#but my work has me semi-nomadic. These days

[pokemongoloresociety]

This is why I love Tumblr and I encourage the Leader-Loving Niantic Hating base to stick around with the online GO fandom. It's sad to see such good characters wasted in bad hands, but the people who appreciate them keep them alive.

Part of the reason why I still play and GO and bother with Twitter (because most of the 'story' stuff is fed there) is to engage in the game enough to get some context and give more material for the fandom, myself included, to play with in their fanworks, dreams, speculations, and shameless, out-of-control, lust.

No need to miss them. Even if Niantic shits the bed, the fandom will still be here.

I don’t care for niantic at all but the characters? the characters ill miss

[pinky-ghostface]

Two Valentines Day Surprises

summary: It's Valentine's Day, a very important holiday to Alphonse and his Boo, but Seth is across the country and can't get back to them in time. Alphonse wants to cheer the reader up with a sweet surprise, but neither of them are prepared for the true surprise meant for them.

content/warnings: nsfw, femdom, pegging, strap on blowjob, deepthroating, nipple play, mmf threesome, hair pulling, p in v sex, afab gn!reader (no mention of boobs but they are referred to once as "a cruel mistress")

word count: 4.2k

wanna read it on ao3?:

A/N: I actually began this a couple years ago but finally decided to finish it😁 and things have def changed in the canon since I started. I think I thought after the Jessie/Derek situation Seth wouldn't want to settle down just yet in the little town he wasn't wanted in so long ago and would want to explore his freedom after prison and like, go on cryptid hunts or smth😚 so.. ig this is a semi AU where he does odd jobs across the country and experiences everything the road has to offer a lonely cowboy like him lol. and definitely listening to Orville Peck. also frequently communicating w Alphonse and SugarBoo bc they luv each otherrr🥰 and sometimes taking a break from his nomadic life to visit them. enjoy!

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

As I pushed my key into the lock of my front door, I heard a muttered curse from inside my home. Confused, I opened the door and peered into the kitchen to see my boyfriend’s very shapely, and completely bare, ass with just two thin strips of fabric tied behind his waist and neck to feign at covering him. “Al? I didn’t think you were coming over so soon?” 

He whirled around, revealing that he was wearing nothing but my favorite apron. “Oh! Hey, boo! Uhh, what time is it… I guess I thought I’d have more time for your surprise, heh.” He grinned at me sheepishly. 

“Surprise? Thought we were just gonna do dinner and a movie at home.” My eyes slid over his body as I took off my coat.

He smiled and moved closer so that he could loosely circle his arms around my hips. “I know, but I could tell you were kind of bummed about Seth not being here for Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to do somethin’ nice and romantic for you to cheer you up.” 

I smiled a little sadly and leaned my head into his shoulder. It was hard not seeing our other partner every day, but we both understood how important traveling and going on adventures was to him. We texted and called often, and Alphonse and I had been together long enough before Seth crashed back into Al’s life and cannonballed into mine that we were more than okay on our own. We talked about him daily, and on days when one of us missed him a little too much the other would be there to reminisce, joke, cuddle, and comfort until the ache went away. 

“But I guess that didn’t really work out, huh?” Al said, interrupting my thoughts. 

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?...oh.” I looked over his shoulder at the rest of my kitchen for the first time since walking in. I guessed I hadn’t smelled the burnt cupcakes that were sitting dejectedly on the stovetop. They were black on top and red goo was periodically dripping over the sides of the muffin tin.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You’re lucky I already cleaned up the spilled cake mix from the walls, the eggs I dropped, the… exploded buttercream frosting.” He shuddered. “Sorry, baby. I kind of messed up your kitchen for nothing. I don’t think those abominations can be saved.” 

I smiled up at him and brought my hand to his cheek. “Al, it’s fine. Really. It won’t take too long to scrub out the muffin tray, so we can have even more time together tonight. I’m glad you came over early!”

He pulled me closer and buried his head in the crook of my neck, whining. “I know, but I had, like, a whole thing planned out! I was gonna make a bunch of red velvet cupcakes for you so you could take a break from baking for once, and turn the lights down and do the ‘rose petals on the floor going to the bath’ thing and meet you in the bathroom with the cupcakes like this,” he gestured to himself with one arm, his face still in my neck. “And I was gonna feed you your cupcakes in the bath and give you a back rub and maybe even try to call Brown Eyes if he hadn’t left his rest stop yet…”

“Babe,” I said, halting his rambling. “We can still do all that, even without the baked surprise. I mean, I was pretty surprised just coming home to this, anyway.” I ran a finger underneath the apron ribbon on his waist. ‘I have so many treats already in the fridge for us, you have no idea. We’re gonna have a great Valentine’s Day.” 

He held me tighter and nodded but said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds, I heard him sigh through his nose. “I just miss him, y’know? This was supposed to be the first Valentine’s we all spent together. It just sucks we didn’t tell him we wanted to do something sooner so he could have time to get up here. I wanted to make it up to you a little bit.” 

Oh. I turned my head to look at him so that he was forced to take his head off my shoulder, and I wound my arms more fully around his waist, he and I chest-to-chest and my face looking up at his pouting one. “Alphonse, you don’t have anything to make up to me. I know this isn’t what we were picturing, but it isn’t either of our faults, and I’m still prepared to have an awesome, romantic, sexy Valentine’s Day with you. Seth should be stopping for the night near New Mexico in a couple hours; we can talk to him then. Until then we can have plenty of fun on our own, right?” 

Al smiled and leaned in even closer so our lips were just barely touching. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That sounds good. Now we’ve got more time to spoil each other, anyway. We don’t need that crybaby to have fun.” 

I laughed against his mouth. “Careful. You looked about ready to cry, yourself when I walked in.” His lips curved up playfully for a moment before quickly leaning in to kiss me. My hands gripped his waist more firmly in surprise, and he tightened his arms even further around me, pressing us fully together so his hands could move up my back. My left hand drifted downward to shamelessly squeeze his bare ass cheek. As my fingertips drew closer inward, they brushed something… plastic? 

I broke the kiss to look up at him in shock. I was met with cocked eyebrows and a toothy grin in silent response. “That would be the other part of your surprise. You’ve been puttin’ out vibes that you wanted to take control lately, and I thought tonight would be the perfect time to make a night of it.” 

I gasped in elation, smiling wildly, and kissed him hard for a moment. As I pulled away, I gave him a light swat on the butt and told him, “Get the strap.” 

“Yes, Boss!” he said, still grinning, but instead of moving past me to reach the bedroom, he turned around and retrieved my bubblegum pink strap on dildo and harness from behind the coffee pot on a nearby counter. 

Naughty boy, he’d planned out more than I’d thought. 

He handed it to me, smug as ever. I undressed quickly and performed the awkward, yet familiar dance of shimmying into the harness. Al and I exchanged one more lingering, messy kiss before he took a step back and sank to his knees. 

My eyebrows quirked in surprise as I gazed down at him, amused and loving. “Aw, you wanna choke on my strap, baby?” I teased. He smoothed his hands up my thighs, half-lidded eyes never leaving their gaze. “You know I’d love nothing more,” he mumbled against the tip. He took it into his mouth, sucking softly, and worked his way to the base quickly. As the tip hit the back of his throat, he pushed on, gagging slightly. I raked my nails through the hair on the back of his head, grabbing a handful to help him down. He choked loudly, and his hands tightened on the backs of my thighs, nearly making my knees buckle. A strand of drool hung down, reaching his chest, and he moaned deeply through his nose as he continued to deepthroat me. By now his cheeks were rosy flushed and tears were begging to fall from their perch on his long, dark lashes. “So pretty,” I murmured, pushing my fingers through his bright, slightly bleach-damaged hair more gently now, softly scratching his scalp. He looked up at me with an expression that could only be described as adoring, and I loved him for it. “My good boy.”

“Mmm…” he groaned at the praise. 

I tugged him off my strap and squeezed his shoulder, telling him to get up. When he got on his feet, he kissed me hard, wet mouth exploring mine, our teeth clashing a bit. He held on to me tightly and I embraced him, enjoying his being so desperate already. It was really no surprise he had such an oral fixation with all the lollipops he sucked on all day. 

With my arms around his waist and hands rubbing his lower back, I turned my face upwards so my lips could brush his ear and whisper: “Since you’ve done such a good job of getting my cock wet, I’d guess you were ready to let me bend you over that table and make you see tweety birds.” 

He lifted his head up from my shoulder and smiled dopily. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were onto somethin’, boo.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine to whisper to me huskily. “I want you to mess me up.” 

With that confirmation, I pulled him with me toward my kitchen table, kissing him all the while. I turned us so his back was to the table and ran my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, to his neck, and gently began to tug at the bow holding the apron up. “I have been dying to tear this off you since the second I walked in,” I huffed hurriedly. 

Alphonse leaned down so our faces were even and looked at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Well, I promise not to keep you waiting if you promise not to tease.” I laughed and gripped his chin harshly. “Al, sweetheart, you’re really not in a position to be making deals like that.” I slowly pulled at the ribbon string in my hand until the bow loosened, and the light fabric that sparsely covered him fell off his defined chest, spilling around the attractive “v” of his hips and exposing his dark happy trail. “If you want me to give you what you need, you’ll need to accept that I can do anything I want to you.” I leaned in to nibble and suck at his neck, and he sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. My other hand teased down the top of his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and paused to tweak a nipple. He yelped a bit, and when I let go of his chin, his head rolled back. My hand continued down to his hard cock, his raspy breaths keeping time with slow, languid strokes while his hips tried to buck up into my fist. I circled his tip with my thumb lightly, teasingly.

“You’re a cruel mistress, you know that?” he said to the ceiling. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love it, but it’s true. And as for what position I’m s’posed to be in, I’ll let you worry about that.” He opened one eye and looked at me. “You know I’ve never objected to you doing anything you wanted to me before.” 

“Hmm,” I mused, finishing a necklace of hickies across his clavicle. “Well, if that’s the case…” I grabbed his hips and turned him around quickly. He grunted in surprise and planted his hands on the table quickly to catch himself. He looked back at me with wide yet delighted eyes. “You wouldn’t mind if I finish what you started, would you?” I held the base of his plug in my fingertips, twisting it just a little, for emphasis. 

“Hah!... “Course not, Boss. You know I’m yours to play with however you please.” he said, a bit strained, and leaned even farther over the table. “Good,” I whispered, and eased the buttplug out of him. He exhaled slowly and forcefully, and eased his back into an arch. I placed it on the counter next to me. I smoothed one hand up his spine, admiring the pale expanse of his back and the cute pink bow still tied around his waist. With the other, I lined my pink dildo up to his hole and slowly, slowly, began to push in. “Mm!” Alphonse cried, stifled. I eased in carefully, rubbing his back and cooing at him the whole time.

Once completely inside, Al moaned loudly and pushed his hips back more to try and grind on my cock. To his disappointment, I almost completely pulled out of him. But before he could protest, I swiftly pushed in all the way, rubbing against his prostate. 

“Fuck, ohh, christ,” he choked out. I laughed a little at his reaction and kept fucking him the same way: slow and hard. 

I took the time to admire him- his fluffy hair mussed up, his cheek smooshed into the table, his eyebrows drawn together wantonly, and deep, rhythmic moans falling from them. My eyes drifted lower, loving the way the sheer of sweat on his lean back made his skin shine. Even lower, that bubble butt was still making me lose focus, rippling from the force of my hips meeting it with every thrust. 

And with every thrust, the base of the dildo ground into my clit, making me drive forward more quickly, more harshly, chasing the sweet sensation. I unknowingly gave Alphonse exactly what he wanted, it seemed, because he melted beneath me. His knees nearly gave out and he looked back at me, panting slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?” I grinned at him. “Nnghh,” he replied, letting his head fall back down. 

The building pleasure below and seeing his sweet expression gave me an idea for something else I wanted from him. 

I slowed down and pumped into him a few more times, then pulled out gingerly; he whined in confusion and tried to turn around. I leaned over him fully and put my lips next to his ear. “I want to ride your dick so I can see your pretty face when you come in me.” He picked his head up again, leaving behind a small pool of saliva, and grinned tiredly and replied, “If I can walk to the couch, you can make this already good Valentine’s Day a great one, boo.” 

When I pulled him up, the apron fell off him completely and he hugged me around my neck, leaning most of his weight on me. It must have looked funny, this lanky guy hanging off me, half-carrying him to the living room, and shoving him backwards onto my couch. He fell with little effort and a small oof. He looked up at me as I wriggled out of the harness, kicked it aside, and moved to straddle his thighs, and he said breathlessly, “Come take what’s yours.”

His dick was flushed pink and leaking against his stomach. So pretty. I took it in my hand and stroked it slowly, and at the same time leant forward and kissed him firmly. “I intend to,” I whispered against his lips, to which he smiled and squeezed my hips in his hands. I lifted my hips and guided his cock to my hole, and slowly sank down, moaning. I was already so wet from fucking him, and he slid in so easily. As the backs of my thighs met his hips, he threw his head back and let out a long, low sound through parted lips. With one hand on his chest and the other beside his head, I began to rock slowly, murmuring praise to him all the while. His hands slid up my body and he was begging me to go faster between whimpers, so I gently took his wrists in both my hands and pinned them on either side of his head on the armrest. He flexed his arms, but didn’t try to break free. His eyes were squeezed shut as I sucked on his neck, leaving a new rainbow of hickies. 

As I worked my way up to his jawline, I heard him suck in a harsh breath and he tried to sit up quickly. I blurted his name, confused, and sat back to look at him. His wide-eyed gaze was fixed behind me, towards the door, and I heard a low chuckle. Before I could turn around in surprise, or get myself off my man’s dick so I could fight off an intruder, a warm, rough hand curled around my waist and a familiar face leaned its chin on my shoulder.

“Well, ain’t this a pretty sight to come home to,” a deep voice drawled. He may have also said something teasing us for having so much fun without him, but Alphonse or I’d have no way of knowing because once I- ahem- removed him, we were all over Seth, hugging him and asking how on earth he made it all the way here. Once we’d settled in a pile, all of us kind of sitting on everyone else, he began to explain.

“You knuckleheads really thought I’d miss Valentine’s Day?” he laughed between kisses. “I’m no dummy, I know how y’all feel about it. I just thought I’d surprise you and tell you I was farther away than I was, but I’ve been making my way back to you for the last five days.” He had one arm around my shoulders and cupped Alphonse’s face with the other. “I thought when I got back y’all would be moping around, missin’ me. Instead, I come home to you both screwing like jackalopes without a care in the world.” he teased, pouting. 

Alphonse huffed. “What, we’re just supposed to spend our favorite holiday cryin’ our eyes out over you? That ain’t fair!”

“Mmm, I think he just means he missed being included in our cuddle puddle,” I purred and leaned my head on Al’s shoulder. 

“That, or the idea of you two being horny-sad thinkin’ of me keeps me warm on lonely nights.”

I glared at Seth. “You aren’t helping.”

He laughed. “No, but I love the look on my bubblegum prince’s face when he’s trying to be mad at me.” He leaned in close so he was an inch from Al’s flustered face. “But really he’s dyin’ to be put right back on his back so I can really show him how much I missed him.” 

The poor man’s blush deepened, and he grumbled a little. 

I smiled and wrapped my arms around Seth’s shoulders, pulling him back so we were both staring at Al. “I think he needs us, don’t you agree? Maybe you could help me put him back in his place.”

“Oh, no, sugar, this here’s your battle. As much as I’d love to beat the brat out of him, I’m too tired to really give it my all. I’d prefer to hang back and take a more… supporting role.” He smooched the side of my neck and leaned back. 

Grinning at Al, I put my hand on his chest and started to push him back down like he was. “Well, baby? You gonna put up a fight now that you know big bad Seth’s not gonna force you to sit pretty for me?”

He shook his head and grabbed my hand to kiss it. “I’m his brat, but I’ll always behave for you, boo.”

Seth chuckled and moved to straddle Al’s thighs behind me. “Well, he knows what’s good for him, that’s for sure.” 

Alphonse began to reply. “Shut up, man- agh!” 

I yanked his hair sharply. “Maybe not. But we can correct that together some other time. Right now, I only care about enjoying the rest of my evening the way I’d dreamed of spending it, with both my boys.” 

He whimpered softly. “Yes, Boss.”

Seth was so close to me I could feel his chest pressed against my back. He rested his chin on my shoulder again. “I always love to watch you work, sugar,” he breathed flirtily against my ear. He reached around me for Alphonse’s cock, and the second he touched it Al let out a huge sigh. He pumped it up and down in his fist a few times, surely enjoying the way his pearly precum dripped over the pink tip. I lifted my hips up so Seth could help me guide it in, and sank down, more easily this time and no less pleasurable. I could feel Seth smirking against my neck as he held onto my hip with one hand and held Al’s hand with the other. 

Al was already settled back into our former rhythm with his free hand gripping the side of my thigh, head thrown back against the armrest and eyes closed in bliss, moaning with each bounce of my hips. “So glad you’re here, Seth,” he panted. “Mm! Ahh, I missed you so, fuck, so much. I really did.” 

Seth let go of Al’s hand to trail it up his stomach teasingly. “Aww, Al. Well, I had to come take care of you, didn’t I?” Al’s back arched to meet his touch. I’d do the same; we were both so starved for his affection. Seth smoothed his hand back down Alphonse’s torso, all the way to where our bodies met, and ran both hands all the way up my body to my shoulders, forcing me to lean back against his warm, broad chest. “Take care of both of you,” he purred. And without warning, he brushed his fingers over my nipples, sending electricity running through my body, especially my clit. I moaned his name loudly and threw my head back to rest on his shoulder. He continued to circle my nipples lightly, and my hips began to move faster even though my legs were starting to burn. Alphonse flexed his hands on my thighs and began babbling brokenly and bucking up into me at the increased sensation. Seth grabbed my hips to help me bounce and at the same time left a wet trail of tender kisses across the back of my neck and shoulders- not skimping on the teeth, either. 

“Fuck, please!” Alphonse cried, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. 

“What do you need, baby?” I panted. I was getting close. 

“Aah, m’gonna cum, please Boss, can I cum? Pleeease…”

I was about to reply when Seth spoke. “Not ‘til our sugar does.” And he began to rub my clit quickly with wet fingers. My back arched hard in shock and ecstasy so that I could hardly move at all, but they both helped me move on Al’s cock, moving faster, rubbing harder, pushing me through pulsing, all-consuming pleasure… until I fell from the threshold, rocking against Al’s cock frantically while he called my name, and falling against Seth’s chest once more into strong, safe arms. Al moaned sharply once more, and a warmth filled me and sent another wave through me. Once I opened my eyes again, Seth laid me down next to (on top of) Al and knelt down beside the couch, smiling down at us.

“Seth, honey... I missed you so much too. I’m so glad you could be here, tonight wouldn’t have been the same without you,” I said as I tucked Al’s head under my chin. 

“Me too, babe. Although it seemed to me y’all were gettin’ on just fine on your own…” he glanced at the strap on discarded next to the coffee table. 

Al laughed wearily. “Sure, but I ain’t this fucked out unless the both of you were involved in messin’ me up.”

“How’re you feeling, by the way? That looked like it took a lot out of you.” I said, squeezing him tight.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It was a lot, but like… so good. Y’know. I’m really good.”

“Mhm, don’t I know it.” Seth remarked. “Once sugar here works that magic, you’re a goner.” He leaned over Alphonse to kiss me, his tongue sliding over mine. 

Alphonse let out a long sigh. “Guess I’m the one who needs the bath now.” 

Seth huffed a chuckle into my mouth and broke away to look at him questioningly. 

“I was gonna run a bath for us so we could spoil each other and eat cupcakes in it.”

“Not like that last part was gonna happen,”I snickered.

“Hey!”

Seth gasped. “You tried to make cupcakes? I was wondering who got stabbed over that stovetop when I came in.”

“Boo said it wasn’t that bad!”

I giggled, knowing their bickering was loving. “If you two are done, I think we should get on with the rest of our night. All of us are hungry and probably sore, and I know I want to spend more time cuddling in our actual bed now Seth’s here.” 

Al grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked up at Seth. “I’ve been waitin’ to get my hands on you for a long time now, Brown Eyes. We gotta take advantage of a night like tonight.”

“I agree,” Seth murmured. “We’re not gonna do a thing but enjoy each other’s company.” Then he kissed him, long and deep. After they parted, he stood up, grunting. “I’m gonna go draw that bath y’all were talking about so you can rest. I’ll be back for you in a minute, so don’t go anywhere.”

“Say draw one more time,” I pleaded, smirking.

“Draw-er,” he obliged. “And don’t go teasing me about it, neither.”

“Us? Never.” Al smiled deviously. Seth stared sternly at us, then winked and turned to the bathroom. Alphonse nuzzled deeper into my arms and sighed contently. I planted a kiss into his hair and thought about how lucky I must be to have two amazing boyfriends to cherish and  surprise me everyday.

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A/N: I loved writing this sm and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I hope to do more stuff like this, and soon. this is actually my first fanfic (first inspired by Valentine's Day with your Submissive Boyfriend audio rp by SweetKinkAudio on p*rnhub) and I'd love any criticism or advice if you're willing to give me any💖💖💖 happy valentine's day!!

taglist: @dizzy-n-busy

[storycraftcafe]

Character Profile Tag

Thanks for tagging me @inseasofgreen

Gonna dig into my notes for the lading lady of my unnamed paranormal romance thingy.

Rules: Copy and paste the template, fill it out for one or more of your OC's, then post your OC's and the blank template for others to copy and paste.

Name: Katherine

Nickname: Kat, Kathy, never Kath

Kind of being: Human.

Age: 21-22

Sex: Female

Appearance: Young, around average height, stocky build with strong shoulders, and thick thighs. Shoulder length wave, dyed black, faded ends, green eyes. Wears glasses, prefers darker clothing varying from practical and comfortable to standard rock girl fare: boots, jeans, band shirt and jacket.

Occupation: Retail at a Outdoor and Hunting Store. (long story)

Family Members: Dad: Stephen, tragically and very recently deceased. (right in front of her). Mum: Alice. Alive but estranged but currently taking her daughter in. Also has secretive reasons for leaving that are plot/worldbuilding related. Paternal Uncle: Bazza (Benjamin), an absolute rough-nut of a human. Handles pest control on farms and shears sheep, helps manage livestock Kind of a nomad. Maternal Grandmother: Linda. Kat doesn't remember her Grandmother well or fondly. Might have something to do with that boatload of trauma.

Pets: Crocbait, knowns as Croc, Crocca, or "Absolute mongrel". Service dog for panic attacks, anxiety and PTSD and the like. Is a mutt, seems to be some combination of Blue Heeler (aussie cattle dog) and Labrador mix. The result is an energetic, friendly but fiercely protective companion that knows how to be adorable on demand.

Best friend: Back in Aus: Rachel - Roommate and bestie, athletic playing Netball on the weekends, degree in business and working at a call center to make ends meet. Taught Kat crotchet and his a small side business making crochet stuffies. In the US: Alex: Very neurodivergent, transman and just a practical nerd. Shoots for fun/hunting. Introvert, but sees a fellow outsider in Kat and offers the kind of friendship they wished they had. Strong problem solver and a stable rock.

Describe his/her room: More of a guest bedroom with en-suite upgraded. At one point her Mum hope she'd visit and use it so there's still some younger vibes, a few of Kat's favourite toys untouched for years and pale colours. Kat's touch is limited with darker bed spreads, personal photos and a books. It's early days yet and she isn't sure how long she's staying around.

Way of Speaking: Wry sarcasm, and quick wit, casual and slag filed until she's pissed off then it gets precise and impersonal and a little condescending. If it suddenly starts raining hard, she's likely to ask "Think it'll rain?" while getting soaking wet.

