now in the early hours of the morning you were making your way down to the cottage, just further out of town where Ursula and Janet lived as apparently a young boy had been shipwrecked. You thought it foolish that anyone would dare try to go across the sea, especially in these times when the weather was dangerous, but then again you believed most people to be foolish compared to you.

- Being shown into the room, you requested that you were left alone with the boy to be able to examine him in peace. He was older than what you expected but he still had this boyish charm to him. He slept peacefully, likely sleeping off the whole ordeal. Whoever had brought him up here had already changed him out of his old clothes so now he only had the duvet to cover his modesty. You could feel a slight brush come to your cheek knowing you would have to remove the duvet to do a close examination of the boy but you tried to push it aside. You were a professional and he was your patient and so you had to treat this as such.

- No matter how handsome he might look

After removing the duvet and examining his body carefully, you concluded that he had managed to come off quite lucky with only breaking his ankle, someone that could be healed in a month or two. During the whole examination, the boy remained asleep and so you quietly left to tell the ladies then took your leave but still throughout the day your mind went back to that boy, he couldn't seem to leave your head

- You came back only a few days later. You could have waited longer but you knew that the boy would be awake now and you were curious as to what he would be like. When you first walk into the room the boy is startled, looking you up and down unsurely. You hold up your medical box and point to his ankle letting him know who you are, 'My name is y/n, I'm the doctor of the village' the boy would nod, shifting the duvet to uncover his ankle. 'Andrea, Andrea Marowski' he would tell you.

- From his accent and the lack of words he spoke you were quick to realise he wasn't English and likely didn't know much English so you didn't say much in return, instead getting to work on examining his ankle. You felt alongside it, pressing your fingers against it till you heard him hiss in pain. As you looked up at him he looked away embarrassed. 'Pain is nothing to be ashamed of' you tell him as you continue to examine him. He nods, a slight blush coming to his cheeks.

- Finally, you estimate that he should take around a month to recover in bed. You hold up your finger saying '1 month' loudly in the hope he would understand, which he seemingly is able to do. 'Ah, danker' he tells you. You raise an eyebrow surprised, he didn't have a German accent but he did know German. You were no fool, you knew tensions were rising in Germany, especially after the world war. If people knew Andrea spoke German things might not turn out well for him. You didn't mind though, he seemed nice enough.

- You turn to leave but Andrea calls out your name, 'Auf Wiedersehen y/n' you could feel your cheeks blush slightly as you nod at him. 'Goodbye Andrea'

- You came back quite a few times to check to see how Andrea was doing, more visits than to your usual patients. You claimed to the two ladies it was because you wanted to check to make sure he doesn't damage it more as he doesn't fully understand what to do and what not to do as he didn't understand English but you weren't sure if they truly believed you

- Finally, you were able to bring crutches along with you so Andrea could get out of the bed at last. You told Janet and Ursula it should just be him and you so he wouldn't get embarrassed if he fell over in front of them but they insisted on being there much to your annoyance

- You helped him off the bed, your arms holding onto his waist as you steadied him. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you felt his body in your arms, his back pressed against yours, your cheeks already reddening but once again you try to push those feelings aside.

- When he firsts try to stand on his own he falls slightly, unable to support his weight but you manage to catch him in your arms. You hold him tightly to you, trying to support his weight and for a moment, just for a moment you both look at each other in the eyes, only a few inches apart, frozen. But the moment was quickly up with Ursula helping Andrea back to his feet

- Finally, he was able to get the hang of the crutches and was able to move around well in them which is what you took as your moment to leave, it wouldn't be too long till Andrea's ankle was fully healed and wouldn't need you checking up on him anymore

- Once again as you started to leave Andrea called out to you. This time instead of him just saying goodbye he hops over to you and pulls you into a hug, patting your back. You freeze at the contact, turning bright red as you quickly say goodbye and rush out of the house

- You didn't return back to the cottage after that incident, to embarrassed by how you had acted. You hadn't heard any rumours go by about you apart from the usual of who you might be seeing, which woman do you have the fancy for. You hoped that none of them realised why you were acting the way you were around Andrea

- One day however you hear a knock at the door, opening it you stared wide-eyed as Andrea stood before you, no longer needing the crutched, he held them in one and in the other was a bouquet of flowers. 'Tank you for helping me' he said, smiling widely

- Quickly with one hand you grab Andrea and pull him into the cottage, briefly looking outside to make sure no one had seen Andrea standing outside your house with a bunch of flowers. You slam the door shut as you turn around to look at the confused face. 'I no understand' he says. 'Men don't give men flowers' you whisper, 'Men only give women flowers, giving other men flowers is... is improper'

- Andrea looks down at the flowers in his hands sadly, 'They reminded me of you' you felt your heartbeat pick up and gently you take the flowers out of his hand, bringing them to your face to smell the lovely fragrance. 'They are lovely Andrea' Andreas smile picked up again as he watches you grab a vase of water and put them on the table. As you turn around you see Andrea had placed the crutches down as was now wandering around your cottage. For the rest of the day, you two made polite convocation, as you remarked at how much English Andrea had managed to learn. Eventually, he had to leave and you saw him off, your heart beating quickly as you watch him leave. As you close the door your back hits it and you slide down, finally acknowledging to yourself just how much Andrea had taken over your heart but also how no matter how much you might want to. You can't have him.

- Tonight was the harvest festival dance. You usually avoided such occasions, never finding any fun in them but tonight you put your best suit on and headed down in hopes that you might see him. Arriving you could see Andrea sitting down at one of the tables, talking to the other men there. There was hardly any room on the table so instead, you choose to stand at the side of the room awkwardly. Every once in a while you would look around the room and ladies eyes would catch yours, raising their eyebrows trying to see if you would invite them to dance but you just scowl back at them as your eyes flicker back to Andrea's once again

- Your interest finally picked up when Andrea suddenly jumped onto the stage and picked out the violin. You moved towards the middle of the room, very curious. When he started to play it felt like your heart lit up, his beautiful music strung a chord within you. As you listened and watched him play a big smile plastered your lips, enjoying seeing how happy Andrea looked upon that stage, playing out till his heart's content. You clapped along with the music, your heart swelling at all the love and admiration you felt for him.

- As he finished playing you gathered up the courage to go over and congratulate him but as you moved through the crowd that is when you noticed Andrea sitting next to this woman, their heads practically touching as they whispered to each other. The joyful smile that was on your lips slowly faded and turned into a scowl as you felt all the joy you felt just moments ago flow out of you and sadness return.

- He had a smile on his lips but almost as if sensing something his eyes suddenly flicker to yours. His eyes widen and his smile fades as he notices the scowl you had on your face as you look at him. As soon as you noticed Andrea looking at you, you swiftly turned around and left the hall, grabbing your coat on your way out.

- You start walking when you hear his sweet voice calling out your name, following you out of the hall. 'Do you need my help Andrea' you say gravely, stopping to allow him to catch up to you but refusing to look him in the eyes, 'why you sad y/n' he asks but you just shake your head, 'I'm not sad, now if that is all I will be on my way' you say and start to walk away but Andrea grabs ahold of your arm to stop you from moving, 'No! You're lying' he says, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you 'why you lying'

- You quickly snap around, grabbing ahold of the back of Andrea's neck, breathing heavily you look into his shocked eyes. 'Men don't grab ahold of each other like that Andrea, men don't give each other flowers, men don't chase after each other. The church for bays us to do that Andrea. Don't you understand what you are doing to me? I shouldn't be feeling this way about you'

- You watch as Andrea stays speechless but then with one eye flicker he seals your fate. In that one moment his eyes flicker down to your lips then back to your eyes and the next thing both of you knew was that your lips were pressed against his, his back was pushed against a wall as one arm holding onto the back of his neck while the other gripped his waist while his hands grasp onto your coat, pulling you against him as you groan into his mouth. As your lips move against him, his eyes flutter closed as his breath hitches. You two stay like that melting into the kiss till you hear the sound of the town folk starting to emerge from the hall

- Quickly you pull away, as you both try to straighten your clothes, blushes staining your cheeks. 'I have to go' Andrea mumbles and quickly walks off to meet up with his ride back home, leaving you pressed again the wall on your own

(So I am going to leave this here. I really am stretching the definition of headcanon at this point tbh, this is more like a less detailed one-shot but ah well. As I didn't actually get to the dating part just the lead up I'll likely write the actual dating headcanons soon)

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Are You Single - 2

Tag List: @becomeunsolved @ambiguous-g @favorite-slytherin-weirdo @a-weirdperson @artist-bby

The reader makes their way through Castle Dimitrescu, encountering the Lady and her daughters. Heisenberg might just have to re-evaluate his opinion of you when you're the unexpected victor of the battles with them.

You had ran through the glorified saw trap, avoiding Lycans and giants alike as you listened to Heisenberg’s taunting. Evidently he was an asshole, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the butterflies in your stomach going mad at the way he spoke to you. Fear had briefly crawled up your spine when he had dropped the spinning log of spikes, blocking your exit and apparently sealing your fate. Thankfully there had been a crevice in the wall, big enough to drop your backpack down by your side and protect yourself. The only thing that took damage was the handcuffs. It had briefly occurred to you that it seemed a very convenient hiding space in an otherwise foolproof killing room.

You ended up back at the gate that you had been captured at, looking over your shoulder this time as you pulled the lever up. Not that you could do anything if Heisenberg or his overgrown sister decided to double check. It seemed unlikely that either of them would treat you to a meal, but you could hope. If you were being honest with yourself though, Heisenberg hardly screamed refined dining.

No, he seemed more like a man who would order a McDonalds or a Burgerking after he’d been working tirelessly all day on a machine in a tank top. All sweaty. . . you smacked yourself in the face, snapping yourself out of your fantasy. You needed to get a grip. Preferably around his throat or his-

You slapped yourself again.

You left through the gate, coming out to an unpleasant looking vineyard. Of course, Dimitrescu was far too high and mighty to get her hands dirty doing manual labour, and any staff that she may of had to maintain the vineyard were probably dead. You shuddered at the thought of so many deaths. You didn’t know any of those people, didn’t know anyone in this godforsaken village that had been put in the middle of nowhere except for the few that had just survived long enough to be brutally killed in front of you. No one would remember any of the dead. It was as if they never existed. And if you died here - which you likely would - you would likely not be remembered. Not with fondness anyway.

You were brought out of your dark thoughts by the sound of a man groaning and wood creaking. You looked up, and to your surprise found an old-fashioned wagon settled in front of the entrance to Castle Dimitrescu. The doors swung open, and someone all but rolled out. The man was massive, both in height and weight.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my friend,” he said with the attitude of someone who was excited to get down to business.

You stopped a couple of metres away, taking it all in. How was this man even alive? Then again, Dimitrescu was nine feet tall and she seemed like she was functioning better than most people. Especially given that the tallest man in history was nearly nine foot and died super young. You could come to terms with this mans existence in no time.

“Who are you? How do you know me?” You let the uncertainty show in your voice.

“Me? I am but a humble merchant,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “And you’ve been the talk of the town recently! An unknown human outsider making their way through hordes of creatures with nothing but an axe and some second hand guns? Remarkable.”

You hated yourself for the light blush that crept up your neck at the compliment. You never blushed.

“What can I call you?”

“Ah, forgive my manners. You can call me the Duke. Your name please?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I already know it, but some people prefer to tell others their name rather than have the introduction stolen from them.”

You chuckled, deciding to bridge the few metres of distance. “(Y/n).”

“Pleasure. Now, would you like to purchase anything for the journey ahead? Medicine? Ammunition?”

“Can you tell me what’s happened here?”

“Ah, information. All I can tell you now is that Mother Miranda has seemingly abandoned the village she has spent a century ruling. Slaughtered the villagers.” He took a long drag of a cigar he had lit before releasing the smoke into the air. “It seems she’s done it for her daughter.”

“Her daughter? Dimitrescu? Or the woman in the veil?”

“Ah, Lady Donna. But no, neither of those are her real daughters. It’s doubtful she even considers them such. The same for her sons.”

Your thoughts drifted back to Heisenberg. Did he hate her for that? For not considering him her child? Questions for later.

“Then who?”

The Duke regarded you for a second. “Sell me those crystal skulls you’ve collected, make a purchase and find me in the castle, and perhaps I’ll know more.”

You blinked in surprise, briefly wondering how he knew that you had been collecting the crystallised remains of those Lycans. Truthfully you just thought they were pretty.

After selling the remains and buying yourself some extra ammo, as well as some of the strange medicine the Duke advertised that was supposed to encourage cell division, you nodded to him in thanks and turned to face the castle.

“Although I must say,” The Duke called out before you could make much progress, “why do you wish to go into that castle? You are a stranger. There is no stake in this for you.”

You took a deep breath. Why were you doing this? That beast under your skin wanted to answer. To find and tear them apart. For revenge for all the dead. To satisfy my own need for blood and pain.

Instead you said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

You walked towards the doors.

***

The inside of the castle was. . . beautiful. Definitely a place a lady would live. Perhaps a place you would live in another life. It seemed as though everything was trimmed with gold, including the beautiful waist high vases decorated with beautiful women. The furniture was of the highest quality, the rugs and carpets plush enough to sleep comfortably on. They looked expensive enough to cost more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. You wiped your muddy boot on the rug you were standing on, leaving a dark smear.

The thing that drew your attention most of all was the portrait that dominated the opposite wall. Three women, admittedly indistinguishable from one another, sat in big dresses. The plaque identified them as the three daughters. Three daughters that loved entertaining foreigners.

A bad feeling overcame you, and you decided to tuck your handgun into your boot, regardless of the discomfort. You covered it with your jeans.

You pressed on until you came to a main chamber that had another set of double doors decorating the walls. A scream rang out, clear as day and stopping you in your tracks. The scream of a woman in terrible pain. Part of you thought that maybe you should try to find her, but something in you knew that it had been a death scream. The agonised scream of someone who wanted to live and was denied.

You swallowed, instead making your way to the double doors, wondering where they lead.

“Well, who’s this then?” an upbeat female voice asked.

You turned to look, and only found three swarms of flies buzzing closer. And right before your eyes, they materialised into three beautiful young women. The daughters. The first thought in your head was how the painting didn’t do any of them justice.

You didn’t even have time to take your gun out of your backpack before the woman on the left - a tall blonde with blood on her mouth - grabbed you by the throat and lifted you clean off the floor, slamming you against the door. She pressed her face closer to your shoulder and took a deep sniff. You shuddered against the feeling of her nose tickling your neck.

“Fresh blood,” she said, voice dripping with a desire that put you on edge.

“Mother says you have to share, sister,” said the redhead with a childish delight, the brunette nodding in agreement with a sadistic grin on her face.

That scream echoed through your head again. The blonde stared into your face, looking for the traces of fear that likely coated their usual victims. She was going to come up empty. You cleared your throat, looking down into beautiful but evil eyes that had probably been the last thing that so many had seen, and spit right in her face.

The grin on her face froze as the glob made contact with her cheek, and then dropped off altogether when her sisters roared in laughter, one of them doubling at the waist and clutching her stomach.

She threw you to the floor, tossing your backpack aside and growling at her sisters to silence them. You leaped towards it with the intention of pulling your shotgun out, deciding to keep the handgun a secret. But she grabbed a fistful of your hair, most of her materialising back into that swarm as she did so. She dragged you through the halls, her sisters flanking you. You clawed at her hand, but to no avail.

Another swarm got too close, a face materialising. The brunette. She ripped one of your arms off of where it was clawing at the hand that felt as if it was going to rip your scalp off. She held it up to her mouth and grinned. You didn’t even have the chance to scream as she sank her teeth into the side of your forearm, digging in deep. Then she pulled back, laughing. She hadn’t done it to feed, only to hurt you. The other sister came forward, her face materialising as well to lick up the blood that was leaking down your arm. She left little bites of her own up your arm. But these were more like love bites.

Suddenly they stopped, and the oldest released the grip on your hair, using her momentum to throw you into a wall.

“Mother,” she started, “I bring you fresh prey.”

Oh no.

You turned, out of breath from the hurt your body had suffered.

“You are so kind to me, daughters.” She took a deep drink of wine and rose from her chair. “Now, let's take a look at them.”

You didn’t get up from the floor, not having the energy or the stupidity to make a scene right now. Not as she fully turned and looked down at you.

“Well, well. A nobody with no name worth knowing or manners to speak of makes their way to my castle do they? Well, you escaped my little brother's idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

She beckoned to the blonde and the redhead. They each grabbed an arm, forcefully hoisting you to your feet. You squirmed a little, but their grip was like iron as they held up the arm with the bleeding bite mark. Lady Dimitrescu raised a brow and looked back at the remaining daughter.

“Cassandra? What did I say about waiting?”

Cassandra looked down at her feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “Apologies Mother.”

Dimitrescu gripped you by the wrist and lifted you off the ground. You gritted your teeth. She closed her mouth over the wound and sucked. If you were being honest with yourself most of your blood at this point had either transferred to your face or. . .

It wasn’t important. But apparently you needed therapy.

She dropped you suddenly, and you couldn’t help the shout that escaped your lips when your knees made impact with the floor.

“Just as I thought, nothing special.”

“May we devour their flesh now Mother-”

“But I am the one who captured them-”

“Now, now girls. First I must inform Mother Miranda of Heisenberg’s failure. But soon there will be enough for everyone.” She turned to the blonde daughter. “Bela, take them to the dungeons and shove them in a cell.”

Bela grinned at you, seizing your hair again as she dragged you along, leaving the laughter of her mother and her sisters behind.

***

Heisenberg was fuming. Not that you had escaped his trap. To be perfectly honest there were several design flaws that he wasn’t going to admit to and he really couldn’t have cared less if you had exploited them to get away. If you were running through the village, then something was bound to get you eventually. That was what he had figured anyway.

No, Heisenberg was angry because that overgrown, egocentric, glorified vampire bitch had ratted him out to Mother Miranda. He could just imagine the smug way she had said it over the phone. That grin she would have. He wished he could have buried his hammer into her face.

Miranda had expressed her disappointment in him, not that he gave a shit. But it would likely mean that she would watch him for a while, at least while she had time to spare. Preparing that stupid ceremony would take her a few days at the very least. And in that time she could do anything.

He slammed his fist down on the table. With you in Castle Dimitrescu he couldn’t even entertain himself watching you scramble around the village. Couldn’t taunt you. And he didn’t want to risk working on his army, just on the off chance that Miranda caught wind.

He hadn’t even seen you before that confrontation in front of the castle gate, and he just assumed it was blind luck you’d made it that far.

He’d probably never know how you got on in the Castle, because there was no way you were leaving that place alive.

He looked at the yellow jar on his desk, tempted to just throw it and it’s contents into a pit of molten metal. It would be kinder to the kid than whatever Miranda had planned.

***

You had been shoved in the most stereotypical dungeon in the world. It was something straight out of some Frankenstein-ish novel. Bela had left, promising that she would come back soon to retrieve you for dinner. You had given her your most hate filled look, your eyes promising nothing but violence.

That must have been ten minutes ago, and you were furiously searching the cell. You had found a gap in the wall, and in it a crumpled sheet of paper. You straightened it out, beginning to read.

To whomever is trying to escape this place,

I hope this note will be of some assistance. You don’t know me but you will have to trust me if you want to survive.

First, you need to get out of this cell. Look around for the way, get on your hands and knees if you must.

Then, search for the thing you’ll need to

escape. It will be hidden where they’ll

least suspect, soaked in blood.

The rest of the note was illegible, at some point being soaked with dry blood. You hoped that whoever had written it had gotten out.

You took the notes' advice, getting on your hands and knees. There! Under the wooden board attached to the wall there was a hole that you could crawl through. You got on your belly and went through, ending up in the next cell. You tried the door, and to your relief it opened.

You took your gun out of your boot, preparing to go into the dungeon deeper for your way out.

***

Monsters had patrolled the dungeon. Horrible emaciated monsters that held swords. The first one you had encountered held a sword, and you shot it with glee, picking the sword up. A perfect chance to conserve ammo. It was in good condition too. You sliced and hacked your way through, making it to the second part of the dungeon. You could see the stairwell at the end. Your heart soared. At least until you had to wave a fly out of your face.

“I can’t believe Cassandra caused all this mess.”

Bela. Part of you wanted to turn around and fight her, but you were sadistic not stupid. Bullets against a swarm would be pointless. Instead you ran for the stairs, shooting up them until you came to an entrance that was boarded up. Because of course it was. You attempted to hack at the boards with the sword, but it was already too late.

“Where are you going little one?”

“Oh for fucks-”

You turned to be confronted by Bela, her white teeth stark against the drying blood coating the lower half of her face. She picked you up by the neck again, throwing you through the wooden boards. You lost the sword to the far wall, instead bringing out your handgun as she mounted you, desperately trying to inflict some damage on her even when you knew the bullets would be useless. She just laughed at you.

“Bullets cannot harm-”

CRACK.

You both looked off to the side, just in time to see a window shatter and let in all the cold air. She jumped off and you skittered back, getting to your feet. She was. . . solidifying, only a few lone flies breaking away from her before the cold killed them.

And she was angry.

“You stupid-”

You shot her.

She reeled back in pain, screeching. You smiled, and shot her again.

She charged at you, raising her sickle over her head to slice at you. You ducked away from her and grabbed your sword, swinging it to block her next swing. You kicked her in the stomach, putting some distance between the two of you. Then you shot her again. And again. You could tell that she was almost done. One more bullet or swing of the sword and she’d probably shatter.

You put your gun down on a table, the sword following it.

She was doubled over in agony for the moment, but she still managed to look at you with eyes filled with hatred. The perfect mirror of the look you had given her when she had tossed you in a cell. You laughed at her again, the sound ringing right through the room. You didn’t care if it could even be heard throughout the castle. The daughters had a weakness, and if they wanted to fuck around and find out how you could exploit it then that was their problem.

“It’s funny how things just switch around isn’t it?” You asked her between manic bursts of laughter.

You charged at her suddenly, tackling her to the ground. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she had been. She clawed desperately at your thighs, screaming again as the force she was using caused them to begin to crumble. It was childish, but you got a grip on her hair and pulled as hard as you could, laughing at the screams she made as cracks spiderwebbed down from her hairline down to her eyes. Then you reeled your fist back, gave her one final smirk, and punched her in the face. Her head practically exploded into pieces. You felt yourself drop to the floor as most of her crumbled. Except for one thing. The upper half of her torso had crystallized into something beautiful. You picked it up, wondering if the Duke would buy it.

***

As it turned out, the Duke had his own special room in the castle, and he did buy the torso and the sword. You also managed to retrieve your backpack. It turned out that that medicine was bordering on magical, as the only thing left of the horrible bite Cassandra had left was a scar. Even Daniela’s hickeys were gone.