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): Good posture, stims by rubbing her hands, along a scar from arrow fletching on her right hand. Jiggles her leg, bites her lip when anxious. Facial expressions tend to be subtle when she's not feeling something intense. Exudes physical confidence, holds herself upright, head high and a still developing "dont fuck with me" aura. Stares unintentionally. has the ADHD postural sway, and bumps into things a lot.

Items in his/her pockets or backpack or purse: Clicky card stim, treats for Crocbait, minipen and notepad, phone, earbuds, ear plugs, some kind of snack. Usually a book to read.

Hobbies: Reading, so much reading, fiction and non fiction. Archery, with the occasional bit of pest hunting back home. Games but just the cosy ones. Crochet. Woodworking.

Favorite sports: Archery, martial arts (tae kwon do and juitsu). Loves HEMA but hasnt had the chance (or money) to try it.

Talents, abilities, or powers: Scary good instinctive archer, pretty decent hunter. Fast reader, strong memory for information, facts and semi eidetic memory (visual memory which helps with her poor working memory). Fantastically calm in a crisis (just brace for the meltdown after).

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): Shy and cautious at first but friendly. Uses humour as a buffer, and presents herself as easy going and calm. You know you're getting close when you start seeing the dryer sarcasm, the grumpy moods and she drops the "just like everyone else" mask that can and has creeped people out. With her trusted people, she lets her neurodivergence fly and is a weird, somewhat temperamental nerd dealing with a lot of guilt, grief, and suicidal ideation.

Fears: Deep running water, car accidents as the passenger, large "trucks/utes". Flooded roads. Meltdowns in public.

Faults: Reactive and temperamental. Her well read, well learned background lends to arrogance and condescension. She's working on both. Overly independent to the point of self harm, and a little too self deprecating.

Good points: Passionate, compassionate and genuinely kind. Strong believer that everyone has their strengths, that smarts is more than academics, and is generally warm, safe and protective of her people. Likes to uplift over tearing down.

What he/she wants more than anything else: Her Dad back. One way or another. The hurt to stop. Throwing a free for all tag but tapping @ryns-ramblings @author-a-holmes ad @spideronthesun to join in if you like.

Template under the cut:

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Kind of being:

Age:

Sex:

Appearance:

Occupation:

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Describe his/her room:

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Items in his/her pockets or backpack or purse:

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[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

ok! thoughts on the second book!

i really liked cinderpaw’s arc so far! i related to her a lot- both as someone with physical disabilities and her excitable nature (i highly doubt it’s intentional but i very much thought she had adhd- I recognised a lot of my own symptoms in her). while i know “disabled cats ending up in the medicine den” will become a blatantly ableist trope eventually, and cats that could be warriors and want to be warriors will be pushed into that role, i think it worked here.

cinderpaw’s disability isn’t just an injured leg- she has internal damage from the car, which can do a lot that can make it much harder to fight. and she’s not forced into the role, she picks up helping yellowfang and is good at it, and finds herself feeling like less of a burden with it. obviously, she isn’t a burden, but none of the clan see her as such. this is cinderpaw’s own self perception, due to her energy and need to do things. finding something that can occupy her and something she can enjoy, even if it’s not her initial dream, is something that stuck with me. she’s impacted by her disability, she’s allowed to be, but she also finds happiness. and that was something i liked! i know the series will get worse but. i think it was pulled off well here.

the clans are obviously very deeply flawed societies, but considering they’ve been basically subsistence hunting for generations, it feels understandable their culture would be that way. it’s clear the hostility towards other clans is because food is so scarce- i’d presumed reading through the cats had broken off into clans due to infighting over that food, though i know later on books will cover the origins of the clans and i don’t know what they actually are. the hatred of kittypets likely stems from a similar source. while the clans see kittypets as weak, they actually are excellent hunters and the hostility towards them would likely stem from them stealing prey from the clans- though that has been forgotten over time. even medicine cats not being allowed to have kits makes some sense- if there’s only one of them per clan, if one has any complications you’re suddenly left without a medicine cat. i am sure these all have way stupider reasons. but i will stick with my denial headcanons.

the clans are fairly similar to ancient humans in a lot of ways, though instead of being nomadic or semi nomadic as you’d expect they’re instead sedentary. we can see the issues this causes plain as day- if they cannot find prey, they can’t leave to find more due to the clans borders and the twolegs who have surrounded the forest. if the clans formed due to their former territories becoming surrounded humans building towns and mines and stuff, that’d definitely be a fairly understandable reason as to their aggressiveness. they essentially got boxed into a small area unable to easily leave, and it means they can’t go where the prey goes like they presumably would have done previously.

[vayneoc]

8, 10, 16 for the tag game (づ￣ ³￣)づ

the ask game

hi kleffy (｡･ω･)ﾉﾞ took me long enough and i still couldn't come up with an answer foe the first one

8. biggest insecurity?

nah, ok, I've been trying to come up with some, but I literally have zero idea. something for me to ponder on, but for now my mind is completely blank

10. relationship to their parents?

Tense.

Fun fact: Vayne is of corpo-nomad origin.

Her parents were British corpo-rats. Vayne was a young teen at the moment, getting some appropriate for a corpo-rat education and connections. Only for her parents to be drawn into some political games of the corp, blackmailed and on the verge of being executed. So they decide to flee and contact their close American nomad friend (one of Foxes - @medtech-mara's nomad clan. we merged our canons a bit). She is concerned, but says they are always welcome here, so they leave as soon as they see the opportunity.

*timeskip for some years*

Her parents work with ODESSA (@medtech-mara's corp), not quite happy about it, but it is the biz they know the best, and one of the very few ways they can be useful to the clan.

Vayne decides to leave for the city, and that unfolds into a serious argument with her parents. She's fucking tired of being a gypsy, having to jump convoys for life; the shitty life where she sleeps amidst sand with smells of car fumes and loud working people all around any time of the day, not sure if there will be food next month and overly concerned every time she has a slight fever, because meds are hard to come by and you have an actual chance to die even from a fucking cold.

So she leaves anyway with her "aunt" (the woman who assisted her parents in joining Foxes) and the part of the clan with the same views.

Later on she also semi-voluntarily joins Arasaka (invited and partially blackmailed by Jenkins; oh, don't worry, she's on her way to cut a deal with Abernathy and get the dude killed👌), which doesn't help her relationship with parents either.

Fun fact №2: being with Foxes also requires taking Fox as your last name. So for some time Vayne's full name was Vayne Fox. It still is, occasionally, if she needs it.

16. favourite swear word?

Shitshow. So descriptive, so fitting for oh so many parts of her life.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔

week 5 - day 17 - kinktober - group sex, begging, voyeurism, degradation, praising, daddy kink, sir kink, semi-public sex, fingerfucking, facefucking, overstimulation, spanking, sharing kink, cum eating, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex, nipple play, spit kink, hair pulling, squirting, deep throating, cock and ball worship, cuckolding, aftercare, being recorded and teasing - daddies ari levinson, nomad steve rogers, curtis everett. their best friends bucky barnes and andy barber and reader's teacher jake jensen x little student reader.

warning - group sex, begging, voyeurism, degradation, praising, daddy kink, sir kink, semi-public sex, fingerfucking, facefucking, overstimulation, spanking, sharing kink, cum eating, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral sex, nipple play, spit kink, hair pulling, squirting, deep throating, cock and ball worship, cuckolding, aftercare, being recorded and teasing.

kinktober masterlist

18+ only please, the gifs and headers aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

“Class dismissed! Please make sure to have your work handed in by next Tuesday. It’s not that hard, people.” Jake groans, taking his glasses off as he runs his hand down his face dreading what he has to do next. He puts his glasses back on before standing and fixing his shirt. Jake walks over to where his very tiny and well-liked student stands, packing her school supplies in her small princess bag. “Miss L/n, may I have a word with you before you go?” 

Y/n looks up, her face lightening as her favourite Professor stands before her. She blushes under his gaze, her thighs squeezing together, not so subtly, wishing that he’d touch her as her daddies do but will never mention that to them, not wanting to hurt their feelings or make them think that she doesn’t love them. Y/n jumps onto her desk, giving Professor Jensen a big grin “of course, Mr Jensen.”

Jake’s eyes dance down her body, taking in the form-fitting, tiny dark blue sundress. His pants tighten at the sight of her breasts nearly spilling out, and Jake clears his throat as his gaze darts back up to Y/n’s dumbed-out face. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t completed any assignments I’ve given you. My question is, Miss L/n. Why haven’t you been handing in your work?” 

Y/n pouts, her brows furrowing as her breath hitches, “a–am I in trouble, Professor?” Her doe-like eyes widen, staring up at the tall man, lip beginning to wobble at the thought of disappointing the man.

Jake shakes his head, “no, no. I just need to know if there is a reason for the lack of work.” 

Y/n’s mouth forms into an ‘o’ before a dreamy smile appears, “oh! I got a reason for it, Mister!” Jake nods and gestures for you to continue, “I was getting railed by my daddies!” Jake’s eyes widen at the confession, “I mean… They try to help me with my work 'cause I’m a dumb baby, but it usually ends with me underneath them.” A giggle escapes Y/n’s lips, eyes glazing over as she thinks about her daddies.

Many emotions go through Jake at that moment, shock, anger, jealousy and horniness. He shifts a bit as he feels his cock harden, rubbing against the denim of his jeans. Without meaning to, Jake lets his jealousy get the better of him. “That’s no excuse, Miss L/n, and it’s quite disappointing to know you’d rather be a whore than do your work.” Jake storms over to his desk, grabbing a stack of paper before walking back. Not noticing how Y/n’s bottom lip quivers or the tears filling her eyes, Jake practically slams the papers into her chest before continuing. “If you don’t have these completed by next week, then I will be going to head office and get you removed from either my class or this school.” 

Y/n watches her Professor storm back to his desk through blurry eyes, quickly tightening her grip on the papers and her bag. She runs out of the room, holding back her sobs the best she can as she runs home. The moment the building comes into sight, the tears fall, and she runs faster, needing to be wrapped up in her daddies arms. Y/n slams through the door, bag and papers tossed to the side as she runs through to the kitchen, nearly tackling Steve when she runs into him and wraps her arms around his waist.

Steve gasped in shock, not expecting to be nearly taken out. “Hey baby girl, how was your day?” The smile on his face drops when the sound of Y/n’s sobs fills the room. Dropping the wooden spoon in his hand. Steve quickly turns and wraps his thick arms around his girl. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Y/n’s tears begin to soak the homemade apron she made him, “Ari! Curtis! I need you in here!” Steve continues to rub his hand up and down Y/n’s back, trying desperately to calm her down.

Two bulky men run into the room, faces hard, until their eyes land on their blubbering baby. All three men hold you, wrapping you tightly between them, letting you cry whatever upsets you out. Ari pulls out a chair, sits down and pulls you along with him, placing your small form on his lap. “Do you want to tell us what has you so upset, little baby?” Steve and Curtis come close, placing their hands on your body, comforting you in a way that slowly calms you down, causing you to nod at Ari’s question.

With three pairs of hands stroking your hair and any other part of you, Y/n takes a shaky breath before she begins. “M–Mr Jensen was mean,” a pout starts to form on her plump lips as she gulps, “he came up to me after class asking to talk, and I was so excited! I thought I was such a good girl, but t–then he asked why I haven’t completed any of the work that he gives out, and I told him the truth.” Her wide eyes stare at all three men who listen intensively, “cause daddies always told me to tell the truth, or I get punished but Mr Jensen, he got mad and” Y/n’s cheeks go a deep red when she thinks back to what he called her.

Curtis’s hand moves down to her chin before lifting her head, making her look back up. “What happened then, bunny? Hmm?” His dark blue eyes stare deep into hers, a brow raised as he waits for her to speak.

“H–he called me a whore and said that if I don’t finish the work by next week… That he’ll go to the head office and get me kicked out of either his class or the school.” Her doe-like eyes stare deep into Curtis’s, not daring to look away, or there will be consequences. The hands petting her stop short when the words slip from her lips. Y/n shuffles in Ari’s lap as she starts to feel the tensions rise. Steve notices that she begins to worry, hurriedly hides his emotions and picks her up.

“You want to help me make dinner, baby girl?” Y/n nods, covering his face with kisses, appreciating his distraction. Steve places the small woman down onto the ground, letting her feet touch the floor before she wanders off to where her apron hangs. Steve turns to the other two older men, their blue eyes hard as stone and jaws clenched. Looking at one another, they nod as an agreement is formed. Curtis joins Ari at the table, taking a seat as they wait for dinner, Steve turns back to his best girl, and a vast grin forms, and the sound of claps fills the room. “Well done, baby! I’m so proud of you.” Y/n beams, cheeks turning a rosy pink from the praise as she looks down and plays with the hem of her white cherry-covered apron.

“Thank you, daddy! Food now?” Steve nods.

Chats and laughter fill the kitchen as everyone is sat at the table, eating the massive feast that Steve cooked all day. The three men all take turns doting on the tiny female, wiping her face clean, praising her, hands settled on her thigh, back or stroking her hair. 

When dinner ends, Ari cleans up with the help of Curtis as Steve carries Y/n to the bathroom. Setting her down on the toilet seat whilst he runs the bath, adding a vanilla-scented bubble bath, a smile forms on Steve’s face as Y/n’s giggles fill the room. He turns and prepares to help her strip but finds Y/n already naked and ready to wash the day away. The bathroom was filled with hums and laughter as Steve washed her and she played with her rubber ducks.

Steve picks his girl up, wrapping a fluffy pink towel around her and drying her; Steve unplugs the bath. He lathers Y/n in lotions and her skincare products before they head into the bedroom where Ari and Curtis are. Ari opens his arms up and smiles when Y/n runs into them and wraps herself around his warm body. Curtis hands Ari her pyjamas before they all strip off and change. Tiny hands grip Ari’s shoulders as she puts one leg in her pants at a time.

Y/n settles between her men, snuggling close to them, feeling safe and protected. The heat from their bodies warm her cold body; Curtis, Ari and Steve kiss Y/n goodnight, reminding her that she’s a good girl and that they love her and will always love her.

Steve, Ari and Curtis wake before Y/n does; they gently kiss any exposed flesh before getting up and deciding to start breakfast. Once in the kitchen, Curtis leans back against the wooden chair, sipping the freshly made black coffee as a stern glare settles on his face, “so what do you think?” 

Ari turns slightly, and the bacon he’s cooking is sizzling, “About yesterday?” Ari chuckles, shaking his head and turning back to the pan. “There’s not much we do, and she’d hate us if we killed him. ‘Cause if you haven’t noticed, our little baby has a crush on her Professor.” Steve nods in agreement, scrambling the eggs in a separate pan as he begins to talk.

“It was wrong of him to hurt our girl like that, maybe….” Steve trails off before shaking his head and focusing on the eggs. Both men stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but after a few minutes of silence, they grow annoyed.

“Maybe what, Jackass?” Curtis growls, frustrated with the whole ordeal. He’s been on edge since you came home crying, so as you can see, he doesn’t have time for Steve to be a dumbass.

“Maybe… We should show him what a whore she really is,” Steve says, turning to face the other two. Ari and Curtis look at each other and shrug before turning back to Steve with dark smirks.

“Why not” Ari shrugs, “but we won’t mention it to her. Let’s leave it a surprise for both of them.” Ari grows hard at the thought, “we’ll need someone to hold him so he doesn’t try to leave, and I know full well that none of us will volunteer.” 

“We could give Bucky and Andy a call. We are supposed to see them today, anyway.” Curtis shrugs, gulping down his coffee before they hear tiny feet hitting the ground and giggling. Y/n runs into the room, feeling refreshed and happier than yesterday, dressed in a pastel yellow sundress that is still too small around her chest.

“Good morning, baby girl/little baby/bunny.” All three men greet her at the same time. Y/n grins as she walks over to each of them and gives them their morning kiss. When she reaches Curtis and leans down to kiss him, his hand comes around and goes underneath the dress, squeezing the plump flesh before slapping her ass, causing her to squeal.

Y/n giggles, “naughty daddy.” She makes herself comfortable on his lap while Steve and Ari serve breakfast. The kitchen is again filled with chatter and plates scraping as everyone digs in.

After eating and chatting, Steve looks at the time and stands. “C’mon, baby girl. Time to go to school; you have a big day ahead.” Y/n nods, giving them more kisses and hugs before walking to her bag; she grabs it and heads straight to school.

Y/n dreads going into Professor Jensen’s class, knowing she’s disappointed him, but she’s a big girl who has to suck it up. That’s what daddies tell her anyway when they feed her mouth and princess parts with their lollipops and cream.

Y/n walks into his class with her head down, missing the way his eyes follow her with guilt, placing her things down as she takes a seat. The course begins, and for about twenty minutes, Jake talks about a subject that Y/n wasn’t paying attention to. Her mind was too focused on how last night, none of her daddies played with her and how incredibly horny she felt.

As Jake pushes his glasses up and goes to say something, the classroom door slams open; in storms, five incredibly hot, bulky and angry men. Y/n squeals, excited to see her daddies and their friends. Bucky and Andy send her a small smile before their gaze focuses on the shocked teacher, Y/n’s thighs together, and small whines leave her lips. Curtis turns toward the class and growls for everyone to get out. The rush of feet and people fleeing fills the room before seven people are left.

Y/n gets up and runs to her daddies, giving them a big smile but stops short at the sight of their angry faces. Bucky and Andy walk over to where Jake stands, grab hold of him and push him down into the teacher’s chair. “Bunny, get on the desk now.” She scrambles to the wooden desk, desperately trying to jump her tiny body up. A squeal leaves her lips as she’s suddenly lifted and placed lying on the desk.

Ari’s hands move up Y/n’s legs, dress lifting along the way and flashing everyone her bare cunt. Brows furrowed as Ari looked up at his little baby, “weren’t you wearing those cute little white knickers of yours, little baby? Where’d they go?” Y/n’s cheeks turn a rosy pink as she quickly looks away and hides her face, “and your all wet. Huh…” Ari’s head turns toward where Jake sits, sweat gathering around the poor man’s forehead. “I guess you were right. She is a little whore.” A dark smirk appears on his face.

Curtis walks around until he’s standing in front of Jake, leaning down to his level and giving him a wide twisted grin. He grips Jake’s chin, glaring into his terrified blue eyes. “You ever be a dick to our girl again, we will kill you, and she won’t be able to stop it. Got it?” Jake’s head rapidly nods up and down. Curtis’s eyes move up to Andy’s and nods, causing him to swap places with Steve and join Ari, ready to devour you.

A sharp moan fills the room as Ari dives between his girl’s legs, lapping at her glistening cunt, his thick fingers digging into her thighs as his tongue swirls around her swollen button. His hand slowly moves up her thigh and reaches her core. The tips of his fingers lightly brush her weeping entrance, causing a breathy moan to fall from her lips, their cocks straining to break out of their pants at her desperate whimpers.

Curtis’s gruff voice fills the air, causing chills to run down Y/n’s spine and her cunt to clench around nothing. “Remember, she’s OUR girl. You three are just getting a taste and nothing more, and if you try anything without our say-so. You will regret it, Andy.” The bearded lawyer slowly drags his gaze away from the withering woman's body, looking toward the rugged man. “You will listen to Ari, do as he instructs. He will show you what she likes and dislikes.” The man nods before looking back at Y/n. Curtis turns and looks at Bucky and Jake, “same goes for you two, Bucky. You will listen to Steve and you.” His glare set as he stares down Jake, “you will listen to me.” 

Y/n’s hand tangles into Ari’s hair as his tongue swirls around her little clit, his fingers pushing their way through her weeping cunt. “D–Daddy, oh– too much.” She whines, her grip tightening on his hair as he picks up the pace, curling his fingers against her sweet spot whilst he harshly sucks on her clit. Y/n’s other hand comes up and grips Andy’s jean-clad thighs. Little squeals and moans fall from her plump lips as her daddy devours her princess parts, not once coming up for air as he laps up all the juices he can. 

Andy and the men standing off to the side all have their eyes focused on her and cocks straining harder against their pants at her breathy moans.

Ari pulls away, causing a bratty whine to leave Y/n’s lips. She tries to push him back between her legs, but she yelps as Ari’s hand slaps against her ass. “Don’t be greedy, little baby. Now take this pretty little dress off and get on your stomach.” Y/n stares at him with wide eyes, no words going through to her, as her brain is fuzzy. Ari smirks, tilting his head as he licks her juices from his lips. “Did you hear me, little baby? Or have you gone stupid.” She continues to stare, her plump lips pouting. Ari looks up at Andy and nods, “well, go on, take her dress off and spin her. My dumb little baby is too stupid to do big girl things.” 

Andy reaches over, grabbing hold of the flimsy material before tearing it off her. Y/n’s soft, plump breasts bounce freely before a squeal leaves her lips as she’s flipped. A hand comes down, slapping her ass. Moans and cries leave her as it continues ten more times, her cheeks red and her cunt dripping. “Sorry, little baby, but that’s what you get for being a whore.” Ari leans down and kisses her back before unzipping his pants and nodding for his friend to do the same.

Both men take out their bulging members, their tips angry looking and leaking. Ari turns as he hears a noise, noticing Curtis setting up a phone and putting it on record, “Look baby, you’re gonna be a star.” He smirks, grabbing hold of his swollen cock and rubbing it against her folds, placing it against her lips and tapping. “Open wide for Andy, little baby. He wants you to suck on his lollipop and give you all his cream.” Y/n’s greedy mouth opens, happily moaning around the fat cock. Ari slides deep inside her tight cunt in one quick thrust, causing Andy to throw his head back and let out a deep moan as Y/n vibrates around him.

The two men set a pace, Ari’s hands gripping Y/n’s hips as he roughly fucks deep into her cunt and Andy’s hand wrapped in her hair as he holds her head still for him to fuck harshly into her throat. Their actions were brutal, but the tiny woman between them was causing a puddle on the desk, “you like this, little baby? Being used by daddy’s friend? All these men are watching you, and yet your dripping like a goddamn whore.” Ari pounds harder into her, Y/n’s screams vibrating around Andy’s cock, making her gag when he thrusts deeper. 

“Don’t listen to your daddy, honey. You’re not a whore. You’re a good girl. Aren’t you?” Y/n’s eyes lift and stare deep into Andy’s lustful ones, trying to nod in agreement, but the thick cock in her throat causes her trouble. Her eyes cross as Ari hits a particular spot, making drool seep out of the corners of her mouth, Andy’s cock thrusting easier as more saliva comes out. 

Andy’s head lolls back, grunting as his end approaches and his thrusts become sloppy. His hands tighten in her hair as he goes faster until he feels his warm cum spurt out deep inside her throat. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” His large hand strokes her head, “swallow it all, honey. Your daddies told me you like cream.” His cock twitches as she swallows his cum, licking and sucking his member to get all the yummy cream.

Once Andy steps away, tucking his cock back into his jeans. Ari pulls her body closer to him and pounds incredibly hard inside her, “you’ve been a bad girl, little baby. You know you are only supposed to listen to your daddies and not other men.” He throws his head back, gripping your hair as his hips snap deeper and faster. “Did you like his cream? Huh? You want more?” Ari pounds harder when you nod, “dirty little girl, you better thank Andy for giving you his cream.” His hand wraps around her hair, creating a ponytail and pulling until her head is up, and she’s looking at Andy through dazed eyes.

“T–thank you, sir.” Y/n moans out, her cunt clenching around Ari, squeezing the life out of his thick member.

Andy smirks. His hand comes up and strokes her cheek. “What are you thanking me for, honey? Hmm?” His thumb rubs her plump bottom lip, watching it instinctively fall open.

“Y–your – Oh Daddy! I’m going to –” A squeal leaves her lips as Andy slaps her cheek, raising his brow. “S–sorry, sir. Thank you for giving me your cream.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Your welcome, honey.” Andy holds her hands as Ari continues to thrust. His groans can be heard as she squeezes his cock; her juices squirt out and cover Ari and the desk, cum drips down the side of the desk and onto the floor. Causing Ari to thrust deep and release his cum into her womb before stepping back and walking over to the rest of the men with Andy.

Y/n doesn’t get a chance to breathe as her daddy Steve comes over with Bucky; Steve grabs his little girl and flips her onto her back. Softly tickling her sides and smiling down at her when her cute giggles fill the room. “Hey, baby girl.” Steve runs his thumb softly up and down her cheek, a small smile on his face as she grins a brighter and dazed smile back at him.

“Hiya daddy, can… Can I have your balls, pretty please, daddy?” Y/n pouts, eyes growing wide as she stares deeply into his soft blue ones. He nods, continuing to stroke her cheek as his other hand comes down and unzips his jeans, pulling the monster-like cock out, his heavy balls following. Steve’s cock twitches as a needy whimper leave her lips, her gaze locked on the weighted sacks, mind leaving her as she thinks of all the ways to get his cream out of them.

“Open wide, baby girl.” Her mouth eagerly opens as Steve guides his balls toward her mouth, a sharp moan leaving his lips when she latches on and begins to suck. Her small hands come up and stroke his lollipop. Vibrations shoot through her and his balls when Bucky circles her overstimulated button. His thick metal fingers pinch the bud before entering them into her tight hole, pushing Ari’s and her cum back inside her.

“Fuck– she’s still so fucking tight.” Bucky’s eyes connect with Steve’s, “what do you want me to do, boss.” Steve glares at his best friend, annoyed for a split second by his sarcastic tone before a grunt falls from his plump pink lips. 

“Finger her, fuck the cum back into the little whore.” A dark look takes over Steve’s features; looking down at his baby, who’s too focused on sucking as much of his balls into her mouth. He flicks her pebbled nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them and slapping them. “You want that, baby girl? You want Bucky to fuck your daddy’s cum back inside you? Wanna be full and pregnant? Yeah, you do, baby.” A thick glob of saliva lands on Y/n’s cheek, “you’re just our dumb baby, gonna carry all our kids. Keep you full and round all year.” Steve collects the spit that landed on your cheek and rubs it onto your nipples, causing your cunt to clench and Bucky to shove his metal fingers in quickly.

“Fucking hell.” Bucky slams his fingers in and out of her, his flesh hand coming up and slapping her swollen clit, causing the small woman’s body to jerk and moan around Steve’s heavy sack. A smirk falls upon Bucky’s face, turning to look at Jake, who sits desperate and hard in his chair, “I bet you can’t wait for your turn, buddy. That’s if Curtis over there lets you” his pace picks up, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

Steve pulls his balls out of your mouth, a string of salvia connected. Your whines and moans fill the room, hands reaching out, wanting him back inside you. Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head when Bucky continues to curl into your sweet spot. Steve comes forward and taps his cockhead against your plump drooling lips, his precum leaking onto your lip and inside your mouth, causing Y/n’s eyes to shoot open and your pupils to blow out.

“Daddy, daddy, please! Want your cream! Please gimme your cream, please – oh.” Y/n’s tongue sticks out, “B–Bucky, Sir! Feels so good.” She squeals when he slaps his hand on her clit, juices squirting out for a second time. Y/n’s body begins to sag, feeling exhausted, but her half-lidded eyes are focused on her daddy’s cock and balls, not wanting to disappoint him by forgetting her manners. She quickly stutters out, “t–thank you, sir! Cream now?” 

“Okay, baby girl. You did so well, so good. Relax your throat; daddy’s going to fill you up with his cream.” Hanging her head over the edge of the desk, mouth opening. Steve grabs the base of his cock, slowly sliding into his girl’s mouth and all down her throat, causing a bump to be seen. His cock twitches as he watches her eyes roll back, and she begins to suck hard; Steve’s hand comes down and wraps around her throat as he starts to thrust, groaning at the feeling of her throat constricting around his thick member. “That’s a good girl; fondle my balls, baby girl.” 

Y/n’s shaky hands massage the massive sacks, happily sucking on her daddy as she feels he’s close to giving her his cream. Her tongue struggles to swirl around him, suckling on the mushroom tip, lapping at the pre-cum that leaks out. “Get ready, baby girl. Daddy’s going to cum.” Steve’s pace starts to pick up, feeling his cock twitch wildly before a large groan leaves his lips. Thick white cum spurted out and down his girl’s throat, her lips tightly wrapped around his tip as she sucked as much of his cream out. Practically eating it, Y/n’s eyes close as she hums happily, continuing to caress heavy sacks and milking her daddy’s cock from all his cream.

Steve slowly pulls out, and a drop of cum leaks from her mouth; he quickly catches it with his thumb and sticks the digit in her mouth, watching with happy eyes as she sucks the cum off, giving him a big smile. “Thank you, daddy.” Steve leans down and kisses her plump lips gently before he and Bucky walk over to the other men and swap with Curtis and Jake.

Curtis stares at Y/n with a twisted look in his eyes, strolling over and running a finger down her face. “Hey, bunny. You up for one more?” he whispers softly. Y/n whines and rolls over, babbling quietly about something, Curtis leans over and delivers a harsh smack on her ass, causing her to squeal and try to roll back around, but he holds her down. “What was that, bunny? Are you really being a naughty little slut after everything?” Growing annoyed at her whines, Curtis delivers four more slaps, her squeals slowly turning to moans.

“P–please, daddy, no more. S–so sensitive.” Her wide doe-like eyes stare up at him, tears brimming and her plump bottom lip quivers. His hand comes around and grips her chin, dark blue eyes staring dangerously into hers.

“D–daddy, no more. D–daddy, my teacher called me a whore. D–daddy, I’m such a whiny little brat.” His other hand comes down, delivering a harsher slap, and the grip on Y/n’s chin is so tight that it could cause a bruise. “Don’t you wanna please, daddy? Don’t you want to please your favourite teacher? From what I heard, bunny. You’ve been naughty by not doing your work. Were you going to bat your pretty little eyes, spread your slutty legs, and hope to get away with it?” Y/n rapidly shakes her head, tears falling as her lip trembles.

“N–no, daddy! I wanna please you!” Her head continues to shake, “wasn’t gonna! Was told not to!” Curtis grabs her head, stopping it from moving, gently stroking her cheeks and wiping the tears away.

“It’s okay, bunny. I believe you. Just open wide for daddy and Jake over there, and I promise you that you’ll get to relax afterwards.” His soothing words enter her, the darkness going over her head as she nods. Leaning forward to place a desperate kiss on his lips before lying on her back again, her legs falling open along with her mouth.

Curtis slowly takes out his cock, slapping the head on her cheeks before sliding deep into her throat, his head throwing back and a raspy growl falling from his lips. His head falls forward again, and he places his hands on either side of Y/n’s head whilst thrusting. Curtis’s eyes roam down her body and stop at her empty cunt, dark eyes snapping up and glaring down the shaking man. “She’s not gonna finger herself, trust me. We would know.” A grunt falls from his lips as he feels her tug on his balls.

Jake still hasn’t moved, his mind too focused on not doing the wrong thing because, to be honest, Curtis scares the living shit out of him. His eyes are glued to Y/n’s glistening cunt, never expecting to see it.

“Do you need me to fucking guide you or something? Are you dumb too? The fuck are you waiting for.” Curtis growls, his thrusts harsher as he wraps a hand around Y/n’s throat and squeezes. A gargled moan leaves her moan and vibrates her third daddy’s cock. 

Jake’s hand moves toward Y/n’s dripping cunt, swirling a finger around her overstimulated button, causing her to jump and whine against the cock in her mouth. He slides a few fingers in before slowly thrusting them in and out, his thumb rubbing Y/n’s clit whilst curling his fingers. Her back arches, choking on Curtis’s cock and gripping the side of her teacher’s desk while he fucks his fingers into her. Jake’s hand comes around and holds her hip down, pushing his fingers faster and harder into her until she finally convulses, her cum squirting out of her and all over her teacher.

Y/n’s moans are cut off by Curtis’s cock, causing the vibrations to run through him and his cum to shoot out of him and down her throat. The thick and heavy member twitches as his balls tighten, and he grips her hair, thrusting his cream deeper into her mouth, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head as she swallows the delightful cream.

He slowly pulls out, petting her hair before looking between Jake and Bucky. The only two men who haven’t cum this whole time, his gaze returns to his baby’s. “Bunny, do you wanna be covered in cream?” Her dazed eyes shoot open, nodding. Curtis looks at both the men, “well, cover her.” 

Bucky walks over to her side, slowly taking his throbbing member out as Jake does the same. The tired and used woman lies there, eyes focused on both of the men’s members as their hands move up and down the base, twisting their wrists and giving their attention to their tips as they take in Y/n’s body. Strokes pick up, feeling their heavy balls tighten and their cocks twitch. White streams of cream shoot out of the thick mushroom tips and cover Y/n. Her squeals of happiness and excitement fill the room as her fingers scoop up the mix of creams and suck on them. Hums of contempt leave her lips before she lies back and closes her eyes.

Both men tuck their softening cocks back into their pants as Steve grabs the tissues in Y/n’s bag, cleans her up and has help putting her cute little dress on. Ari picks her up bridal style before walking out with Steve. Curtis looks at the other three men, his gaze still hard. 

Curtis gives them a nod, heading over to the still-recording phone, grabbing it before walking out and leaving the men to be confused and satisfied. He catches up with Steve and Ari, kissing his bunny's forehead gently before they head home. “Thank you, daddies. I love you.” Y/n’s sleepy voice can be heard, causing a soft smile to form all the men’s faces.

Once they get to their house, Ari picks Y/n up again whilst Steve rushes inside to start the bath, adding her vanilla-scented bubble bath and ensuring the temperature is set right. Curtis heads into their bedroom and grabs her pyjamas. The pants are a fluffy pink hello kitty and one of his jumpers, needing her to know he still loves her. When Curtis enters the bathroom, Y/n is submerged in the warm bath water, her eyes closed and head tilted back as Ari washes her hair and Steve washes her body. 

Y/n’s eyes open slightly, seeing Curtis holding clothes in the doorway. Her hand reaches out, wanting him to be close as well, a happy and sleepy smile makes its way onto her face as he comes close and holds her hand, his thumb stroking the back of it, and soft giggles fill the room as all three men make her laugh. When the water gets a little cold, she’s picked up, dried and lotioned before clothes are placed on her petite form, and a cute little laugh leaves her lips as she’s picked up and taken to their bed, where a bunch of snacks and water sits.

She settles between her daddies, snuggling into the three beefy men and covering their faces in kisses when she notices a Disney movie is put on. Curtis places the water bottle against her lips, ensuring she has fluids in her system whilst Ari feeds her and Steve massages any part of her body that he can. 

thank you for reading! this piece is dedicated to the amazing @junipermuses, wouldn't have been able to come up with it without her.

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[smileysuh]

Accidentally In Love : Jooheon

⇢ Synopsis: When Maxine arrived in Mexico at her hotel, where she’s booked a communal room with another girl, she finds out that the hotel booked her in a male room due to her name (Max). At first, rooming with a male stranger is daunting, but soon it becomes evident that Jooheon is exactly the kind of person Maxine needs to get her to enjoy her time in Mexico... especially since lots of activities are offered cheaper in ‘couples packages’. 

⇢ Pairing: Jooheon x Original Character ⇢ Genre: smut, comedy, slow burn ⇢ Warnings: tba ⇢ Word Count: 16.4k ⇢ Tropes/AU’s: non idol au, strangers to lovers, whirlwind romance, soft/balanced pairings, english major oc, world traveler/nomad Jooheon, semi-coming of age, excessive use of bucket lists, 

⇢ Literary Inspo:

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

Hiroshima Mon Amour - Marguerite Duras

Into The Wild - Jon Krakauer

Prompts used: 

OC books a bargain vacation, and when she arrives, she finds out she has to share a hotel suite with a stranger.

OC and friend/enemy/stranger pretend to be dating to win a contest.

Commissioned by: @biffhofosho​ Thank you so much for being my first commission and for helping me work out the ups and downs of this whole process! You gave me a lot of wiggle room with prompts and it was a marvellous experience :) Thank you for choosing me to complete this piece for you :)

This Fic is in My Reserve - find out more here

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Day 1 - Saturday - morning 

Jooheon enjoyed the heat. It was one of the reasons he’d separated from his usual band of nomadic friends to have a small, peaceful getaway in Mexico. It would have been nice if Minhyuck had come with him to share one of the rooms with two beds at the cute seaside hotel that offered nearly hostel-like prices. But, Jooheon was good at making friends on his travels, and he was sure the other guy who ended up bunking with him for a week would be decent… if not, Joohoeon could go do his itinerary of bucket list Mexico activities by himself.

When he arrived at the hotel, Jooheon’s gaze immediately landed on a girl at the counter. In a knee length silky dress, with strappy sandals, massive sunglasses, and brown hair pulled neatly into a bun sitting low on the back of her head, the girl looked like some lost Trust Fund Baby- only the red suitcase - with it’s matching carry on - standing silently next to the girl’s knees betrayed that she was a guest and not a tourist in need of directions, and Jooheon wondered, for a moment, what she’d be doing in a place like this.

The nomadic traveler’s mind began to wander again, bringing him back to his bucket list, and he happily went over the ideas he’d memorized: snorkeling, seeing sharks, paragliding, climb a mountain and- wait, meeting a cute girl had been on that list too- hadn’t it?

Jooheon gave the woman a second once over - a second over if you will - but this time, he didn’t just assess her outfit and the way she tucked a strand of silky brown hair behind her ear when it fell in front of her face - he assessed her frazzled countenance, and suddenly, Jooheon’s protective side was itching to leap in.

He'd solved many a problem on his worldly travels, and he had been known to have a way about conversing with women. Maybe this one just needed some help? Jooheon thought a level head might be exactly what the situation needed, especially with the way the woman was fumbling over her spanish, merging it with english and even cussing in what sounded like French?

When the Korean man actively listened to the discourse, it appeared that both women seemed to be having a miscommunication that was not really to do with their language barriers.

“But you see, it’s not Max, it’s Maxine! Yo Soy Maxine!”

“But you used the name Max to book your room online.”

“But as you can see, I'm here, and while I did write Max online, I'm a Maxine.”

Jooheon can’t help but be nosey, stepping up to be next to the woman in her pretty summer dress, which now that he was up close, he could see was a pretty, glittery, champagne colour. “Is there a problem here?”

The lady turned, and Jooheon found himself looking into the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. He had to swallow thickly, reminding himself to pay attention when the beautiful girl opened her lips to speak, a flurry of angry words describing her conundrum exploding out of her a moment later. “There’s been a mistake, and now I'm booked for a communal room with a man for the next week because I put my name as Max and not Maxine in the online booking form.” 

“Hmm.” Jooheon nodded, unable to stop his own reaction, which only succeeded in making the woman in front of him more hysterical.

“Hmm?” The woman, Maxine, said, voice raising, “and what would you do if you found out you had to share a room with a woman then? Would that dampen your vacation?”

“I mean-” Jooheon found himself looking towards the hotel clerk for help, but the woman quickly averted her gaze, as if to say; ‘you walked into this, you’re on your own buddy’. 

“Is there no way we can fix this?”

“She said they’re all booked this week.” Maxine threw her hand up, only to allow it to land on the front desk, her delicate rings creating numerous little tinkling sounds at the contact on the wood.

“Well, if the guy you room with is a dick, you can always room with me- I mean, i’m in a communal room too, but the guy can’t be that bad.” Jooheon suggested, finding this to be the easiest answer, and one that would at least ensure the girl had a guardian, a protector, if she needed it.

Not that Maxine didn’t look like she could handle herself. In all honesty, Jooheon did not want to be on the other end of her stilettos shoe getting his balls caved in, because she definitely looked like the kind of girl that would know where to hit, and he doubted she’d hold back either.

“Name?”

“Lee Jooheon, uh, Jooheon Lee?” Now that it was him under the magnifying glass, Jooheon found himself not as confident. He had stumbled over his words and feelt the need to jump from his preferred way of last name first - as it was in Korea - to first name first, as it was in many of the places he’d visited.

The close proximity of a pretty girl, who in his periphery, he could see eying him, was only adding fuel to the fire, and Jooheon was suddenly very aware of the warmth of the hotel lobby. In shorts and a simple white t shirt, Jooheon felt exposed to the french girl, who, to be fair, was in an outfit much more revealing than his own- but now, Jooheon couldn’t even look at her pretty, daintym exposed shoulders, nor the way the front of her dress dipped just so-

It was funny how one small girl had sucked all the power from the room and was wielding it, like some Joan of Arc, while Jooheon and the hotel worker were left to simply scramble in her wake, searching for a solution - any solution - to tame the fire burning in the deep grassy green of Maxine’s eyes.

The hotel clerk quickly typed in Jooheon’s name, needing one spelling correction before hitting enter. Then her eyes lifted, and she looked between Jooheon and Maxine, “Well, this is a coincidence.”

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[ridreamir]

Heyo! How ya doin frend? I’ve been needing some soft stuff, so how about some Melli, Adaman, and Ingo with a reader that fairy types?

Hi hi, I've been existing, thank you for asking about my wellbeing ;;

I can do something soft and gentle that has to do with raising, caring for, and understanding the not well documented pseudo-mythical Fairy type in Hisui.

Back then, the fairy type had technically not been discovered, right? Given its lack of presence in the modern day-- so as a blanket categorization they're considered whimsical and mysterious creatures often confused with other typings? I could see each wielder listed above having an interest in fae and spirit like Pokemon themselves. I was unsure if you wanted these separated or not, but the imagines I wrote sort of include all three of them at the same time. (This takes place post-game.) If you'd like more of this or would prefer me to focus on a specific aspect of anything written here, just send out a request and I'll oblige!

.

.

Given your express abundance of free time and penchant for getting involved with strange plots and creatures beyond current understanding, you've become the go-to researcher of the strange and mysterious fae creatures that are notoriously the most difficult to document given their reclusive, distrustful, independent natures.

Living semi-nomadically, your expeditions sometimes stretch the length of months, which has made you nearly as elusive as the Pokemon you've come to document. You might pass through a clan settlement or budding village on rare occasions, particularly for festivals. Often times you and your companions are celebrated through merry drink and cheers as well as traditional dance, and the people have even gone as far as to put up a statue combining the two "Almighty Sinnohs" as a permanent and everlasting symbol of union amongst all inhabitants of the land. You've expressed that you'd rather not be celebrated as anything that you weren't, so most times tales of your deeds were left vague and photos or portraits of you were scarce. But still, the people remembered who you were and that was far more than enough for you.

Outside of that, however, your lifestyle of choice even means living amongst pods of wild Pokemon at times-- eating and sleeping beside them. In order to really understand their behaviors, this is crucial to your work, though a lot of it is more a personal matter.

If anything, the only reason you still survey at the end of the day is more to repay the Galaxy Team for providing you living quarters, despite your patchy past. Otherwise, your work of choice is simply for your own enjoyment as you hardly accept requests or guided missions anymore. The secret to your unprecedented success is that you naturally bond well with the creatures of the wild, including the fae and spirits that hail from different planes of existence. Paired with the Massive Mass Outbreak phenomena which have only slightly died down in more recent years, the local populations of fae have been unprecedentedly high as more and more have come out of hiding, compelled by the strange storms. The only fae creature you currently keep in your residence that's not native to Hisui would be the Keokeo placed in your care by an Alolan migrant a while back. In recent news, a library has been established within the Village, largely in part of anonymous donations and your own contributions, information has become easy to keep record of as well as relatively more common access, though restrictions are still limited to members of the Galaxy Team and the few scholars who've traveled abroad in more recent years. Now that your mind had dwelled back to the Village of Jubilife, your thoughts wandered to Ingo. He'd been doing well for himself last you heard, given his creation of the trainer school. He was still longing for home, and in large hoping to return when the time was right, but he's decided to stay for the time being, having a sense of belonging in these lands. He's still Warden to Sneasler, and she's ever so tenacious, always shredding his replacement sets of both his signature hat and coat to the point he has to order new ones every few months. It's not all her doing though, now that she's had a brood of heirs that are just as eager to use him as a scratching post, something you once got to witness for yourself during an accidental run-in that took place in the Highlands. Ingo is much like you, in fact one could argue he's the most like you out of everyone who wields Pokemon in battle. He's got an impressive collection of companions himself, amongst them you've met a Togekiss with reverted colors as if someone had taken the reflection of a normal Togekiss and made it slightly off-color.

Many if not all of his Pokemon are competitive-worthy, and they've given you quite the run for your money a few times. Speaking of the Highlands, Melli's still there as well, tending to Electrode and the many Voltorb that make their home in the Celestica people's ruins. He's still completely full of himself, but he's grown in a way that as much as he's still quite the living reminder of the past, he's also uniquely new and charming in a way that only time could have allowed to develop. Though Clefairy are common in his area, he's often one to spout off about how he's just as good as you when it comes to finding the fae of the region. He's always picking fights and looking for a competition, always fishing for praise and recognition to whatever tourist or passerby comes to visit his new off-shooting village. Adaman let him take charge of the settlement, a decision that a few questioned at first, but Adaman himself has proven to have grown into a wonderful and strong leader, and no one could agree more than you that time has been wonderfully kind to him. He's really quite grown into himself nicely, and he's less spacey these days ironically. Sometimes he'll send out feelers using couriers that scour the various lands trying to follow leads as to your whereabouts, but it's rare that they reach you. He still tries anyway though it's proven widely ineffective given you sometimes even spend time in entirely different dimensional pockets. That is, you still explore the ever-fading Space-Time Distortions, looking for leads as to how to safely travel between Time and Space, not only for yourself but for your fellow stranded dimensional interloper as well. You still have not forgotten your promise to him, and you will walk the ends of the Earth before you even consider giving up. The question of travel has surfaced from time to time, now that Irida was off seeing the world herself. You haven't completely written it off, but you've been reluctant to leave the lands you've grown so fond of.

If that ever did happen, Adaman has expressed his interest in joining you for some time now that the people are less reliant on the old protectors of the region, and Ingo also agreed that his place would always be at your side for as long as you remained in this world. And, well, Melli would force his way along, attaching himself to both yours and Adaman's hips just as he's always done. As for why you haven't quite succeeded yet despite all of your continuous research, Arceus has made it clear that this is a mission it and its children will not directly assist you in, as once again you must prove your merit, even though you are under their protection forever and always. Though, it has hinted that the answer may not itself lie in Hisui, a lead you've been putting off making a definite decision on following out of wanting to stay just a little longer. The Lake Spirits have been fickle in this aspect as well, as they retain some amount of free will, yet are still obviously under the command and guidance of their creator and master. You're aware that the time you'll be forced to move on to more distant lands is fast approaching, but you try to savor the moments you still have, and cherish the very fond memories you have made alongside many friends in this land of Hisui.

[dwellordream]

“...First, let’s talk about materials. We can rule out a Steppe Nomad inspiration for any of this right off. The Eurasian Steppe is very large and covers a range of arid climates (that is to say, parts of it are colder, parts of it are warmer), but they all have spinning and weaving technology, by which the supple hairs of woolly animals, or plant fibers like linen, or cotton, or even natural protein fibers like silk can be fashioned into fabric which is more flexible, comfortable, breathable and temperature controlled than the raw leather we see in the show.