To your chagrin, if you wanted to open those double doors in the hall you were going to need four masks. The Duke provided the first one, The Mask of Sorrow. He had winked at you, telling you that this would avoid another encounter with the Lady. But when you had asked for his explanation about the events in the village, he simply told you he didn’t have it all yet, but he would at your next encounter. You thought that was bullshit. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And now here you were, reaching for the animal's skull off the wall, hoping that maybe it would have the solution to opening that grate without having to replace the mask.

“I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first.”

Fuck. You froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was by the door. You looked around the room, desperate to find a solution. You had only narrowly escaped her getting into the room. Trying to get past her while stuck in here would be impossible. Then you felt it. A draft. There was a gap in the wall being concealed by a bookshelf. You moved it, looking around for Cassandra. She was still by the door, taking her sweet time getting to you. You examined the gap. There was no way this was going to be enough to petrify Cassandra. Then you remembered the weight in your pocket. You had picked it up in the dungeon. A pipe bomb.

You felt the air shift, and had just enough time to duck as Cassandra swung at you. Taking cover on the other side of the room, you threw the bomb and covered your ears. Cassandra screamed at the bite of the cold air, somehow being louder than the initial boom the bomb had made.

“You’ve ruined the hunt!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said happily. “I’m having tons of fun.”

You pointed the shotgun at her as she charged, unloading it into her face. She stumbled back. And you did it again, not giving her time to recover. The shotgun was much more powerful than the pistol had been taking care of Bela, so it wasn’t long before Cassandra was at the same stage Bela had been before you had killed her.

“I take it back. That was kind of disappointing. I thought you’d have more in ya.”

And you don’t know if she just realised she was dying, or if she just wanted to kill you so bad that she threw common sense out of the window, but she charged at you with her weapon raised. You didn’t even move out of the way, just caught he raised wrist and squeezed. It crumbled beneath your hands. She tried to hit you with her other wrist only for you to do the same thing.

“Mother!” She cried out with all the emotion of a scared little girl. “Mother!”

You grabbed her by the front of her dress, letting her see into your eyes. Letting her see the toothy grin you were giving her that was more like a snarl. The irony of the situation struck you. Whereas it would have been her eyes brimming with cruelty and madness before, now it was yours. But you had never been afraid. Not for one second. But she was. And it made you grin even wider.

She called out for her mother again as you dragged her to the wall. You kissed her on the nose, giving her a smile that someone might give a lover, and used all your innate anger and cruelty to shove the bitch against the wall.

She shattered, leaving behind only that crystallised torso.

***

His sister had said she would call Miranda when the outsider had been killed. Well, her words were dealt with properly. Emphasis on the properly apparently. Miranda was supposed to let the rest of them know when the outsider had decided to stop being a nuisance and finally bit the dust.

But no call came. From either of them. Hell, Heisenberg hadn’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone. So. . . was the outsider still alive?

He had to admit, he didn’t expect that.

Maybe he needed to change up his expectations.

***

“So you finally came to see me?”

The final daughter. Daniela. You would have preferred not to deal with her right now, given that her mother had just surprised you and evading her through her music hall had been no small task. She had been angry and seething with bloodlust. You supposed she had learned about the deaths of her older daughters. The fact that she had sent Daniela up against you after you had proved that they were practically useless against you wasn’t scoring Dimitrescu any good mother points.

You shot at the window above. But it refused to break, and the swarms had blocked the doors. You looked around, noting that on the other side, on one of the pillars was a handle.

“Everyone always falls for me.”

You ran around her, gripping the handle and swinging it down with all your might. She screamed in agony, running to get out of the direct frozen wind. To your dismay the handle slowly turned up. Who designed this?

She was running through the bookshelves, trying to hide from you. So deranged, but slightly smarter than her sisters it seemed.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I- Why are you doing this?!” you retorted.

You pumped the handle down again before chasing her, shooting her in the back. She darted around a bookcase, circling around you and trying to get the jump on you. But you were ready, giving her another one. You were beginning to get bored of these sisters.

“You three don’t really put up much of a fight do you?”

“I thought you loved me,” she snarled.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything I just said?”

You shot her again. Then once more for good measure. You got up close and used the butt of your shotgun wo hit her in the stomach, forcing her back.

“I don’t wanna die,” she cried out, almost begging you not to go any further with the tone she was using.

“Well you know, neither did anyone in this village or this castle but shit happens I guess.”

You threw the gun down and got a grip on her throat, dragging her to the handle where you pumped it down again. Her attempts to get away from you and out of the cold were desperate, but you maintained that grip on her neck. Slowly, your grip tightened, and you thought you could see the beginning of tears in her eyes as cracks started to multiply on her throat. You did it slowly, savouring the way her throat gave under your hand. The window was nearly shut now. You blew her a kiss, then you balled your fist, crushing her throat completely.

The window shut.

***

“The entire bloodline of House Dimitrescu is done in by the likes of you?”

You smiled at her, even as she stalked you with her claws out. She had caught you while you were figuring out which mask went where. Luckily, being so big meant she was slow.

“Damn right it is.”

“Have much blood and sweat do you think it took to raise those daughter?” She swiped. “You have incurred an impossible debt!”

The genuine sadness and pain in her voice was something that might have swayed someone else, but not you. Not after the Duke had explained what those monsters in the dungeon had really been. Not when you knew the secret ingredient of that wine. Not when that scream rattled around inside your skull.

“What? You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness while you slice me apart? How many daughters have you murdered and turned to slaves?” You slotted the third mask in before darting just out of her reach. “You didn’t consider how many fathers and husbands you bled dry in your dungeons. Your daughters deserved to die! You deserve to die! None of you get a free pass just because I’d have sex with you!”

She made a noise of disgust and sliced downwards, narrowly missing you. You darted to the last statue, putting the mask in. The door opened and you bolted.

***

You pushed open the coffin, finding an old corpse clutching a beautiful knife. You picked it up, testing the weight. That is, before you were spun around and lifted by the neck again. Evidently this family had a choking kink.

“You ruined everything!” She screamed.

She got ready to plunge her claws deep into your stomach, but you were faster, instead driving the knife into her chest. She screamed, throwing you through the window behind you. You accidentally let go of the knife, and it tumbled off the side of the building.

You looked back at Dimitrescu. She was in pain, and obviously weakening. But large, fleshy wings sprouted out from her back, a tail soon following.

And then she was crashing through the wall, nothing but a female torso and head on the back of what looked like a dragon straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Flesh! Bones! I will devour all of you!”

“Bring it on, bitch!”

***

“Curse you.”

And those were her last words. It hadn’t been easy, but you had done it. And you smiled at her as you did so. Given that same demented smile you’d given her daughters. You still wore it.

You looked around, still half mad from the bloodlust. The only thing of note was a yellow flask, so you snatched it up, grinning even wider as the wall opened into the outside.

***

Dimitrescu was dead. Heisenberg grinned. Well, he certainly didn’t expect to watch you walk out of the castle through the camera he’d placed in the area. He hadn’t even expected you to have lasted five minutes, but evidently you were made of sterner stuff. He was impressed.

You were covered in the dust of her dead daughters, as well as Dimitrescu's own blood. It made your damaged clothes cling to your form, and as you got closer he could see the grin you were wearing, could see that deranged look in your eye. And then you looked up at him. Not just at his camera, but at him. As if you knew he was watching. Your grin turned into something else, and you brought your palm to your mouth, kissed it, and then blew the kiss at him.

He didn’t expect that to get his blood pumping. Didn’t expect watching you walk away coated in blood get it pumping even harder. What was this feeling? It wasn’t fear. It was almost like adrenaline. Almost like-

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

He needed to talk to you. He would talk to you.

Hopefully he could lick the blood off of you after.

[sepublic]

Kraid!

KKKKKRRRRAAAAAIIIIIIDDDDD

I was trying to avoid as much of Metroid Dread as possible to be surprised... But then I learned KRAID is back, in glorious HD as part of a mainline game and...

Oh, he’s beautiful!

Seriously, I’ve always wanted to see more of Kraid! Dude was one of the OG Space Pirates alongside Mother Brain and Ridley, who are present throughout the series; And as someone who is apparently Ridley’s Brother-in-Arms, I’m just really curious on what he could be like?

I doubt we’ll get much if anything in terms of personality, but that’s how Metroid games work anyway! Hopefully we get more lore on Kraid, how is he still alive? Does he have regenerative abilities, is he just really incredibly durable? An X-parasite imitation? Fake Kraid has grown up and this is Sclayd? Did the Chozo clone him, maybe even somehow resurrect him from a dead body, or even the afterlife considering their borderline mystical abilities???

Either way, that’s clever of the designers to have Kraid be restrained, as a meta explanation as to why he doesn’t just charge forward- Thus allowing the developers to start off with a traditional take on the Kraid fight... But since he manages to break an arm free in the trailer, the fight might progress and get more deadly, as Kraid becomes more free.

His neck brace will probably be the last to go, to show a sort of natural transition from the traditional style of Kraid fights, to a more modernized take and I am all FOR it! Everyone’s wondering if Ridley will return, but Kraid alone would MORE than make up for his absence, especially since Ridley is already so prevalent while Kraid has only gotten bread crumbs and the Brinstar Depths stage in recent years!

This is like a dream come true... And obviously Kraid is set up to fight Samus, but it’d be kind of neat to see an arc where him and Samus recognize a mutual enemy in the Chozo, and work with each other over it? Probably not, but I feel this would be more plausible than Samus and Ridley working together; A fun thought exercise I’d always entertained, but there really isn’t that personal vitriol between Samus and Kraid.

...I mean, there COULD be if Kraid takes Ridley’s death personally, but who knows, he might hold off on revenge just long enough for a practical escape! Regardless, I utterly adore just how gnarly and twisted this guy looks, it reminds me of Ridley’s Smash Ultimate renders that really modernize his look, breathe a new and alien life to it while still being the same! And the added, slimy body horror, borderline insectoid, like Smash Ridley!

But yes, I appreciate Metroid Dread taking the opportunity to be new, instead of trying to cater to the mainstream audience as an official return to pull them back, especially since we already had Samus Returns do that, especially with Proteus Ridley being thrown in! And with how Proteus was by far the best Ridley fight in the series, I can’t WAIT to see how Mercury Steam gives a new action to a Kraid boss battle!

And it looks like there might be a passageway behind Kraid that he’s guarding... Kind of like his previous appearances, I love Kraid being a giant guard dog- His girth and weight alone makes him an impenetrable wall! Plus he gives immovable object vibes, VS Ridley as an Unstoppable Force.

Ridley moves fast and aggressively leads the charge, while Kraid is less mobile, can’t even fit through most passageways; But holds down the fort and line of defense, tanking damage and shrugging it off compared to someone who heals from it!

Seriously, this is great seeing this under appreciated Space Pirate represented! I’ve always been salty about Meta Kraid being left out of Metroid Prime... And Kraid’s got a distinct identity of his own as one of the biggest bosses in the entire series by a long shot!

His big, colossal, green and chunky frame, that brutishness to Kraid, the size and brawn- It’s a nice contrast and foil to Ridley’ who is memetically huge in general, but from a relative standpoint averagely-sized as a boss, and MUCH scrawnier than the Awakened Behemoth; But he makes up for it wit speed and agility, flight, etc.!

Plus the concept of taking on a full-on Kaiju of the series, Metroid’s Godzilla... I always felt like there was a wasted potential to Kraid and how he stood out as a counterpart to Ridley’ more of the lumbering mountain to scale compared to the acrobatic Cunning God of Death! His Kaiju size, the way the ground could easily tremble from each footstep like Jurassic Park...

If Ridley is a Xenomorph, make Kraid into Godzilla and Rexy and every giant monster whose sheer scale inspires a horror based in awe, one that is huge and grandiose and demands attention and seizes all of it, gloriously basking in full view, in contrast to the more stealthy and subtle Ridley!

They’re both reptilian Space Pirates who debuted with the franchise, serve Mother Brain alongside one another as the two guardians to Tourian. And just like Ridley taking one of the recurring boss themes from Super Metroid and adopting it as HIS theme, Kraid seems to have done the same by Zero Mission!

Plus, Brinstar Depths, AKA Kraid’s Lair, is SUCH a metal soundtrack! It doesn’t necessarily apply to Kraid himself, but I feel like there’s an enigmatic personality hinted with the eerie, melodic tune of this theme... So as someone who’s tried to write him, mostly in my head;

What kind of person is Kraid? What archetypes and roles would he fit? As a more casual type of arch-nemesis, compared to the personal intensity of Ridley? A dumb brute, or smart in his own way? What personality and vibes would make Kraid’s Lair fit as a theme for him?

At the very least, I wonder if we’ll get Space Pirate lore, maybe even origins as to Kraid and Ridley’s species? They’re both huge dragons who took over Zebes... Could there be a connection between Ridley’s species and the Chozo? Will we get a bit of sympathy for Kraid, seeing him captured like an animal by the Chozo, perhaps to test experiments upon and clone?

Will Dread encapsulate the realization of just how much of a bigger scope villain the True Chozo are, experimenting on Kraid the way the Galactic Federation did with Ridley’s clone, another parallel between them? Will we explore the dark past of the Chozo, and a potential tragic look into Kraid’s species- So Samus has a better understanding of how her people have been terrible in many ways, even if that doesn’t at all justify Kraid the person’s actions?

Just... Imagine a storyline where Samus realizes that Kraid was made by the Chozo, or his species was, or they were genetically augmented or massacred, or something like that. Just a twisted moment of realization that explains but doesn’t justify. Which could lead to Samus and Kraid teaming up for a prison breakout at a pivotal moment, Kraid’s girth would make him a helpful ally.

Perhaps Samus could weaponize Kraid in the background to take the brunt of the True Chozo’s attacks, while she takes on the leader? Could he help with environmental terrain, blind to the background as a colossal feature of the environment, a kaiju briefly on your side?

Could we get a Kraid fight where he attacks from the background, instead of to the right? Will he ultimately die helping Samus- More for his own gain and revenge, but still? Maybe even leading to a reluctant salute from Samus as she recognizes them both as people captured, as experimented upon by the Chozo? Apologies for all of the fanon conjecture, my mind is racing...!

I think there’s SO much potential with Kraid and seeing him full, unadulterated HD glory... It’s glorious. It’s magnificent! This is a dream come true, and I hope Kraid finally starts to get the recognition he deserves! Even if he’s just A boss fight, I’m already sated and content here- And I can only imagine the new wave of fan content that will spawn for Kraid, as he’s recognized a defining moment of Dread!

Plus, I’d love to see people characterize and give lore to Kraid... All in all I am LIVING and in triumph here!!! I know I keep using this meme but

Literally this alone, just these shots... Are ALL I really want and need, in the end! Bless you Mercury Steam for this food, for breathing new life into this franchise while renovating what really needs it! I don’t even care if Kraid’s return is never really explained, I’m incredibly happy here!

This new design... It just FITS and works as a new, evergreen design for Kraid honestly! Compared to Ridley who is a lot more varied and arguably inconsistent, even with his Smash render... THIS is the new and definitive Kraid for me, now! I am having the time of my LIFE here!

Ridley the Cunning God has cheated death... is Kraid the Behemoth has reawakened!

(With the idea of Prime Kraid being reused for Metroid Prime 4... I’m wondering if we’ll begin to see an all new Kraid renaissance? 👀 More frequent content as Nintendo starts giving him and more appearances and attention, including in other media and advertising, alongside Ridley???)

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 11]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

[H/C - Hair color]

~

“You didn’t have to pick me up Hunter. I could’ve found a transport over to Coruscant one way or another”

“Not worthy of an escort?”

“You do escorts now? The war is over and this is what you do with your freedom so far?” Reylen jokes sitting beside Hunter in the Havoc as she knew he could sense her worries if she had any, but she can feel his with the tension in the room. “Hunter, it’s best to talk about it and not keep it inside”

“The Bad Batch never follows orders. We do our own way of solving the problem. But when Y/N joined us, we always put ourselves in harms way. She wasn’t too badly affected until we got nosey. Then Kenobi ripping away that security she had—“

“Made you want to use every fiber of your being to protect her, even if her own twisted morals told you otherwise” Reylen finishes watching Hunter tense up again grabbing the back of his neck. “Y’know. Sometimes they wake up in the bacta tanks. Wakes up before the thing decides they are”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“She’ll come back when she comes back”

“I hope you’re right”

——

Y/N, please. I can’t. I really can’t lose you.

You’ll make it. Please. Make it.

Cyar’ika...

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum

...

I love you

——

The loud thud rang through Hunter’s ears the second he stepped off the marauder. He didn’t hesitate to leave to Reylen and instantly start running toward the medbay with the rest of the batch slowly joining him.

They all froze finding Y/N rip the mask off of her face before slowly standing to her feet.

“Well. Isn’t this a nice view” Crosshair smirks to her naked complexion as she narrows her gaze.

“Are you going to keep staring or get me fucking clothes?” Y/N snaps catching them all off guard as Wrecker pushes them all out of the room accidentally closing himself in.

Accidentally, my ass

“Wrecker, I love you. But please GO!” Y/N yells at the big guy as he realizes his situation before swapping spots with Reylen when she finally caught up with the group.

“They’ve never seen you naked and not wounded?” Reylen laughs dropping her backpack and pulling out a few of her own clothes handing them to Y/N.

“I’m surprised a little bit that they reacted like such. Well except Crosshair. He’s always snarky but that’s his character for you” Y/N states clasping the overalls and scanning the room to find her own shoes by the tank she broke. “I can’t believe this thing actually worked and didn’t drain every fiber of my being”

“I was there for that sole purpose. In case that did happen.” Reylen smiles happy to see that she is alright for right now, but apart of her still wanted to check a few things and Y/N sensed that.

“Can I hug my boys before you do tests, Rey?”

Reylen laughs a bit to herself smiling more than before. “You gotta stop asking for permission and just act” she states as Y/N walked passed her opening the door finding the five staring directly at her.

Y/N didn’t care in that moment. She started balling, not giving a damn if she looked weak or whatever. She ran into Hunter’s embrace being squeezed by the sergeant as he couldn’t help it either. None of them could.

“Thank maker” He sighs squeezing Y/N as she cried into his chest holding him.

Crosshair couldn’t help it as he latched onto the two hugging them both. Echo following in suit with Tech after, and Wrecker consuming them all in his embrace.

“Thank maker you’re alright” Tech sighs with relief feeling the tears roll off his cheeks. “Thank maker...”

Thank maker...

Thank maker she’s alive, and this is over

Fuck it’s all over

A year after the war...not much has happened with where the next steps should go. But it brought some peace and freedom to those who never thought they’d even receive a normal direction in their life.

“Master?” a padawan walks alongside Obi Wan as he gave them a smile indicating his attention. “You talk greatly about this...Y/L/N? But why haven’t any of the others met her? Didn’t she bring an end to the war?”

“Yes, and she will be back. She handles a lot more of our loose ends. Don’t know why she’d want to after what the council has granted her, the battalions, and future generations”

“She’s just, continuing to protect the Galaxy. That’s how it should be isn’t it?”

“Yes”

For the most part

“You really need to get better at sticking your landing”

“Tech, my love, I will go back to the ship and kick your ass! You try scaling buildings without falling into the alleys or losing the target” Y/N snaps over her communicator as she lunges over a large gap in Patora’s downtown district trying to keep up with the target on the speeder as Hunter chases them with his own.

Tech continues to work on the security systems of the district they are in, as Echo stepped in testing out a new function of his robotic hand.

“There—“ Echo alerts Tech as he flips the switch.

“Lights out”

The city lights turned off, leaving only candle lit venders as the only light source along with the traffic. But this caused the target to stop their speeder on the ground and continue on foot. They reached the sewer line and once they entered they were greeted by Wrecker in front of them and Crosshair behind.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I uh—-“

“That’s not an answer!” Wrecker yells knocking the target out as Crosshair face palms on the spot.

“You do realize most times you do that, it lands them in critical condition”

“Well now it won’t take forever to get the binders on them!”

“I hate your logic big guy” Hunter interrupts the two, overhearing them in the comms before driving his speeder to the building Y/N stopped at seeing how tired she got. She muted her comm as he did the same stepping off of his speeder to hold her for a moment. “You need to remember, it’s a team of six”

“God I know, we’re all after the same thing.” Y/N takes a deep breath, sighing after. “That took a lot out of me apparently”

“Hm. You’ve got some speed on yea. So I wasn’t worried for a second” He reassures running his hand through her soft [H/C] short hair humming to himself. “I still miss your long hair”

“Hey I like it short” Y/N smiles easing into his hand as Hunter brought her close for a second pressing his lips against hers. She held onto his chest plate continuing the kiss before parting seeing her sergeant smile himself. “Let’s hurry up and take the target back to Coruscant. Then take care of a few things before going home”

“Maker, I’ll never get used to hearing that cyar’ika”

“Mmm, good” Y/N smiles following Hunter back to his speeder as he took her hand helping her on before heading back to the ship compound.

“We got him!” Wrecker alerts the two when they rejoined the rest of the batch.

“Yes. By knocking him unconscious” Tech states getting a sigh from Hunter and an annoyed look from Y/N. “He doesn’t have the carbonation device on him. Even though it would be sufficient to make a portable device to avoid subtle casualties”

“Just. Get him in the carbonite so we could avoid further damage” Y/N informs Wrecker as he goes to put the target in the rack of their upgraded Havoc Marauder. “Shall we head out or should I stock up on anything while we are here? This is a great vendor district”

“We’re going home after heading back to Coruscant. On the way to Coruscant it’s a few clicks I believe we’ll manage but on the way home, may as well”

“Wait to get it for free or enjoy a little simplicity”

“Simplicity. I’ll go with you” Tech informs Y/N as she smiles watching him going to get out of his armor.

“You all can get out of your armor. Relax a bit” Y/N continues to smile as Echo and Hunter went ahead to do so while Crosshair stayed behind stepping closer to her. “Cross”

“Cyar’ika” Crosshair gently took her face into his hands scanning every detail of her face before gently kissing her then retracting to head on board the second Tech stepped out.

Y/N smiles enjoying his softness from time to time.

Couldn’t believe this is happening

A peaceful moment

Without anything to interfere

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @fennign @meli-that-girl @spp2011

[gregnas-the-grouch]

Truth Without Power

All was calm in the forest. The singing of birds, the chipping of insects, the gentle sway of trees in the wind. It all blended in the background, But for one Cofagrigus, it only served to aid her meditation. The warrior’s mind still, focused. Nothing could break her concentration at this point. 

“So eager to earn my ire? I know your mental faculties are lacking, yet even I must admit I’m impressed at the depths you’re willing to pursue in the name of enraging me.” Baozhai’s demeanor had hit a new low. For all her bluster, even Yemir could feel it radiating off the Cofagrigus in sickening waves. It gave the small Gallade pause, if only for a moment as Bao turned to face her charge. “It seems I have no option left. Since I can find no opponent capable of rousing you to your former size. I will simply have to get my hands dirty”, the ghost murmured. Standing up to her full height, Baozhai looked down at Yemir. As if she were a mischievous child that needed scolding. “Be proud. It’s not often people get to face me in combat. One of the better highlights compared to the list of individuals you’ve battled, I would say”, a slight smile formed on her face as Yemir stared at Baozhai.