...there is a distinct lack here of lots of leather, except in the sort of things that lots of cultures use leather for (boots, fittings, saddles, bags, tents). Instead, clothing is mostly made out of nice, comfortable, breathable textiles, because of course it is. That is not to say, to be clear, that leather or hides or fur were never used – fur especially was used; merely that they were generally used to supplement clothing primarily made out of textile.

...Now Plains Native American clothing does make much greater use of animal skin as a clothing material, but there is an important distinction to be made here. The problem here is with the plasticity of the term ‘leather’ which can technically include a wide range of products, but in practice is understood to mean exactly what the Game of Thrones costume department and literally every piece of official artwork of the Dothraki understand it to mean, which is the product of tanning processes.

I am not an expert, but as far as I can tell, Native American clothing was not made in the same way; animal products were used in a process I have seen described as ‘brain tanning’ (rather than using chemical tannins) and the final product was then smoked. The result – which is often called ‘buckskin’ regardless of the animal source for the hide – is very different from the leather we see in the show.

This is, in terms of material, very clearly not what the ‘vests’ the Dothraki in the show are wearing. Buckskin would also be used to make trousers, as opposed to the “horsehair leggings” of Martin’s wording, which also strike me as deeply improbable. Haircloth – fabric made from horsehair (or camel hair) – is durable, but typically stiff, unsupple and terribly itchy; not something you want in direct contact with your skin (especially not between your rear end and a saddle), unless you just really like skin irritation. It is also a difficult material to get in any kind of significant quantity – and you would need a significant quantity if you intended to make most of your trousers out of it.

...Well that’s for materials, what about patterns? Once again, we can quite easily rule out anything steppe inspired. Again, the Eurasian Steppe is big and has lots of variety, but relatively long robes are generally the norm in terms of dress; where long robes were not worn (see our Scythian above), the common pattern was heavy sleeved garments and trousers with very complete coverage. A common example of the type of long robe-like garments is the Mongolian deel, a long sleeved robe or tunic which provides a lot of protection against the elements. In the case of elites – and Daenerys is, initially, mostly around elites – these could be made of expensive silk or brocade – but poorer versions might be made of wool.

...And there is good reason for these relatively high-coverage garments. Plains or Steppe peoples naturally tend to live on, well, plains and steppes – that is large expanses of semi-arid grasslands. The very nature of that terrain configuration produces fairly extreme seasonal temperature variations (that is, very hot summers and very cold winters) as well as extreme daily temperature variations (that is, hot days and cold nights) because such places are far from large bodies of water and also don’t have tree-cover, both of which serve to moderate rapid temperature changes.

Consequently, as anyone who has lived in a plains state in the USA (or on the Eurasian Steppe, though that is fewer of my readers, but for my brave handful of hits from that part of the world, hello and welcome!) can tell you, you need clothes that can be layered and which can be both warm in the winter and cool in the summer. For us moderns, we mostly do this by owning multiple season-specific wardrobes, but clothing is expensive in pre-modern societies, so multi-purpose garments, or garments that be layered, to turn a warm-weather outfit into a cold-weather outfit are important!

There’s no reason to suppose the Dothraki Sea would be any different: it sits at about the same latitude as King’s Landing so there is little reason to assume it would be warm all-year-round. Parts of the Eurasian Steppe stretch decently far south, sharing a latitude with northern Italy and Spain; nevertheless they do not enjoy the same Mediterranean climate because they don’t have the same exposure to the weather patterns created by the sea. The southern end of the Great Plains stretches down all the way into Texas, but still gets properly cold in the winter with temperatures regularly dipping below freezing in the winter despite the latitude. For a people who are camping and working outside all of the time, warm clothing is going to be a must.

...There is tremendous variety here, but I don’t think any of it could be aptly described simply as “Men and women alike wore painted leather vests over bare chests and horsehair leggings.” Now, if you looked hard enough could you find something that resembled Martin’s leather vests, bare chests and horsehair leggings somewhere in the clothing of Native Americans across two continents? Probably, but among the specific Native peoples that Martin cites as inspiration, it does not seem to be at all common. And if that description was wholly unconnected to anything in the real world, we might well stop there and conclude that, well this is just the ‘dash of pure fantasy’ that Martin was talking about (although as we’ll see, it is going to be quite a bit more than just a dash). But I don’t think we can stop there, because (removing the medallion belts) Martin’s description does adequately describe something that exists in the real world: Halloween costumes purporting to depict Native Americans.

...The vest-and-pants style of Native American Halloween costume seems to be rather rare now, but it was, at least to my memory, much more common in the 1990s, when A Game of Thrones was written (initial publication date of 1996). You can see them, for instance, on many of the background extras in the famous Thanksgiving scene from Addams Family Values (1993) and that vest style was also a part of the outfit for the also-quite-unfortunately-branded YMCA Indian Guides/Indian Princesses program (rebranded as the ‘Adventure Guides’ in 2003 after decades of Native Americans complaining about it) which was also fairly popular in the 1990s.

Now, I am not saying that Martin planned to construct his Dothraki out of Native American stereotypes and bad Halloween costumes. In fact, I am fairly confident he intended nothing of the sort. But in the absence of doing some effective research (and it is going to become increasingly apparent that at least effective research was not done) there was quite possibly nothing else to inform the effort other than what was ‘in the air’ of the popular consciousness. Of course the danger of those often simplistic public stereotypes is that people often do not know that they have them, assuming instead that the vague impression they have is essentially accurate (or at least, close enough for a regular person). And that’s a real problem because it reinforces the popular stereotype, especially given Martin’s reputation for writing more ‘historically grounded’ fiction. And that is a problem because…

The clothing that the Dothraki are described and visually shown wearing is clearly intended to convey things about their society. Returning to our visual comparison above, it is easy to see that the actual clothing of both Eurasian and American ‘horse cultures’ was often bright, highly decorated and generally eye-catching, featuring complex patterns and shapes. It was both nice looking, but also spoke to the humanity of the people that made it and their very human desire to look nice and have nice looking things. By contrast, the clothing of the Dothraki is presented as simple, rugged and unadorned.

...I want to stress this to make the point clear: people in the past liked to look nice! Much of the popular perception of pre-modern clothing assumes lots of dull, drab colors, undecorated or merely adorned with rough pelts, but this is almost entirely a Hollywood construction. The Romans didn’t exclusively dress in white (indeed, the toga candida, the white toga, was an unusually formal thing to wear, like a politician’s suit-with-flag-pin), medieval peasants didn’t wear drab brown (they dressed in bright primary colors mostly), and as I hope the historical pictures for this essay show, both steppe nomads and Plains Native Americans wore nice clothing with lots of patterns, color and decoration. These men next to Khal Drogo are his elite guard of ‘bloodriders,’ the companions of a ruler who wields tremendous power and wealth! And yet they have opted to wear mostly undecorated bland brown leather.

Just to underline this point, think about what a fine set of clothing communicates to an observer (for instance, one of Khal Drogo’s thousands of mounted warrior retainers who are present at this event). Imported goods, like metalwares (which nomads won’t generally be able to make themselves) or fine imported fabrics demonstrate not only trade contacts but also often that the leader has useful ties to foreign leaders (since such things were often gifts or tribute from foreign courts). Garments whose production, due to fine patterns, complex weaves, intricate beading or quillwork, would take many, many hours of production demonstrate that the leader has a lot of subordinate people in their household (in many cases, that would mean women), which both implies the ability to give these people as gifts (either in marriage or because of their non-free status) and also the access to resources (in this case herds of animals) needed to sustain so many people – in short, the sort of leader who can reward faithful warriors richly.

And of course a leader who outfits his closest retainers – his bloodriders, in this case – with such wares (especially expensive foreign metal military equipment) demonstrates both access to military capital and also the ability to reward his trusted lieutenants. In short, the Khal whose person and immediate retainers are decked out in finery looks like backing the winning side, which is a very important thing to assess as one of his warriors. So even if not one of Drogo’s men cares about their personal appearance at all, it is still politically important for them to dress for success.

Which then demands the question, looking at the very fine clothing of historical horse cultures that supposedly provided the inspiration for these Dothraki fellows: Where is the exquisite bead work? The fine quillwork? Where are the carefully made fringes? Where is the silk brocade? Where are the detailed, complex patterns?”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part I: Barbarian Couture.”

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 8 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Things might be starting to come together this week! Let me know your predictions.

This chapter talks extremely briefly and ambiguously of Emma not exactly wanting to have sex with Neal. Also, there is a discussion of Killian’s semi-violent past. Nothing is detailed, but let me know if you need more information or anything!! 

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~~~~

The days turn into weeks, although Emma can’t help but feel as though time is dragging her along mercilessly. Nothing has changed since she found out about Neal, how he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys. Nothing, aside from her feelings of safety and security, of confidence in her relationship, being completely shattered. 

 Every night, she fights off the desperation to walk across the hall and join Killian in his bed, letting his strong arms consume her and blanket her with a sense of ease and contentment. Every night, she fights with herself as she crawls into bed with Neal, a man she thought she loved, and forces herself to put on an act of affection towards him. She forces herself to lie back and accept his convoluted attempts at showing her that he loves her, knowing that he couldn’t possibly. If he loved her, he would never have lied to her. If he loves her, he would let her go. 

 She also fights with herself through the anger she feels, directed inward rather than at anyone else. Sure, she’s mad at Neal for what he’s done, what he’s putting her through, but at the end of the day, she’s the fool to let herself be put in this position. It’s her fault. She should have seen through his lies from the moment she met him, but she was too desperate for love and family and acceptance. He knew that, too, and he exploited her weaknesses like she meant nothing to him. 

 It drives her mad to not know what he’s after. She’s hardly the most skilled person at finding people who don’t want to be found, so why he feels the need to target her specifically, she can’t say. It could be argued that, in some perplexing, psychotic way, he thinks he loves her, but she knows now that this isn’t love. It can’t be. 

 Lying at his side, wide awake through her inability to sleep, she can’t seem to shut her mind off. Each time she closes her eyes, she feels terror at the memories burned behind her lids. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Neal on top of her, despite her resolve to squeeze her eyes shut each time he decides he wants to be with her. Usually, she’s able to go to another place, letting thoughts of the beach or her happy future serve as a distraction of her fear, but sometimes she can’t ignore the feeling of his rough fingertips burning her skin. 

Sometimes, when she’s in Neal’s arms and struggling to get past the feelings that come along with being with him, she thinks of Killian. Not necessarily in a way of longing for him-- not because she wishes she was with him instead, although she can only assume it would be more pleasurable-- but because of the comfort that he always brings her. Being with him is like being embraced by warmth and safety itself. It’s like the rest of the world turns off, and all that’s on her mind is the soothing way his arms wrap around her and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. She doesn’t have to worry when she’s with him. She only has to think about how good it feels to be in his arms. 

 And she’s noticed his physique, too. It would be difficult not to. She noticed that first night, when he lifted his sweatshirt off and pulled his t-shirt up with it. She noticed the other day when he visited her in her cave of an office, leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, muscles bulging out of his sleeves and a tempting smirk coloring his lips as he teased her over the dinosaur of a computer she was working on. She notices the way he looks with almost everything he does, and she knows it's a dangerous game that she’s playing. 

 It’s not like she never found Neal attractive. But knowing what she knows now, she can’t help but to feel slightly nauseated every time she sees his face. She’s got to get out of this. 

 ~~~~

 “Since you did such a good job with the last one, I have another little task for you,” Peter says, his voice teasing and his smirk unsettling. 

 Emma works hard to maintain her composure as she sits straight up in her seat, one she was finally awarded after weeks of standing awkwardly before the group sat at the table. Today, when she walked into the daunting conference room, Peter invited her to sit beside him, beside Neal, and has been leaning towards her in a way that she knows is meant to appear polite, but holds a threatening undertone.

 “Okay,” she agrees, trying to make her voice sound confident and fighting off the fear that never seems to go away. 

 He turns from her to Neal and remarks, “she really has begun to come into her own, hasn’t she?” 

 “I guess,” he shrugs, and a part of her feels offended at his nonchalance. Despite her strong desire to be anywhere but here, she thinks she’s done a pretty nice job of trying to fit in. Ever since Gold spilled the beans a few weeks ago about Neal’s status in the club, she’s held it together fairly well on the outside, with the exception of her initial breakdown. 

 There’s only one person she truly feels comfortable breaking down in front of. Only one person who she really trusts. 

 She hasn’t told Neal that she's found out his true identity. She and Killian have talked about it at length, sometimes able to spend time alone together especially when Neal leaves, and they’ve agreed that it’s for the best to keep her discovery under wraps. Gold’s subtle drop that Neal is his son and brother to Peter was purposeful, and she can’t let him come out on top. She knows, she’s terrified, but she’ll maintain her composure. For whatever reason, Neal doesn’t want her to know, so she’ll keep playing dumb. 

 “Who do you want me to find?” she asks, wanting nothing more than to prevent Neal from saying anything else casually offensive. His small digs at her serve a purpose, she now knows; to bring her down as far and as quietly as he can. 

 “This one may be a bit more of a challenge; a member from a rival gang. While Graham was more of a nomad, this man has ties to the Kings of Elsinore and is better protected. I want you to find out everything you can on him.” 

 “Okay,” she nods assuredly. “Well, I'll take whatever you have on him and get to work, then.” 

 Before she can move from her seat, Peter’s hand is on her wrist, oppressively holding her still. “Not so fast. There’s someone I’d like you to officially meet. Call in Hook.” 

 A man Neal knows, Walsh, she thinks, stands from his chair and walks towards the door, summoning someone inside. She has to stop her jaw from hitting the floor when she sees who. 

 “You two seem to have met casually, but I’d like you to officially meet Killian Jones. He’s gotten himself into a touch of trouble and, as punishment, will be helping you with whatever you need until this man is located.” 

 She gulps, anxiety setting in again despite how hard she’s been trying to keep it at bay. She promised herself she would be strong, refusing to let them get to her, to let them see her squirm. She will keep her promise to herself. “Okay,” she murmurs, forcing herself to peel her gaze from Killian’s. She can’t help but wonder what he’s done to get into trouble with Peter. She selfishly hopes they weren’t caught without her knowledge. 

 ~~~~

 “What happened?” she begs desperately once the door to her small office is shut, Killian ushering her into the room before practically slamming it. “What are you in trouble for? Killian, please tell me they don’t--” 

 “Nothing like that,” he hisses, stepping towards her. With a soft, gentle voice only just above a whisper, he says, “love, you have to stay calm. You did phenomenally pretending we don’t know each other well, but we have to keep up the ruse.” 

 “Sorry,” she whispers. “I know, I just… what happened?”

 “Nothing, love, I promise. I only refused to go on a trip with them last week and Peter feared I wasn’t dedicated to the club’s cause.” 

 “You did?” she asks in surprise. When Neal told her that he wasn’t dedicated, she forced herself to believe him. When Killian says it, she doesn't even consider doubting him. 

 “Aye. Told them I had pressing matters to attend to.” 

 She cocks her head suspiciously and asks, “what were the pressing matters?” 

 “The Mummy Returns was on TV, remember? We watched it together.” 

 She can’t help the smile that breaks across her face, a snort escaping her throat despite her best efforts as she shakes her head and feels a blush creeping up her neck and pinkening her cheeks. “You’re dumb,” she says, and she feels like a child in a playground with a school crush. 

 “Well,” he shrugs, giving her a beaming smile. “Here, love. I’ve got the information we have so far. Time to start digging.” 

 A part of her almost wants to take her time, content to sit in the small office with Killian sitting beside her for quite some time. No one would suspect a thing, what with Peter already telling her that this guy would be harder to find; it’s the perfect excuse to soak in all of the comfort and happiness that Killian brings her despite her circumstances. But she knows they have to keep up appearances so as to avoid being caught in their elicit friendship, so she’ll work at a normal pace and hope no one notices that her smile is genuine rather than the forced one she gives Neal. 

 James Spencer is certainly a hard man to find. If she didn’t already know that he was linked to the Kings of Elsinore, she would be lost, as the man seems entirely enigmatic in nature. He seems like a ghost, her research pointing her absolutely nowhere, but Peter insists that he’s got ties to this rival club, despite her finding no evidence to support his claim. 

 She groans after a few hours, dropping her head to the desk as Killian continues to bounce a tennis ball off the wall in his boredom. It certainly is a punishment for him; the fact that he has to sit here and watch her find nothing is likely eating him alive. “It’s only been a few hours, love, you’ll find something soon,” he tries to console. Her frustration wins out, though. 

 “This is stupid.”

 “Aye.”

 “Are all of these stupid gangs this hard to navigate around?” 

 “Aye, I'd assume so. Although, I've never been a bounty hunter.” 

 She rolls her eyes, picking her head up and glaring. “I wasn’t a bounty hunter. I was a bail bondsperson.” 

 “That’s different?” 

 She holds her hands out, requesting the ball from him and catching it when he tosses it, only to throw it back at him with too much aggression. He yelps and laughs at her too loudly, and she can’t help but smile in response. She settles back into her chair after the short reprieve and sighs. 

 “How can I find someone who doesn’t want to be found if I know absolutely nothing about the environment he lives in?” 

 He hums in agreement, nodding and remarking, “you need an inside man.” 

 “No, I just need to know how a fucking motorcycle gang works,” she grumbles. It’s been a confusing few weeks, and she realizes that, while she’s gotten a few small bits of information, she still has no idea what the club’s actual purpose is. “Like… why even bother having one?” 

 He gives her a soft smile, standing from his chair and dragging it closer to her. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?” 

 “What?” she asks indignantly, giving him a look that she seriously hopes conveys how annoyed she is. 

 “Your little tantrum, love,” he teases. “Is it really about not knowing enough about how gangs work? Or is it, perhaps, more about your need to know everything about a situation in order to convince yourself that you’re safe?” 

 With another glare shot his way, she drops her jaw in surprise and shakes her head. “What the hell do you know?” 

 He smirks. “I know a lot more than you think. You’re a bit of an open book, love. And I’ve known you long enough now.” 

 “To what, psychoanalyze me?” 

 “I may have considered studying psychology, had I gone to university,” he laughs. “I know you’re scared, and I'm beginning to realize that not knowing what’s going to happen, or what’s happening without you knowing, is probably feeding that fear.”

 With another heaving sigh, she drops her head back down, resting it on her arms and nodding. “You’re right,” she concedes, although part of her wishes he wasn’t. It’s true, though, being so in the dark about everything is making her feel weak. 

 His hand lands on her shoulder, staying there for a moment before he gently and slowly scratches his fingertips against her skin and pulls away. “I can tell you what I know, if that’ll help.” 

 She perks up, lifting her head and recalling a conversation from weeks ago in which he told her that his brother was an influential member of the club. “Yes,” she says, and why she didn’t think to ask earlier, she doesn’t know. 

 He gives her a nod and another one of his encouraging smiles, the one that always makes her heart skip a beat, and clears his throat. “What I know is that Neal is older, but Peter is in charge. From what I gather, and I was never privy to much, Neal went off on his own for a while and Peter took over everything. Gold’s always seemed a bit more… hesitant around Peter, but I almost suspect that he favors Neal. Either way, Peter was running things behind the scenes for quite some time before Neal left. When he came back, it was with you on his arm and with Peter happily leading, refusing to give up his spot. No one argued with him.”

 She nods, but it doesn’t tell her much. She’s always known that Neal is more of a follower, happy to do whatever he can to impress his friends. The fact that he willingly gave up what seems to be his birthright doesn’t really surprise her. 

 “So what are they doing when they go away on their trips?”

 “Usually seeking out merchandise. They deal in stolen goods, mostly watches and the like. Typically, a trip is a heist of some kind. A jewelry store, antique shop… sometimes even banks with safe deposit boxes.” 

 Emma looks down to her own wrist, Killian’s gaze following closely behind, and notes the watch she wears. The one that Neal gave her after one of his trips. She shudders and moves to take it off. 

 His hand stops her, looking into her eyes deeply and shaking his head. “Keep it,” he murmurs. “We can’t let them know that you know any of this.”

 “Why?” she asks in a whisper. “Why is it so bad if I know?”

 “I don’t know,” he shakes his head again. “But if Neal hasn’t told you, there’s a reason for it.”

 She nods in understanding, letting her heart rate slow as his hand remains on her wrist, moving down to the top of her hand. She wants to wrap her fingers around his, but she knows she shouldn’t. “Can I ask something about you?”

 “Of course.”

 “Why do they call you Hook?”

 His eyes drop from hers, glancing down at their joined hands, and she watches his brows knit together tightly. She feels his grip on her hand tighten, and despite both of them knowing it’s a bad idea, his fingers weave with hers and he squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. 

 “There are things about my past that… that when I think about telling you, I become…” he sighs, unable to finish his thought. 

 “Killian,” she whispers, “I already know you’re in a gang. Can it really be that bad?”

 “Aye,” he answers immediately, his eyes meeting her own in a desperate attempt to convey to her something she can’t quite read. “I’m not… a good man.”

 “Of course you are.”

 “No. Maybe I’ve never thrown knives at a woman I’m supposed to love, but I’ve certainly… I mean…”

 “Killian.” Her grip on his hand, the one she should release, tightens. “Whatever happened… you’re not that person. You’re good. I know bad people and I pegged you as good the second I saw you.”

 It’s as if he can’t meet her gaze, too ashamed of whatever it is that he’s done. Too fearful of what will happen if she finds out. He witnessed her finding out that Neal has been lying to her, and she wonders if he fears a similar response now. 

 “I don’t-- it’s silly,” he laughs. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

 “You can’t,” she whispers. After everything he’s done for her, everything he plans to do for her, he could never disappoint her. 

 He sighs, squeezing her hand once more before turning it over in his and drawing a line across her palm. “I was a-- an angry lad growing up. My father abandoned us, my mother died. I found myself seeking release. Ways to get my anger out. I was never taught anything productive.” 

 She stays quiet, letting him open up to her on his own terms and distract himself by tracing the lines in her palms. “I came here at fifteen. Gold recruited me for… well, to put my anger to good use, in his eyes. He used me-- he’s always been good at picking out someone’s weakness and exploiting it. Whenever he needed information out of someone, he would bring me along and I would…” he sighs again, taking a deep and grounding breath. “I had a favorite weapon,” he mumbles. 

 With a nod, she tries to stay calm, tries not to let fear overtake her. She was fearful of Neal when he held the knives and smirked at her, and of Peter when he pressed the tip of the blade to his finger and smiled. But when she presses her hand to Killian’s cheek and makes him look up at her, she feels no fear. She sees only truth and regret and a longing to be a different person. 

 “It was a hook?” she asks for clarification, but she can see the answer in his eyes. 

 “From Gold’s boat,” he croaks. “That’s usually where we would take… the people we were interrogating. But, Emma, it’s been years. Liam found out and put an end to it. I think that’s--”

 “What?” she asks gently as he cuts himself off, shaking his head painfully. 

 “I think that’s when things started going poorly for him.”

 He’s done so much for her. He’s soothed every ounce of pain she’s felt since she got here, since Neal sliced her cheek and he touched it tenderly. He held her together as she cried harder than she ever had before. He’s vowed to see her out of this danger despite the predicament it puts him in. And still, she feels powerless to help him. He’s sitting before her, broken and in anguish, and she can’t heal him like he has her. 

 All she can do is take his cheeks in her hands and promise him, “that was not your fault.”

 “Emma,” he breathes, his eyes pleading with her, for what, she isn’t sure. “He… he kept insisting I stay out of it. He kept holding me back, refusing to let me go, putting up a fight… I think they got tired of it, eventually. Of someone constantly questioning them and going against their word. He’d still be here if I hadn’t--”

 “No. You had no hand in what happened to Liam. And when this is all over, you’re gonna be able to leave too.”

 It’s bold of her to assume that it’s something he wants. He’s told her plenty of times that he wants to help her escape, but he’s never mentioned a desire to leave himself. It’s bold of her to assume that that’s in his best interest. But when she looks at the sadness and regret in his eyes, a part of her knows that it must be. 

 “I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment of silence, and she lets him cast his gaze downwards again. “I should have--” 

 “It’s okay, Killian. The things you’ve done in the past don’t reflect who you are now.”

 “Of course they do,” he nearly spits, clearly angry with himself as he pulls away and throws his head back. “I was a monster then. How can you not think of me as a monster now? I’m no better than Neal or Peter.” 

 “Don’t say that. Peter would probably do something like that now if he wanted to. Would you?” She lets her voice rise just the slightest amount, feeling more intensity than before and finding it necessary to convey to him that she doesn’t see him as a monster. 

 “Of course not.” 

 “And Neal… don’t even get me started. He nearly pulled his gun on me last week because I asked him where he was going. Would you do that?” 

 “Emma,” he says softly, finally looking at her once more, and she knows what he’s thinking. She knows he wants her out of his apartment; out of his life. 

 “You’re not a bad person,” she whispers, leaning closer to him just as he sits forward again, and they’re so close that she can feel his breath warming her nose. “I know bad people. You don’t qualify.” 

 He nods, his eyes deep and soulful as they bore into hers, and says, “I want to be a good person for you.” 

 No one has ever spoken to her like this. No one has ever expressed such a definitive desire to be worthy of her. No one has ever been so close to her and not made her instinctively want to pull away. And when she sees his eyes fluttering shut, his lashes touching his cheeks and casting long shadows in the dingy light, she wants to lean closer.

 She almost does, too, is tempted to close her eyes like he has and touch her lips to his, but there's a swift knock on the door and they spring apart so quickly that she kicks his shin, causing him to bend and silently groan. She cringes in apology as she jiggles the mouse to her computer, begging it to wake up before the knocker enters the room. 

 “Any luck?” Gold asks as he pokes his head in. 

 “None so far,” Killian answers easily, his persona shifting effortlessly and maintaining their cover. “Swan’s searching high and low, but we don’t know much about Spencer’s tactics yet.” 

 “And Hook’s been a help to you, Miss Swan?”

 “Yes,” she smiles, fighting the urge to lunge out of her chair and wring his neck for the name he’s given Killian and his insistence to still use it despite his obvious discomfort. 

 “It’s clear already that you have the club’s future in mind; I'm sure you’ll find something soon enough.” 

 She nods, staring as he walks away and cocking her head in confusion. “So weird,” she says softly once he’s gone, trying to remain quiet as he’d left the door ajar. 

 “What?”

 “That’s the second time he’s mentioned the club’s future, specifically. What does me finding this James Spencer have to do with the future of the club?”

 His response is a shake of his head, a slight roll to his eyes before he stills suddenly. His eyes widen as he looks down, then his brows knit together in thought, and she can clearly see the cogs turning in his mind. It’s like she’s watching him have an epiphany in real time. He looks up at her once, urgently, then he snaps out of it as if he’s remembering where he is, his demeanor shifting entirely as he smiles. “I’m not sure. The old man never makes any sense.” 

 “Killian…?” 

 “I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’ll just keep working on finding Spencer, alright? There’s no need to worry.” 

 For a brief second, she feels distrustful of him. It’s reminiscent of when Neal tells her not to worry about things that she couldn’t possibly understand. It’s like he knows something, but he doesn’t think she's capable of handling the truth of whatever it is. For a brief, fleeting second, she doubts him. 

 But she can’t let herself think like that. Neal lies to her to protect himself. Killian has been nothing but honest with her, wanting nothing but her safety. Truthfully, if whatever he’s discovered is bad enough that he doesn’t want to tell her about it, she isn’t sure she wants to know. 

~~~~

~~~~

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[vodkaskys]

We've Come Too Far

FANFIC REC: COMFORTABLE PLACE

 I could take you anywhere (louis takes his daughter to build a bear and harry tries hard to make his experience incredible) (2k)

The wonderful part of the mess that we've made (louis is a popular youtuber and he gets his boyfriend harry to agree to do a boyfriend tag video) (3k)

 But It's Getting Closer between me and you (Harry moves into the house next to Louis, and their rooms are across from each other with almost conjoined roofs.) (3k)

 When the sun don't shine we lose our mind (harry goes to a beach party one night not sure of what to expect and he ends up meeting louis, the brunette boy with blue eyes who teaches him how to properly live.) (4k)

Something as simple as this (louis goes to danny's diner every weekend and on one particular day, a new brunette boy appears behind the counter. they go on a date to the fair and it's like nothing either of them could have expected.) (5k)

Harry styles and the notecards (louis and zayn visit a certain cafe a lot and when louis takes a particular interest in the new worker, he ends up with all he's ever dreamed of.) (3k)

I just wanna make you smile (louis takes his daughter to the doctor's office. the doctor they get is young and tells dumb jokes and louis really likes him.) (3k)

Speak to Me With Only Your Eyes (Louis finds Harry crying in the rain) (2k)

A fantasy, taking over like a disease (louis is thirty and can't be bothered to enjoy a nine hour flight from la to london. he gets stuck sitting next to harry; a semi-famous twenty year old who's ability to make everything seem more enjoyable truly baffles louis.) (5k)

It's hard to forget (when there's a new curly haired boy in his class, louis decides he wants to be his friend. they become the kings of the playground.) (2k)

Chasing after your restless heart (louis is pining over the curly-haired check out boy, so him and zayn create a plan to gain his interest.) (4k)

We've Come Too Far ( the one where Harry has had a crush on Radio 1 DJ Greg James for years before he finally has the chance to meet him. What he didn't take into account was the beautiful intern that just might overshadow Harry's interest in Greg.) (14k)

Your Best Line Ever (University AU, in which Harry has a terrible job and lies about his name to drunk people, Louis is one of the drunk and has to move out of his flat, Liam shaves his hair because he fights with Zayn, Zayn protects Liam from creepy stalkers and Niall always has a solution, because he knows just about every person relevant!) (55k)

Your Best Line Ever(Traducción) 

My Boy, I Love You More Tomorrow Than I Did Today ( The one where Louis is way too in love with his boy.) (4k)

My Boy, I Love You More Tomorrow Than I Did Today(Traducción) 

Always moving forward and not looking back (harry works at a flower shop and louis literally scrapes his knee falling for him.) (3k)

I swear to god i've seen it all (harry and louis wake up one morning to find out that they've switched personalities) (2k)

Validation ( the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.) (3k)

Infinity in always  ( In which Louis suffers from prosopagnosia; he can’t recognize faces, even familiar ones. He can’t remember his own face, let alone Harry’s, but he remembers the way his skin feels under his fingertips, how he trembles under his touch as if Louis is fire, and Harry is nothing but mere paper, disintegrating into ash) (22k)

Infinity in always (Traducción) 

Space Oddity (Louis' blessed with the inconvenience of getting his neighbor's mail. It works out really well for the both of them.) (14k)

Space Oddity(Traducción) 

Finding Lou (Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.) (60k)

Finding Lou(Traducción) 

The first meal is free (Harry works at a restaurant. Louis comes in one night after work.) (3k)

The first meal is free(Traducción) 

Him ( harry falls in love with louis without even seeing his face.) (10k)

You're the Light (Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper and staying with his old college roommate. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss.) (31k)

You're the Light(Traducción) 

After Hours (Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.) (26k)

Wisdom teeth  ( A Louis le acaban de sacar las muelas del juicio. Harry es quien lo cuida.) 

 Girl crush  (Harry tiene un crush. Todos lo saben. Aunque... )

Us army ( 20 semanas sin Harry.)

Twenty strangers  (  Harry y Louis no se conocen, pero tienen un amigo en común; Zayn Malik, un ambicioso estudiante de cine dispuesto a conseguir el mejor video jamás creado, incluso si eso significa someter a sus dos amigos a un atrevido experimento social.)

Him (en donde harry habla sobre el chico que duerme en sus brazos. )

Cookie boy  (Una historia corta sobre Harry, quien lleva galletas recién horneadas a la escuela todos los días y Louis, que siempre toma dos.) 

folding corners (memberships are a scam, but louis can't seem to say no.) (7k)

Naked and proud In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. (18K)

Strange trails ("I took a little journey to the unknown, and I've come back changed I can feel it in my bones.") (4K)

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[barbecuebabybackribs]

Truly Damned (Male Angel-Demon Hybrid Reader x Jasper Hale)

Dating Jasper Hale was many things, the first thing that comes to mind is heavenly- although incredibly ironic- but one of the other thing I would say it was is difficult.

He’s a man who never has to ask what someones feeling, he just knows. So obviously when I walked in- not only his mate but the one person in his long life he’d ever met whom he couldn’t read? His interest was peaked to say the least.

Question after question, trying to find out why exactly I was immune to all vampiric powers, not only that but my scent was something he’d never smelt before, so heavenly but so easy to resist. With most humans he struggled to not bite down on there neck every  second he’s around them but not me, and he wants to know why.

Although that precise question is why I’m avoiding him now, trying to slowly make him realize he deserves so much better then a damned creature like me. I go against almost every religious text I’ve ever read- if they even bother to mention my kind at all.

A being born from the forbidden relations of a demon and an angel- it complicated my life to say the least.

Fortunately I was adopted at the mere age of three by a lovely older couple by the names Roxanne Seever and Delilah Seever, they didn’t know who I was or what I was but they loved me for me and that was enough.

However it didn’t last long, good things around me always seems to perish and Roxy was one of them- it all happened so quickly I could’ve done something but I just sat in shock as a semi headed right for our car, squeezed my eyes shut not wanting to witness what was about to happen and right when I heard the sounds of metal against metal and glass shattering- I felt nothing.

I opened my eyes and I was yards away from a picture that still to this day haunt’s me, I couldn’t see much but what I could killed me. The sight of the woman I called mom obviously launched from the wreck of a car mere feet behind her, laying on the ground breathing heavily, and blood surrounding her.

I could’ve done something, but I didn’t.

The ambulances came and carted us away but we all could see in her pale skin she was gone, and when I looked over and saw her cold lifeless face staring back at me that’s when I knew, I was the very thing I had nightmares of since I was a little boy.

I was left unscathed by my miraculous escape- as others called it. I just called it transmutation. I learned a lot since that day when I was a mere 12 years old, while my mother grieved yet never seemed to recover I became obsessed with finding out what I was, who I was, why I was created. It was years until I found out, but when they came to me, in my dreams. It all made sense.

They explained everything to me, how they and a demon had fallen in love however it wasn’t meant to be and they were torn from each other, but not before they fell pregnant- only possible due to the fact they were inhabiting a female body when the act took place.

It all made sense, all my years of searching and I finally got confirmation, I was a demon. A forbidden creature not even god could love, so I did what I thought was best and pushed everyone as far away from me as possible, and although it killed me to see my mother desperately trying to connect with me even through some of her darkest moments, I was doing what I thought was best.

My powers were completely out of control, the longer I lived the more powers showed up and the stronger they grew, transmutation, telekinesis, pyrokenisis, to many to name, and with each power came more struggle to keep my secret hidden, it was almost impossible to keep all of this bottled inside me,

And It was all going to plan, live my life never getting close to another person so they wouldn’t get hurt- that was of course until the new kid’s came to school- The Cullens- and among them was Jasper Hale, the man I would fall head over heels in love with and would completely change my life.

I tried my hardest to push him away but he wasn’t having any of it. He slowly chipped away at the walls I had so desperately built around myself, for months I slowly let him in, it was on the third month I officially befriended him, the fifth month I was fighting off a serious crush, and the six month was one I will forever cherish, the month he asked me out and I accepted so quickly embarrassment ate away at me. The eighth month he told me what he was and for just a moment I thought maybe he could understand, that we’d be safe with each other, and although I never told him what I was- I still felt as if he understood every part of me.

But that was crushed when a few days after our six month anniversary he was attacked by a group of nomad vampires, apparently my unusual scent still lingered on his brought them there- I was the reason they attacked him and he got hurt- although only slightly in vampire standard it still could have been much worse, he could’ve been killed.

I will never forget the image of him flashing in front of my, pure fear in his eyes as both his cold hands clamped around my shoulders, his voice faltered slightly as he asked if I was okay and if anything had happened. His blue shirt torn on his arms, new scars appeared under them, I  tried to ignore is but my head spun as he told me the events that had just taken place and I knew, I knew I was wrong. I knew he wasn’t safe with me.

And that’s why I’m pushing him away now, and this time I won’t let him tear down my walls in fear of him getting hurt because of me again- or even worse ending up like my mother.

But of course he wasn’t going to make that easy for me. It’s hard to explain to the man you love why you avoiding him when you can’t just casually say “Oh it’s because I’m a demon-angel hybrid and I don’t want you to die because everything good around me seems to die, my mother, my dog, happiness, kindness, all that good stuff. So I’ve decided to essentially shun you from my life. Okay bye have a nice day.”

So when I moved seats in class, didn’t sit with him at lunch, didn’t drive to school with him and hang out with him after school, didn’t even respond to his texts, he was slightly pissed, but mainly extremely concerned. What had happened? Was it something he did? Were you threatened by someone? Had you simply fallen out of love with him? Was he just not good enough?

He had to confront me, I knew it was coming but that didn’t make it any less heart wrenching. My chest ached as he confront me on my walk home, on the most secluded part of the route, his eyes were filled with pain as he asked a simple question, “Why?”

My throat went dry and I wrapped my arms around myself, the only source of comfort in this moment, I looked him dead in the eye and shook slightly as my entire facade dropped away in an instant, overwhelming guilt and despair washing over me, a single word caused my eyes to burn and water, my breath faltering despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

His golden eyes flooded with concern as he took in my pathetic state, “I can’t tell you.” I choked out, sucking in a jagged breath to try and calm myself but it only broke the damn in my eyes and tears streamed down my face- much to my dismay. In this moment as I looked at his confused and hurt eyes I envied his ability to not cry, it would make convincing him I don’t want to be with him much easier.

“Darling, what happened?” He said taking a step closer to me, “Why have you been so distant?”

I matched his step but backwards, wanting to keep distant because I couldn’t promise myself I wouldn’t fall into his arms if he got any closer.

“Nothing happened, Jasper. I just don’t think we are a good match.” I lied through my teeth, and I could see it on his face he knew it was a blatant lie.

“I don’t believe you, tell me what’s wrong Y/N. We can fix it, whatever it is we can work through it.” He promised, taking a quick step forward, this is so quick I couldn’t step away. I could only push him slightly by placing my hand on his chest, although he didn’t budge. He only held onto my hand while it was placed against his chest.

“Did I do something?” He asked, his brows furrowing as he stared at me, the pain in his eyes almost killed me and I couldn’t let him think he was the reason I didn’t want to be with him- he was the reason I wanted so badly to be with him, I was the reason I couldn’t.

“It’s nothing to do with you...” I mumbled trying to step back but his grip on my hand kept me in place, “Jasper please, let me go.” I said, referring to my hand although it had deeper meaning, I just needed him to let me go emotionally and physically.

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” He said cradling my hands gingerly although keeping a firm grip on them, “Whatever it is we can fix it-”

“No you can’t!” I shouted finally pulling my hands free, taking advantage of the fact that me raising my voice caused him to falter. I took a few steps back before running my now sweaty hands through my hair, I can’t do this... I can’t tell him.

“Please, Y/N. Whatever I did, I’ll make it better.” He practically begged, his usually steady voice quivering, irritation filled me and I finally burst, after all these years, my true self was finally revealed.

“No, Jasper! No you can’t, you can’t fix me! You’re not the problem I am, everything about me is damned- I’m quite literally a demon, I’m a monster in so many ways you will never understand, I can not be fixed like you said, you can’t fix this problem, I can never be fixed! Everything I love gets taken from me, my mothers, my friends, even my damn dog, I thought maybe you’d be safe, maybe you wouldn’t be affected by this damned curse, but no! You’ll just end up like everyone else!” I talked so fast my mind couldn’t keep up, I barely realize the burning sensation on my skin and the feeling of the wind hitting against my body but not in a sense I had ever felt before.

Looking over my shoulder I flinched at what I saw- there is not other way to say it other then the fact that I had sprouted wings, large and dark gray, filling the space behind me with large fuzzy feathers somewhat resembling a hawks feathers- but not only that small fires had lit themselves around my very being, causing the heat I had barely noticed before, this is it. He know’s I’m a monster, it only a matter of second before he leaves-

I was cut off by oh-so-familiar arms wrapping around me, pulling me into a tight hug, burying his face into my neck, I was so taken aback I could do nothing but stand almost limply in his arms, overwhelmed by a emotion I could not place but shocks of energy to each one of my nerves, but it sent a choked sob out of my throat and turned my stomach.

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N, Everything is going be alright.” his arms continued to embrace me, one of his hand resting on the back of my head and gently stroking my hair, although he was unable to soothe me via his powers, those simple words soothed me beyond imagine.

Finally letting a deep breath out the unimaginable weight I hadn’t realized was on my shoulders, I let myself fall into his arm, clutching at his freezing body like it was my only life line to this earth. Broken sobs leaving my lips as he supported my weight.

Once I had calmed down he finally let go of me, wiping the few stray tears from my cheek then ruffling my hair, without saying a single word he took my hand and started leading me away from where we had been, I looked over my shoulder- wings having dissipated at some point during the hug- and saw gray feathers blowing in the wind, scorch marks littering the ground around me.

“Jasper,” I said looking back over to him, “Where are we going?” I asked, He simply glanced at me, offering me a slight smile before stating simply “To the woods.”

“Jazzy that sounds like you’re going to kill me.” I mumbled but still followed him, knowing that was obviously not his intent.

Here only laughed at my statement, shaking his head slightly, if I could see his face I knew there would be a cheeky grin on his face and his gold locks would be perfectly framing his face- the thought made me want to make him look at me right now, however I continued to let him lead me deeper and deeper into the woods, before he let go of my hand- sighing in content.

“This will do.” He stated turning to me, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

“Will do for what exactly?” I questioned, he only smiled at me with that aggravatingly beautiful smile that just made me want to squeal like some twelve year old girl.

“For you to do some explaining.”

And with that he somehow convinced me to sit down and tell him all about my big secret- I had never even told him I witnessed my mother die in fear it would bring up to many questions, but now all my cards were out on the table and I spilled my soul to him. I told him about watching the life drain from my mothers body, how I spent months and years searching for answers, how my true “Mother” Visits me in my dream and explained everything, I told his I was technically a demon-angel hybrid, I told him how I pushed everyone away in fear my powers would become out of control as they so often did and cause someone to get hurt.

In the end it was nearly dark out, I had showed Jasper a small snippet of my power that I had showed him before, illuminating us with a small flame within my palm, he took my hand and pulled it closer,

“Hey, watch out Jasper it’s hot.” I said pulling away slightly so he wouldn’t hurt himself, although I quickly remembered he couldn’t feel the fire and it would simply wash over him, realizing my mistake I offered my hand again, a slight blush on my cheeks.

He remained motionless for a moment, before a grin spread across his face and he took my hand again, the hand that wasn’t gingerly caressing my hand floated above the flame, quickly dipping his fingers into the flame causing it to dance around him before pulling his hand away.

“Fascinating.” He almost gawked, looking me in my eyes, his eyes held a glint of fascination and an emotion I couldn’t place.

“What are you thinking about?” I quizzed, he let out a slight hum, letting go of my hand and standing from our position on the ground.

“You said you didn’t have full control of these powers?” He asked, however it sounded more like a statement.

“Yes..” I answered hesitantly.

“Well then,” He said before taking my hand and pulling me up so I was standing in front of him, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

(I hope this was okay, I’m still suffering a tad from sick brain but I think it’s decent. @shamelessloverhairdopainter​ If this isn’t to your liking feel free to contact me and i’ll tweak it to your liking :) have a wonderful evening and stay safe everyone)

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Pretense

Here’s a one-shot fanfic from me, still on Legend of Korra.

- Lin/Tenzin, pre-LOK AU

- One-shot, completed

- Length: Approx 8.9k

Overview:

As far as the Earth Kingdom is concerned, Lin Beifong is in a relationship with the son of the Avatar.

No, not that one.

 ---

Lin could not believe that they managed to pull it off.

It has been a week since she arrived at Ba Sing Se. So far, it has gone well.

She towel-dried her hair as she moved around the room to get ready. The metalbender has just finished her shower right after coming home from training with the Dai Li.

Lin had always wanted to train with them. She felt that, aside from her mother, they would be a good source of learning different earthbending styles.

As expected, her grandmother Poppy was more than unwilling to have her train – for what good man would indeed wish to be with a brutish young lady like her. On the other hand, Toph Beifong was quite supportive but was hesitant on the grounds that it might hinder her progress with the police force.

Ever the people-pleaser as her pestering sister described her, Lin struggled to come to a solution that would hopefully meet all their concerns. By some fortunate coincidence, someone swooped in with a proposal, which she accepted after weighing the pros and cons.

Sliding into a long deep scarlet dress, Lin quickly pinned up her hair and applied lip stick.  It would simply not do for one of the ladies of the Noble House of Beifong to be seen unkempt.

This was the concession of her temporary move to Ba Sing Se: train with the Dai Li by day - attend society events at night.

It was enough to satisfy both her mother and grandmother. Toph hated these events expected from the current head of the Beifong family. Having Lin attend to it in her stead works for both of them - Toph gets to stay in Republic City and Lin gets to show her family (and the world) that she is highly capable in navigating these events. This way, no one need worry about the Beifongs not being recognized within the Earth Kingdom.

There was a knock at the door. Lin took one last look in the mirror and went to open it.

To add to her advantage, showing up with a date every time for these events keeps possible entanglements at bay.

“You look wonderful, Lin.”

After all, what better way to repel unwanted admirers than showing up at the arm of the Avatar’s son?

“Thanks, you look good too, Bumi.”

 ---

Tenzin unfolded the letter.

This was the address, he confirmed, standing in front of a tall nondescript gate, blocking the view and entrance to a residence in the Middle Ring in Ba Sing Se.

He rang the bell and waited.

The airbender shifted his bag from shoulder to shoulder, his robes billowing in the wind but interestingly not drawing attention from any passersby. He figured it was a good call to leave Oogi at the Air Temple and take a train to the Earth Kingdom instead, less commotion and less accommodations needed. He did not want to unnecessarily impose on others after all.

Tenzin was at the last leg of his travels and it happened to be a stop at the Earth Kingdom, specifically at Ba Sing Se University. Initially having thought that only minimal information documenting the Air Nomad culture survived the genocide, after the deposition of Ozai, more and more have contacted the Avatar to share artifacts and knowledge of the Air Nomads that they had hidden away during the war. Aang had eagerly responded to each of these letters and began to acquire these relics beholden to his culture. When Tenzin became of age and was to embark on his travels as a new airbending master, he sought to continue this practice and exploration. This is what brings him to Ba Sing Se University.

He had been writing to his mother to update her; telling of his plans to stop at the Earth Kingdom before going home to Air Temple Island. Katara had suggested to contact his brother who would be there for a diplomatic assignment. Tenzin was skeptical; he did not have a close relationship with his siblings after all. Nonetheless, to appease his mother, he did write to Bumi asking if he could stay for a couple of weeks with him. To his surprise, Bumi had responded in the affirmative.

“Coming!”

A voice answered the bell, a voice which was obviously not Bumi and was distinctly feminine.

The gate swung open, and Tenzin gaped.

“Hi Tenzin, you’re early!” Lin Beifong stood before him, clad in a gold qipao. For a moment Tenzin was not able to respond, focusing his attention on the curl at her neck that must have escaped the bun on top of her head.