The reduced giant remained quiet for a few moments before she suddenly bursted into a fit of laughter. Clutching her chest tightly, Yemir did her best not to pass out from the intense pain as she howled like a looney. Bao’s light smile vanished in an instant, her right eye twitching in irritation as Yemir wiped a few tears from her eyes. Calming down. “Oh, that’s a good one, Granny Bao. I thought you were being serious there”, Yemir chuckled. Only to note the annoyance Baozhai had been displaying. “... Oh god, you’re being serious, aren’t ya?” Yemir ruminates upon the Cofagrigus’ words before uttering a simple, “no”, in response. “No offense, but yer not exactly what I would consider a good fight? What do ya do, just flip around with yer little sword there and poke people in the gut? Nah, that’s kinda boring if ye ask me”, Yemir grunted with a lazy look on her face.

“Ah, I see how it is”, Baozhai mused out loud as she started at Yemir. “You’re simply afraid to have this old woman beat your ass, is that it? I suppose I'd be afraid to have my precious reputation too if a, how did you put it? A granny. Beat my ass as well. Perfectly natural response”, Baozhai said calmly as her words poked and prodded at Yemir’s ego. The Gallade bared her teeth, snarling deeply as she turned her back to Baozhai with her arms crossed. “Nice try. I know yer just trying to goad me into fightin’ ya. Ain’t gonna happen.” Without another word, Yemir slowly started to walk away from Baozhai. Yet the mummy wasn’t finished with her little insults. “Ah, I see how it is. Yemir is still pouting and throwing a fit over what happened in White Forest, is it? I wonder… how would your father feel about your cowardice?”

Yemir immediately froze on the spot. Stiff and silent like a statue as Baozhai continued forth with her little verbal assault. “That’s why you continue to suffer from such a sullen mood, no? You put all your faith and trust into someone you believed to be good. Someone you believed to be on your side. Only to find out that they’re not quite the person you thought them to be. Yet you just walk, acting like you’re some kind of hot shit. Being a perpetual mope and doing nothing to solve this little predicament of yours. Perhaps your brother had a good reason to betray you. Perhaps if your father was still alive today, he’d show nothing but disappointment at your inability to-”, Baozhai was cut off as a large rock went flying past her at breakneck speed. The armored ghost twisted her head at just the last second to avoid it before returning her attention back to Yemir. The short Gallade’s mouth had steam seeping out as her pupils were narrowed. Hands balled into fists. “Ya better hope yer as good at fightin’ as ye are at flapping yer lips!”

Baozhai paused for a few moments before a wry grin spread across her face. “See? Was that so hard? Now… give me everything you got”, Baozhai growled. Spreading her arms, as if to goad Yemir even further into attacking her. Naturally, this worked as Yemir barred her teeth, hands clenched into fists as she charged forward. Reckless as ever. Baozhai stood still, her eyes locked onto the Gallade, making no noise or movement until the brawny shrimp was right on top of her. Arm curled back, ready to deck Baozhai right in that pretty little face of hers. Yemir swung forward, only for her eyes to widen as Baozhai shifted to the side. Face stuck in that mocking expression as she gave Yemir a sharp slap over the back of her head with one of her ghostly hands. Yemir stumbled a bit, having swung her punch, only to meet nothing but air. Bao’s playful gesture only served to enrage Yemir further as the Cofagrigus merely chortled at her.

“Come now, surely you can do better than this, no? I thought Yemir was undefeatable”, the ghost taunted. Only adding to Yemir’s frustrations. The Gallade said nothing aside from low grunts and snarls. Her hands trembling at the chance to punch the snooty Cofagrigus. Yet, no matter how often Yemir lunged at Baozhai. All she received in response was that obnoxious smack over the back of her head. Again and again. The brute’s rage was starting to boil at this point. Any sense of caution thrown to the wind as her speed started to build up. Baozhai even noticed Yemir’s mass increasing as the seconds went by. In a couple of minutes, she had almost reached Baozhai’s height herself. Good progress, but not enough for Baozhai.

“Tell me, how does someone like yourself get praised for being such a good warrior? You have the brawn, yes. But that’s all you have. No thought behind your actions. No tact or strategy. Just swinging away with your massive fists. Maybe the only reason they praised you as such is that most didn’t know how to fight to begin with. Nothing but skill-less fools praising a bigger fool who was simply stronger than them.” Bao’s words tore into Yemir’s pride like a pack of hungry Houndoom digging into a fresh kill. “Shut it!”, the giant yelled, her fists swinging faster, more furiously. Yet Baozhai always seemed one step ahead. Just barely out of reach of her punches. “Shut it? Why should I? All you’ve been doing is running your mouth ever since we started our little journey. You can’t even touch me”, Baozhai taunted, her eyes narrowed at the giant. A blood vessel popped in Yemir’s forehead as her teeth grated against each other. Her mouth clenched in anger. Bringing out another punch to throw Baozhai’s way.

The Cofagrigus yawned, prepared to dodge another of Yemir’s blows.However, as the massive arm crossed Baozhai’s path, she felt a sharp sting on her face. Hissing, she pulled back, reaching towards her face, only to pull back. Green blood stained her black hand. Yemir… hit her? How? She didn’t see the punch connect with her face. Yet the damage was apparent to the old ghost. Yemir merely had an angry smile on her face. Pleased, she managed to land a hit on Baozhai, even if the effect wasn’t intended. “Keep on talkin’, Bao. I’ll wipe that smirk of yer face just yet”, the giant proclaimed loudly. Baozhai was silent for a few seconds before her mocking demeanor became considerably more serious. “You’ll regret that.”

Not wanting to let up on Baozhai, Yemir charged once more. Keeping the pressure on the ancient Cofagrigus as best she could. Yet as she was about to land a punch on Baozhai, all the giant could hear was a dull thud. Confused, Yemir turned her head to the side, only to see Baozhai standing her ground. Using both her forearms as a shield, the Cofagrigus managed to tank Yemir’s hit, barely budging from her spot. Baozhai merely glared back at Yemir with an angry smile of her own. “Hm, is this the best punch you can throw? Pathetic”, the ghost mocked. Her ghostly hair suddenly sprouted a life of its own. Wrapping around Yemir’s arm like snakes and squeezing ever so tightly so Yemir couldn’t get away. The growing giant had little time to contemplate Baozhai’s words or moves as she felt a ghastly energy well up near her abdomen. Looking down, the Gallade made note of a ShadowBall swelling up in size. Baozhai’s human hand near it as the energy felt more intense with each passing moment.

Yemir could barely let out a word as Baozhai unleashed her attack. Yemir let out a screech as she felt her massive body sent rocketing back. The ghostly energy orb driving into her body like a runaway train. Slamming into any poor tree caught in her way. Yemir was sent flying through the forest, leaving a small path of destruction in her wake as Baozhai merely stood up, watching her handiwork in action as a bright flash of purple, followed by a loud boom went off. “Ah… Perhaps I got a bit too carried away there. Haos would never let me hear the end of it if I wound up killing her.” The ghost knew better, though. Yemir certainly had a reputation for being resilient.

As Baozhai slowly made her way towards the impact zone, she made note of all the broken trees. Nothing but smouldering stumps at this point. The Shadowball had sent Yemir flying quite some ways away. Dozens of yards by the look of it. Until naught but a pile of broken trees and charred ground piled up where the giant once remained. “Yemir, are you still alive?”, the ghost called out. Leaning forward to get a better look, hoping for some sign of life. Yet it remained eerily silent. The Cofagrigus frowned, her body starting to tense up a bit as she expected Yemir to burst out of there any second now. Until she felt something grip her legs.

Her head snapped down, only to notice the shadows had sprung to life. Wrapping around her calves and ankles, as if they had a life of their own as Baozhai’s expression changed from one of uncertainty to one of regret. “Fuck”, was all the ghost could utter as the pile of debris suddenly exploded. Yemir, restored in all her monolithic glory, lept forth. Eyes wide with determination and fury. Her right arm reared back for one hell of a punch. Only this one was different. Her elbow vent had been spouting flames, roaring like a jet engine as Bao’s gut curled into a tight ball, her throat locked. The mummy could only brace herself before she felt several tons of might and rage slam into her. The Cofagrigus was slammed into the ground, the breath knocked out of her. All she could do was yell in pain as Yemir continued her unrelenting assault, constantly pounding her oversized fists into Baozhai’s chest as all Baozhai could do was yell in anger. Being driven further and further into the ground as the entire area around her shattered into a crater. Until, eventually, all that remained was a massive hole where Baozhai once stood. Yemir towering over it, breathing heavily as her anger simmered down a bit.

“... Well, that’s one way to vent me anger, I suppose”, Yemir grumbled to herself. Surveying all the destruction she had caused. The crater was much bigger than she expected. Staring at her arms, she made note of her elbow vent. Still smoking from the raw power she had just released. A big smile spread across her face. She didn’t know how she did it. But with those elbow vents, she could make her punches hit harder. Who knows what else she could do with them as well? Yemir didn’t waste much time reflecting on this, staring at the hole in the ground where Baozhai used to be. “Oi! Bao, ya in there?” Yemir called out, only to be greeted with silence. “Huh, maybe I punched her too hard,'' Yemir grunted. Looking at the scene of destruction before her. It was enough to flatten a small town and then some.

After staring at the Baozhai shaped hole in the ground for a few more seconds. Yemir merely shrugged her shoulders before turning around and walking away. The giant had no interest in following Baozhai anymore, to be quite frank. Yemir just didn’t feel like dealing with her bullshit anymore. As the giant lumbered forth a few yards, an all too familiar voice called out to her. Making Yemir’s ears perk up. “Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting warmed up”, called out the cold, yet condescending voice of Baozhai. Spinning around in disbelief, Yemir’s eyes widened upon seeing Baozhai standing before her. Her armor had seen better days, a few chips and cracks here and there. Her otherwise perfect face bruised, green blood dripping down the corner of her mouth while her normally smooth and straight hair had been frayed and messy.

Yet, Yemir noticed something off about Baozhai. Behind her chilly demeanor, her eyes seethed with a fire the brute thought missing in the empress. Admittedly, Yemir was impressed by the old ghost’s resilience. Most people wouldn’t take such a beating and get back up. Smirking, Yemir crossed her arm, staring down at Baozhai with a cocky grin. “Heh, I guess those dusty warriors follow ya fer a reason. But ya still pissed me off, so don’t expect me to go easy on ya”, the giant grunted, Baozhai simply narrowed her eyes at Yemir. The giant herself raised a brow when the Cofagrigus slowly unsheathed her sword. Holding it in one hand as Yemir merely smiled wider. “So, finally decided to take me seriously, aye? Good. I’m done talkin’ with ya”, Yemir grunted. Cracking her knuckles as the Cofagrigus assumed a defensive stance with her blade. As if expecting Yemir to make the first move.

The giant did not disappoint. Her smile replaced with a scowl, Yemir lunged at Baozhai. Her fists alight with fire, hoping to crush baozhai under the weight of her attack. Baozhai simply dodged to the side. A glint of steel crossed Yemir’s eyes, followed by a sharp pain. A large one opened up on her right forearm. A small geyser of purple blood sprayed out as Yemir’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t even see Baozhai swing her sword. The Cofagrigus didn’t let up. Weaving and ducking through every punch Yemir threw her way. Responding in kind with a swing of a sword. Slicing her way the giant’s flesh as if it were butter. Annoyed with all these scratches and nicks, Yemir bellowed mightily, slamming her clenched fists together as steam erupted from her body. Her muscles contracted, growing ever denser as her skin color darkened. As Baozhai swung her sword, her eyes widened as she felt the sword meet resistance. The flesh harder to carve through.

Yemir took it a step further, the shadows around them began to waver and twist. Darkened tendrils sprouting out of them like sharpened blades, jutting towards Baozhai. The mummy lept back, wincing as she felt a few nick her in the areas her armor didn’t cover. Yemir let out a roar as she charged at the retreating ghost. Her throat began to glow before a torrent of blue flames erupted from her mouth. Baozhai lept back, feeling the sapphire flames singe the tip of her hair, a small sneer forming on her face. Holding up her other hand, another Shadowball formed from Bao’s ghastly energy. Yet, the Cofagrigus did not throw it at Yemir, even as she managed to stay one step ahead of Yemir’s fiery breath. Instead, Baozhai pointed the tip of her blade at the ghostly sphere before piercing it. The energy enveloping the bladed. Taking on the shape of the sword itself, but doubling its length.

Yemir’s eyes widened, closing her mouth as she made note of what Baozhai pulled off. The back of her hair stood on edge. Her gut clenched while a dry lump formed in her throat. Something told the brute she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Spotting a boulder nearby that managed to survive their skirmish. Yemir plunged both her hands around it, plucking it out of the ground with a mighty lift. Yemir opened her mouth, spewing more flames around the rock. Seemingly clinging to it, as if it had a desire to never let go. The fire itself seemed to have no effect on the titan as she let it plop on the ground. The shadows around her danced and stretched, reaching out to the boulder before wrapping around it. Plunging one hand near the flaming rock, the shadows reached out, coiling around Yemir’s arm and holding tight.

A manic smile spread across Yemir’s face as she lifted her arm back up, the boulder followed suit, the shadows keeping the two tethered as the burly brute began to swing the flaming boulder around like a ball n’ chain. Baozhai had little time to react, rolling to the ground as she felt the heat of the massive rock pass by her. Mere inches from knocking her head off. Yet, despite it all, Baozhai retained her composure, unflinching in the face of Yemir’s might. Sword in hand, Baozhai sprung back into action. Racing right towards Yemir. This caught the giant off guard, swinging the flaming boulder around recklessly, in the vain hopes of crushing Baozhai. This did not deter Baozhai, who sprinted ever closer. Yemir pulled back her weapon, having it land perfectly in her meaty palm before swinging it horizontally, hoping to sweep Baozhai along with it. Yet Baozhai managed to slide underneath it, mere feet away from Yemir as her amber eyes burned brightly with determination.

It all happened so fast as the Cofagrigus lept forth, the ethereal blade slicing through her shadow tethered arm effortlessly. The giant felt nothing at first, naively thinking nothing happened. Only to watch as her limb suddenly separated from her shoulder. Flying through the air as it was still attached to the boulder. Careening some distance away before landing on the ground with an unceremonious thump. Yemir let out a loud yell, clutching at the stump where her right arm used to be as blood gushed out of it, the pain wracking through her body. Though the giant seemed to treat it more as an inconvenience then the fact she just lost an arm. Her grip tightened as she turned her head back at Baozhai. Her mismatched eyes glaring at the mummy, anger beginning to rise once more while the mummy matched her stare in ferocity. The two were silent before Baozhai simply uttered, “do you yield?”

Yemir snarled at the mummy, her teeth bared as she felt tempted to lunge for and crush the ancient spirit with her powerful jaws. Yet, in the back of Yemir’s mind, she recalled the little promise she had made to her father. Her face quivered before letting out a sigh, “I yield.” “Good”, the mummy seemed satisfied with Yemir’s response. Staring at her sword, Bao swung the blade to the side, flicking the titan’s blood off of it. “Sting is satisfied with the battle. Now fetch your arm, I would hate to see you forget the trinkets your father left behind”, the mummy stated. Yemir rolled her eyes, even though she wasn’t that forgetful as she stumbled forward to retrieve her missing limb. Baozhai walked in step by Yemir’s side, silently eyeing the giant’s wound while Yemir leaned forward, picking the limb up with her free hand. “Excellent, let us make haste, lest we attract unwanted guests with our little scuffle”, Baozhai gestured to all the destruction around them. Yemir merely stared at Baozhai as she turned around and began to walk away. 

“Why?”, the giant called out. Stopping the empress in her tracks as Yemir took a step forward. “Why are ya doing this? Ye hate my guts. Sliced my damn arm off fer fuck’s sake. But ya still want me with you. Why?”, the giant called out as Baozhai remained silent before simply responding with, “I have a duty to my friends, nothing more.” Yemir’s mouth curled into a snarl as she took another step forward. “Bullshit!”, the giant yelled at the top of her lungs. “There’s more than just fucking duty! Yer a bitch, there’s gotta be a better reason!” Baozhai turned her head in response to this, her eyes matching Yemir with a frosty glare. “Say that again”, the ghost demanded of Yemir, her tone unwavering.

Yemir paused, looking down at the severed hand she clutched tightly before looking back up at Baozhai. “Yer a bitch.” Baozhai merely let out an icy laugh, chilling Yemir’s soul. “You’re right, I am a bitch… Does it matter, though?”, the warrior ghost replied as she crossed her arms. Yemir tilted her head, trying to respond. Yet nothing would come out as she fumbled with the words. “I’m a bitch. A tyrant. A devil. I’ve been called these things and more by those who hated me with every fiber of their being. But does it matter? To which I would say, no, it didn’t. Want to know why? Because they lacked the power to be right”, Baozhai proclaimed casually. Waving an arm, as if to dismiss these accusations.

“It’s one thing to speak the truth. It’s another to have the power to back it up as well. For what good is “truth” if you can’t maintain your own? What good is the wailing of those who had been conquered, yet lacked the strength to stand up and make their truth become a reality? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing”, Baozhai stated, her serene expression became more menacing as a result. “You want to know why I’m helping you? True, I do have my duty to my friend. But I also have my own reasons. If I am to retake my kingdom, my region. What good is ruling if I have naught but cinders and the entire world breathing down my back?”, the ghost explained, expression never faltering. “You think those Golurks were trouble? They’re only the beginning! In case you fail to notice, you practically nuked an entire forest, caused untold damage to a nearby city and the surrounding area-”, only to be cut off by Yemir. 

“-That wasn’t my fault, it was Whisper and Eudai’s fault!”, Yemir retorted. Baozhai’s serene expression shattered in an instant. “It is your fucking fault, Yemir! You think just because your siblings pissed you off that it makes things better? Men, women, children. You killed everyone in that area and now they’ll want blood! You think people give a fuck? Honestly, answer me that. Do they give a shit about you throwing a little temper tantrum because Eudai is an asshole? No, they do not! The only thing that matters to them is your death and nothing will change that.” Baozhai was practically fuming with anger, Yemir unable to talk back as the mummy’s words hit the giant like a truck. After a few seconds, an aura surrounded Baozhai. Her seething rage subdued as she returned to her calmer demeanor. Staring back at Yemir, her expression.

“Let me ask you this. When you exploded, White Forest was gone. But do you believe your siblings perished on that day? Wiped away in the blast of your all consuming rage?” Yemir stared at the ground like a whipped dog. Unable to answer for a short bit before she took in a deep breath and sighed. “No, I never saw it and I have no memories of what happened in our fight fer the most part. But I can… feel them. Like me gut knows they’re still out there”, Yemir rumbled. Refusing to make eye contact with Baozhai. “I’ll take your word for it. If that’s the case, then they’ll likely take advantage of this situation. Use your desperation against you. Especially Eudai”, Baozhai commented, Yemir had a spark of anger in her from mention of that name.

“I know the pain that comes from betrayal, truly, I do. But going about this blindly, nonchalantly, there's no solution at all. You mentioned your brother wanting to become one. If this is the case, I want you to contemplate your brother holding the raw physical strength you’re capable of, as well as the strange power your sister wields. How well do you think that’ll go?” The question seemed to slap Yemir in the face as she lifted her head. “Not good.”

“Yes, not good at all. So ask yourself this. Which truth do you want to prevail? The truth of Eudai? Validated in his treachery. Or the truth of Yemir? Who managed to endure, despite the machinations of her siblings.” Yemir barely gave this question any thought. “My truth.” Baozhai smiled slightly at this, seemingly pleased with Yemir’s response. “As it should be. Now come, I’d really like a headstart before they come to “grace” us with their presence”, Baozhai scoffed as Yemir raised her brow, staring down at the empress. “Wha, wait. Who? Whose coming?” Yemir asked. Baozhai paused before staring back at Yemir. “White Forest is home to a great many deal of creatures. Yet, is special to a certain group that hailed from this region long ago.” Baozhai paused, turning her back to Yemir, but not before uttering a single word.

“Dragons.”

[awkwxrdapple]

Sometimes - Javier Peña x Reader

“Sometimes, just sometimes, well alright maybe all of the time.” - Sometimes by Gerry Cinnamon (x)

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: What you have to know is that I am a sucker for “there was only one bed” style tropes. It’s just fluff and sleep related angst. With no back story, it just is what it is. This came to me while I was in the middle of my chem midterm so enjoy :) I’ve set it up for a second part I think, so we will see how it goes haha.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you ok?”

Javi exhaled smoke slowly. You weren’t expecting an honest answer, or any answer at all. You just had to ask. Watching him sit, slumped, on your sofa was worrying. The man looked exhausted. You were used to having him lounge lazily on your couch whenever he came round, but this time it was different. Before, he still had an air of confidence around him, whereas now he looked like he was ready to drop any minute.

After a few seconds of no reply you changed your question. 

“Are you sleeping?” 

“No.” 

The short, blunt answer startled you as you were still expecting to get nothing back from him. You were happy he was with you now, that he had come to your apartment. Something was clearly bothering him, and maybe a stranger wouldn’t have been able to tell, but luckily for Javi, you weren’t a stranger. Far from it. 

“Do you try to sleep?” It was a stupid question, but one you needed to ask. You knew his habits, he could spend all night out in a bar or a brothel to avoid sleep if he wanted to. The latter being one that brought a nasty taste to your mouth. 

“Not any more.” As you had expected. 

“Javi, you need to try.” Your voice was soft. 

“I have tried.”

“Try again then.” 

The lights of the buildings of Bogotá were bright against the inky blackness of the night sky. Your curtains were still open showing the proof that it was late. You had been sitting in each other's company for a while.

Javi saw you looking up at the window, and instantly felt guilt at keeping you up too. Just because he wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight, doesn’t mean that he has to stop you too. 

“I should go Y/N.” 

Bringing your attention back to Javi, he seemed to look even worse than he did a few minutes ago. There was no way you were going to let him out of your apartment to go and do God knows what until tomorrow morning when he would start the self-destructive cycle all over again. 

“No, I want you to stay. Please.” 

“Why? You need to go to sleep and I’m keeping you up.” Javi removed himself from your sofa and took steps towards your door. 

“Javi, look at me.” He did stop and brought his gaze to yours. “Would you sleep if you stayed here?”

Your question threw him slightly. It was something he had never considered as to him, that would be a huge imposition on you. But now you were the one to mention it, maybe it would work. He had nothing to lose in the sleep department. He either would, or he wouldn’t. Yet, he also had a lot else to lose. Staying here, in your apartment, knowing you were lying peacefully only a room away, had so many domestic connotations. That was a reason he had never considered staying at yours ever, because could he put himself through that? The magnetic pull he felt around you would be ever harder to resist if he said yes. 

As soon as he let himself slip just once, it would be harder the next time. And then all his worries of keeping you safe and out of his complicated, dangerous life would manifest into reality.

“You can sleep in my room and I will have the sofa. I really don’t mind.” 

Your eyes were pleading him to stay. 

“Thank you. But I can’t. But thank you.” 

Trying not to look at you again, Javi left your apartment before you could try any harder to convince him to stay. 

+  +  +

The next time Javi knocked on your apartment door, it was much later in the evening. You had even been lying in bed for the past half an hour reading. The knocking on your door had startled you considering the hour.

“Javi, what-” 

“Can I take you up on your offer?” He was leaning against the door frame in a way to hold himself up. His body language screamed of fatigue. You wondered how his day had gone. Had he been on a stakeout? Had it been dangerous? 

“What offer?” You were confused for a moment. 

“Sleep… here.” It almost pained him to admit he wanted the comfort and safety of your apartment. 

Your eyes widened when you finally realised what “offer” he was referring to and opened your door further to let him in. 

“I don’t want to bother you at all.” Javi started, wandering over to your couch. “You won’t even know I’m here, apart from the fact I’ll be on your couch.” He let himself fall heavily down onto the cushions. 

“Javi it’s fine don’t worry. You can have my bed if you want and I’ll sleep out here.” You walked to the linen cupboard to reach down a spare pillow and blanket.

Even before he entered your apartment he knew you would say this, and he had planned what he would say in return. There was no way he was going to have you give up your own bed. He was the one imposing on you. 

He hadn’t even consciously realised he was at your door until you had opened it to reveal you wearing pyjama shorts and a tank top. You found it hard to sleep sometimes in the Colombian heat. The amount of skin on show surprised Javi, making him even more aware of your presence. The thrill of the idea of running his hands over every part of your exposed skin was intoxicating. If he wasn’t so utterly exhausted he may have done. Soft. That’s the first word that came to mind upon seeing you in cozy clothing. 

“No, I’m fine here, honestly.” At least Javi had the strength to fight you on this. 

You considered him for a moment, weighing up your points for a good counter argument, but he had already made himself comfortable. Instead, you just handed him the pillow and blanket. 

“Thank you, hermosa.” Javi drawled lazily shoving the pillow underneath his dark hair. 

The nickname didn’t go unnoticed. Your Spanish was good enough to know what he had called you. You wanted to revel in it, allow yourself a small bit of joy that he used that word to address you. Until you remembered that you probably weren’t the first, or last, girl to be called that by Javier Peña. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You saw he had already closed his eyes. And for the first time in weeks you could finally describe him as peaceful. You were going to ask him about his day at work, to try and work out what had finally made him come to you, but by doing so now you would only disturb his peace. 

+   +   +

You woke suddenly, and surprised yourself by the blackness of your room. It still wasn’t morning yet. Your phone read 4:32. 

Remembering Javi was in your apartment, you had the urge to see if he was actually asleep. Was being here actually giving him any respite against his insomnia? 

Trying not to make any noise, you crept to your bedroom door and opened it as quietly as possible. From here you could see his figure lying still on the sofa. A thin sliver of light from in between the drawn curtains shed a small amount of light into the main room. You could tell from the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that he was in fact, asleep. 

Smiling to yourself you closed the door again and retreated back into the darkness.

+   +   +

Javi sleeping on your couch sometimes became routine very quickly. 

You had got used to leaving the pillow and blanket there every evening, as more often than not he would turn up to use it. You liked it, it was nice knowing where he was, and even nicer to know that when he needed someone, he came to you. 

When you offered him your spare key he was incredibly reluctant to take it. You wanted him to have it so he could come and go as he pleased at night. You knew staying at his own apartment wasn’t working for him, so you wanted to give him freedom in another safe space. 

Eventually, he did accept the key, and sometimes he did use it. Whether that be to leave and come back at night for something, or to let himself in if you had gone out for the evening. You would come back to find him passed out in your living room, the curtains still open giving the tranquil scene an urban backdrop. You would creep around him and close them silently, before retiring to your own bed. 

Amazingly, you found your sleep had improved too. Although some nights you were more aware of the man in your apartment with you. Knowing he was in the other room was soothing, but at the same time maddening. The fact that you were too good friends meant you could never offer your own bed to him, with you still in it. No matter how much you wanted to. So you just were content with knowing that you were helping a friend. Javi had started to look better even from the first night he had spent at yours, something that only got better with time. 

One night was very different though. 

You had just finished eating dinner at the little breakfast bar in your kitchen when Javi practically stumbled into your apartment. At first you thought he was drunk, but then it became apparent that something else ailed him. There was a horrible purple bruise on the side of his face. 

“Javi!” As soon as you saw him you ran towards him and helped him to sit down. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

“Well it’s obviously not.”

You cautiously brought the tips of your fingers to the afflicted skin. He winced as you touched it - just as you thought. It wasn’t fine. 

“What happened?” Your voice was almost a whisper. You knew what he did for a job, you knew it was dangerous, but only now were you seeing that with your own eyes. In all the time you’d known Javi, you had seen him get into a few scrapes but nothing as bad as this. The bruise covered from next to his right eye all the way down his cheek. 

“One of Escobar’s sicarios had a gun, which ran out of ammo, so he used it in another way.” 

You were still inspecting the damage. There was no obvious swelling so icing it wouldn’t do anything now. Rest is what he needed. 

“Please tell me you managed to get a few punches in too.”

“Unluckily for him, my gun was working perfectly.”

“Ah…” You wondered how the other guy managed to get so close.

Javi turned to look you dead in the eye. Your face was already so close to his and the close proximity almost winded you. You had always been fascinated by his dark brown eyes. You hadn’t known anyone to have eyes as dark but still so lovely to look at, because they were so warm, and comforting. Yet, there was something else that was there too. Something that may be considered wary or even haunted. What had Javi witnessed as part of his job? 

Neither of you had said anything for a few moments, however neither of you had made a move to shift away from each other.  

“Has work been a lot like this recently?” He could still hear your whisper even though you could barely hear yourself. 

“Yeah it’s been… difficult lately.” 

“You are so brave and strong though Javi.” He winced at your words. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.” 

“I don’t, not from you. You’re just wrong.” 

“No I’m not. You are, even if you don’t believe it.” You allowed your words to be flooded with determination. You hated that he thought this way about himself. 

Javi leant forwards and instinctively put his head in his hands. He winced again at the contact. The affection you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming. 

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not really, I feel more dizzy than anything.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“No I don’t. Cause for one, this was an unauthorised stakeout.”

“Javi.” 

“Y/N please, just let me rest.” 

Putting everything else aside and prioritising Javi’s well-being you found yourself saying, “Come and lie down on my bed.” The couch was no place for someone injured. 

You briefly saw a flash of worry cross his face. Was the thought of lying on your bed so bad? 

You helped him up and he leant on you on the way into your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes at the door and you allowed him to lie on his back. 

“You know you shouldn’t be left alone.” 

“I know, that’s why I came here, because I know you would watch out for me.” 

You were now lying on your side next to him, and upon hearing that you felt a blush creep into your cheeks. You would always watch out for him. You were glad he knew that. 

“You should rest.” You moved to get up but a strong arm caught your arm. 

“Stay please.” 

“I was only going to get the blanket to sleep on the floor in here.”

“No I mean, stay here. Please.” His hand was still wrapped around your forearm. 

“Ok.” You agreed, and settled back onto the bed, bringing the sheets up over the both of you. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You said softly, for what felt like the millionth time recently. That in itself was soothing. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” 

Every cell in your body was on fire as you could feel his body heat radiating through your bed. You wanted to reach out and have some physical contact with him. Nevertheless, you knew he needed rest, and you were only friends, so there were boundaries. You rolled over to give him space and willed yourself to sleep. 

+   +   +

The first thing you thought when you woke up was how warm you were. Not an uncomfortable heat, just nice warmth. 

Javi’s arm was around you. 

Sometime through the night he had moved so his chest was up against your back. The muscles of his arm were strong and solid. You wondered if he had moved consciously, or unconsciously. You couldn’t decide which was better. He was definitely still asleep though, as the rhythm of his breathing was even and shallow. 

You, consciously, snuggled back into his embrace, and could feel yourself dozing off again until you were startled by movements from him. Javi’s arm tightened around you even more and he moved so his face was nestled into your neck, you could feel his nose lightly touching your skin. 

You couldn’t help but grin. You thought about all the times he had slept in your apartment but not in your room with you - it was a waste. You’d both been missing out on this. Maybe in Colombia this was the closest feeling to home you both of you would get. 

Masterlist 

[syndianites]

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter Four

First Chapter –> Last Chapter –> Current –> Next Chapter Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Jean-Jacques had been part of Chloe’s life since she was a young girl. Despite her tenacious desire to be more like her mother- who the staff of the hotel whispered less than kind things about- Jean-Jacques found her to be quite endearing. He helped raise her, after all.

And though he had many misgivings about Audrey Bourgeois, it still hurt him to see Chloe distraught about her. Of course, as with all matters attending to Chloe, he was the one meant to break the bad news.

At precisely 9’o’clock in the morning he was given the news that Audrey would be leaving for New York once more. Did this surprise him? No. Would it devastate Chloe? Most likely.

So he could be forgiven for taking his time going to wake Chloe. In some hopeful, foolish part of his mind, he wondered if the extra bit of sleep would give her the clarity to see her mother simply could not care less about her.

But, as he knocked on her suite door- receiving no answer- he knew better than to expect such a thing. Instead he entered the suite, moving to Chloe’s bedroom.

Chloe was sleeping peacefully, light snuffles coming from her as her mouth hung open. If Jean-Jacque had paid just a bit more attention to the room he may have seen a flash of yellow disappear beneath the duvet Chloe had haphazardly tossed around in her sleep. As it stood, he looked at his charge for a minute before heaving a sigh.

This was never an easy task.

With a gentle hand, Jean-Jacque shook Chloe by the shoulder. She mumbled something, throwing an arm out over her face and digging into her pillow. Jean-Jacque couldn’t stop a fond smile from growing. She still acted like the little kid he was put in charge of sometimes.

“Madam, it is time to wake up,” Jean-Jacque spoke softly.

He received a groan in response. Instead of getting up she rolled over, blonde hair turning into a bigger mess of tangles as she moved. He shook his head. Chloe didn’t have much time to wait, so it seemed he would have to pull out the big guns.

Gently, he grabbed the edges of her duvet and pulled it up to her chin. She sighed comfortably. Ah, how peaceful she looked. Then he yanked the duvet down with a flick of his wrists.

“Nooooo,” a tired grumble came from Chloe.

She flailed in the bed, looking for her covers. In her little tussle she kicked a yellow stuffie she had under her duvet. Jean-Jacque looked down at it curiously.

It was mostly yellow, with black markings. From the antennae and stinger, he assumed it must be a bee. How interesting! The little plushie was soft and warm from what he could feel through his gloves. Giving it a pleasant smile, he placed it down on Chloe’s end table.

Giving Chloe’s shoulder a firmer shake, Jean-Jacque tried to call her from sleep. “Madam, your mother is leaving back to New York today. If you don’t get up soon you will miss seeing her before she leaves.”

This worked.

Chloe flung herself into a sitting position. “What!? What do you mean she is leaving!”

Before he could explain, she shoved her way out of bed and dashed to her closet. She took out a silken night-robe to cover her yellow-plaid pajama bottoms and white tank top before striding determinedly out of her room.

Ah, he hadn’t had the chance to tell her where Audrey would be. He cringed as he thought of the poor staff she would interrogate to find out. With a sigh, he turned to make Chloe’s bed for her.

In his worry, he failed to notice that the little “plushie” was gone from where he placed it.

///////////

Chloe was not a morning person. When given the chance she would gladly get her beauty sleep. So why was she running around the hotel on a weekend day this early in the morning?

Her mother was trying to leave without saying goodbye.

She grit her teeth. Her mother was just busy packing, surely. Being such a renowned fashion critic her schedule must be packed. She probably didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her father!

As Chloe strutted through the front lobby, weaving between hotel occupants finding their way to their free breakfast the staff provided, she assured herself she wasn’t too late. Her mother was all about style, after all, and what was more fabulous than being fashionably late?

When she reached the banister, Chloe’s eyes zeroed in on her mother ordering around some of the staff, having them move her bags about. Her father was standing by her side, slightly hunched inward.

‘Ah,’ Chloe grit her teeth. ‘He must have seen her trying to leave.’

Chloe rushed down the steps, deftly moving between patrons in her rush. Her father saw her coming first, brightening up at her arrival.

“Princess! There you are. I was worried Jean-Jacque would be too late in telling you your mother was departing.” He smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her head as she pulled up next to him.

She paid him no mind.

Her mother didn’t bother to spare her a glance. “Ah, Chlorine, how nice of you to show up. I was just telling your father that I was to be returning to New York. I have no other business to attend to here.”

Chloe’s heart sunk. Of course her mother had to go already. It was foolish to hope that she would stick around longer. After all, she was busy!

Yeah, busy.

“I wanted to make sure I could say goodbye, mother,” Chloe said. “Before you left.”

Waving a hand in her direction, her mother shrugged her off. “How kind. I’ll let you two know when I’m coming back again. Please make sure to keep things running smoothly here, Andre. I would hate to return to a mess of a hotel.”

Biting back a frown, Chloe dutifully listened to her mother chatter about her plans. Apparently, Paris was not as quick to the draw in the fashion industry as New York was. This year, in any case. With all the akuma attacks designers and major brands had taken to avoiding the city. Which made sense, of course. 

The only thing that really brought her mother back, according to her, was Gabriel Agreste and a few other top designers that still lived in Paris. Despite the constant threat, there was a good handful of people content with the fact that Chat Noir and Ladybug could handle the dangers akuma posed.

Her mother, however, did not care.

“If those two so-called ‘heroes’ can’t even have a decent wardrobe, how can I expect them to keep this place safe?” Her mother huffed. “After all, they didn’t stop Carina here from turning evil and betraying her mother. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.” The last sentence was emphasised with a head tilt and glance in her direction.

Chloe’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

“They are simply not good enough to keep me here. Perhaps if they could lay waste to Mothman faster I would stay.” Her mother, of course, hadn’t been around that much regardless. Not that Chloe or her father would say anything about that.

As her father helped herd the staff towards the awaiting limo, Chloe watched her mother walk away from her. Again.

This time, she didn’t stay with her mother until the last minute. Instead she turned back towards the lobby once her parents left the hotel. Despite how much she wanted to see her mother, the words she spoke to her yesterday rang in her head.

She didn’t want a repeat of those words today. Especially when she was still in her night clothes.

So she rode the elevator back up to her suite, all the while trying not to think about her mother. About how she wanted to take Marinette to New York with her. How she probably would.

Chloe furiously scrubbed her face with her hands. Enough was enough! She would not think about Dupain-Cheng until Monday when school came back around. If she was still there then clearly she was too foolish or unworthy to go with her mother to New York. If she wasn’t…

Well, that would be one less loser to worry about.

When she returned to her room Jean-Jacque was nowhere in sight. Her bed, however, was neatly made. She flopped onto her chaise. Now she was painfully awake far too early in the morning on a Saturday of all days.

“Your mother is certainly a character.”

Chloe jumped at the voice. Sitting up straight and turning around, she watched Pollen lazily float over to sit next to her on the backrest. They frowned at each other.

“She just doesn’t have time for those below her,” Chloe replied.

Pollen raised an eyebrow. “Below her? Why would any of the people who work for your family be below her, never mind the guests that stay at the hotel.”

Chloe threw her hands up. “Because they are commoners! At least, the staff is. The hotel guests are people paying to stay at our luxury hotel. And my mother? She is the Queen of Style. Her word can make or break a brand, or trend, or anything to do with fashion. Compared to the rest of the people in this building she is a god.”

Bringing a paw up to hide her laugh, Pollen shook her head. “So she’s above others because she makes her opinions known and others take them to heart? Interesting. I suppose I have been asleep for a while if that’s how things go nowadays.”

“Okay, no, not anyone can do that. But my mother worked from the ground up to get to her position. She crafted her empire through determination and wit! There’s nothing unexceptional about that.”

“So she used to be a commoner, then?”

Pollen’s words stunned Chloe.

“I- uh, no? She was never just some common person-”

“Is that because she had always been exceptional, even before the world saw her as such? Or is it because she was born into money?”

That stumped her. She… honestly didn’t know her mother’s background. She knew as much as the tabloids did- that Paris’ Style Queen had built up her reputation quick and fast despite the newness of her personal brand. As far as anyone knew, her family was fairly wealthy and supported her from day one.

Just like Chloe had hoped to get from her mother one day.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chloe insisted, “Because she is still better than the rest of the rabble downstairs.”

Polled huffed, getting up to sit on Chloe’s knee. “What makes her better? Her money? Her status? Who she is married to?”

“Obviously, it’s-” Chloe began, only to get interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Pollen commented, repeating Chloe’s earlier words. “It’s all artificial. What makes your father better than the rest of them, then?”

“He’s the Mayor of Paris! He has to be better than the rest to be mayor,” Chloe replied.

“How did he become mayor?”

“He was voted in, of course.”

Pollen smiled. “So the commoners decided they liked him more than the others?”

With a groan, Chloe let her head fall back against the chaise. “Duh, that’s why he’s better than them.”

“And your mother was declared the Style Queen because she had the support of other commoners?”

“I guess so.”

“So what I'm hearing,” Pollen continued, “Is that the word of the commoners is the most important part of being above them?”

Chloe took a moment to consider that. Her brain twisted and turned trying to wrap around the idea. The common people… gave them their superiority?

“You’re thinking too hard, Chloe. What I’m trying to say is that power is given by the people. Assuming you are better than others is hypocritical because you could just as easily be one of them. What makes someone famous? What others think of them. If the ‘commoners’, as you love to call them, didn’t think that your mother’s word was worth something, or that you father was best suited to being the Mayor of Paris, would they be who they are now?”

“Oh my god Pollen,” Chloe threw an arm over her face, muffling her next words. “That shouldn’t make sense. What the hell.”

Pollen beamed. Had Chloe been looking, she may have seen hope grow in the kwami’s eyes.

“Of course it does,” Pollen hummed, “because you already knew that. Think about it- how did Marinette become class representative?”

Chloe was silent, before muttering, “The rest of the class voted for her.”

“Why?”

“Because they like her.”

“Exactly! I could tell even from the small amount of time I spent in the room that Marinette was well liked. For a ‘commoner’ she sure is exceptional.”

Chloe froze. Pollen, of course, knew what she said. Knew exactly the word that got to her, too.

Bringing her hands down to her lap, Chloe let out a long breath. “Exceptional enough for my mother to take her to New York.”

“It comes full circle, doesn’t it?” Pollen mused. She was treading on a delicate topic. Despite the horrid way her mother treated her, Chloe obviously valued her mother’s opinion. If she tried to denounce her mother too soon Chloe would lash out at Pollen, killing their relationship. But if she didn’t try to unweave Audrey’s teachings then Chloe would be stuck the way she is.

So she decided to do something risky.

“It’s not your fault she left.”

Chloe’s head snapped up. Eyes wide, she looked down at Pollen wordlessly. Then, her eyebrows drew together along with an angry sneer. “Of course not! Why would you even think that?”

‘Carefully, now,’ Pollen reassured herself. 

“Because,” She began, “You were thinking it.”

Waiting for Chloe to lash out, Pollen kept a neutral face. But something had shifted in Chloe since the day before. Watching her intently, Pollen watched her face fall.

Chloe took a shuddering breath. “I did. Think about it, I mean. But she’s just busy. She’s always been too busy to stick around.”

Pollen gazed at her sadly. “Too busy to say goodbye?”

Biting her lip, Chloe fought tears. She would not break down for the second time in less than twenty four hours!

Instead, she turned to look out her window. “Why does she always leave, Pollen?” Chloe’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. It struck a chord in the kwami.

“Sometimes the people we love won't stay with us, even when we want them to. And it’s no fault of our own. Everyone has their own path in life,” Pollen explained, placing a placating paw on Chloe’s hands.

Noticing that her hands had clenched into fists, Chloe fought to relax. It wasn’t the first time her mom had left her. Why did it hurt so much now? 

Closing her eyes, Chloe fought to remain neutral. “What about you? I thought you were staying to see if I was a good person. Are you going to stick around?”

Pollen stroked her hands gently. “You aren’t a good person.” When Chloe stiffened, she quickly added, “But there is good in you. I don’t think you are ready to be a hero yet, but that’s okay. I promise that I will be here for you, even if you never become a hero. I want to stay with you.”

And despite everything, despite her mother leaving and not bothering to say goodbye, despite her words to her yesterday, Chloe felt something in her heart ease. Just a little.

“You better not.”

[crystalelemental]

One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn't belong. Can you tell me which thing is not like the others? Before I finish my-

IT'S SIEBOLD BECAUSE HE'S A BITCH

Vs. Malva I WAS SO CLOSE, SIEBOLD, YOU ASSHOLE BITCH! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I ENDURED JUST TO GET THAT FAR? LET ME TELL YOU! Improved secondary effect condition means that the 60% flinch rates are guaranteed. So we guaranteed flinch locked the entire stage into submission, while Brock steadily threw out Rock Slides to chunk. Once the sides dropped, all three had guaranteed flinch rates. Unfortunately, two attacks getting through flinch means she gets sync, and that's pretty bad. Because we blocked so many hits and removed Sun, her sync didn't actually KO anyone. Blue could recover up with his Gradual Healing, and Acerola just needed defense buffs to survive. Brock apparently did it naturally. So chalk this up as the first time SS Brock has done anything that others couldn't do too. Grant couldn't have managed this. And it's beating one of the toughest Rock stages in the game.

Vs. Drasna I knew it. Candice is plenty capable of trucking this stage. Ghetsis' Glaciate is definitely capable as well, taking out the right side with perfect timing to avoid the catastrophe that was Skyla dropping. The Ghetsis upgrade is so useful after all. Unfortunately, them being so good means I don't know what this stage does still, but apparently it involves Furious Brain on the sides. So that's delightful.

Vs. Wikstrom Silver exploded them all. It wasn't even funny, except it was hilarious. I'm kinda floored that Marley took so little damage, but I guess the physical defense shield worked out in our favor for once. Unfortunately this means I still don't know what this stage does either. I did see that he boosts defense per attack this time! That's pretty cute. Very specifically trying to stop Silver and Blaine. Didn't work! But A for effort.

Vs. Siebold Douche-lord supreme over here. Siebold is, in my humble opinion, downright impossible to beat F2P. Needing status, having such intense speed debuffing and defense debuffing, the rampage of AoE attacks. There's nothing to beat him. Hau? Inertia sync is ruined by the speed drops. BP Sophocles? AoE deals too much for him to survive, and his damage actually can't keep up with Siebold himself. There's just...no way. I refuse to believe there's a way to do this that doesn't involve premium. Maybe with the Elesa upgrade and Volkner. Maybe. But even that I'm going to say is super unlikely. Oh, and you can forget Stall. Even aside from the damage thrown around, the defense drops make it effectively impossible. This guy...is unstoppable F2P. I couldn't do it, man. I could not do it.