“H-hello, Lin.”

She invited him in. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

We?

“I was able to catch the first train out and so cut a day from my travel time.” He managed to respond as Lin led him to the house.

“I see, we were going to fetch you.”

“So, is it really Tenzin?” A loud voice came from one of the inner rooms of the house.

The metalbender rolled her eyes. “Of course, has my seismic sense failed us yet?”

“One could hope not.” Bumi came into view, wearing a towel tied at his waist and nothing much else. “Tennyboy! Great to see you!” The military man clapped his hands then moved to embrace his brother tightly and lifting him up. “Welcome to Ba Sing Se.”

“Good to see you too, Bumi.” Tenzin gasped out, dropping his bags, and patting his older brother back.

From his peripheral view, he could see Lin watching them with amusement.

“I want to hear all about what you’re up to here, baby brother.” Bumi set Tenzin back on the ground, crossing his arms, unmindful of his still dripping hair from his shower.

Lin cleared her throat and both men turned to her. She simply raised an eyebrow.

“Ah right,” Bumi shrugged. “Lin and I were on our way out for a charity event, would you want to join us?”

“Um, thanks but no.” Tenzin thought it would be the height of poor manners to show up uninvited by the hosts to a formal dinner. “I’ll settle in first.” He gestured to his things.

“Maybe next time, then.” Suddenly aware of his semi-nakedness, Bumi quickly addressed Lin. “Lin, if you could show him to his room? I’ll finish getting ready.”

Lin inclined her head and beckoned Tenzin to follow her.

Tenzin, although bewildered, followed Lin as she showed him where everything was (pantry, kitchen, living room). He also noted the shiny red embroidery on Lin’s dress that crept from the shoulder (is that a dragon?) to the small of her back which then drew his attention to her –

“And here is your bedroom.” Lin pushed open one of the doors.

“Thanks.” He paused just in time not to crash into the woman in front of him.

“If there’s anything you need, well, just let Bumi know.”

And, with a curt nod, Lin left Tenzin to settle in and wonder what he just got into.

 ---

Tenzin heard the front door open hours later as he sat at the living room, having a cup of tea while going over his notes.

“That was tough.” Bumi’s deep timbre echoed in the silent house.

Both he and Lin came into Tenzin’s view as they entered. Lin removed her heels and all but collapsed at the couch. “Remind me to decline any event that comes right after physical training sessions.”

“I did remind you,” Bumi slid down beside her, nodding at Tenzin to acknowledge his presence. “And you said, and I quote – ‘it’s just a short event, how bad can it be?’”

Lin covered her face with hands and groaned. “I underestimated the amount of networking that they expected during a charity event.”

Bumi laughed good-naturedly, patting Lin’s back. “Hey, Ten – how was your afternoon?”

“Good, good. I managed to unpack everything. All set for tomorrow.” Tenzin waved a sheaf of papers.

The non-bender looked between the metalbender who was slumped on the couch, eyes closed, and the airbender at his other side, clearly up for a long night of paperwork. An idea came to him. “I know, let’s all go out and have a late dinner and some drinks to welcome to you to Ba Sing Se.” He placed an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “What do you say?”

Tenzin grimaced a bit, having travelled conventionally without his sky bison was tiring. “Thanks for the offer but I’d rather stay in and get some rest.”

Bumi nudged Lin, who gave him a baleful glare. “Okay, no.” He laughed and got up, checking his pockets to make sure he has enough money. “I’ll just get us some take-out and we’ll eat in then.”

“That’s the first time you made sense tonight.” Lin grumbled.

With promises of a well-balanced meal for them of both vegetables, meat, and booze, Bumi loped off.

Lin remained in the couch, sighing as she stretched her legs and then tucked them to herself.

Tenzin adjusted his glasses and surreptitiously observed Lin as he went through his research notes.

He always had a soft spot for this childhood friend. They spent most of their toddler years and early childhood with one another, but Lin (and eventually Su) had been shuttled back and forth from Gaoling and Republic City. This was highly dependent on the Beifong grandparents as well as Toph’s schedule (and how dangerous her cases were). Meanwhile, his education has turned to focusing on Air Nomad culture. Their days intersected less and less as time passed by.

Their friendship dwindled, and they were not as close as they could have been.

Truth be told, as he watched Lin stretch once more then pad over to the kitchen with familiarity, he did not even know what she had been up to recently. He had some inkling to it (mostly relating to the police academy) but he did not expect her to be in Ba Sing Se. And most especially not around in Bumi’s UF provided residence.

He did harbor crush on the earthbender in their adolescence; surely at least Bumi knew about it, if his subsequent teasing during his visits to Air Temple Island were any proof.

Tenzin shook his head.

That was then and this was now; he had grown up and something as silly as a childhood crush was soon forgotten.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself as Lin came back to the living room, placing her own cup of tea on the table then disappearing to Bumi’s bedroom, claiming to retrieve a book she had been reading earlier.

Yes, it was all forgotten, Tenzin convinced himself even as he felt a pit form at his stomach.

 ---

The next time that Lin was over, Tenzin was lugging with him a large book bag filled with loaned books from the university library. After a couple of visits, he felt that the scrutiny from some of the staff and students made him uncomfortable. There was no denying who he was, with his tattoos brightly announcing to the world his mastery of a long thought to be dead element.

The fawning and the preferential treatment were a little less bad than how the air acolytes had regarded him. That was not conducive to his productivity and so he decided to bring home as much relevant material as he could instead and work from there.

He had only managed to spread out all the books and was in the process of cataloging the references when Lin burst into the house.

“Is Bumi home?” Lin appeared have rushed over, and Tenzin appreciated the flush on her cheeks and neck exposed by the tank top she wore.

Tenzin made a noise and pointed to Bumi’s bedroom and was responded to by a hasty thanks.

 ---

“You said you had news?” Lin asked without preamble upon entering the bedroom.

“Spirits, Linny!” Bumi shouted, pretending to cover himself up with his blanket when he was obviously doing some mending of his clothes. “What if I had been indecent?”

Lin simply snorted. “I’ve seen you in worse conditions.” She was no doubt pertaining to the time he had gotten drunk, and she had to bail him out.  “So, what is this about?” She sat at the edge of the bed, mindful of the sewing basket.

“Eh,” Bumi shrugged unconcerned but grinning. He tossed her an opened letter. “See for yourself.”

Skimming through the letter, a grin formed on Lin’s face as well. “Bumi! This is great!”

Prior to his assignment in Ba Sing Se, Bumi was short-listed for the next round of promotions. While tried and tested in the field, Bumi’s skills in diplomacy were yet to be proven. This latest assignment was a chance to prove just that.

And as in everything in his life, Bumi had to work doubly hard to prove himself. He had been a month in Ba Sing Se, attending meetings in the Royal Court, with the legislature and the kingdom’s security. He felt that he was not making a lot of leeway into reaching the accord that the United Forces needed with the Earth Kingdom. Their queen, Hou-Ting, had recently ascended to the throne and was distrustful of anything linked to the United Republic.

He had taken a couple of days off to visit his mother to take a breather and maybe a change in the scenery would give him more ideas how to approach the dilemma. He was going to sneak into the kitchen for a late breakfast when he overheard a conversation between his mother and Toph Beifong – which ended up with him seeking Lin to discuss a mutually-benefitting proposal…

This brings them to this moment where one of Bumi’s superiors had sent a missive on how one of the Earth Kingdom nobles had revisited his stance on the agreement between the United Republic and the Earth Kingdom. Included in the letter as well as a congratulatory note to continue whatever tactic he has employed as the results were in their favor. It was a simple introduction into the right company, an assistance that came in the form of Lady Lin of the Noble House of Beifong, who knew the Who’s Who in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se and the influential nobility in the Earth Kingdom.

“We should celebrate these little wins.” Lin handed the letter back. From her end, she will know if her presence in the upper-class of the Earth Kingdom has made any impact once she hears from her grandmother (who in turn, would have learned from one of her contemporaries living in Ba Sing Se).

“I don’t see why not.” Bumi merely tossed his mending into his sewing basket.

Grasping Lin’s arm and eagerly bringing her to the living room, he called out to his serious brother. “Tenzin! Get up, man – we’re going out to celebrate!”

 ---

Tenzin looked up to his beaming brother and Lin who was blushing from Bumi’s arm.

He wanted to decline joining them, fearing an outing of being the third wheel to the couple. At the same time, it had been a long time since he had spent time with Lin (and Bumi for that matter). Additionally, for some reason, that he did not want to dwell on right now, he did not want to leave the couple alone to their own devices.

Seeing Lin’s smile and Tenzin knew his decision was made for him.

 It was not too bad, not really.

Lin and Bumi had tossed banter, speaking of nobles and politics that flew over Tenzin’s head. He did not bother to clarify, thinking that it must be some sort of inside joke between the two. Or something confidential related to their fields of work.

They selected a small food court still in the Middle Ring, which catered to the varied crowd with different cuisines. Bumi ordered mounds of varied barbecued meats and sauces.

Tenzin noticed that Bumi did not order anything for Lin and Lin was left perusing the menu on her own.

The waiter stood patiently; pen poised over his notepad ready for their order.

“I’ll have the green mango salad please.”

“The green mango salad for me.”

Bumi looked at them with amusement. “Seems like you’ve finally found someone who enjoys shrimp paste as much as you do, Lin.”

Lin simply pursed her lips and went on to order another entrée on top of the salad (squid ink noodles) and a glass of cold tea.

Tenzin added an order of seaweed noodles for himself.

Once their orders arrived and they have dug in, Lin and Tenzin continued to rib Bumi for not having green mango salad, which in this case, included a healthy dollop of shrimp paste.

“I’m telling you, Bumi, this salad is good.” Tenzin insisted, taking in several bites of the salad. “You can’t know until you try it.”

“No, thank you.” Bumi grimaced with slight disgust. “It stinks high heaven.”

“I find it a good deterrent on a first date,” Lin happily mixed the shrimp paste into the leafy vegetables and sliced mangoes. “Makes it easier for me to weed out those with unscrupulous intentions.”

“Seriously, Lin – unscrupulous? You’re the only other person aside from Tennyboy here who uses words with more than three syllables.” Bumi evaded a slice of mango that the earthbender tossed him. “Well, there you have it Tenzin, if you do find that unique lady who would share this horrific salad with you – you could be rest assured that she’s not after your good name, your esteem or a good time that night.”

Lin chortled. “I doubt anyone who was looking to hooking up will even order it in the first place.”

“Imagine the stink during foreplay…” Bumi waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with a slap upside his head from the earthbender.

Tenzin thought that he would not mind sharing a salad with Lin while on a date.

As Lin reached out her chopsticks to snatch a piece of meat from Bumi’s plate, which Bumi subsequently tapped away lightly, the airbender sneaked two pieces of meat from Bumi to Lin’s plate when his brother was preoccupied.

This was the Lin that he knew, in a plain tank top and loose pants. Not the Gaoling heiress made up with a fancy bun and a tight dress. While she did look beautiful in her formal attire, Tenzin thought that she was especially radiant tonight in her natural state.

The grateful grin that Lin gave him was enough to remind him that maybe his little crush was not all gone.

 ---

Later that night, after Lin went home, Tenzin made a mistake of hovering in the kitchen as Bumi put away some of their leftovers.

“Something’s bothering you.”

“N-no.” Tenzin stammered out.

“You’re making that face.” Bumi waved a hand in front of Tenzin’s face.

“This is my face, that’s all.” Tenzin knew the non-bender could be stubborn and will not budge unless he gave in. “Fine.” He sighed. “Seriously, Bumi – Lin? She – she’s not even your type.”

“So, I have a type, eh?” Bumi stood up to his full height, sending a critical look at the younger man.

“You know what I mean.” Tenzin crossed his arms. He sought to phrase his thoughts in a way that will not insult either Lin or his brother. “You take her on dates, and she doesn’t seem like the usual girls you go out with.”

A flash of something crossed Bumi’s face and a knowing smile formed. “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Think about it Ten, Lin Beifong has brains, beauty, and brawn – the complete package. Anyone should think that she’s their type.” He flexed his arms, giving his brother mischievous wink. “Now, she’s got Bumi too.”

The sinking feeling that Tenzin felt since the start of the night grew heavier as he watched his brother gleefully say his good night and left him to his thoughts in the kitchen.

What was he thinking? Reviving feelings over his brother’s girlfriend? That just was not gentlemanly to do nor was it right.

 ---

As much as Tenzin wanted to avoid Lin, he found that it was near impossible with the frequency of Lin dropping by or Bumi coming home with Lin.

The couple would also be very considerate and would often invite him to join them at their formal events. To date, Tenzin had not accepted any of their invites yet.

It was also hard to ignore the earthbender as Lin would usually be the one to initial conversation, usually by poking through his notes and the materials sprawled on the coffee table. If there was anything that Tenzin could talk about all day, it was anything and everything to do with the Air Nation and their nomadic culture.

Lin’s sincere interest in the topics similarly encouraged him to open up to her.

And, hopefully, dare he wished, her to him.

 ---

Finding more in common with him with their esoteric food tastes compared to Bumi, Lin had taken to bringing some packed food from the food court from time to time.

In one of their conversations, she admitted to Tenzin that while she did enjoy eating out with Bumi, the soirees that they go to tend to serve the usual Earth Kingdom Upper Ring fare and it tends to get a little bit redundant after some time. While she would love to sample more of the dishes in the multi-cultural food court, most of the orders were good for sharing. And, after an ill-advised selection with Bumi (which ended up with the man looking green the entire night, to be fair Bumi was a champ and had not complained all night and had valiantly finished their food), Lin did not have the courage to order more with the non-bender.

To her delight, Tenzin offered to do these taste tests with her. Unfortunately, the schedules that they both adhere to had prevented any outings like the night that they all went out with Bumi.

Lin came up with a solution and would stop by the stalls and the food court to order a dish or two to try. Then, over their paperwork (Lin had taken to bringing over her own paperwork to go through at Bumi’s house), the two of them would share this meal, pretending to review the dishes with posh and snooty language they read in the lifestyle section of the Ba Sing Se gazette.

Lin found herself looking forward more and more to these nights, a reprieve from the arduous Dai Li training and highly decorous hobnobbing with the Upper Ring.

Tenzin’s calming presence and dry wit kept Lin interested to spend more time with the airbender. It was as though they were picking up back from their previously close relationship.

Don’t get her wrong, she also enjoyed the company that Bumi provided when they go out on their dates. He was a good conversationalist and he helped her deftly navigate through the upper echelon of the Earth Kingdom society. Bumi is a good older brother who shared her experience in a similar industry, someone to talk to in terms of career and the practicalities of life.

Tenzin on the other hand…

Lin tilted her head in consideration while the airbender absentmindedly tapped his pen to his chin, a mannerism that she now recognized.

The airbender made her feel heard and seen.

She made a face and turned to face her own papers.

Put it like that makes it sound so sappy and un-Lin-like.

And yet, it felt right.

 ---

Tenzin had finished his research an hour or so ago.

He was now vacillating between going to bed early and leaving a few books on the table, in the illogical hope that maybe when Lin drops by later with Bumi she will be intrigued enough to stay for a chat. It sounded so stupid.

A beat.

He wants that.

He looked at the clock. Lin and Bumi will not be back for a few more hours.

While he was contemplating this conundrum that he placed himself in, the door opened and in limped Bumi, an arm over Lin’s shoulder.

Tenzin immediately stood up to take Bumi’s other arm to assist. “What happened?” He peered at his brother.

“Genius here decided that he was strong enough to -.” Lin had started to respond but Bumi swiftly twisted to cover her mouth with his hand.

“It’s not important how I got injured- just that I did.” Bumi interrupted as he held Lin’s gaze.

The unspoken communication between the two was too much for Tenzin and was about to leave the couple alone when Lin rolled her eyes and mumbled her agreement.

Bumi placed his arm again on his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s hop to it, Ten-Lin.” He ordered imperiously, nodding towards his bedroom.

“Of course, my liege.” Lin muttered, snark and sarcasm dripping from her words as they assisted the non-bender.

With a bit of maneuvering, Tenzin and Lin were able to place Bumi on his bed. Tenzin then noticed the glint of metal at his brother’s foot.

“Do you need any more help?” He directed his question to Lin rather than his brother who seemed to be smiling loopily at them.

“Ooooh Ten-Lin,” Bumi called out in an odd singsong voice then patted the bed beside him. “Care to have a heart-to-heart with Papa Boomboom here?”

Papa Boomboom?

“I’m good.” Lin shook her head, pulling at Bumi’s shoes and tapping the metal brace that she appeared to have created. “The healer on site was able to give him first aid and painkillers. He’ll be out in no time.” She was resolutely ignoring Bumi’s waggling eyebrows.

Tenzin inched out and quietly closed the door behind him, not wanting to find out what Papa Boomboom was up to, similarly disregarding Bumi calling out “Ten-Lin! Ten-Lin!” as he left.

 By the time Lin got out of the bedroom, the airbender was back in his spot in the living room, nursing a warm cup of genmaicha. His things were now in a neat pile on the coffee table. His hope of a conversation with Lin that he had initially looked forward to now a thing of the past. With his brother in semi-lucidity and injured to boot, no doubt Lin would be spending her visit (or even staying over) at Bumi’s bedside.

It was to Tenzin’s astonishment when Lin plopped beside him at her spot on the couch a couple of minutes later.

“Do you still have some of that?”

He blinked before realizing that Lin was pertaining to the genmaicha. “Ah yes, there’s more in the pot in the kitchen – let me get it for you.” He added belatedly, something warm curling within him at Lin’s soft smile as she thanked him.

The airbender got up to get the teapot while the earthbender proceeded to remove her shoes.

Lin was flexing then curling and uncurling her toes when he got back.

“Why do you even wear those shoes if they’re so uncomfortable?” He could not help but ask as he set the tea tray down on the table.

“It goes with the dress.” Lin nonchalantly stated as she shifted in her seat. She tucked both of her legs to her side at the couch and Tenzin had to concentrate on pouring her tea as her green silk skirt hiked a bit.

 They sipped their tea in comfortable silence for a few moments.

As always, Lin was the one who broke the quiet. “Aren’t you going to ask about Bumi?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I want to know what happened but I’ll bite – how is he?”

“He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Lin scoffed. “I’ve removed the brace. Nothing else bruised except for his ego. Not going to give everything away but he injured himself because of a dance move.”

Tenzin was mid-sip and had choked on the tea.

“Easy there,” Lin moved to rub Tenzin’s back in circles, in an attempt to help him.

Unknown to her, it only heightened his embarrassment and the soothing movements only contributed to his discomfort.

“Dance move?” He eventually garbled out, having regained his composure.

Lin’s lips quirked up. “Yes, don’t go teasing him on it yet though. Keep that in your back pocket. You’ll never know when you might need it.” She removed her hand on his back and Tenzin felt its absence acutely. She reached for the pot on the table to refill her own cup. She then caught sight of the title of the topmost book that Tenzin had.

As Tenzin had hoped earlier, the earthbender brought their attention to the book and asked about his progress in his research on the instruments of the Air Nomads.

 Eventually the pot has been refilled and emptied, their cups left cold as their conversation suitably engaged them until the late hours of the night.

“Wouldn’t that be grand though,” Tenzin had expressed. “If we were able to have enough artifacts to host in a museum. I mean, Dad was able to transport the ancient airbending gates to Air Temple Island. It would be great if we’ll find something more to add.”

Lin, who, by now, did not care that her skirt was wrinkled and was now hugging a throw pillow to her chest, observed. “You really enjoy what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Bits and pieces of it,” He picked at the frayed edges of his notes. “The thing I hate the most about being the Avatar’s airbending son is the travelling.”

“Oh?” The tone was non-judgmental but curious.

“I know it sounds terribly ungrateful.” Tenzin fidgeted. “But I really disliked moving from one temple to the other. I’m not made for this nomadic lifestyle. I sometimes think that being an airbender was wasted on me.” He had never spoken of this to anyone, not even his mother. “I would have been utterly contented spending my days at Republic City or at Air Temple Island even.”

He expected a rebuke or a scathing remark on him being an ingrate (Agni knows how some senior acolytes had spoken behind his back whenever he deviated from Air Nomad culture).

“What would you rather do if this wasn’t expected of you?” Lin’s gentle query and earnest expression was a balm to his anxious soul.

“Maybe a teacher or a scribe.” There was something about Lin that was drawing him in, making him want to be honest as possible. “Nothing fancy, nothing worth writing home about.”

“You’d be a good teacher,” She considered. “You’re very patient and very much willing to impart whatever knowledge you have.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, Lin’s intense grey gaze on him. “How about you? What if… you weren’t born a Beifong?”

He could see the hesitation. “Can you keep a secret?” Lin whispered, inching towards him after a few moments.

Tenzin could only nod. At this point, he will probably do anything for her.

She curled her finger at him, beckoning him closer, close enough to whisper in his ear. “I wanted to be a dancer.”

“I could see it.” There had always been something graceful with how Lin used to manipulate her metal cables. Where her mother was firmly stuck to the ground with rough movements, Lin seemed to be lighter on her feet with more fluid motions. He has not seen Lin metalbend recently; he could only imagine the difference a couple of years training would make on improving her bending.

“Really?” The surprise was apparent on her face.

Tenzin idly wondered if she, like him, thought that their dreams were ridiculous considering the heaviness of the mantle that were their parents’ legacies.

“Why not? I think you’d be good at it.” On a whim, maybe it was the lateness of the hour, the cathartic feeling of telling someone of his dream and insecurities, Tenzin let the words escape before he could even filter them. “Dance with me.” He stood up and extended a hand to the earthbender who was still curled up on the couch.

“What?” Lin’s eyes widened slightly (is that a faint blush he sees on her cheeks?).

“Dance with me.” He repeated.

“But there’s no music.” Despite saying that, she held his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tenzin positioned themselves closer, he was sure it was not an airbending dance position but something he saw on a visit to the Fire Nation. “It’s just you and me now.”

After few false starts, both got into a steady rhythm with Tenzin leading.

As Lin grew more relaxed in his arms, Tenzin knew he would take what he could now. He felt like he was just doused with cold water with the epiphany he had. He was just fooling himself. His crush was not over, far from it.

His feelings were stronger than ever.

His eyes landed on Bumi’s bedroom door.

His feelings which should remain hidden as they were towards his brother’s girlfriend. His feelings which he will never act on.

It never did cross his mind to wonder why the woman was still there in the house, spending time with him willingly hours after her supposed boyfriend had turned in for the night.

 ---

“Nobleman with a distasteful mustache at three o'clock, Lin.” Bumi whispered at her side, clutching her elbow as they weaved through the crowd.

Lin stood ramrod straight. “That’s the nephew of one of Grandma's friends.”

It was at situations like this that she valued Bumi's presence at her side. Nonetheless, they made sure to act in accordance with proprietary.

She overheard several matrons saying that it was a pity that Lady Beifong appeared to be spoken for; their son/grandson/nephew would have been perfect for her.

However, in all the soirees and events that they have been attending, no one had outright asked them the status of their relationship. Lin was not about to disabuse them of their assumptions as no one was brave enough to confirm anything with her.

This at least left her to freely engage in conversation without fear of misconstrued intentions. This also allowed Bumi to be included in these discussions where he would expertly drop opinions or statements that may influence their thinking in relation to the United Forces or the current political climate.

No one thought twice of the presence of the non-bending son of the Avatar – If the Beifongs approved of this military son of a pacifist, then he was good enough to mingle among the Earth Kingdom elite.

As the two of them navigated their way to the buffet table, Bumi casually asked. “When this is over, aren’t you worried about them vultures descending upon you? Or Republic City gossip rags?”