Vs. Diantha This was, admittedly, luck based. BP Janine dodged some really important attacks to dodge. Koga's actually able to deal sufficient damage for clean KOs, with BP Erika setting up stall tactics. Which were integral to taking out the right side. I'm pretty satisfied with this. One day I should run Lucy or Roxie against these stages, but that day is not today, it seems.

Final Thoughts If it weren't for Siebold, this would've been arguably one of the easiest F2P clears of any modern CS. But, if it weren't for the max flinch rate against Malva, there's no way in hell we would've won that, so I guess we'll call it even.

I'm kinda surprised, though I shouldn't be, at how good Ice is as F2P. Candice's sync nuke is for real, and Ghetsis' Glaciate does spectacular numbers for the sides. It really is an ideal partnership with any speed buffing, thanks to Ghetsis' grid expansion. I guess I undersold it. The Fire stage also feels really easy thanks to Silver. That SEUN Sun-boosted nuke is so nice. And hey, shoutouts to BP Janine. She can't tank to save her life, but sometimes when you need her, she does dodge.

Malva is ridiculous. Were it not for the flinch, there's no chance. Brock was dealing like 3k per Rock Slide after two syncs and she was the only one standing, this was so not happening. I'd love to see anyone pull it off F2P. You really just need insane DPS, or Classic Blue, for that stage.

But Siebold. Oooooh my god, I feel like we underestimate the wrath of Siebold, because if you don't have something premium this feels impossible. He's ridiculous. I'm kinda floored they made something this hostile toward F2P. I can't remember the last time I felt like a stage was this aggressive about it. So I guess he gets the Tough Guy Award, and sadly Wikstrom gets the Weenie Award. That's just what happens when you're weak to Fire. Though he did try. There's just no stopping Silver.

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 6

Day 6 of whumptober and part 6 of the oof!au. (Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.)

I.... arranged this preface a little different today because we’ve moved into the peak of Anakin’s nastiness, today and tomorrow. He’s laying the ground work for his own defeat, but we’re not there, yet. It’s also a brief return to using the right prompt on the right day! Look at that! Technically “Get It Out” probably applies, actually....

Warnings for torture, abuse of a prisoner, non-con (of a particularly twisted sort), being mind controlled into hurting someone you love in some pretty awful ways. PLEASE heed the warnings. Dead dove, do not eat, etc. 

No 6. PLEASE…. 

“Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”

 The med-droids rarely had reason to file reports on Mustafar. Vader didn’t care what they did to the troopers. He left those reports, taking a twisting sort of pleasure in it, to filter through to 2224, who… Likely did nothing with them. Why would it? Vader demanded only reports on Obi-Wan’s progress, as time went past.

Apparently, he had died twice while they worked to preserve his life after Vader crushed his throat to make him stop speaking about Shmi. Still, they had managed to get him stabilized, managed to keep him alive, which was as it should be. He was only permitted to die when Vader decided he was, and--

And Vader was not ready for that moment, regardless of Obi-Wan’s foolish decisions. He tossed the report aside, ignoring a comment about severe damage to Obi-Wan’s vocal cords - apparently they were not sure they could repair them - fury curling around in his gut and through his bones. He’d known Obi-Wan was a monster, but to say such things about his mother--

She hadn’t deserved anything that had happened to her. Her entire life had been a punishment for crimes uncommitted. Finding her in the village of the Sand People had proven to Anakin that the galaxy needed direction, a strong hand, someone to make things right--

He swallowed, his respiratory and cardiac systems entirely out of order, the image of his mother chained up, brutalized, rising in his mind, memories he didn’t want and fought so hard to bury. He shut his eyes, shaking his head, and when he opened them again he was staring at the rack where Obi-Wan had hung.

For an awful, lurching moment, his mind supplied an image of his mother, hanging there, instead, and of Obi-Wan strung up in the Sand People’s hut, and he lurched a step backwards, a scream caught in his throat as he lashed out with the Force.

No one came to check on him, despite the cacophony of noises that must have echoed out from the room. When he did call the troopers in, later, he only said, “Remove that. I never want to see it again.”

He listened, staring out at the lava, as they dragged the twisted pieces of the rack, still covered with Obi-Wan’s blood - not his mothers, never his mother’s, he could have never hurt her, never - away.

#

Obi-Wan had done something to him, Vader realized, later, when he found himself down in the infirmary, staring at the bacta tank where Obi-Wan floated, healing slowly from the latest wounds he’d forced Vader to inflict upon him.

Obi-Wan had - had gotten into his head, somehow. He must have found a way around the collar. He’d used the poison of his words to steal Vader’s ability to think clearly, to rest. He could not stop conflating the images of his mother and Obi-Wan, which was -- ridiculous. 

They were nothing alike.

Obi-Wan had never done anything but fail him, but turn Padmé against him, but try to hold him back and confuse him, diverting him from his true purpose. Vader stared at him, fists clenched, and resolved to make Obi-Wan pay for everything he’d done.

Including the new nightmares, playing out each time Vader closed his eyes. Vader tried to make him pay, after the med-droids repaired him, but his voice wouldn’t work, even after the droids said he was recovered. Vader sent Obi-Wan back, for more work, eaten up by the nightmares and memories echoing in his head.

He needed to make Obi-Wan pay. Somehow. He had time to think of something appropriate, while Obi-Wan recovered.

#

The nightmares remained, terrible, confusing things put in his head by Obi-Wan, through another campaign. Vader returned to Mustafar in a foul temper, feeling so full of anger at the injustice of it all that he almost vibrated with it. 

He found he did not care if Obi-Wan had recovered or not, barking an order that Obi-Wan be delivered to him, immediately. He’d taken injuries, been sloppy, during the campaign. Some of the rebels had gotten away, because Obi-Wan would grant him no peace, had him spinning out of control.

Well. He fully intended to regain his control of this entire situation. Of Obi-Wan. Of his thoughts. He opened the windows to the lava flow below, all the way, wanting the convective heat to blow in around him, wanting the charred air to fill his lungs. He stood before the window, his hands clenched at his back, feeling just as full of fire and upheavals as the volcano, so far below.

He did not turn to look, when the door opened.

“I see you’ve redecorated, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, his voice strange. Hoarse. Quiet, only barely over a whisper. Infuriating as his words.

Anakin spun on his heel, snarling, feeling the hot air lift and tug at his cloak as he spat, “I’ve indulged your impertinence long enough, old man. You will call me by my proper title.”

Obi-Wan stared at him, blue eyes unblinking and faded. There were dark bruises under his eyes. His cheeks cut sharp, especially without any beard to hide them. Troopers held his arms. 2224 gripped the chain at his neck. And yet, still, Obi-Wan stood with his back straight and his shoulders back, his head high, as though--

As though he had any right to dignity. 

Obi-Wan said, staring right at him, his voice quiet and raspier than Anakin had ever heard it, “I will call you by your name. It doesn’t matter what you do, you cannot avoid who you are. Anakin.”

Something hot and pure as lightning ran down the back of Vader’s back, dug teeth into him and spread through his gut. He could not allow Obi-Wan to keep mocking him in his own place of power. He could not allow Obi-Wan to have this hold on his dreams, to hurt him, somehow. He took a step forward, growling, “I am Lord Vader. Anakin is dead.”

That weak failure of a boy was gone. He’d burned down in the lava flows. All that had remained was the core of Vader, strong enough to do what needed done, to herald the galaxy towards order and peace. 

Across from him, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, managing to look supremely unimpressed, chained and bound and otherwise naked, utterly at Vader’s mercy - he’d proved that over and over - and still refusing to acknowledge his utter defeat. 

But why would he, Vader thought, sharply. He’d obviously done something. Struck out at Vader’s mind. Planted nightmares there, left him dry heaving as he woke up, plagued with - with the ghosts of guilt and regret and--

And he had no room for those weak emotions in his life. He would burn them out, destroy them in the fire. Destroy Obi-Wan in the same fire, if required. If he would not be remade into an appropriate shape. He considered the plans he’d made, during the campaign, breathing hard, hesitating for just a moment as he said, “I give you one last chance. Kneel and greet me properly.”

Obi-Wan drew in a little breath, scowled, found some way to straighten his spine yet further and said, “You are Anakin Skywalker and you will never--”

Vader activated the collar and watched him fall, watched him spasm across the ground, watched him struggle for breath, when the pain stopped. “I tried to be reasonable with you,” he said, the heat of Mustafar curling around him, the heat of his rage kindled within him. “Remember that. But, obviously, you require a firmer hand. You will call me Vader, before we leave this room.”

Obi-Wan said nothing, rocking himself up onto his knees, blood dripping from his nose, splatters of it across the ground. “I will never,” he rasped, mouth quirking, infuriating.

Vader exhaled, harshly. His hands clenched and his gut burned with anger, fury that Obi-Wan would push him to this, would not just accept-- “You’ve brought this on yourself,” he said, “and so I’ll let you stop it, at any time. Call me my proper name, and you may return to your cell.”

“I--”

“I don’t let my men enjoy themselves nearly enough,” Vader barked, talking over Obi-Wan. He could guess what Obi-Wan had to say, anyway. “2224,” and, oh, he liked the way just saying the numbers made Obi-Wan suck in a breath, something in his posture stiffening. “I need your assistance.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Obi-Wan said, pushing to his feet and swaying once he got there, and for a moment Vader just stared at him. There was something darkly amusing about Obi-Wan trying to step in front of 2224, trying to protect an empty vessel. Especially considering what Vader planned. “Anakin, leave him--”

“The prisoner is being disruptive. Pacify him.” Vader enjoyed the brief flash of despair across Obi-Wan’s expression, the swell of it through the Force. Obi-Wan turned, looking towards 2224, just in time to take a blow across the jaw. He made a sound, low and stunned, covered by the impact of a fist into his gut.

“Wait--” Obi-Wan panted, words cut off when 2224 kicked his knee out, sending him down. 2224 was moving jerkily. Hesitating before each blow. Malfunctioning again. “No, this isn’t--”

Vader watched and listened, respiration increasing, as Obi-Wan tried to curl away from the blows, as 2224 followed him down, pulling him around, blows landing over and over and still Obi-Wan made no move to beg, to listen to instruction, to--

Well. Vader had known he’d likely require… further convincing. He grimaced.

“2224, you’re programmed to recreate,” Vader said, the words tasting like ash. “Aren’t you? Under Order 312.” Sidious had insisted that such actions could assist with appropriately subduing an entrenched populace. Vader had seen it work, on Ryloth. He could remember the way the insurgents there had screamed. Cried. Wept--

2224 stopped, froze in place, one fist drawn back still, black glove wet with blood, hand shaking. It was a broken damn thing, unable to process a question and continue a simple task. Vader scowled. He’d have disposed of the model already, if merely seeing 2224’s ugly, scarred face didn’t make Obi-Wan’s emotions twist, every time.

“What’s Order 312?” Obi-Wan panted, voice thick with pain, but neither of them answered.

“Yes, Lord Vader,” 2224 said, after a long beat for processing, with less emotion than a droid, expression utterly and completely blank. Still, Vader could not help but notice that its index finger was twitching, jerkily, and for no apparent reason. There was a smear of blood, under its nose.

Defective.

Perhaps Vader would have to make Obi-Wan watch as it was decommissioned. Permanently.

The thought held no small measure of appeal. But it could wait. At least a little while. He knew, very well, how his old master had felt about 2224. Before. He worked his jaw, once, twice, and then said, “Execute Order 312 on the prisoner.”

“What’s--” Obi-Wan started again, words cutting off when 2224 grabbed him. “Cody?” he said, sounding confused, feeling lost in the Force. There was a sharp little thrill of hope through him, at every touch of 2224’s hands, and Vader felt his lips pull back from his teeth.

He’d put that hope out, every single spark of it. 

Obi-Wan jerked as 2224 gripped his shoulders, shoving him over onto his stomach. Vader watched Obi-Wan’s chin hit the floor, heard him make a sound, felt his spreading alarm. “No,” he panted, struggling in earnest, and Obi-Wan was strong, had always been strong, even without the Force, but… his arms were bound, he’d just been beaten, viciously.

And Vader was almost certain the troopers had always been stronger.

“Stop! Don’t--Cody!” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked, as 2224 put a hand on the side of his head and pressed down, its other hand pulling robotically at its armor. “Please,” Obi-Wan gasped, voice failing with another crack, and, oh, he was shaking, Vader noticed, shaking all over, his eyes gone white all the way around, breath sharp and choppy. “Cody, don’t!”

2224 hesitated. Froze into place. Vader scowled and snapped, “I gave you an order! Carry it out!” And Obi-Wan cried out, sharp, ragged, when 2224 pushed into him, without a word, without a single move towards kindness. Vader watched, stared, unwilling even to blink, waiting for Obi-Wan to give in. Waiting for him to break. Waiting--

He made an awful, guttural sound, when 2224 bottomed out, still pressing Obi-Wan’s face down, its other hand gripping at Obi-Wan’s hip, that index finger still tapping, endlessly, even as it set a fast, brutal pace. And Obi-Wan didn’t beg. Didn’t break. Instead, he gasped, “It’s not you. It’s not you -- it’s--this isn’t--”

“Is this what it was like?” Vader asked, making himself watch. How often had he wondered, over the course of the war? How many times had he imagined his high and mighty master, bent over and fucked, taken. It had irritated him, at the time, that Obi-Wan would let someone else touch him, that he’d spread his legs and beg, when he hadn’t wanted Anakin. It had left him hard and aching, back then.

It still did, he found, cock twitching beneath his suit as he watched and listened.

Obi-Wan had never handled himself properly. Never realized what was good for him. Vader snarled, listening to the sounds Obi-Wan made, gutted and soft. Wet. Refusing to answer.

“Have you missed this?” Vader demanded, taking a step forward, listening to 2224 pant like an animal, just rutting mindlessly into a warm body, still with no expression on its face, the white of its left eye staining red. Perhaps that was what it had always been like, Vader could imagine that. Vader spat, “I suppose 2224 deserves permission to have you like this whenever it likes, that’s what you let it have before, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth worked, soundlessly. Resisting, even still.

Vader went to one knee, watching, and snapped, “Answer me!”

Obi-Wan spat towards him, instead of saying anything, salvia pinkish with blood, splattering across his boot, expression twisted up as, behind him, 2224 made the smallest sound and stilled. Just… stopped moving, completely, the task finished.

“Go clean yourself up, Cody,” Vader ordered, eyes on Obi-Wan as 2224 pulled out of him, taking in the flash of pain across his expression. He collapsed sideways as 2224 rose, laying there, sprawled across the floor, exposed and bloody already, drawing his legs up, hunching around them.

Vader swallowed, harshly, and said, bile in his mouth, “Say my name.”

Obi-Wan laughed. It was a terrible, cracking sound. His eyes barely focused when he said, in a hoarse whisper, through a crooked smile, “Anakin Skywa--”

Vader activated the collar, for just a moment, white-hot rage moving through him, and gripped at Obi-Wan’s shoulders, shoving him flat onto the ground. He felt the way Obi-Wan jerked and jumped, beneath him, noticed the slickness of blood and spend, and -- and refused to hesitate.

Obi-Wan wasn’t moving, by the time he finished. Vader stood, feeling strangely shaky, split open inside, and looked down at the limp body. Obi-Wan was just… staring forward, breath shaky and hitching. Vader was sweating, heavily, under his suit. He could smell the stink of himself, and hated it, one more thing caused by Obi-Wan.

He stumbled back a step, but there was no one to see but the troopers. And they did not care. He said, turning away, “Take him away.” He added, as he heard them dragging Obi-Wan towards the doors, “To the med-droids. But tell all the troopers to enjoy themselves. After all, one of you is the same as all the rest.”

And, perhaps, that would be enough to teach Obi-Wan his place.

His mouth tasted of ash. He swallowed it down into his gut.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit

Summary: As a rule, Vader did not really do anything with his social media account, but then the rant of some kid from Tatooine about the inefficiency of TIE Fighters began trending, the pilots and engineers on the Devastator started fixing their ships and Vader got invested.

AN: This fanfic is almost 7.000 words long do yourself a favor and go read it on AO3.

X

“Why are all the engineers tearing through the ships?” Vader asked the officer in charge.

Truthfully, they hadn’t been sent on a campaign lately, but the Emperor liked to whimsically assign Vader and his ship to pointless random battles, so they always had to be prepared to head into combat and couldn’t afford all their Fighters to be in repair. Frankly speaking, most of the TIEs never saw any repairs. They were just scrapped and demolished. He supposed he should be glad his mechanics had enough sense not to start working on all ships simultaneously.

“They are fixing the life support and shielding of the TIEs, my Lord.”

The what.

“The TIE-Fighters don’t have deflector shielding,” Vader stated.

The Head Engineer nodded nervously and stood up straight. Vader hadn’t picked them for nothing. Their predecessor had been a weak sucker-up who had seen it fit to either doesn’t inform Vader about crucial decisions and changes or had bothered him about every little detail. This new one knew how to do their job or at least it had seemed like it up until now.

“We are aware, my Lord. But there was this video explaining how to easily make some changes to the TIEs and I saw it fit to ensure we reduce our damages,” they replied.

“What video?”

The Head Engineer fetched a datapad from the nearest table and searched through a couple files until they opened one, revealing a video. It appeared to have been posted on the holonet one and a half weeks ago and already had an impress number of views and comments. The entire video was several hours long, and had gained a few Reaction Videos as well.

The thumbnail showed a blonde boy, roughly fifteen if Vader were to guess, wearing a half undone overall and a tank top, standing next to a slightly older boy and an assassination droid, a severely damaged TIE-Fighter lying in the sands behind them.

Vader hit play.

The video started, showing the blond boy of before sitting in a makeshift workshop, a pair of goggles lying around his neck.

“Welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting,” the teenager in the video said. He took a sip of water from the metallic canteen he was holding, drinking slow and carefully the way only a desert dweller did. “A couple weeks ago some sleemo commented that I’d never be able to improve any Imperial ships since I’m just Outer Rim trash.”

The boy took another sip, then set his canteen aside to reach for some parts that looked like they belonged to a half-finished droid.

“And I suppose you did have a point that the things I fix won’t ever reach the level of an Imperial TIE because I wouldn’t build such trash in the first place.”

The teenager’s face was fairly blank, but laughter could be heard coming from whoever was behind the camera, likely the other boy.

“So, to prove that I can do better, I sold a lot of speeders, ships and droids, repaired more terrible freighters than I can count, won several totally legal races and placed a couple of very fortunate bets in the palace of Jabba.”

The boy paused, then he smiled widely and, together with his cameraman, yelled “Boonta Eve Classic Champions!”

When he was done laughing, the boy continued talking. “Anyway, the point is, I made a lot of money to buy a lot of trash.”

The screen turned black and when it returned, it showed the image depicted in the thumbnail. The blond boy climbed on top of the TIE and smiled victoriously.

“So in today’s episode, I’m not only going to prove all you disbelievers wrong, I’m also going to drag the entire Tie-Fighter Program through the sarlacc pit. I’m Luke, the man recording is Biggs, my helper over there is HK-77 and this is Scrap Hunting.”

The first few notes of a song start playing and the channel’s logo, two suns overlaid by a speeder, showed up. The Head Engineer proceeded to stop the video, the screen frozen on the image of the boy grinning mischievously.

“He proceeds to begin to completely overhaul the damaged TIE he bought with alarmingly low cost and high efficiency within a few hours and, frankly speaking, embarrasses me. Some of the things Luke does never occurred to me and it should have, I went to one of Coruscant’s best universities-“

They sighed and put the datapad down. “Either way, we are now making changes to our TIEs. I apologize for not having informed you before, my Lord, but I assumed you’d approve of our Fighters being the most advanced on the field.”

The Head Engineer didn’t look like they regretted their decision, but they had obviously resigned themselves to whatever Vader decided their fate would be. They were loyal to Vader and his command. Vader needed people like them on his crew, not more of the Emperor’s spies.

“You presumed correctly,” Vader said. “Finish outfitting the TIEs you already began taking apart. I will watch the video of this Luke and see what exactly he has to say about the military.”

The Head Engineer saluted. “Yes, Sir! I won’t disappoint you!” Then they turned around and marched over to where the others had stopped working to watch their exchange and told them to get back to work.

Vader, meanwhile, took the datapad and returned to his own rooms. He had a video to watch.

X

Luke had not planned on becoming famous with a video titled Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit. In fact, he had never expected any of his videos to gain the kind of following and attention they had even before that particular one. In all honesty, it had just started with him making a recording of how he fixed vaporators without taking them apart completely so his friend Biggs could do it as well. He’d just posted that on the net and kept going. First about droids, some more rambles about ships and a while back he’d finally been allowed to go to the shipyards on his own to earn some extra cash.

But then he had found HK-77 in a dumping ground. The droid had been severely damaged, but not so much that Luke couldn’t fix it. Assassin droids were intelligent, much more than any other ones and Luke could honestly use some extra hands around the farm and when he was repairing speeders. Biggs had recorded bits of Luke working on the droid, cut it together and uploaded it and people had loved it. His videos got more clicks, he got more subscriptions and here he was now.

Usually, Luke didn’t let comments get to him, but one obviously core-world spoiled bastard had discredited Luke’s skills without having any idea how terrible the Empire’s priced Fighters actually were.

“C’mon,” Biggs said, throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “One last project before I leave for the Academy.”

Luke had also been trying his best to avoid thinking about how much he was going to miss his best friend. He wanted to leave with him – though not to be a common TIE-Fighter pilot, Luke wasn’t suicidal – but he couldn’t leave his family behind when they needed him.

“Alright,” Luke agreed, blushing. “Where are we going to get a TIE, though?”

Turned out that a TIE had crashed a while back and a junk dealer had picked it up. Unfortunately, despite its terrible damages, it was really expensive and Luke didn’t have that kind of money. It took a lot of work to scrap it all together – and he had been grounded for a month after winning the Boonta Eve Classic, but being the second human to ever win after Anakin Skywalker, his own father, had been worth it – but in the end Biggs and Luke had poured their funds together and bought the TIE.

And then the fun had started.

X

Vader sat down at his desk and pulled up the video again. He skipped to the moment the Head Engineer had stopped the video and hit play.

“Okay, first things first,” Luke said. “TIE’s were not made to be repaired. How do I know?”

Luke crawled into the pilot’s seat and opened the panels beneath it. “Because this is where the Empire would store the hyperdrive navigational systems, theft prevention protocols and life support, if the TIEs had any!”

He disappeared beneath the panels and began taking out the machinery, handing it to the HK-77 droid. Tatooine’s junkyards had always been a treasure chest, but finding C-3PO there had been astonishing. An assassination droid was worth much more than a mere protocol droid. Vader would have to check if the boy talked about how he’d acquired it somewhere.