Lin hummed as she perused the selection. “No, not really. We’re far away from Republic City and this is very exclusive society is not about to dish out to anyone outside of their circle. That’s what keeps them in power.” She picked up a piece of bruschetta. “And besides, maybe I’ll ask Mom to send Su here in the next season – find herself a good husband or something.”

“Lin, she’s barely twenty.” Bumi commented, eyes twinkling in amusement.

The earthbender merely shrugged.

“And, what about you?” He prodded her side as they sat back at their table. “Any romantic entanglements you see in the horizon?” It was to Bumi’s credit that he detected the barely noticeable tightening of her jaw and widening of eyes. “So, there is someone!” He announced gleefully, turning a few heads their way.

“No, there isn’t.” Lin grumbled, stabbing a fork into the plateful of food that she had taken.

“Playing dumb with me never worked, Lin Beifong, even when we were children.”

Lin hated how Bumi was able to read her easily; their equally matched observational skills honed by their respective careers.

“Don’t think I didn’t see it coming or that I did not see it happening.”

She resolutely brushed him off and focused on her plate.

“What are you going to do about it?” Where Lin might be stubborn, Bumi was downright obstinate and pushy.

“There’s nothing I should do anything about.”

Bumi glanced at her pensively over the glass he was sipping from. “Maybe you’re right – you shouldn’t have to do anything.”

“Oh Bumi, you’re reading too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything,” She turned away. “Besides, he probably has some sweetheart waiting for him at one of the temples. We’re just friends.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

We’re just friends.

 At least, that was what Lin told herself even as she once again found herself sitting at Bumi’s living room that night long after Bumi had gone to bed.

 ---

“What did that piece of paper do to offend you?”

Tenzin paused the incessant pen tapping that he had been unconsciously doing as the notice he received was pulled from under the pen. He twiddled with his fingers while Lin read the document. “I got an offer from the university to hold a series of lectures in the coming days.”

Lin congratulated him on the offer. “What are you displeased about then? Surely it’s not about the lack of topics that you’ll discuss.” She raised an eyebrow at the stack of folders on the table, each labelled with meticulous care.

“No, it’s not that.” He waved it off. “I just – I don’t know if I can make it interesting enough for them.”

She handed him one of the folders. “Try me.”

“Come again?”

Lin leaned back in the couch, getting comfortable. “Practice with me, pretend I’m one of those bright-eyed students that you’ll be teaching.”

Yes, pretend.

Little did they know, both were pretending for each other’s sake long before they realized it.

 ---

“In all honesty, I envy Bumi and Kya.”

“You do?”

A nod. “They get to live their life the way they wanted it to be. There’s not a lot riding on their shoulders. Whatever they are doing now – they wanted it, they’re living the life that they want because they can.”

“Is that what you truly think?” The earthbender’s piercing stare held his gaze. He hoped that whatever she found conveyed his honesty. “Maybe you need to check in with them. They might see things differently.”

 ---

It was one of the rare weekends that Bumi, Lin, and Tenzin found themselves free from any engagement. They took this opportunity to head to dine at their usual food court.

While Bumi and Lin scouted for an empty table, Tenzin browsed the menu of one of the newly opened stalls.

“Master Tenzin?”

Tenzin turned to who called him and came face to face with a vaguely familiar woman.

“I’m Pema – from the lectures?” The student obviously expected that he would remember her.

“Ah yes,” Tenzin awkwardly responded because he did not really recall a lot from the sea of faces. “From yesterday’s morning session?”

The girl, Pema, beamed at him, nodding. “And the afternoon session from the day before, and the one session lecture the day before that.”

“Oh, so you managed to attend all of them?” There was mild interest in his tone now. Maybe he was able to get through the Ba Sing Se students. “Which topic interested you the most?”

Pema began to explain excitedly when Tenzin saw Lin wave at him from a few tables away.

“Say, are you eating alone?” At the very least, politeness made him invite the young woman.

“I-I-That is to say -no- I mean, yes.” Pema shifted her eyes.

“Would you like to join us?” At her nod, Tenzin motioned to have her follow him to their table.

Upon approaching, Tenzin saw that Lin and Bumi had already given their orders to the waiter.

At Lin’s raised eyebrow and Bumi’s curious look, Tenzin introduced Pema and said that she would be joining them today.

The waiter handed both a copy of the menu while Tenzin pulled the chair in front of Bumi for Pema to sit on.

“Ahh, Pema, is it?” Bumi placed an arm around the back of Lin’s chair. “Any idea what you would be getting?”

“I, um, not sure yet.” She hid behind the menu, brows furrowing.

Bumi grinned mischievously while catching his brother’s eye.

That can’t be good, Tenzin thought silently.

“Might I make a recommendation?” The non-bender leaned forward and at Pema’s nod, pointed on an item on the menu she was holding. “Tenzin loves this.” Bumi winced subtly that Tenzin could surmise was because Lin must have kicked him under the table.

“Oh, yes of course!” Was Pema’s immediate reaction and ordered.

Tenzin was surprised and ordered his food as well. When the waiter had taken all their orders and left, the airbender turned to the student. “You like the green mango salad?”

“Yes, I do – I enjoy it a lot.” Pema enthusiastically agreed.

“Even the shrimp paste?” Bumi asked innocently but sending a sly look at Lin, who steadfastly kept silent.

“Especially the shrimp paste. It gives it the texture and distinct salty taste.”

“Indeed.”

Tenzin finally caught Lin’s eye and there was an odd expression on her face that he could not explain.

Bumi proceeded to liven up the table with conversation and even make Pema feel at ease. It was one of the traits of his brother that Tenzin envied.

The rest of their meal went by uneventfully and they all got to know Pema a little bit more and her interest in the lectures from the past days. As Bumi did not draw attention to the unusually taciturn earthbender beside him, Tenzin did not attempt to draw her into conversation as well despite his confusion. Lin would commonly be a little bit more talkative during their small outings like this.

Maybe she had a bad day?

As the meal winded down, Tenzin thought he rather wanted to see more of Pema. At least, to not remain as a third wheel to the couple in front of him.

“So, we might have, uh, tea after dinner. Would you like to join us?”

Pema’s effusive acceptance became garbled to his ears as he detected the sudden screeching of the metal chair in front of him being pushed back.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

Both Bumi and Tenzin turned to Lin, who was only maintaining eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Oh right, your… report.” Bumi motioned to stand up as well. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

His brother’s unexpectedly gentle tone made Tenzin think if there is something else that he missed. A subtext that passed known only to the couple.

Lin tilted her head and smiled weakly. “No need, I can manage.”

Nonetheless, Bumi stood up, made their excuses to Tenzin and Pema.

Tenzin looked on as Lin allowed herself to be escorted by Bumi. The lie of having a report waiting for her tasting bitter in the airbender’s mouth.

But why?

“I suppose tea is out of question now.” Pema said shrewdly, moving to stand up as well when Bumi and Lin was out of their line of sight.

Maybe she was more perceptive than Tenzin gave her credit for.

If Pema thought that he was about to invite her elsewhere, she was mistaken, and Tenzin extended his hand to shake hers. “Pleased to meet you, Pema, thank you.” He paused and somewhat awkwardly added. “And good luck on your studies.”

Tenzin closed his eyes for a moment, a headache already forming.

He froze.

There on the table, beside Pema’s empty plate of what used to contain her order of skewers, was a full bowl of green mango salad, mixed but not a single bite taken out of it.

 ---

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s too young.”

He knew his older brother was right, but it stung to be called an idiot.

Ever since Lin urged him to talk to his siblings, Tenzin had consciously made time to connect to Bumi.

Along the way, he learned about how different their views of their childhood were. Bumi, on his part, was quite candid and the airbender appreciated that. More than once, Tenzin was tempted to evade some of their talks that were bordering on painful (cut-and-run much?). He felt that he owed it to his brother though to power through.

But tonight, there were emotions that were too raw to filter. If the couple just wanted some time together, they need not fabricate Lin having to work on a report. They need not pity him for being their third wheel.

“Lin is too young for you too and you don’t hear me berating you for it.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it, really?”

“Well, if you get your head out of your behind, maybe you’ll see what’s right in front of you.”

 ---

Letters swapped hands.

“Training’s almost done and as you can see there, Grandma has already received news from the grapevine about what an asset I am to the Beifong line.”

Bumi refolded the letter after reading. “I suppose your time in Ba Sing Se has come to an end then?”

“Only if you think you don’t need me anymore.” Lin paused and gave a short laugh, finding her phrasing funny. “I mean, if you think you don’t need help anymore with your assignment?” She leaned back, tapping the letter from Bumi’s superior in her hand.

“I should say mission accomplished to us both.” Bumi drew Lin into his arms. “Thank you.”

 It was most unfortunate that it was in this good-bye scene that the airbender arrived to.

 ---

The raindrops continue to fall, leaving staccato beats on the roof top.

The entirety of Ba Sing Se was coated in a haze that enveloped the typically green and brown place in a blueish gray hue.

The peaceful scene should have relaxed the airbender.

Tenzin sighed.

But it did not.

Not when he could hear characteristically feminine giggles from his brother's room.

He checked the clock, too early to have visitors over unless it were visitors who never left the night before.

His knuckles turned white, tightly grasping his mug.

As much as he felt that he should come clean to Bumi about his feelings for Lin (his girlfriend), his head was telling him not to. It would be another thing that Bumi might hold against him (on top of a lot of other childhood insecurities that their father inadvertently caused).

He just wants both Lin and Bumi to be happy. Even if it means hearing what they have been up to in the early hours of the day.

“Ah, Spirits what a turn out – it’s as though Tui and La decided to inundate the entire Earth Kingdom by flooding it.”

Tenzin’s head jerked up.

Lin Beifong was standing in the edge of their kitchen, hair dripping wet.

His mind was sluggish in realizing, shocked as it was to see the earthbender.

“Do you still have some of that?” Lin waggled her fingers towards Tenzin’s mug of genmaicha.

“Oh, yes – where are my manners –.” Tenzin tripped over his words and hastily poured her a cup. Then reaching over to the coat rack and draping his coat over her, he admonished her lightly. “What were you doing out in this deluge anyway? You’ll get sick!”

“Well, Bumi told me that you intend to leave in a few days’ time and as I was preparing for my trip back to Republic City, I thought that -.”

A door creaked open. “Lemme grab us a bite from the pantry; we need sustenance if we want to last all the way to noon.”

Damn.

“Oh.” Bumi stumbled into the room, completing their peculiar tableau of a dripping earthbender cloaked in red and yellow, a pale shock airbender standing at the edge of the room and a military man that, for whatever intent and purposes he may have, was wearing nothing.

Tenzin’s pale skin started to redden, comprehension dawning on him. “Oh – that’s all you have to say?” If Lin was here – then who was with Bumi the entire night/morning back in his bedroom?

The non-bender scratched his bum. “What did you want me to say?”

“Oh, for Spirits’ sake, Bumi cover yourself!” Lin averted her eyes. “I may not act like it the whole time, but I still am a lady!”

“Ah Beifong,” Bumi smiled devilishly, his hand moving from his head to his legs. “Come take a look at what you’re actually missing out on.”

Lin pointedly faced the ice box, her back to the naked man. “No way, I’m not missing on anything.”

“Come on, Linny!”

“No, Bumi.” Lin snorted a laugh then bent her head over her cup of genmaicha.

Tenzin felt like he was going to explode.

How dare Bumi disregard Lin Beifong just like that? Flaunting his floozy---

How dare Lin not call him out – it was beyond disrespectful!

What’s more: being in a relationship with Lin was something he personally wanted for himself - not because of his father, not because he is an airbender, but because he wanted this. To see Bumi taking her for granted was like a knife twisting in his chest.

“Get yourself some clothes before you catch a cold.”

“You dry yourself before you catch a cold.”

Why were they skirting over the obvious issue?

Tenzin let out a strangled sound.

“Something wrong, Tennyboy? Your vein is about to burst on your forehead.”

“Something wrong?” The airbender’s voice went a pitch higher. “Something. Wrong. You –.” He pointed aggressively at his brother. “Just spent the night with some,” He clenched and unclenched his fist as he tried to select the appropriate word. “Woman that is not your girlfriend!”

Lin’s eyes shot to Bumi’s. “You have a girlfriend?”

Bumi raised both hands. “Wait a minute, you know I don’t. This,” His shoulder gestured towards the bedroom. “Is a recent development and it’s just for fun, you know, and she definitely knows.”

“What!” Tenzin’s gasped out.

“Wait a minute,” Bumi snapped his fingers. “Lin, you didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell him what?” The earthbender scrunched her face thinking before it cleared as she seemed to have concluded something. “Oh. No. I didn’t – I didn’t think I had to –!”

Tenzin felt he was watching a ball go back and forth between the other two.

“You’re the one talking to him often.” Bumi crossed his arms.

“You’re the one living with him.” Lin pointed at the airbender.

“You’re the one in love with him!”

A stunned silence followed.

Surely… Bumi was mistaken?

 ---

Bumi ran a hand over his face. “I think you both have a lot to talk about.” Then, he grabbed the nearest food on the table (a loaf of sweet mung bread). “I’ll leave you both to it.” He waved the loaf then exited the kitchen.

Lin considered the tea in her cup, focusing as though it could lend her the fortitude for the upcoming conversation.

Tenzin sat on the chair opposite her, taking a sip from his own genmaicha. “Feel like explaining what that was?”

As an earthbender, Lin went into it head on. “Bumi and I are not – were not – in a relationship – we – I thought that was clear.” Then she proceeded to explain the arrangement that she had with his brother. “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable with this.” She waved her hand uselessly.

Lin bit her lip anxiously. She blew on her cup, waiting for the airbender to process the information that was dumped on him.

 ---

Two things ran through his mind.

Firstly, Bumi and Lin are not (never were!) in a relationship.

That key revelation echoed, unlocking several objections that he had repeatedly told himself to tamp down his feelings for the earthbender.

Secondly, it did not escape his notice that Lin did not say anything to refute Bumi’s claim.

His heart beat loudly, feeling like it was up in his throat. Excitement and nervousness made it difficult for him to breath, ironic for an airbender.

“Lin,” Tenzin cleared his throat. “And what Bumi said,” He leaned forward to tilt her head up so he could look at her eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath. “Is it true?” He felt Lin pull back for a second before she slowly nodded.

Without a hint of hesitation, Tenzin stood up to gather Lin in his arms, feeling complete and contented, something alien to him, something he had not felt for the longest time.

“I take it you like me too?” A muffled voice at his chest murmured.

“More than.” Tenzin bent his head, putting his forehead against Lin’s, unmindful of how her wet clothes now clung to them both. “I love you too.” He then closed the gap between their lips.

They would have gone longer if Lin had not shuddered involuntarily. They separated slightly, arms still around each other.

“I’m sorry, I probably need to get dried.”

Tenzin peered down at Lin’s now translucent attire. “Better yet, let’s get you out of those wet clothes. That is – if you don’t have any objections to it?”

“None whatsoever.” Lin tiptoed, pressing her lips to him. “No boyfriend, no rumored beau…Care to help me out?”

“Gladly.”

[moonchildsaurora]

Running in Circles

✤ guard captain!Mingi x thief!reader  ✤ genre: Guard AU // smidge of fluff, (semi)enemies-to-friends. (feat. Yunho) ✤ t/w: sfw, none - except very brief mentions of some fighting, rated PG ✤ count: 3k ✤ [ part 3 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - huge apologies for keeping Captain Song in for a so long but alas, he’s finally freeeeee. I really need to pick up the pace with continuing on with this mini series 😅 this idea sorta played out better in my head than out in words - I’m not 100% happy with this, it’s defs not my best but I shall practise writing more Mingi fics in the future! This is also probably the tamest of the lot in terms of cry-level. Just preparing you guys with an easy read before the shitstorm that awaits in the next member on the list one shot hahahahahahaha. @hereisleo​ & @barsformars​ hope you both enjoy this for ya man 😉 I couldn’t bring myself to hurt this giant teddybear too much in writing. Also everyone, let’s welcome back a familiar face within this one shot :P

In all of his years of being a royal palace guard of Aethevintis, nothing would cause his body to seize up with tension instantly and hasten the greys that threaten to come through his still youthful auburn tresses than when he was requested at the interrogation chamber.

Heavy steps echoed off the dark granite stone floors, the sharp clinking from an array of medals that hung proudly to signify his prestige were in sync with his tense pace. Song Mingi had no problem exercising command and authority when it was needed, in fact, he prided himself in doing so.

He was good at his job, and he knew that.

Otherwise the title of Captain wouldn’t had been bestowed upon him that four winters ago. The real struggle was when his confidence in being assertive was mistaken for the ability to intimidate, broad body physique to further fuel that common misconception. And so Mingi often found himself sat in that bleak chamber with some poor unfortunate soul, who had been frightened into admitting nothing more than petty crimes.

He’d argue such tactics were unnecessary. Running his hand frustratingly through his hair for the umpteenth time, Mingi mentally braced himself for whatever...or rather whoever awaited for his arrival.

Rounding the corner, his brows arched up with surprise upon seeing the King standing in front of the chamber doors. The troubled look that replaced the King’s usual ebullient features prompted Mingi to straighten his posture immediately; this was sure to be a serious matter.  “Good afternoon Sire…”

Yunho turned towards the rich baritone voice of the Guard Captain and rigid shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the sight of one of his most trusted.    

“Captain Song,” Yunho nodded in acknowledgement, “Although I’m not sure if it’s entirely good at all.”

Mingi’s forehead creased but remained silent to allow the King to further elaborate about his plight.

“The Queen’s aquamarine diamond parure has been stolen, and I suspect a selection of other jewels too. Those I care not for as much as the diamond parure…it’s got high sentimental value as it was passed down within the family from my great-great-grandmother.”

“That certainly isn’t good at all. Has the perpetrator been caught yet, Sire?”

“As luck would have it, yes actually. And I’ve been told that you would be the perfect person to know how to handle this….situation,” at saying this Yunho fully turned to face Mingi. The falchion in his belt’s scabbard felt heavy and a million and one thoughts were running through his mind at once.

“Mingi…”  

Mingi could see the sincerity in Yunho’s eyes and the hesitation in spilling out the words that needed to be said.

“I hope you know that in any other circumstances, I would not be requesting you to deal with such matters that you have immense dislike for. I apologise for putting you in such a position. This…certain individual has crossed paths with you before and I’m hoping with that familiarity you may be able to coax them to reveal where the diamond parrure is. How you do so, I’ll leave that up to your discretion.”

Oh.

Well that wasn’t what Mingi was expecting to hear. A certain individual he’s familiar with?

He straightened his back and gave a determined nod of his head, “I shall do my best Sire. That room may be the bane of my existence but this matter is clearly of importance to you, let us hope the thief can be convinced to comply.”

“You have my utmost gratitude Mingi,” Yunho said, reaching his hand up to give Mingi’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way out of the grim dungeon hallway.

Mingi waited till the King was out of sight before turning to face the chamber. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his heart and pushed open the doors with slight force.  

“Well, well if it isn’t my favourite Captain of the guards. Come to keep me company for the evening?”

If he wasn’t already sweating before, he sure was now. That oh-so coquettish voice he’s grown to recognise almost immediately, fell on his ears.

You sent a cheshire grin to the tall figure, legs propped up on the worn-out wooden table and hands idly fiddling with the heavy brass shackles around your wrists. This certainly wasn’t the first time your paths had crossed but it was the first for you both to meet in a more dire setting.

Mingi feared for the implications of your capture.

Not just a mere thief of the streets but being the leader of Dusk Talons, the Royal Crown surely won’t pass up a chance to make an example of a core individual from the renowned thief guild.    

“You ought to close your mouth, otherwise the flies will get in.”

One of the guards closer to you brought his fist down on the table, a mere tactic meant to frighten you. However, all it got out of you was the bored glance you sent to the guard who started berating you for talking back to Captain Song.

Mingi let out a sigh, “That’s enough. I can take it from here, you all are dismissed.” The command was given to the other guards in the room as he settled into the chair across from you. They left without a fuss and silence encompassed the room, though not for long.

“Would you please be a dear and help with this?” you asked, chains jangling as you held out your cuffed wrists towards Mingi.

“It would seem that’s not needed at all,” a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “your handy work got the job done for you.”

“You’re no fun.”

Not admitting out loud, you were slightly impressed that the guard captain didn’t let your lock-picking slip by him. The shackles dropped on to the table and you made a show of stretching your arms out, body arching lithely off the chair. Your loose tunic rode up just shy of showing skin, causing Mingi to avert his eyes out of respect.

That widened your grin.

Mingi let out an awkward cough, any pre-planned script he had for questioning was abandoned. You weren’t entirely a stranger to him nor were you an acquaintance – if the laws even allowed for that. But Mingi didn’t feel right about making you go through the same interrogation protocol as previous criminals had to. You weren’t like them.  

“I can’t tell if you thrive off the riskiest raids or that you don’t fear anything nor anyone. Going after Her Majesty’s diamond parure? Of all things!”

An airy chuckle left you, “If I didn’t know better…you sound awfully worried for me, Captain.”

“Shouldn’t you be at least more careful? What would become of your family if something were to really happen to you?”

The grin on your face disappeared immediately.

Mingi continued when he didn’t hear a response, “I’ve seen you…giving food and gold back to those in the Lower Wrean. I know some of the funds for the city’s orphanages are provided by your guild. And that one time…the only reason why you led the attack on our eastern outpost was to rescue a few of your own and relocate some of the nomad camps away from potential crossfire. You don’t abandon family, right?”

These were the things that convinced Mingi, you weren’t really all bad. Questionable choices? Sure. Morals? A little grey. Although underneath the layers, your intentions have always stemmed from a compassionate heart.  

“What’s to the rich if they lose a few here and there? They have far more than enough, so to us, they’re top of the list of contributors.”

Mingi remembered you telling him that when he had first caught you escaping from one of the noble’s house. Your guild only ever stole from the rich and it was a bonus if the corrupted was targeted too. Mingi, who then was still under the command of the previous captain, hesitated to pursue. For his moral compass went spiralling. Being bound to carry out his royal duty or close a blind eye because he empathised with what you stood for.  

Empathy.

Nothing more than a weak link, according to his captain. There was little room for that, just as grey had no place among Aethevintis’ black-or-white justice system.

Hence, a thief was still a thief at the end of the day. Even for a good cause, by definition you were on the opposing side.

You continued to observe Mingi in silence, with a neutral expression, as you let his words sink in. Captain Song was much different than his predecessors. An unspoken level of mutual respect had developed between you both somewhere along the way of your encounters. The way he led with his heart rather than blind authority was admirable.

“We do what we must to get by. My family…as you so kindly put it…are capable of adapting to whatever circumstances are thrown their way. Risk is an inevitable norm for us.”

At least, you could appreciate Mingi looking at you without that faux sympathy.

“And I’ve lived doing what I do best…that is to survive. Being careful only gets you so far but being smart, well, you could go just about anywhere with that.”  

With a rather loud yawn you broke the tension in the dim room. The grin reappeared back on your face and you slinked backwards on the chair. Mingi was contemplating on whether switching back to the original subject of this…talk…would be a good idea or not. He needed a starting basis, a hint of sorts from you in order to give direction where he’d be searching for the missing parure.  

Betting on the fact that you don’t wholly despise him, Mingi tried his luck. “Now I do have a job to complete, and I’m sure we both would rather spend our time elsewhere other than down here…”  

“Aww, I thought we were having a good time getting to know each other better. Don’t get to do that as much on the streets now, do we?”

“What have you done with Her Majesty’s parure?” asked Mingi, keeping his tone levelled.

“You sure are set on that huh? What’s in it for you if you successfully retrieve the jewels?”