“What kind of moron designs a ship that doesn’t have that?” Luke spoke up, his voice echoing. “I know who. They’re called Sienar Fleet Systems and go back to the Clone Wars.”

Luke stood up, and placatingly held up his hands. “I know, the Empire also made some pretty cool ships. I won’t lie, I’d kill to get my hands on the schematics on the Devastator, but the security of Kuat Drive Yards is too good.”

Luke paused.

“Not that I’d ever attempt to get a better look on them.”

The video zoomed in on Luke’s face and his frankly speaking terrible poker face in what was supposed be a comedic shot. Not many people would have the guts to admit they’d attempted to slice into KDY’s security and Vader doubted it was idiocy on the boy’s part. The youth was interesting and it became apparent rather quickly that he knew what he was talking about. He would certainly make a good asset to Vader’s crew, should he sign up.

“Point is,” Luke continued. “They cut all these extra measures out to lose weight and mass produce these TIEs with the lowest costs possible. However, even out here on Tatooine we’ve got ships with really small and efficient support systems, so I’ll dig through this mess down here and make some space for life support first.”

Luke then pointed on the rather large box standing next to him. “All I need for that is in this box. I uploaded the schematics to my usual server. It’s free to download, but I’d be very thankful if you could leave me a tip because I am broke until I’ve gotten this project done.”

Vader only skimmed through the next hours as Luke was working on taking the TIE’s insides apart. He explained what he was doing more or less coherently. It was clear he was lacking some of the terminological knowledge needed to describe the precise measures he took, but he was a rather efficient worker.

“Not sure yet if I can get my hands on a hyperdrive that won’t blow up on me, but we’ll see,” Luke said during the last minute of the video. “Theft prevention, however, I can work with.”

The video cut again and by now only the last beams of sunlight were illuminating the sands.

“Check this,” Luke said and pulled back his arm, a hydrospanner in hand, and threw it at full strength at the outer shell of the TIE. Upon impact, the TIE began blaring alarms.

“Nailed it,” Luke declared confidently while the HK-77 next to him gave him a thumbs up and presumably his friend behind the camera, held his thumb up in front of the recording as well.

“And this concludes part one of-“ Luke began to speak, only to be interrupted by a man’s shout.

“LUKE SKY-“

“Oh, shit,” Luke muttered, eyes wide. “Stop recording, Biggs, stop-“

The video ended and a couple of suggestions popped up, all with equally unserious titles such as ‘Killing it with a Murderbot’, ‘Repairing a hyperdrive but your arm is broken and All Stars is playing’ and ‘Garbage Summary of Republic/Imperial Ships’. The most recent upload was titled ‘Status Update: Scrap Hunters vs. Guardians.’

Vader decided to play it.

X

The channel’s introduction started to play against and soon after there was a recording of the black-haired boy playing.

“Hello, fellow Hunters,” the young man said, smiling widely. “I’m Biggs and unfortunately, I have to do today’s video by myself.”

He closed his eyes and in fake serenity added, “I hope you’ll enjoy it despite the lack of our overly bright mechanic and resident murderbot. Don’t worry, I know you’re all not actually watching this for me.”

Biggs sat still as writing appeared in the upper corner. I’m also just here for Luke. Hit me up at @darkestlight if you feel like it.

“Anyway,” Biggs continued and the writing disappeared. “This short video is just an update on our current situation. First of all, we’re super happy to see that so many people enjoyed our newest video. The next parts will be uploaded as soon as we can get our hands on the items we need, which might take a while given that Luke has been grounded from working on the TIE for the foreseeable future. If you have any questions for him though, feel free to drop him a message @skyseekerpilot, he’s still got access to the holonet.”

From out of the camera’s reach, he pulled a piece of flimsi, showing off the account’s name and a small doodle of what Vader assumed was meant to be Luke.

“Written by yours truly,” Biggs said and set the flimsi aside. “We’re thinking of doing a Q&A in the near future to bridge the time between the actual next update. Feel free to send us any kind of question! That being said, don’t miss us too much!”

The video stopped and Vader almost found himself being disappointed. The youth had certainly talked a lot about unimportant things, it was clear that he was a mere aid to Luke. Perhaps contacting the boy about his ideas would be worth it.

X

Luke was bored out of his mind. Honestly, he hated being grounded. Nothing new to tinker with, only work and endless hours of chores and browsing the holonet. He supposed he could work a little more on his schematics, but he didn’t really feel like it. Sitting down and actually sketching what he was thinking was always the most difficult part of the process. Most of the time, Luke just knew and could figure out what he had to fix. He worked by instinct alone, but that didn’t really help others so he had to write things down properly.

Annoyed, Luke flopped down on his bed again. He hoped that Biggs at least would be allowed to come over again soon. It was just so boring without anyone around.

“I could get rid of the problem,” HK-77 offered from where it was sitting in the corner.

“No, thank you, Hagekay,” Luke replied. “I guess I’ll just check the ‘net again.”

He took out his datapad and began skimming his usual sites. He watched the video Biggs had uploaded and looked a little though all the comments they’d already gotten. Their channel had really blown up in the past days and a lot of people seemed quite eager about the possibility of a Q&A, already shooting off questions. Luke switched over to his page and saw a steady amount of questions and comments come in. A lot of them were rather personal, but one caught his attention.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick asked:

You pay a great deal of attention to enhancing the pilot’s safety and protection in the events of a crash, but how do you intend to make up for the lesser maneuverability? The added weight will lower the TIE’s speed to 1,112 KPH and in actual combat, the added speed is necessary. If one considers the lack of deflector shields, the TIE becomes much more vulnerable, to a degree that even your additions will not work. I’d like to hear your suggestions as to how you would solve that problem.

Reading the message, Luke began to smile widely. Fighterfan had obviously sat down to do the proper math. Luke, admittedly, had only done some rough calculations but his result had been almost the same and he’d immediately began searching or results.

Easy, he wrote back, grinning like a madman. I add deflector shields and modify a hyperdrive of the Interio Class. ;)

Luke knew that his holonet connection wasn’t exactly the best. There was a reason Biggs was the one who uploaded their content. Sometimes, especially before, during and after sandstorms, Luke could forget doing anything with his datapad. So when he got a reply barely thirty minutes later, he knew that the other person must have replied immediately.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

The Interio Class hyperdrives are slow at best and do not work at all at worst. I take it you intend to break it down so far that it cannot actually do a hyperspace jump but still accelerates much faster than any other engine?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

Exactly!!! :D Should push the speed back up to 1,200 KPH despite the added weight! I’d also suggest changing the wings to bent-wing solar arrays, but I don’t have the materials for that right now :/

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

While the flight controls were designed to be intuitive and easy to learn, very few people would be skilled enough to fly a ship with the modifications you are proposing.

Luke smirked. It would be dangerous indeed, but he’d be able to make it. He’d stretch out his senses, feel the vast expanses of space around him, the million planets and stars and he’d rush right past them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

I could. :)

X

Vader hadn’t been sure what to expect of his conversation with Luke. The boy certainly proved that he was bright and clever. Not just intelligent, he knew exactly what his modifications would do to the TIE- Fighter. Despite his excessive need to tag emojis onto his every message and add exclamation marks, actually talking about ships to somebody who couldn’t care less about Imperial regulations was almost enjoyable. The boy’s suggestions were refreshing and unorthodox and a few of them even puzzled Vader for a moment until he was able to follow Luke’s train of thought.

Soon he found himself looking forward to the boy’s messages, even if he couldn’t bring himself to care particularly much about the daily life of a teenage moisture farmer. Unfortunately, he had to admit that he was almost a little annoyed Luke was still a child and therefore couldn’t accept a job offer. Well, Vader would simply have to wait a little longer to get his hands on his next Head Engineer. Until then, messaging him while pretending to listen to some Moffs blab away about the Death Star yet again, would have to suffice.

He had learned nothing but patience in the past years.

X

“Welcome back to Scrap Hunting!” Luke announced excitedly. “As you can see, I have returned to the land of the living!”

“He’s still grounded,” Biggs said next to him. “I’m just allowed to visit now.”

Luke rolled his eyes and lightheartedly punched his friend into his side. “Don’t make fun of me. I was incredibly lonely.”

Biggs smiled and messed up Luke’s hair in return. “Sure, whatever you say. Anyway! We collected a lot of comments in the meanwhile and decided to do the promised Q&A about ourselves. Luke, if you’d do the honors to read the first question.”

“Sure!”

Luke reached for the datapad in front of them and started it up. He spent a few moments scrolling through it, then stopped and began to read out loud. “For Biggs: In the video repairing Hagekay you said that it keeps threatening you. Does it still do that?”

“All the time,” Biggs replied seriously. He raised his hands in a what-can-you-do kind of way and then dropped them again with a sigh. “Literally. I don’t think this droid likes anyone but Luke and the mouse droid keeping the house clean.”

Biggs frowned and looked around as if he were searching for something. “Where is Emmy? It always seems so eager to clean up after me.”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe got lost in Aunt Beru’s closet again, wouldn’t be the first time. Alright, you do the next question.”

Biggs took the datapad from him and moved on to the next inquiry.

“What the kriff is your title song?” Biggs read, then groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Just let it die please.”

Luke on the other hand immediately jumped up in excitement. “Oh! It’s every fifth note of my favorite song so it doesn’t get taken down for copyright reason. I’ll put a link in the description.”

“Question #3: Where do you live?” Luke stared straight ahead into the camera. “Tatooine, Outer Rim desert world. Do not recommend unless you can survive without a lot of water.”

Beside him, Biggs nodded. “Indeed, not the best place to raise your children. Question number four: Could you upload Hagekay’s original programming?”

The two boys looked at each other and finally shook their heads while staring suspiciously at the camera again. “What could you possibly need the programming of an assassin droid for?”

“Next up: How old are you? And how long have you been working on projects like this?”

Luke frowned and turned to Biggs. “Didn’t we say that before once?”

Biggs only shrugged. “No idea, you talk a lot when you’re working.”

“You love to hear me talk,” Luke replied teasingly. “Well, I’m seventeen and Biggs is nineteen. I’ve been doing repairs on droids for as long as I can think. Speeders and ships are new additions.”

“Same for me,” Biggs said. “You can’t grow up in the middle of nowhere running a moisture farm and not be at least a half-decent mechanic. Okay, next question: What was your favorite project so far? Hmm, I think I enjoyed ‘Hagekay vs Emmy with a viroblade’ the most. You?”

Luke chewed on his lip and paused, deeply lost in thought.

“The TIE-Fighter,” he said eventually. “Even if I wasn’t so sure about it at first. That reminds me! I don’t know how many of you have seen the bits of the conversation that aren’t private, but you should seriously check out Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick. The ship modifications he speaks of are the best and a couple of them will definitely end up in the TIE, credit given, of course. When we’re done with this video, I’ll go right back to replying to your thoughts about navigation systems because I totally agree-“

“Alright, alright,” Biggs interrupted, clasping his hand over Luke’s mouth. “Nerd out with your new best friend somewhere I don’t have to see it.”

Luke huffed and, going by the way Biggs quickly pulled his hand away from his mouth and wiped it on his shirt saying “ewww”, had licked it.

“What are you? Five?” Biggs complained.

Luke laughed. “Compared to your mature six? Alright, next question-“

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about a way to solve the take-off issue yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Noooooo (TT^TT). It’s so stupid, why does anyone design a ship that lacks landing gear? I mean, I get it, these were built for space combat but it just seemed unnecessary that you need an extra start up. What do you do when somebody crashed on a planet? Leave them there????

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. TIEs are viewed as expendable, due to their cheap production costs, as are their pilots. The Empire prefers quantity over quality.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That just seems incredibly short-sighted. What kind of person doesn’t go back to save their friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are wrongly presuming that TIE-Fighter pilots have friends.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

So you don’t have any friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh gosh I’m SO SORRY! I didn’t mean that, I just wanted to ask whether you were TIE pilot bc you seem to know the ships so well and I didn’t want to be rude

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I’m sorry!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Super sorry!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Honestly, I didn’t mean to insult you. I apologize, I shouldn’t have said that.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. I was stuck in a briefing and couldn’t reply. You mustn’t worry. I do not have any friends, nor do I want them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh, I’m glad I didn’t scare you off and I’m sorry for overreacting. But you really don’t have any friends? Doesn’t that get lonely? Biggs has been gone barely a couple weeks and I’m already going crazy. I miss him a lot.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are too dependent on him, Luke. You do not need him.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I do! He always had my back, ever since we were small. And even if you don’t want any friends, you can be sure that I will consider you mine. No expectations of course! But I really enjoy talking to you and I have learned so much since we started talking!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have also found our talks to be pleasant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yay!!!!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You wanted to ask me whether I am a TIE-Fighter pilot. I own a TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

WHAT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

REALLY???? THAT’S SO COOL THEY ONLY STARTED MANUFACTURING THEM LAST YEAR. How fast does it accelerate? Are the stabilizers really that improved? No wait tell me about the hyperdrive which did they go with? Does it use a Class 4.0? I would have built in a Class 7.0 but they’re more expensive and hard to really stop correctly if you’re not like a great pilot ooOOOH WAIT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU are flying a TIE/AD!!!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU’RE ACTUALLY IN THE IMPERIAL NAVY. Which ship do you serve on??? Please, please, please tell me about the Destroyers I’ve been wanting to compare them to Republic ships since FOREVER but I couldn’t find any good sources pls I’ll pay in an extra special videos

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Give me a few hours.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU ARE THE BEST!

X

Vader could not fathom what was wrong with Luke. Nobody wanted to be friends with Darth Vader, certainly he had never given the boy the impression that he was interested in such a relationship? He had merely strived to see what the boy was capable of. He shouldn’t supply the boy with more in-depth plans to his ships and yet he found himself downloading the corresponding schematics. It had been a while since he had been able to carry on a conversation that was actually on his level and engaging as well. Luke was only improving and Vader wanted to keep him. Good personnel was hard to come by and Luke was something different entirely.

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have sent you the plans we talked about. Have you ever considered signing up for the Imperial Academy?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yes, but I can’t go this year because my uncle still needs me on the farm :/

 Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I am able to get you a contract as civilian consultant. You’d be able to work from home.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What? Is that really a thing?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

If you give me your personal data, I’ll send you a contract.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Thank you!! It’s Luke Lars! My ID is T-LL-2187-A23. Also, uploaded a new video for you :D Hope you enjoy my misadventures!

X

Luke was sitting on his bed, HK-77 standing beside him, holding out various tools while the mouse droid Emmy was sitting in his lap.

“Hello, everybody and welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting! Today is a special compilation dedicated too @thatsaneattrick, who basically gave me an early birthday present. So, sit back and enjoy a compilation of the things we usually cut from our videos! I’m Luke, my helper today is HK-77 and shout out to Biggs who is currently studying a couple of planets away from me!”

The video cut away to start showing the first in a series of rather short escapades featuring at least one member of the trio.

-

The first video showed Luke working on the TIE’s wings, singing underneath his breath. “This was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to be functional, functional at all.”

-

The next video depicted Luke working in the background while Biggs and HK-77 were staring intensely at each other, Emmy stuck between them, driving forwards and backwards like they were trying to keep the two from fighting.

“Where did you hide my hydrospanner.”

“I did no such thing, Biggs.”

The recording blurred as Biggs threw himself on HK-77.

-

It was dark. The camera slowly focused on Emmy attempting to drive up to the TIE fighter but getting stuck because of the sand. Two giggles could be heard.

“We have to help Emmy,” Luke whispered.

“Yes, wait- oh, Em’s gonna fall over-“

The video slowed down as Emmy tragically fell to its side and couldn’t get up again.

“It’s so kriffing clumsy, like a baby,” Biggs laughed.

“It’ll get there someday.”

In white writing, the message Hasn’t Happened Yet showed up.

-

“Luke, what are you?”

Luke sighed and looked downcast. “A good mechanic?”

“Then why is the TIE’s cockpit smoking?”

“I was just taking a look at the repulsorlift antigravity field- oh, kriff it’s burning.”

“What!?”

X

Ever since Biggs had left, Luke’s conversations with Fighter became the most fun part of his days. Sometimes, replies took a little longer depending on how busy and far away Fighter was, but their talks never failed to bring a smile to Luke’s face, no matter how standoffish Fighter acted.

Luke checked his messages again, hoping to catch a new message from Fighter. Sadly, none were in his inbox, only something from a stranger.

Lord Vader @ImperialCommand: Consultant Contract

Luke frowned.

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about my job offer yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Job offer? You were really serious about that? O.o

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Of course, did you not see the attachment I sent you?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I never got a message with a job offer, so I thought you were joking!!! The only thing I got was a message by some guy pretending to be Vader. Didn’t even bother to open that, who knows what kind of virus I could have caught. -.-‘

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Someone pretended to be Lord Vader? Surely nobody would actually be so ignorant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Idk! I had to go on his holo page and it seemed legit but there’s no way the emperor’s slaver would ever message me I’m not that naive

…

Fighter?

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You would do well not to spread such rebel propaganda anywhere others could find them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Rebel propaganda???

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Do you mean the ‘slaver’ thing?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That’s not propaganda, that’s what Vader is. I know your serve in the Navy, and probably met him once or so. I can’t judge what kind of superior he might be, but his behavior is that of a slaver.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What do you know of slavery, child?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I live on Tatooine, remember? Hutts control everything. And my father was a slave, that’s why I have to go by my uncle’s last name, least of all somebody thinks I’m a runaway just cause my father’s name was ‘Skywalker’.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What was your father’s name.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

His name was Anakin Skywalker, he died towards the end of the last war. Freed himself as a child and became a navigator on a spice freighter. I don’t know much more about him, my aunt and uncle only met him once for my grandmother’s funeral and that’s it. I’m sure he was a good man, though. I just know it.

X

The boy, Luke, was living Tatooine with his aunt and uncle. Vader had known his last name was Lars, had even seen him mention Owen and Beru multiple times, but he hadn’t made the connection-

Quickly, he pulled up the files he had made on the boy. It said in his documents that he had been adopted by Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun Lars, no mentioning of his biological parents anyway. Vader hadn’t paid any attention to it because it happened often enough on Tatooine. Newborns were smuggled bought out of the slave quarters so they’d get a better life. The boy could be lying, of course, but what would he seek to gain from this ploy?

Anakin Skywalker was dead and everything he had held dear had burned with him, his Master had seen to it.

But hadn’t the boy’s smile reminded him of his dear wife? His excitement for ships, his brilliance- Vader had assumed that some of his stories might have been exaggerated, but maybe he had performed all those death-defying stunts indeed and it was the Force which had saved him.

Luke Skywalker of Tatooine.

It was impossible to think that he had managed to find him through mere interest. The Force must have led him to his son.

His son.

His Master had lied to him, deceived and betrayed him.

Snarling, Vader left his rooms behind and marched towards his personal hanger. He had to go now, reach his son and protect him before the Emperor would diminish his light.  Vader would make them pay, all of them, every single person involved in keeping his child from him would be destroyed.

X

The past weeks had not been particularly interesting or happy for Luke. Ever since his discussion with Fighter, the other man had completely cut their communication. No matter how many messages Luke sent him, he didn’t reply.

He supposed he should have seen it coming. Fighter didn’t say much about his background, but if he was skilled enough to be trusted with a TIE/ad, he had likely grown up on some Imperial Core World, surrounded by the Empire and Vader’s image and didn’t see things the way some Outer Rim kid would. It was too bad that their conversation had stopped. Even if they couldn’t agree on the Empire’s policies, ships were still ships.

He’d miss talking to Fighter.

Luke dragged himself out of his room to go in the kitchen for lunch. He had halfway crossed the homestead when a man in a dark robe hurried down the steps.

“Luke!” He said and threw back his hood, revealing himself as Old Ben Kenobi.

“Oh, hi, Ben! Is everything alright?”

Ben shook his head and a pained expression crossed his face. He looked like he was in a hurry, but Luke could feel the fear lingering in the air.

“We need to go, now,” Ben said hurriedly. “Where are your aunt and uncle?”

“Aunt Beru went into the city and Uncle Owen is out working on the vaporators,” Luke replied slowly.

Ben’s behavior was confusing him. He’d known the older man since he could think. He had never said a thing, but Luke knew he was the one who had made a lot of the model ships now proudly displayed in his room and made sure the Tuskens stayed away from their homestead.

Ben was a nice and kind man, carrying a lot of grief. He was a little strange, but not mad. If he was worried about something, Luke figured he should as well.

“Then there is no time to get them,” Ben said and took Luke’s hand. “We must hurry.”

“Ben, what’s going on?” Luke asked and let himself be pulled along to the homestead’s entrance and out into the sun. “Why are we running?”

“We need to go before he’s here-“ Ben stopped abruptly and stared right ahead.

A black demon stood in some distance from the two of them. He looked like the monsters out of the stories Luke had been told as a child and now knew to be real. Lord Vader.

Ben let go of Luke’s hand and took a step forward, keeping Luke behind him.

“Kenobi.” Vader’s voice was deep, mechanic and artificial. “I have finally found you.”

“So you have, Darth,” Kenobi replied and ignited a lightsaber of a light blue color.

Vader followed suit, his blade an angry red and soon after they were clashing against one another, whirling up the sand. Luke hadn’t known Ben could fight like that, keep every move so fluent despite the ground he was standing on. He met each of Vader’s aggressive strikes with equal strength.

Luke felt like he was suffocating.

He had to stop them, he knew it. He didn’t know why or how, but if he didn’t do anything, the desert would swallow them up.

“What is going on!?” Luke shouted. The two fighters turned to him and it occurred to Luke only then that shouting mid-battle was probably not his smartest move, but what else was he supposed to do.

“You have been deceived all your life, young one,” Vader said. “Kenobi stole you from me, kept you hidden so you wouldn’t inherit your birthright.”

“My birthright,” Luke repeated. “I’m sorry, what are you even talking about.”

“Your father-“

“Was a good man,” Ben interrupted, his words as sharp as a knife. “And you ruined him.”

“You left me to burn!” Vader screamed. “You said you loved me and you left me behind for Sidious to take and remake as he wanted. You took my son from me and let him grow up on the Force-forsaken planet! You stole years from me, months of being unaware of who I was talking to.”

My son, the winds seemed to echo Vader’s words, dancing around Luke’s small frame. The weight behind them almost seemed to push him over.

“Father?” Luke realized. The wind roared in agreement, rushed through Luke’s mind as a barely comprehendible mess acknowledging an impossible truth.

X

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Going on a galactic roadtrip for the foreseeable future! :D

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

(Somebody please get me off this ship they keep glaring at each other it’s so awkward)

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Pros of having parents: You don’t have to pay for lunch Cons of having parents: Lunch is ration bars

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

If not for the laws of this galaxy I’d have a glowing sword to cut through durasteel with

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have adopted 4 more mouse droids to keep our ship clean!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I love discovering I have a godfather who is also a pirate while being held hostage by said godfather. 5/10 experience

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have the power of the Force and Hydrospanners on my side!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Turns out HK-77’s programming was not as thoroughly deleted as I thought. My bad.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

TIE-Fighters still suck. New video tomorrow together with @thatsaneatrick

X

“Hi!” The video showed a young blond man standing in what appeared to be a huge hanger. He was a little older than he had been in the last video uploaded on the channel.

Next to him sat an older man whose skin was as pale as ash. Many scars covered his face, the only part of his body that was actually visible. The rest was covered by dark robes. The third member of the group was another man with snow-white hair and beard. He sat in a safe distance from the ship behind the other two, reading through a datapad while drinking a cup of tea. All three of them carried lightsabers and it was practically impossible to ignore them.

“Welcome back to another episode of Scrap Hunting!” The blond continued. “I know, it’s been a year but I was pretty busy.”

He glanced at the man beside him and leaned slightly into his side, as if he were seeking comfort.

“Today we’re finally concluding our series ‘Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit’. Unfortunately, the original TIE-Fighter was lost, but Father crashes so many that we could easily start from scratch with a new one. The focus of this episode is finally adding the safety that prevents the twin ion engines from moving an energizer out of alignment so that the recharge systems won’t become ticking time bombs. Henceforth, we dedicate this episode to Darth Sidious, alias Emperor Palpatine. My name is Luke Skywalker. The man in the back is my Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi-“ The old man looked up from his datapad to wave at the camera and then continued on reading “-and my helper today is my Father.”

Luke paused and smiled softly while the scarred man put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. The gesture seemed almost a little possessive, would certainly be like it if the man’s touch weren’t as gentle as a feather.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker,” the man said, his blue eyes shining as brightly as Luke’s, but much colder in nature. “And I’m coming for you, Sidious.”

The video flashed black, then brightened again, depicting a round emblem of two wings settled around a sword.

[mithrilwren]

Ceremony

Wedding: You touch adult humanoids willing to be bonded together in marriage. For the next 7 days, each target gains a +2 bonus to AC while they are within 30 feet of each other. A creature can benefit from this rite again only if widowed.

Over the course of the Stolen Century, Barry and Lup shamelessly exploit a convenient magical loophole.

(Also on Ao3)

---

49.

Three months into the forty-ninth year, Barry turns to look at Lup. Her face is lit by the cascade of neon flashes from the frogs in the trees above, croaking their many-coloured song, and the air is cold on his tongue, and his hand is in hers as they walk through the night air. She notices him watching. She always does, and her eyes glint in amusement: purple and azure and green and gold.

“What’re you thinking?”

He takes a breath and says, “We’re going to get married, aren’t we?”

He says it not with nervous hesitation, but with the wonder of realization, like a child dazzled at their first snowfall. Lup’s smile is wicked, but the hand around his squeezes gently.

“Well, duh.”

And they do. Not that year, because Lup’s not having a wedding on the planet of radioactive frog slime, and Barry likes the evenness of 50 for an anniversary. It’s a nicer number than 49, at any rate. Some just are.

This world ends quietly. The Hunger comes and the whole crew, safe and sound aboard the Starblaster, watches from the bridge viewport as the neon lights that once sang amidst the blanket of leaves twinkle and then fade. Not even Taako, who’d spend the whole year cursing the frogs for disturbing his sleep, says a word.

None of them has ever seen silence fall before.

They all keep quiet, and still, and then they all fade too.

50.

The fiftieth year is spent planning. Lup tells Taako about their plan, and then Taako teases her about it in front of Magnus, who can’t contain his excitement long enough for damage control and suddenly the whole crew knows that this is the year they’re finally making it official, and they are pumped. Everyone is eager to sink into any strategizing endeavour that doesn’t involve thousands of lives, and preventing the destruction thereof.

Davenport and Magnus set to work chasing the light of creation on this new world, this fiftieth home – a vast oceania, with towns dotting the edges of the many archipelagos that make up the landmass of the planet. They find it easily enough in the rocky shoals of one of the smaller islands, before the locals can get too attached to the new meteorite in their bay. With that problem squared away, everyone’s attention is back on the wedding, and the first ever IPRE Party Planning Committee is brought to order.

Taako’s got the food on lock, because of course he does, but he also helps Lup pick a dress from one of the open-aired markets in town: a breezy lilac slip with golden threads that catch the highlights in her hair.

Lucretia gets all their paperwork in order in case they want to file properly when they get back to their own world or… well, in any case, it’s good to have a record. She’s also unofficially in charge of streamers, because nobody but her and Magnus are sufficiently inoculated towards slimy ocean creatures to spend their evenings weaving strands of shimmery seaweed into party decorations.

Davenport cozies up enough to the local mayor to score some fine liquor for toasts. He sneaks a few bottles extra into his quarters, for safekeeping.

Magnus works so hard. He spends every spare minute practicing his carving, getting ready for the main event. At first, he fills Fisher’s tank with progressively more detailed ducks – an attempt to sooth the loneliness of the now-orphaned child, as much as any other purpose. But soon he hides away in a little cave by the coast, only returning to the ship to retrieve more boughs from those he collected from the forests of the previous planet. He refuses to let anyone see what he’s making until it’s absolutely finished.

Merle… frets.

“I mean, you could just ask Davenport. I figure, since he’s the captain and all... Isn’t he, you know, vested with the powers that be?”

“We could,” Lup nods. “Or we could ask you. Like we just did.”

Merle rubs at the back of his neck, using every inch of height disparity to avoid looking at Lup and Barry’s eyes. “I’m not- are you really sure you want me doing this? Me?”

“Why not you?” Barry asks, genuinely curious.

“I know I’m like, a cleric...”

“Debatable!” chimes Taako from the other side of the wall, and Merle grits his teeth just a little harder.

“Not helping, dear brother mine!” Lup calls cheerfully, and shoots a subtle charm behind her back that stands the hair on Barry’s arm on end. Moments later, there’s a thud and a slew of curses, and Lup smiles. “You were saying?”

“I’ve honestly,” Merle lowers his voice in case Taako is still in earshot. “I’ve never done one of these before. It’s the type of thing they train you for when you’re fully initiated and I never got that far. There’s special words that you’re supposed to use to complete the bonding, and a spell, and I just… I don’t want to screw this up, ok?”

“Merle,” says Lup, bending at the waist till she’s on eye level with Merle’s flushed face. “There is nothing, nothing, that you could do on my wedding day that would make me happier than to completely fuck it up. Where’s the story in perfection? Where’s the pizzazz. Say the wrong words, blow something up! I live for uncertainty.”

“Please don’t actually blow anything up if you can help it, though-” Barry interjects.

“But if you do, I’ll be behind you, 100%. As I push you between me and any sparks that get too close to the bomb-ass dress Taako and I picked out.”

“Oh yes, I feel much better now,” Merle grumbles, but he also stops arguing, which means they’ve got the priest, which is really, the last thing they needed.

Lup and Barry get up one morning – a full two months before the Hunger’s arrival – and suddenly, it’s the day. Taako forces eggs and coffee down their throats, prescribing four hundred calories apiece before they’re allowed to get dressed. Merle picks wildflowers and lays them out in matching corsages on the breakfast table before rushing off to resume his muttered practicing. Davenport and Lucretia take them each aside and help them into their outfits, and Barry has never felt more nervous in his life than as he slips on the lightweight suit. Blue, to match the sea, and because he lives to meet expectations.

And then everyone else is outside, and they’re standing hand in hand, waiting to walk down from the open door of the ship, and Barry turns to look at Lup. “We’re getting married,” he manages to get out through his rapidly closing throat.

“Sure are, champ,” she says quietly.

It’s funny. He’d always figured he’d be the first one to cry.

Everyone’s waiting when they finally step through the door. Two thick streamers of seaweed form an aisle from the gangway to where Merle stands beneath Magnus’s project: a giant archway of hewn branches, twisting eagerly in an arc towards the sky. Whatever rough patches and nicks remain in the wood are covered by intertwining flowers, perfectly matched to the garlands around their wrists. On either side of the aisle, their friends sit cross-legged in the white sand: Taako and Davenport on one side, and Lucretia and Magnus on the other. Cradled in Magnus’s lap is Fisher, who hums cheerfully at the sunlight and the joy of living, probably.

They all end up sitting in the sand, even Merle, and it feels less like a ceremony than a congregation of friends sharing a lazy afternoon, and Barry wouldn’t have it any other way. Merle stumbles his way through his lines, but he manages all right in the end, or at least Barry assumes he does. He’s too busy staring at Lup to listen, committing every second of this perfect day to memory: her loose curls twisting in the breeze, her smudged mascara, her bare feet half-buried under the sand.

When he tunes back in, it’s to the last words of Merle’s benediction, and his chest swells with warmth and love and- that’s a little too much warmth, actually, and judging by the alarmed look on Lup’s face, she’s feeling the same strange glow in her chest.

“Well, shit,” Merle breathes. “It actually worked.” Before Barry can ask, he’s patting them both gleefully on the shoulder. “By the power invested in me, apparently, you’re now husband and wife! And also, you get a bonus week of Pan’s blessing – so now’s a good time to get into a boss fight I guess, if you’re itching for one.”

Barry doesn’t hear that last part too clearly. He’s too busy being shoved into the sand by his wife oh my god oh my god and kissed senseless.

Merle wasn’t lying about the blessing either. When they’re together, there’s this warmth of surety, like anyone or anything who tried to separate them would need a miracle to succeed. Magnus accidentally hucks a rock in Lup’s direction and it glances off her shoulder like a rubber ball. Barry stubs his toe on the edge of a reef and barely feels the sting. The warmth is strongest when they’re pressed against each other, every inch of them connected, and so they stay like that for three wonderful, magical days – never out of arm’s reach.

They go swimming, just the two of them, on the fourth day. Barry’s never been so pleased that Taako taught him as he is now. They’re just twirling together, treading water out past the dropoff, and the sky is growing dark when Lup says they might to head in, it’s getting chilly, darling, and then the hail starts to fall.

At first, there are only little pieces that ping in the water all around them, nipping at their bare shoulders like blackflies as they start to swim back. Then a great chunk of ice slams into the spot Barry’s outstretched hand was reaching towards. All around them a pounding rhythm picks up pace, and Lup starts muttering shit, shit as they double their speed. Through bleary, salt-drenched eyes Barry thinks he sees the shadow of a figure standing on the shore with arms outstretched, but he can’t hear what they’re calling over the wind and the waves and the relentless pounding in his ears. All he can hear is Lup and her desperate muttering as she tries to form a sigil in the air with the hand he isn’t desperately grasping, dragging along. With a cry, she sends a blast of force cascading out in a sphere around them, and for a moment, the roar of the sea and the storm disappear and it’s just the two of them in silence, clinging to each other-

And then red blooms behind Barry’s eyes and he’s sinking and with every foot he slips the water grows colder, or maybe it’s him that’s gone cold, without her. Or-

Or-

He wakes to find Lup already wrapped around him on the Starblaster deck, and the supernatural warmth of Pan’s blessing is gone but she’s safe and he’s alive and the press of her arms is enough for him any day.

She murmurs hoarsely, words meant only for his ears, and he can tell she’s crying even without seeing her face. “These last months, Barry… god, I missed you so much, you can’t even know-” He squeezes her shoulders and she sighs, before lifting her head and declaring to the room of equally tearful onlookers,

“This man had the nerve to fucking leave me in the middle of our honeymoon? That’s it, Barry Bluejeans.” Her smile is wet and determined and beautiful.

“I demand a do-over.”

51.

For Lup, the announcement is mostly a joke, but then everyone is… kind of on board and she… kind of very much wants them to be.

She got her perfect fairytale wedding once, and she doesn’t want – doesn’t need – to replace that, but to lose her husband three days after getting him? She’s imagined some pretty bleak futures in her time, and even the worst of them didn’t tip the scale to quite that depressing. They may have all eternity to cycle. Might as well try for the perfect fairytale honeymoon too.

The second wedding is a more rushed affair. The new planet comes with warring factions and a power struggle and the Light lost somewhere in the fray of muddy battlegrounds, and it takes all of their combined efforts to retrieve the thing before one despot or another can get their hands on it. By the time they do, they’ve got less than a month till the Hunger comes, and most of the crew are footsore and weary from the last push. In fact, Lup’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen at all. She doesn’t bring it up – no use adding one more mission to the pile – but it pulls at parts of her that she’d thought she buried, the memories of lonesome nights spent wondering if there was any happiness in the world that couldn’t be taken away.  

Against all expectations, the one who brings it up is Merle.

He comes and knocks at their door and she answers, and waits patiently for him to stop shuffling his feet. Which is to say, she patiently says, “Spit it the fuck out, Merle.”

“Well, uh, what day were you wantin’ the wedding to be? Now that we’ve got this whole situation under wraps, I thought you’d-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish the thought with his head smothered in Lup’s shirt as she pulls him into a tight hug.

The roles are different now, but maybe they all are too. The years go by quicker, and they all seem a little older with each cycle, though their bodies stay the same. Lup likes to think the change is for the better.

Davenport finds a copse of trees somehow spared the ravages of war and they set down there, working to clear the area as quickly as possible. He coordinates decorations, not refugees, and his shoulders untense for the first time in six months.

Magnus apologizes for leaving the arch behind on the last world. The apology is for Barry’s benefit, not Lup’s, because Barry doesn’t need to know that no matter how hard Magnus had worked on it, and how much she wanted to spare his feelings, Lup couldn’t bear the sight of that arch after the night of the storm. She’s not sure what he did with his creation after she told him, but she never saw it again. Maybe it’s lying at the bottom of the same ocean that Barry- nope. That’s not a thought that needs to happen.

Taako hangs fairy lights from the eaves with his wand, and they all settle in on the newly-swept ground. The world around them couldn’t be more different than a seaside paradise, but they’re all still a congregation of friends. Merle is more comfortable this time around, even injecting a couple jokes into the stuffy liturgy, and though the overwhelming exhilaration of the first wedding is dampened, there’s an ease to the affair that’s new and welcome.  

Merle places his hands on their shoulders again and says, “By the power invested in me, blah blah, you know the drill-” He startles backwards, grey eyebrows flying up into his hairline as a familiar warmth settles back into Lup’s chest. She cocks her head.

“What’s up?”

He blinks. “It’s just… the spell. The blessing from Pan. It’s a one-time-per-couple deal. You’re not supposed to be able to place it twice on the same people, not unless…”

“Go on,” she says, as he greens, suddenly cagey.

“Well, there’s a clause in the case of… if someone is widowed. Then they can get it again. Usually that means with another person though-”

“I think our whole existence is an affront to the natural order. Let’s not sweat the technicalities.” And she pulls Barry in for a kiss, because he’s her husband, and because she can.

They barely leave their room for the next week. Lup won’t admit to being afraid of the moment shattering again, and Barry is similarly reticent, and so they talk about everything else in the world except death. Barry learns a bit more about Lup and Taako’s childhood, and he tells her about the cat he rescued from a garbage can near his university, and they read, and make love, and sleep, and wake up to find the other still there. The rest of the crew give their cabin a wide berth.

It’s not quite a fairytale, but it’s nice. And that’s more than good enough.

On the evening of the seventh day, Lup is lazily drawing patterns on a sleeping Barry’s shoulder when she feels the warmth in her chest begin to ebb. She digs her nails in and shakes, heart beating too fast all at once because no, this can’t be happening, it can’t, not again, until Barry flips over with a yawn and she regains control of her lungs.

“What’s up?” he asks, and then his eyes widen, hand going to his own chest. “Guess that’s that.”

“End of the honeymoon,” she says faintly. Her chest is cold, like swallowed seawater.

“Time to rejoin the world of the living?”

“…Nah,” she says, and burrows her head back into his shoulder. His heart thuds against her ear with a gentle pulse, and she slows her breathing to match its rhythm.

They stay like that, curled into each other, until the silence is replaced by the roar of engines and Davenport’s voice through the intercom. Liftoff. Everyone to their stations. Lup closes her eyes and pulls Barry back down when he tries to get up.

She’s never been good at following orders.

58.

“Do you honestly think I would abuse Pan’s divine favour for something this trivial?” Barry, Lup, the entire cosmos sideeyes Merle. “… Yeah, fair enough. Fine,” he sighs, resigned. “Where do you want me?”

It was actually Barry’s idea. The scientist within him was burning away at the question, and true to form, Lup was just as eager to test out the constraints of any new and interesting magic.

“We can do it right here, if you want,” Barry says, gesturing down at the galley table they’re all seated at. Well, that he and Merle at seated at – technically, Lup is seated on. From the other side of the room, Lucretia pricks her ears up, obviously interested in what they’re doing, but keeping her nose firmly buried in her book.

“What, no garlands and twinkles this time around?” Merle says.

“I’ve had two beautiful wedding days already. I’m ok with this one being quick and dirty,” Lup explains.

Merle rubs his hands together, mouth twitching nervously beneath his beard. “Well, alright then. I guess we’re doing this… now?”

“Not getting any younger,” Lup says, which is both so completely true and completely untrue that Barry’s head spins too much to make a joke out of it. “Hey, Luce! Got a sec?”

Lucretia pads quietly from the other side of the room, her book still propped open in the crook of her arm. “What’s going on?”

“Getting married again, darling,” Lup says sweetly, and tugs her down till she’s seated in the chair next to Barry. “Want to be our witness?”

She looks confused a moment, but then slowly nods. “Sure. I’d be honoured.”

“Great!” Lup reaches down from her perch and ruffles her hair, which only drags a small frown to Lucretia’s face. “Let’s do this!”

Merle skips straight to the good stuff this time around, getting the blessing out in practically one breath, and Barry readies himself to feel the warmth in his chest, and-

Nothing.

“Huh,” all three of them say at once.

“Maybe Pan’s taking a nap,” Merle says. “Want me to try again?” Lucretia flips a page in her book, settling in for the long haul.

They do try again, more slowly this time, and Merle repeats every work of the liturgy, and Barry and Lup say their entire vows, and again, nothing.

“Sorry. Guess I lost my juju.”

“No, this actually tells us something interesting,” Barry reassures him. “I’d be wondering what happened to us at the end of our cycles, whether we just die and get remade, or if we blink out of reality and reappear. If we actually died, I’d assume the blessing would be nullified. Since it’s not, we can rule out death as what’s happening at the end of each year.”

“That’s only sort-of comforting, babe,” Lup says, patting his arm.

“I’m hoping neither of you are planning on dying again, just so you can reap my holy tax benefits.”

“Never,” Lup promises, and Barry thinks it’s another joke, until he turns and looks at Lup’s face. Her mouth is set in a grim line. The hand on his shoulder tightens, then tightens again. “Not if I can help it.”

59.

“Barry. Darling. Love of my life.”

“What?” he says, as Lup pulls him into her arms, back on the deck of the Starblaster once more. This time there are no tears, but she looks a little more faded than he’s ever seen her.

“Please tell me you didn’t take that crossbow bolt for science.”

He puts a hand over his chest, where only a moment before there had been a bleeding hole.

He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even answer. He just holds her close.

78.

They fucked up.

They fucked up, oh fuck oh f-

Lup tears her eyes away from Magnus’s limp body, sprawled across the obsidian floor mere feet from the Light, his torn shirt cast in hazy red from the streams of magma that cascade from the ceiling. Another rock breaks free and crashes to the floor, and Lup can’t see Taako anymore, she can’t see him she-

“Lup!” Barry’s hand catches her and drags her back as a spire falls onto the place she was standing, shattering into jagged shrapnel that bites at her calves and thighs. “We have to go!”

“Taako’s still-”

“Taako’s gone, Lup!”

And he is. She saw him take that fateful misstep. She saw where he fell.

Nobody, not even her, could survive that much fire.

Then run maybe ten paces before another rock crashes down in front of them and they have to pivot back towards where they came. She can’t see anyone anymore, not Davenport or Lucretia or Merle and why did they all come, why did they get this careless? Yes, the stones were heavy to move but someone should have stayed behind-

Another rock tumbles from the ceiling and smashes into Lup’s arm. She’s flung forward, nearly wrenched from Barry’s grip by the impact, half-sobbing from frustration. They can see the exit from here… but they aren’t going to make it. It’s just too far.

None of them are going to make it.

Oh, fuck.

They have to try. They have to. Even if everyone else is dead, they have to-

A hand, smaller than Barry’s, grabs her shirt by the tails and yanks her back towards the wall. She feels Barry moving in the same direction and they both slam into the stone at once, coming face to face with Merle’s sweat-stained face.

“What-” but he’s already chanting, eyes closed, muttering words too gentle for the horrific sounds of death and destruction as the room collapses around them, and when he finishes Lup’s chest warms, and warms, and she does sob now, because it feels good. It feels like hope, when there was none.

“Bring us home,” Merle says, and shoves the two of them towards the blackened cavern entrance. “Go!”

Lup tries to grab his hand but he shoves her away, and she and Barry take off running, bounding around projectiles with catlike grace as they move in sync, like they share the same body. She only looks back when their feet pass the threshold, and she sees Merle still standing there against the wall, watching them with a sad, relieved smile.

Another rock loosens. She hears the crack as it breaks away, but Lup turns before she can see where it lands.

82.

The night before the ritual, Merle takes the two of them aside.

“So,” he says. “You’re really going through with it.”

“Yeah, Merle,” says Lup. “We really are.”

He smiles, something tight and curling and frightened. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” Lup smiles back. “Didn’t think so, but I had to ask.” He takes out his book, and both Barry and Lup frown in confusion as he flips it open to a familiar page. “One last time, for old time’s sake?”

They look at each other. “Why?” asks Barry. “Once we’re liches, I’m sure the spell will dissipate. I doubt it transfers between metaphysical bodies.”

Merle snorts out through his nose, then turns his head away, rubbing one heel of his hand against his cheek, just above the tufts of his white beard. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re probably right.” His voice goes husky near the middle, but he refinds its center before he turns back to them. “But this is what I can do, so if there’s even a chance that’ll it’ll help…”

“Then we’ll take it,” Lup says, grabbing Merle’s hand before he can close the book. “Shit. Thank you.”

“Thanks for what? I haven’t done nothing yet.”

“For everything.” She swallows. “For everything. And if this doesn’t work-”

“Lup-“ Barry warns.

“If this doesn’t work,” Lup continues. “I just need you to know that. Alright? You did everything you could.”

“What are you talking about?” Merle laughs. “Of course it’s going to work. I’ve done it five times now. Have a little more faith.” He looks at Lup, and she looks at him, and their shared gaze is warm, and understanding. “So don’t you worry, I’m going to take good care of both of you. That’s my job.”

“Thanks, Merle,” Barry says, echoing loops words, and Merle’s wobbling tone.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.” He takes both their hands and places them on top of the book. “By the powers vested in me…”

Merle’s words fade out as Barry looks at Lup. Her brilliant eyes meet his, and even as the warmth swells, the look they share is one of farewell.

No matter what happens tomorrow, this’ll be the last time they share this.

But no matter what happens, they’re going to be together.

Come hell or high water, he’s never going to leave her alone again.

~&$(No DATE given@(*#

It’s cold up here, in the sky.

Barry wraps his jacket around Lup’s shoulders, and she leans in under his arm, swinging her legs to keep warm, or just to keep moving. Her bare feet flicker as the lights below pass by – a sparkling metropolis by the sea, and they can see it all from their perch on the last metal outcropping of the base: Neverwinter, in all its evening glory. After everything, impossibly, safe and sound.

Lup slides a little farther, sticking her big toe out as far as she can reach it, and suddenly the entire foot becomes buoyant, like it weighs nothing at all. Lup giggles at the sudden loss of gravity, and Barry redoubles his grip on the fluttering pages in his lap.

It figures, that Lucretia would have still had these. If there’s one thing she takes seriously, it’s her paperwork.

“What do’ya think?” Lup says. “If I spit, do you think it would hit someone, or would it just burn up in the atmosphere?” Before he gets a chance to answer, she hocks a loogie and lets it fly. They both watch the orb of spit vanish into the frosty air.

“It’s more likely that it’ll find its way back around the moon and land on someone up here.”

“Even better.” Lup grins, and Barry pulls her in all the tighter.

He’s missed this.

He’s missed so much, and this most of all.

“This feels silly,” he admits, shuffling through the papers. “I don’t even know why Lucretia wanted them in the first place. It’s not like we even officially exist anymore. Nobody’s going to come checking to see if our personnel records are up to date.”

“Yeah, but what Luce wants, Luce gets,” and there’s a bite to the words that wasn’t there before, and the air gets a little colder, and he shivers for the both of them.

Even with so many things mended, there are some they can’t undo.

Still, Lup’s voice softens as she takes the first page and holds it up to the light of the second moon, the real moon. “You sure you don’t want one last ceremony? Just for old times’ sake?”

He chuckles, imagining Merle’s face if they asked. “I’m good. All I want is you, at my side, forever and always.”

“That’s some corny shit, Bluejeans.” He shrugs, and she tucks her feet back up under her. “But you know I love it.” She puts the page back down onto the pile and pulls a pen out from behind her ear, then passes it to Barry. “So, what do you say? Will you make me an honest woman, officially?”

In every lifetime, in every moment, past and present, his answer has never changed.

“Yes. I will.”

He takes the pen and scribbles his name down on the dotted line, then passes the pen back. Lup adds her own signature to the other, and they both sit back, staring at the blocky letters of script at the top of the page.

Certificate of Marriage

No ceremony, no warmth, no mystical connection. They set the papers aside and kiss under the lights from above and below, and it’s only them, and that’s plenty. That’s all they need to be.

Forever and always, connected.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Haunted Castle Chapter Seven: King Boo

Another fireball rushed past Luigi’s shoulder, splatting to the floor. King Boo’s aim continued to be terrible but with how big the fireballs Bowser was capable of spitting were, all he had to do was get lucky. It was only a matter of time before he did, right? How deadly it would be, Luigi didn’t want to know. If he wanted to avoid it, he’d have to turn around to fight eventually.

How though? Unlike the first time he’d fought King Boo, this wasn’t a fake, this was the real deal Bowser. In a way it’d be fighting both of them at once and Luigi wasn’t sure he could do that. It maybe wouldn’t have been so bad if King Boo’s magic wasn’t also much stronger than it had been during that first battle. So, it really wasn’t a fight Luigi had any desire to take on top of the fact that he’d come here to save Bowser, beating him up to beat up King Boo seemed counterintuitive even if he had known where to start.

“You fucking cowards!” King Boo growled after them before spitting another fireball. Another miss – thankfully – prompting a roar of frustration.

Running ahead of Luigi, Bowser Jr. made a small sound of distress. He also needed to be somewhere safe before King Boo could be dealt with, especially if it meant beating up Bowser.

“Why run?” Gooigi asked, keeping easy pace with Luigi. “Fight?” They pointed back towards King Boo. “Ghosts! King Boo!”

Luigi might’ve tried to respond but in that moment a fireball hit Gooigi squarely in the back. The goo making up their body scattered far and wide with a loud sizzle. They’d reform in the Poltergust’s tank in a few seconds but seeing them get destroyed always made Luigi feel a little ill, hopefully they weren’t capable of feeling pain. Regardless, for fear of being next, he put on a burst of speed.

Upon reaching the door to Kamek’s lab, Bowser Jr. slid to a near halt to scramble inside. Luigi had no choice but to follow. They were potentially cornering themselves which was terrifying but at the same time there was no way Bowser could fit in the magic wardrobes, making escaping through one an obvious choice if they could just get to one before King Boo reached them. What they’d do about this whole King Boo possessing Bowser situation was something they’d figure out then.

Inside, Bowser Jr. rushed to the secret door – if only they’d thought to leave it open just in case this happened. Luigi slammed the door shut… right onto Bowser’s fingers. It had to have hurt but King Boo wouldn’t care about something like that, would he? He certainly didn’t flinch back. Instead, he gripped the door frame and pressed against the door. Luigi pushed back, putting all his weight into it. It wasn’t enough though, it was already opening, pushing him along with it.

“I got it!” Bowser Jr. said as the secret door started sliding open.

Before Luigi could decide if he should just give up on the door and bolt for it, King Boo gave it a mighty shove, knocking him back. He had no time to recover before King Boo stepped in, looming over him. He bent over to wrap one of Bowser’s hands around Luigi’s entire neck.

“Aha!” he said, yanking Luigi up several feet off the ground. “You’re mine! Just try to,” he imitated the sound of a vacuum sucking, as always it probably would’ve been funny if he wasn’t so scary, “me up in your wretched vacuum now!”

Dangling in his grasp, Luigi pawed at his hand around his neck, desperate to loosen its grip. At the same time, he scrambled for the flashlight to shine the dark light onto Bowser. Maybe it would stun King Boo or something. … Rather unsurprisingly it did nothing other than making his grin even smugger.

“You know, I was real mad at first when you I learned you’d shown up here when you weren’t supposed to,” he said. “But honestly, I think I’m all right with it. I never would’ve thought to do this if you hadn’t. Piloting a meatsuit is troublesome but it does have perks also. Like I can do this!”

He turned and slammed Luigi’s back into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him even with Poltergust between him and it. He immediately pulled Luigi back to do it again and again, squeezing his neck so tight he could barely breath. The third slam was accompanied by the sound of cracking glass. Oh no! The Poltergust’s tank! It was strong but even it could only stand up to so much. What would become of Gooigi if they were destroyed when their tank was broken?

“Stop!” Luigi tried to beg, his voice barely more than a whisper, but was ignored as he was slammed violently into the wall again. This time he both heard and felt the glass tank break.

Gooigi splatted to the floor, taking shape with an, “Oh no.”

Holding Luigi back against the wall, King Boo chuckled. Before he could say anything though…

“You leave them and my dad alone!” Bowser Jr. shrieked before jumping in from seemingly nowhere, flinging himself onto King Boo-possessed-Bowser. He went straight for King Boo’s crown; shrunken to fit Bowser’s head better, Junior bit and clawed at it as if he had any hope of doing damage to it.

The distraction caused King Boo’s grip to loosen a bit, allowing Luigi to gasp for sweet, sweet air. King Boo raised Bowser’s other hand to grab Jr. by the foot. He seemed to have trouble doing so though, transforming Bowser’s features from smug to angry. … Bowser had to be fighting him, right? Which was great but what were the chances of him winning even with how stubborn he was? Because despite his best efforts, King Boo managed to grab Jr. by the leg and yank.

Junior wasn’t letting go though. Still biting King Boo’s crown, he gripped it as if his life depended on it, snarling almost like a feral animal. His bravery was admirable but he was going to get himself hurt!

There was little Luigi could do but kick at King Boo and hope it was more of a distraction to him than it was to Bowser. Despite being not all equipped for altercations with physical beings, Gooigi jumped up to help too, wrapping their arms around Bowser’s arm, the one pulling on Junior, as if trying to weigh it down.

“Let go you little brat!” King Boo snarled. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? I’ll deal with you when I’m done with him and his stupid goo clone.”

Junior growled and seemed to bite down harder. It was magic crystal though, what harm could his teeth and claws possible do to it beyond scratching it up a bit? He did maybe have the right idea though; perhaps destroying the crown could force King Boo out. Easier said than done of course but it was a starting point. Now if only Luigi hadn’t been so easily snatched up.

With a sound like lightning striking, King Boo’s crown flashed, zapping Junior and forcing him to let go. King Boo tossed him to the side, forcing Gooigi off him arm with the same motion, clearly still fighting Bowser’s will though as it wasn’t as violent a toss as it could’ve been. But it was still more than enough. Luigi couldn’t turn his head to see where Junior landed but he did hear him hit Kamek’s table with a thud, knocking stuff over with a clatter and distinct sound of glass vials and beakers breaking.

“Now, where were we?” King Boo said as he turned his attention back onto Luigi. “Right, tormenting you because there’s nothing you can do to stop me this time. I could kill you, it’d be so easy to snap you like a twig or gut or bite your head off.” As he spoke his grip on Luigi’s neck tightened until darkness encroached on his vision, narrowing to a pinpoint of light that was King Boo’s now visibly damaged crown, the gold bent slightly, scratch and teeth marks on the jewel itself; it wasn’t indestructible, breaking it was possible.

Before the darkness could close in fully on that too, King Boo’s grip suddenly loosened, allowing Luigi to gasp for air again. “… less fun,” King Boo’s words phased in as the ringing in Luigi’s ears faded to background noise. “I still want you as a portrait on my wall and the living always make for better portraits, in my opinion anyway. That doesn’t mean I need to keep you whole though. I deserve some cathartic stress relief after all you’ve…”

He cut off with an undignified grunt as what appeared to be a wooden table slammed into his back, knocking him over and making him let go of Luigi. One would think he’d know better than to take time to gloat by now but luckily, he hadn’t learned better yet and hopefully never would.

Gasping for breath and clutching at his bruised throat, Luigi scrambled back to his feet – he was going to hurt a lot later but for now, with the adrenaline rushing through him, he mostly okay. Looking up, it was clear, Gooigi was responsible for the table, their plunger was still attached to it. They’d slammed it down on Bowser’s back so hard it had broken in two. There was no time to celebrate or to ascertain Junior’s  location or status, King Boo was already getting back up with an angry snarl. Before he could turn to confront Gooigi or snatch up Luigi again, Luigi, pleased to find it still worked, aimed his own plunger shot, hitting Bowser squarely on the face.

Careful not to step on the thick pieces of glass from Gooigi’s tank, Luigi rushed over to join them in toppling Kamek’s other table to be flung into King Boo. Assuming they all made it out of this alive, Bowser was probably going to be quite mad about all this but they didn’t exactly have many other options at this point.

King Boo got the plunger off his face just in time for Gooigi to whack him over the head with the table, breaking it in two and knocking him off balance once more. They were out of tables though and Luigi’s plunger shot wasn’t teleporting back in the Poltergust the way it was supposed to – King Boo’s slamming it into the wall had apparently broken more than just Gooigi’s tank, hopefully it could still suck up ghosts though – leaving them with little that could be done as King Boo pushed himself back up.

“Fine, I’ll destroy you first then,” he snarled, madder than ever before as he charged at Gooigi to slash them with Bowser’s claws. They pushed right through their body, doing little more than making him jiggle violently.

Luigi grabbed Gooigi’s arm, yanking them out of the way just in time to avoid the blast of fire that inevitably came next. He couldn’t let them be destroyed when their tank was in such a state lest it be permanent.

King Boo turned to face them again, already taking a deep breath for another blast of fire. With how small this room was and how much space Bowser took up in it, they couldn’t avoid him for long. Maybe if they could get around him to…

Something slammed into the side of Bowser’s face, forcing his mouth closed before a lick of fire could escape and knocking King Boo off balance again. It was Junior. “Get him Kamek,” he shrieked.

Luigi looked over to see that Kamek was in the room now too. He waved his glowing wand and suddenly all of them were outside somewhere, the full moon over head. “Sorry about this Lord Bowser sir,” he said as he waved his wand again, summoning a large thwomp above Bowser’s head.

Junior got out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit by it. King Boo tried but still off balance and seemingly having trouble regaining it, wasn’t fast enough. It hit his crown first of course, shattering it with a loud explosion of light and magic before knocking Bowser down.

It worked though. As Bowser fell beneath the thwomp, King Boo was visibly forced out of him, left to hover over him, stunned and crownless.

Gooigi made a wordless exclamation before rushing over, jolting Luigi into motion too. They had to capture King Boo before he recovered. His tongue lolled out his mouth, as boo tongues tended to do when they were stunned, giving them the perfect target to latch onto with their vacuums.

Coming to, he shrieked in anger and frustration as he tried to pull away. Thankfully they already had a firm hold on him though. Allowing them to yank back and slam him into the ground as hard as they possible could. Before he could even begin to recover from that, they yanked again, this time slamming him Bowser’s spiky shell.

Without a magic crown to amplify his magic and still not fully recovered from being forced out of Bowser’s body, it only took a few more hearty slams before he was defeated. His wail as he vanished into the Poltergust, though familiar now, was probably the most satisfying sound Luigi could’ve heard tonight.

As always, the whole Poltergust vibrated and shook. Oh no! After being slammed so hard into the wall so many times what if its containment unit was damaged? … Luigi held his breath, waiting for the worst as it stilled on his back. What would he even do if that was the case? Neither he nor E. Gadd had a spare Poltergust. Could Gooigi contain him long enough to lock him in the vault?

But… thankfully, it seemed okay for now. He probably shouldn’t push his luck though and hurry it to the vault to secure the capture. But first…

“Woohoo!” he shouted to the night sky, lifting his hands in victory and doing a little twirl before turning to Gooigi, holding a hand up for a high five.

“Woohoo!” they said as the gave him that high five.

Junior ran past them, rushing to his father’s side; Kamek hustled to keep up with him. Luigi couldn’t help but wince as he turned to look at Bowser too. The summoned thwomp was gone but he still lay face down on the ground, unmoving. It was too dark to see how badly he was injured without going closer but judging based off Junior’s small flinch upon reaching him, it wasn’t good but he was still alive and that was good enough.

Luigi didn’t want to interfere though and he needed to secure King Boo in the vault so he stepped back and looked around. Thankfully, they were outside the castle’s gates, E. Gadd’s lab was only a short jog away.

When he was about halfway to it, E. Gadd stepped out. “Did you win?” he asked when Luigi reached him a few seconds later. “Did you get him? Your signal dropped entirely when you were in the dungeon and then Kamek got summoned by Junior and then the signal finally came back a little while and now here you are. What happened? I must know.”

Eager to ensure King Boo’s capture, Luigi continued into the lab as he answered. “Yeah, we got him.” He went on to explain what happened while he attached the Poltergust’s nozzle to the ghost vault.

E. Gadd seemed to suck up the tale with glee. “Fascinating,” he said when Luigi was finished. “I wish I had been there to see it for myself. Ghosts possessing people is rather rare you know? I don’t think I’ve ever personally witnessed it from boo, I wasn’t even entirely sure they could.”

King Boo safely secured in the vault, Luigi let out a sigh of relief as he pulled the Poltergust’s nozzle back. He then carefully undid the straps, wincing a little as the aches and pains inflicted on him finally starting really setting in, before depositing it onto E. Gadd’s table. “What would happen to Gooigi if they got destroyed with it like this?” There was still some of the glass remaining, though not much, and the part responsible pulling and reforming Gooigi back into the tank was bent way out of line. Overall, the Poltergust was pretty battered in general, covered in dents and scraps. It still at least worked for sucking up ghosts though, a testament to E. Gadd’s handywork for sure.

“Oh… hmm.” E. Gadd frowned as he studied it. “I’m not sure but I believe they probably would’ve been destroyed for good.”

Luigi grimaced at the thought; with how dicey things had gotten there… It wasn’t worth considering. “I’ll tell them to be extra careful until you fix it.”

E. Gadd nodded as he pulled it off the table. “I’ll get right on that then in case there are any more ghosts left that need to be cleared up. There shouldn’t be with King Boo taken care of but it doesn’t hurt to be safe.”

Luigi sighed and gave him a thumbs up before exiting back outside. No longer fueled by adrenaline, everything hurt now and he could’ve easily lain down on the ground and taken a nap but he forced himself to half jog over to where Gooigi had chosen to remain with the others.

Kamek was tending to Bowser while Junior and Gooigi watched from a few steps away. They both turned to look at Luigi as he joined them.

“You be careful, okay?” he said, pointing to Gooigi. “E. Gadd said you might uh… be destroyed for good if you melt or take too much damage when your tank’s broken. So be super-duper careful, all right?”

“Okay,” Gooigi replied with a nod and a thumbs up. Hopefully they would listen, they had a tendency to be reckless since they could normally get away with it.

Next Luigi turned to Junior He at least didn’t look injured so that was good but… “You uh… okay?” Luigi asked anyway just in case.

Junior shrugged, glancing quickly at his father before looking back up to meet Luigi’s gaze. “Yeah, mostly I guess. Sorry I ran away when I did but I needed to summon Kamek because I… couldn’t think of any other way to help. And uh… it was the smart thing to do so I had to even though it meant I had to…”

“It’s fine,” Luigi interrupted. “You did the right thing.” That was the right kind of thing to say, right? “Summoning Kamek is what saved us so uh thanks for that.”

“Oh uh… um… thanks for saving my dad.” He looked like he was going to save more but Bowser finally came too with a loud grunt as he sat up. “Papa!” Junior said instead before rushing back over to him.

Gesturing Gooigi to follow, Luigi backed up a little ways to give them some privacy. And there was a rock not too far away he could sit on and get a little rest at least. Gooigi sat next to him. Were they tired too or just following Luigi’s lead? It was hard to say, they were unreadable. … Luigi should teach them how to play poker, they’d be good at it.

The two of them had been sitting there in silence for only a few minutes before Luigi looked up to see Bowser striding over to them with Junior at his side, Kamek following behind. Normally he was rather intimidating but after having saved him from King Boo possession of him and after babysitting his son for the past few hours as well as Luigi’s exhaustion, he didn’t seem so scary right now. So, leaning back up on his hands, Luigi didn’t even stand up as he reached them.

He had a bandage wrapped around his that was either dark by default or already soaked in blood, it was hard to tell. He also didn’t seem entirely steady on his feet. But he seemed to be ignoring all of that.

“Thanks for watching out for Junior,” were surprisingly the first words out of his mouth instead of anything nasty as Luigi had expected. His tone wasn’t even begrudging in the slightest either. “And thanks for rescuing me too or whatever.” Ah, there was the expected grumpiness “And Junior here says you’re going to save my other kids too?”

“Yeah, as soon as E. Gadd finishing fixing the Poltergust,” Luigi replied. And when they were done with that, hopefully finding the portraits containing the rest of the minions would be quick so this whole ‘adventure’ would be over soon.

“Good! I’m coming with you for that.” That was not at all surprising on multiple levels, not that Luigi would’ve tried to stop him anyway.

“Uh sir,” Kamek cut in, “you probably shouldn’t do that. I fear you may have a concussion. So until you’ve been seen by a healer I must insist you take it easy and don’t move around much.”

Bowser growled and turned to face him. Before he could say anything though, Junior spoke. “It’s okay Dad, you stay here, I’ll go with them.”

“Absolutely not.” Bowser turned to look down at him. “It’s too dangerous.” Finally, someone who agreed with Luigi.

“It is not. I was helping them hunt ghosts the whole night and I’m totally fine.”

“Yes, but…” the grimace on Bowser’s face confirmed that he’d been aware of and remembered what King Boo had down while possessing him, “you almost got hurt.”

“By King Boo. He’s taken care of now though and because of that there might not even be any ghosts left. If there are, they’ll be demoralized that their king is captured. Also, Luigi and Gooigi are professionals and have been keeping me safe the whole night like I said.”

“But…” Bowser tried to cut in, Junior wasn’t letting him though; he was good at that, huh?

“And I really want to be there when they’re saved. I’ve been really worried about them, especially Ludwig because he’s always been afraid of ghosts even if he won’t admit it. So you can stay here and rest while I handle the rest of it, okay?”

Apparently not even Bowser could argue with that as he let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, you can go but only because you handled the rest of this so well. And I’ll take it easy or whatever. But as soon as they’re safe, bring your brothers and sister to entrance hall, I’ll meet up with you there.”

 -

What King Boo’s intended surprise had been became clear as soon as they stepped into the room that housed the Koopalings’ portraits. It was a dead-end past where King Boo had been hiding himself. There were still a handful of boos down there too. The portraits were set in a ring in the middle of them. A very obvious trap, Polterpup deserves lots of pets and golden bones after this for warning them of it.

Taking out so many boos at once was a pain and all around awful but nothing too difficult especially when compared to handling Bowser possessed by King Boo. Once done with that, it was time to save the Koopalings and their recaptured boo allies. With three dark lights it didn’t take long before they were all free.

They were of course confused and had questions. Luigi let Junior answer most them and explain what happened as they all started back for the exit. He was too tired to explain it properly anyway.

He still had to find the rest of the minion portraits before he could even start heading home, let alone go to bed. Ugh, hopefully there weren’t many. E. Gadd would probably give him ride so maybe he could just spend the night at his lab to save E. Gadd from the stupid ‘o clock in the morning drive to Luigi’s place. He was pretty sure it was closer too than his home was too so he’d ask E. Gadd if that was all right with him.

 -

As promised, Bowser was indeed waiting in the entrance hall when they arrived. The shy guy examining was likely healer but he stood and pushed them aside seemingly as soon as he noticed Luigi and company entering the hall.

“Green Stache,” he said as he strode right up to Luigi before even going to his kids, “or uh… I mean Luigi. Go clear the rest of the ghosts out of my castle and free whatever minions are still trapped in the paintings. When you’re done, Kamek will show you and your goo friend to your guest rooms or room if you’d rather share one.”

“Oh uh… guest rooms? Really?” Luigi didn’t have enough energy to resent the command, especially since he’d been planning to do that anyway. But the casual assumption that he was going to spend whatever was left of the night here was surprising but… actually not bad.

Bowser was already turning away to leave but paused to look back at Luigi. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I provide you with guest rooms? What do you think I am? You saved my family and castle, I ain’t going to kick you out at whatever dang time of morning it is now.” With that he dismissed Luigi as he turned to face his family.

Holding back a yawn, Luigi turned away to resume his rescue task. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could go to sleep. He didn’t even care that it’d be in Bowser’s Castle. Also, Bowser had remembered his name, even corrected himself with it. After being forgotten so many times, that actually felt quite nice. He’d certainly earned Bowser’s remembrance and gratitude.

Tomorrow he was going to have a talk with E. Gadd about better, surer ways to contain King Boo. But that was a worry for tomorrow, for he was going to let himself bask in another victory and the fact that Bowser and his subordinates should at least finally remember his name from here on out.