Tilting your head, eyes sparking a challenge. Only to be met with determination glinting off Mingi’s own pair of dark chocolate brown orbs.

“Nothing more than the satisfaction of returning a precious family heirloom back to my King. It’s of great importance and sentiment to him.”

You wished you could find fault in his resolution. Yet again, Mingi was nothing but honest in answering you.  

Surely, you could play a little nicer this time, right?

“Hmm, I’ll think about it. I’m feeling rather parched as well…any chance I could get some fresh water?”

Sensing you weren’t going to give in anytime soon, Mingi drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Standing up he offered, “And I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat?”

“You’re offering?”

“This is an interrogation chamber, not a torture one.”

Mingi left to gather the necessities. Head filled with too many conflicting thoughts, that he missed the growing grin on your lips and the space where the dungeon keys previously sat on his belt.  

“THE PRISONER HAS ESCAPED!”

“FIRE IN THE COURTYARD!”

It was havoc.  

The thunderous sound of fireworks broke through the tranquil evening. Catching everyone by surprise and confusion arose as to why bursts of colourful sparks were going off within the palace grounds. When some of the flag banners and trees caught fire from the stray sparks, it caused a flurry of panic.

And to make matters worse – the guards had lost you.

Mingi finished over-seeing the last batch of palace staff into the safe area. “All palace guards are to stay by the doors to the throne room and west wing! No one is to leave or enter until my unit and I have done a final sweep of the grounds, “ he ordered.

Part of the team was put in charge of getting the fires under control. He deduced the fireworks were set off as an intended distraction and, a successful one at that too. Mingi’s priority was now to prevent you from escaping.

He heard the commotion and shouting before, “CAPTAIN! THE SOUTHWEST WALLS!”

You held your own and by the time Mingi had reached your location, the guards who were stationed there were knocked out cold on the ground. A minor cut bled slightly from your left cheek and you looked a little more roughed up than when Mingi had last seen you.

“Here I was thinking this would be a clean goodbye…” you said, securing the rope around your waist that Mingi noticed was tied to the stone merlons. He also saw a couple of dark-coloured pouches with you that weren’t present on your attire during the interrogation.

Three guesses as to what filled those pouches.

You followed his eyes to where they were fixated on, “Ah yes, amongst thieves it’s the number one rule to not hide our spoils on ourselves…lest we get caught.”

A series of sharp whistles was heard. The signal that your guild had completed their tasks and was awaiting to reunite with their leader down below at the meeting point. You blew three consecutive similar whistles back in response.

“Wait!”

You paused with one foot up on the stone edge. Turning back to look, you saw Mingi’s hand hover slightly over his falchion.

“Are you going to try and stop me?”

‘No. But I will ask once more, where is the diamond parure? I know the cold season approaches and you’ll need all the resources you can get. Those gold and other jewels you’ve got there should be sufficient enough. So please….”

Having already made your decision the moment you slammed the doors to the chamber out, simultaneously breaking the noses of the unsuspecting guards, you knew what you had to do. But that didn’t prevent you from adding a little dramatic flair.

After all, you want to stay memorable in Captain Song’s books.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Your voice dripping with light sweetness, eyes locked on his as you made your way right up to him. Your hand darted out to grab his falchion and on reflex, Mingi intercepted – large calloused warm hand latching around your wrist.

“But maybe that’s what makes so different from the others…” You flipped his hand so it faced palm up, and placed a familiar cobalt blue pouch on it. “You’re a good man, Captain Song. Thinking with your heart doesn’t make you weak…this world needs more of that, more of people like you.”

You watched his shoulders fall with relief and the look he had in his eyes change into something you couldn’t quite discern. Mingi nestled the pouch carefully towards his body, the delicate clinking confirmed its fragile contents within. And he didn’t feel the need to look inside for confirmation; he trusted you.

“If we were to meet in another lifetime, I hope we’d be on better terms then. Preferably one leaning closer to friends.”

A genuine smile crept up from the corners of your lips upon hearing Mingi’s words.

“That sounds rather nice, actually.”

You could definitely use a friend like Mingi in your second lifetime, should fate ever be so kind to give you another shot.

“CAPTAIN!”  

The clamouring of guards and blades being drawn drew closer and you could hear the running of feet up the stairs.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. And I am so sorry for doing this but…”

And you physically winced when you sent a knee to his gut, causing Mingi to collapse and gasp for air.

“…Captain Song wouldn’t go down without a fight and this makes it look less like you just let a scummy thief off the hook.”

Mingi waved his other gloved hand, “I…understand – you ought to hurry…” he managed to cough out the words.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

With that, Mingi watched you leap over the wall’s edge just as back-up from his unit arrived. Not only did you leave him with the Queen’s jewels and potentially a bruise or two, you also left him with a new sense of comfort.

Two worlds apart. Two unlikely individuals who were both willing to cross the bridge that’s been built to fill the gap, to meet in the middle.

Yeah, this was a change he could get used to.

“Thank you Captain Song!” cheered the orphans, watching with admiration at how effortlessly Mingi climbed the tree to recover their kite that got stuck in the tall branches.

He soon found his legs to be attacked with hugs from several pairs of petite arms.  

Mingi returned the affections with gentle head pats and a, “Be careful not to run too fast and watch where you’re going!”  

The townspeople greeted him as he patrolled his rounds. Even scoring a ruby red freshly-picked apple from one of the vendors. Today would be a breeze. Golden rays of the sun shone down warmly and the morning air was still crisp. Mingi was already planning to finish his shift early and go see if he could convince Yunho to sneak away from royal duties for a round of archery out by the fields.

“STOP! THIEF!”

Just like that, his trail of thoughts were cut short. Mingi snapped his attention towards the direction where the yelling came from. Jogging over to where the crowd had gathered, he was nearly bowled over by a fleeting figure.  

Upon making eye contact for that split second, he could recognise your mirthful eyes from anywhere.

Your eyes crinkled with delight and being bold as to send a wink his way. But your feet never stopped sprinting and within seconds, Mingi had lost you among the sea of townspeople who still went about their business on the street.    

“THEY WENT THAT WAY!”

Mingi looked back to see some of his unit tailing after a few hooded figures who disappeared into the maze of alleyways. Your guild sure knew the layout of the town inside out.

A sigh escaped him. So much for finishing up early for the day.

But if it was a chase you wanted, then it would be a chase you’ll get. Being the respectful gentleman that he was, he’d let you have a head start of course.

Maybe one day, when he’s old and cranky, worn out to his bones – he’d stop running in circles after you.

Luckily for you both, today wasn’t that day.

[siennahrobek]

Warning - This is long

Chapter 11 – Saudade

Future Past

18 BBY

Luke is One year old

“Well, this is it. This is now my life,” Obi-Wan said, standing in the middle of his little hut, in the middle of the desert. There was nothing here, just sand and rock and bones. It would have been nice, a quiet place to meditate, if there wasn’t the looming threat of the empire, or the grief of losing the entirety of his people or the oppressive twin suns of the planet.

Perhaps if he left now, he could catch up with the resident herd of banthas. The nomadic life sounded fairly appealing at the moment.

“You know, when I said I wanted to just spend some time meditating in a cave, this is not what I meant,” he pointed out to the air. He wasn’t actually talking to anyone, he didn’t think anyone had even been listening. After all, he really was by himself.

“I’d say it is nicer than a cave.”

Until now, Obi-Wan’s old master didn’t really make casual conversation so his appearance, or rather, voice coming from thin air was a bit on the unexpected side. Their talks were mostly of the teaching variety.

He wondered what changed.

Perhaps it was him.

Maybe he was going crazy, and Master Jinn had to do something rather desperate so Obi-Wan wouldn’t lost his mind completely. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“I think I need a hobby,” the new hermit said with a nod. Yes, that seemed right.

“Do you really think you are going insane?”

Obi-Wan scowled, glancing around as if the speaking person would appear. Qui-Gon didn’t really appear, at least not in a way that Obi-Wan could see. He just heard his voice, clear as day. Or rather, clear as crystal or water or clear things. He didn’t know. Sometimes it felt hard to think. “Don’t read my mind,” he grumbled.

“I am apparition of the Force,” the voice was flat and steady, nearly laced intricately with sarcasm. Of course. “I couldn’t read minds when I was alive, what makes you think I can do it dead?”

The physically living master huffed, loud and dramatic, waving his arms as if that would make his point. “I don’t know what ghosts can do!” he nearly shouted. It wasn’t like anyone else could hear him. Even the closest person was many, many miles away.

Obi-Wan could almost hear his former master roll his eyes and feel his sarcasm and mock distain rise. “I’m not reading your mind. I can’t do that. I just know you.”

“I have changed a lot in the past fifteen years,” he shot out.

“Not as much as you think,” Qui-Gon hummed, a bit vaguely amused. His voice had quieted, softened but it still, as always, seemed so confident, so sure of himself. Obi-Wan wondered if he naturally had that type of pride and ego or if he had gotten it somewhere. Obi-Wan could probably use some of that, he mused as Qui-Gon continued to speak. “At your core, you are still the same. A jedi. Stubborn, protective, determined, persistent, good, kind, selfless. Just as you were as a padawan.” By the end of the list, Qui-Gon had almost, perhaps, sounded a bit even fond. Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure if he was a good judge of what it was.

“You did not see me that way.” The words were coming out when his brain had not given permission. It hardly mattered. Talking with ghosts.

“Now look who thinks he can read minds,” Qui-Gon contemplated, unperturbed and not so offended. He sounded a bit amused, like this was so ironic. He could find humor in anything, apparently, a skill Obi-Wan thought he once had. “I was very proud of you. I am still, exceedingly, proud of you.”

“Now I know I’m hallucinating,” he scoffed.

“Is it so hard to believe, of my pride? In you of all people?”

Yes, Obi-Wan thought. Of course, it is. How can anyone be proud of what he had done, of what had happened, what he had let happen? “You told me to train the boy,” he said, his voice strained and uneasy. He shook his head and fought back tears that threatened to leap forth from his eyes. “And look how that turned out? I did, I tried, I loved him. And now all the jedi are dead. The Sith have won and the galaxy has been left in oppressing darkness.”

There was a brief silence, a contemplation of words. “That is not your fault, Obi-Wan. You are not the one to blame. His choices were his own.” Qui-Gon’s voice was kind and soft, and Obi-Wan could just barely remember the few times, even early in his apprenticeship where Qui-Gon hadn’t been completely upset and regretful with him where he used that tone. When Obi-wan had a vision, or a dream, as Qui-Gon liked to call him. When Obi-Wan was scared and there was no immediate danger to Qui-Gon’s other loved ones. The beginning of their relationship had been more than just a little rocky but that just meant their bond had grown strong through those trials. It had taken long, and it had taken work, but eventually, they made it. And they had been amazing.

“I loved him,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I did not see what he had become.”

“No one had,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice lowering. “You did so well, Obi-Wan. You tried so hard. Better than I. You praised him when called for and treated him as a person, not just a vessel for a prophecy of old. You are not perfect, padawan mine, no one is. But this is not your fault.”

“I do not know why he did it,” Obi-Wan confessed, shaking his head at the truth. He didn’t know and he wondered why every day. Was his love not enough? “I continue to be blind when it comes to him.”

“The dark ide obscures so much, even of which is nearest to us,” Qui-Gon continued, in that teaching voice where Obi-Wan understood and didn’t understand at all. It was an odd thing to miss, he knew, but he did, all the same. “How can one see when something so beyond your control blocks it so thoroughly?”

The younger and not so dead master buried his face in his hands. “It is all gone now.”

“You aren’t. Hope isn’t.”

“Luke is alive,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Leia is alive. They…they are…”

“Hope,” Qui-Gon finished. “Not just for the galaxy either. They are hope for you.”

11 BBY

Luke is eight/nine years old

“Ben?”

He was sleeping on the floor again, Luke thought to himself as he padded out of his room and into the main part of the ship. The boy wasn’t entirely sure why. There was plenty of room with him in the little area Ben had designated for him. For Luke. He had his own room back on Tatooine with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and it had been a lot bigger than this, but he didn’t mind. He found the smaller areas kind of cozy actually.

He had not slept well since Ben had come to take him away, after Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru went cold. At first, he had even tried to stay up, like Ben. But Ben must have some kind of superpower or something because no matter what he did, Luke could not stay up. He could not stay awake. Nightmares often plagued his sleeping times. And hyperspace was cold.

Ben looked up, his bleary gaze softening upon spotting Luke, and he moved himself into a seated position. “Are you alright?”

The child hugged himself, wrapping his arms around his torso in some kind of substitute for Ben’s cloak. He didn’t really want to admit to bad dreams. Surely almost being nine, was an age where he could deal with them. He shouldn’t be scared.

Ben, of course, knew anyways.

It was so wizard, the way he just knew things. Biggs was probably right; he must actuallybe a wizard.

“Nightmares?” Ben mused when Luke didn’t answer. “Dreams pass in time.”

Luke just nodded even though he didn’t really understand.

“But, I suppose, that is not so comforting in the moment, is it?” he hummed and stood up, his joints making gross cracking noises as he did. “Come, I will make you some tea. I have a blend that might help.”

Luke perked but tried to temper his excitement and interest. It had only been a week since Ben introduced him to the wonder and ability of tea. It’s warmth and ability to fight the cold of hyperspace. A week since Luke declared he wanted to try all of them.

It was a start.

The tea Ben gave him tasted different than the first one. Physically even warmer, something more soothing. It was calming and it felt like his heart and head were slowing down. It was not long until his eyes started to droop. And then, suddenly, it was like sleep felt like a good idea. He didn’t fear it as much or the nightmares.

He trusted Ben.

And if Ben said the tea would help, Luke would believe him.

Ben didn’t lie to him.

Afterwards, he led Luke back to his bunk and started to tuck him in, bringing blankets up his torso to his neck. Luke just tugged at the billowing sleeve of his robe, attempting to pull him down with him. Ben thought he was trying to get his attention. “Yes, Luke?”

“Stay with me?” he pleaded.

The older man hesitated but exhaled and nodded. “Okay, beacon. Okay.”

6 BBY

Luke is eleven years old.

“Alright Luke,” Ben smiled warmly, filling his presence with kindness and love, as much as he could imbue. The boy next to him, barely a mop of blonde hair visible, grinned and snuggled close to his side, curling even more under his large robe. He would have to get another one, Ben mused to himself. Luke was growing bigger every day and he seemed to really like hiding underneath there. Ben would have to compensate in the size of his robes as he grew.

They were on planet side and even spending a few nights there as of the moment. Stopping for supplies was often frequent and short. Usually if Ben was lucky, he could get a small job or do some things for people that would help him get resources, food or fuel. This planet, however, it had turned out, it was monsoon season and for the next few days, no one could even manage to get to or off the ground.

Ben had scrounged up enough credits to pay for a decent – but quite small – room, to wait out the worst of the storm. It was loud and the harsh semi-solid rain pounded against the roof and walls, wailing in some sort of sad and grieving song. It was a bit frightening to the youngster, but Ben was a bit amazed on the comfort Luke could find within Ben’s presence and at his side.

“We have quite some time to burn, and not a lot to do,” he offered, lightly, curling the blankets around them further and making sure the pillows were stacked up enough to support their weight on the bed. There was only one, but Luke was still rather small, and Ben wasn’t an overly large being, they could fit. Would you like to play Obnoxiously Long Explanations?”

Luke laughed, as he always did when he suggested that. The title was something that Luke himself had suggested after he asked a question and Ben had gone on a rather long tirade explanation on the subject. The boy’s attention had barely faltered, as the topic was rather of interest to him, but the next time it happened, Luke had used the term and it kind of stuck for those types of talks.

“Yes please!” he cheered, wriggling under his cloak and peering through, his blue eyes shining in excitement. He practically begged in that moment, squirming even further until Ben felt he could take no more. “Can I go first? Please? Please?”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, the lines around his eyes wrinkling in a true, genuine smile. Luke always wanted to go first, which Ben could understand. He was young, with many questions. Many questions, especially, since he knew what Ben was and that was a topic, he would constantly have questions for. “What would you like to know?”

“The Jedi!” Luke nearly screeched, his voice rising.

“Your father?” Ben asked, expectantly.

Vehemently, Luke shook his head. “No. Yours.”

That surprised Ben and for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; he did not know how. He was fairly certain that he had told Luke about the type of bonds and child rearing of the jedi. It was a bit more communal than most places, as force sensitives more often than not, faired better with their own, together in groups. “I have no father,” he decided on.

Luke was not deterred, and his tone just grew in excitement and impatience. He was trying to get his point across, surely. “Your jedi master! Tell me about your master. And hismaster! And HIS master!” As he went on, his voice got louder and happier. His enthusiasm was heartwarming and hilarious. Ben loved it and he was more than happy to oblige him. It had been some time since Luke’s encounter with Master Jinn as a Force apparition and his curiosity was overflowing.

“Why,” Ben gaped in mock surprise. “That would take all night.”

Ah, rarely did Ben get his own question in, anyways.

“YAAASSSS!” Luke nearly jumped up with his happy shout, bumping into Ben’s side and arm rather forcefully. There would certainly be a bruise there tomorrow. There was a slam as the headboard of the bed hit the wall behind them, echoing a loud noise through the room. Both of them exchanged surprised and vaguely entertained looks and suppressing giggles.

“Quite little beacon,” Ben hushed him, bringing up his hand with a smile. He couldn’t help himself; the boy was right adorable. “We must be courteous to our neighbors.”

The young boy quieted himself and shrunk in just a bit of shame, he turned towards the headboard and kneeled up from underneath the cloak, nearly bringing his forehead to the wall in some kind of quiet, solemn pledge. “My apologies, gentle beings. I vow to be better,” he whispered to the wall.

Ben could only watch in amusement. Luke looked back up at him, waiting and trying to be patient. But then he sat back down and carefully wrapped part of Ben’s cloak around himself again, curling his legs under his body. He was so eager, the want so great. Ben tried not to see Anakin in his eyes. But Anakin many times wanted to know about Qui-Gon. His hero worship for a dead man he knew for a handful of days was rather astounding.

If he only knew.

He wondered if Luke felt the same. It was interesting he thought. Perhaps all Skywalkers had an interest and love for the maverick jedi, despite both of them had barely known the man.

What did that say?

“Well,” Ben started, slowly, trying to figure out a good place to start. The training lineage itself seemed to be what Luke was after. He wondered how far it would go, how far Luke wanted it. “Master Jinn master was a man from Serenno named Count Dooku. Dooku, in turn, was trained by Master Yoda.”

Luke glanced at him as if he thought he was being tricked, his eyes narrowing in serious suspicion. Ben bit back a laugh, it was amusing to see. “Doesn’t Master Yoda train everyone?” he asked, his voice drawing out in a slow drawl.

Ben nodded. “Yes. But Dooku was Master Yoda’s padawan.”

“Padawan,” Luke tested the word on his tongue, and took care doing it, like it was something he should be respectful of. Like it was important. It should have been, Ben thought bitterly. Luke should have been a jedi, able to find a master he would connect with in a way where that relationship was beloved. Ben knew Anakin probably wouldn’t have wanted Luke to be a Jedi, but Ben couldn’t quite imagine him not. The boy, even at nine years old, had wanted it so badly. “What does that mean?”

“It is the jedi term for apprentice,” Ben started to explain, trying to keep things easy for Luke to understand. The boy was smart for his age but even he knew that Ben had a tendency to go a little overboard at times, “but… it is a little more than that. It is a personal relationship, you learn from your master, spend much time with them and go on missions together.”

Luke considered this and beamed, so bright and happy and beautiful. The thought on his mind was something he was so proud of. “Like us!”

Ben tried not to falter. How could he tell Luke that he could never take him on as a padawan? If he hadn’t completely failed Anakin, hadn’t lost everything. The word was dangerous. Even a mere mention of it was something he had to be careful of. The Empire was extremely prejudice about it, about even thinking that someone may be a jedi or a jedi Padawan. He did not answer. “So,” he continued on their original topic instead. “Count Dooku learned more closely from Master Yoda. Master Yoda has had many padawans. Count Dooku, once upon a time, was my grandmaster, which meant he trained my master, who trained me. He was from a planet called Serenno and was a royal, making him a count.”

“Count Dooku….” Luke tried, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the name and the man behind it. “What was he like?”

“I did not know him as a padawan,” Ben confessed, which was true. He wasn’t entirely sure if Dooku just had not wanted to see him, if he wasn’t living up to the Count’s standards or if Qui-Gon just had not wanted Ben to meet him. Or both, he supposed it could have been both. “I didn’t meet him until much later.”

“Is that strange?”

Ben hummed as he thought about this. “Sometimes, I suppose,” he replied. It had been quite some time before he realized what lineage lines more often than not, were. All jedi, padawans, initiates, even knights, had been trained and taught by many others, even those outside of the lineage. Ben had spent quite some time with several others when he was a young knight. Master Drallig had been one, when he had decided to change his primary form. Eventually he had gone to Master Billaba, a known and excellent practitioner of Soresu for guidance. Ben had not seen or met much of his lineage and those he had, were often evil or dead. Xanatos was not someone he wanted to be associated with, as he had gone dark. As well as Dooku’s last padawan, Vosa and then Dooku himself. His teaching lineage was rather a mess.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that another had fallen so far.

“Many grand masters are often around, some even help teach their padawan’s padawan,” he added, cautiously.

“But he didn’t,” Luke replied, a bit slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying it.

“No,” Ben shook his head. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He would never really know and his old master, even as a ghost, was not exactly forthcoming with answers, especially when it came to Count Dooku. “He and Qui-Gon had a bit of falling out and often did not see eye to eye.”

“Did you get to meet him?” Luke asked.

“Ah…yes,” he nodded again, although he bit his lip. That was rather complex. Ben hadn’t met him as a jedi but rather, once the older man had fallen to the dark side and had become a sith apprentice. He imagined Dooku became quite different through the transition. “He had become a different person by then and had left the jedi.”

“He became bad.”

“He did bad things, yes,” Ben agreed, careful with his words and his tone. Count Dooku was both an interesting and uneasy topic, but he still had to be cautious with how he said things to an easily impressionable child. “But he wasn’t bad for leaving the jedi. Leaving the jedi isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Why would anyone want to leave the jedi?”

Ben nearly wanted to laugh. Luke said it in such a way that it seemed ridiculous, leaving the jedi. He probably should not have told him all the times he had left or had threatened or thought about leaving. Sometimes the cause was different. “Sometimes, things change. Some people discover it is not the type of life they want to live. There is not shame in it,” he reminded, gentle and patient.

“I want to be a jedi.”

Oh, he sounded so sure. Once upon a time, Anakin had sounded sure.

“I know,” he replied, sensible and slow. He would not berate Luke for wanting this, after all, he could sense it. “But it is okay if you end up changing your mind too.”

“I won’t,” Luke affirmed with a light shrug. “Why did Count Dooku leave?”

“He did not agree with some of the jedi leaders,” Ben explained. It was a bit vague but understandable for the youngster. In all honesty, Ben himself wasn’t entirely sure of all the intricacies behind Dooku leaving and his fall. The two were connected, no doubt. But not everyone who left the jedi became like him. Became like Xanatos or Anakin. “And a man, he told Dooku things, some lies, some things true, from a point of view.”

“But he did bad things anyways,” Luke said, curious but adamant.

“Yes. He hurt people.”

“Did you fight him?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“I wish I could have seen it,” Luke said, wistfully, his eyes glimmering into something of desire. He huffed lightly at the thought. Skywalkers are their obsession with lightsaber fighting. “I bet you fight amazing.”

Ben smiled, a bit uneasily. “I was…an adequate warrior. Count Dooku was a legendary swordsman. One of the best. It took a long time before anyone defeated him.”

“Who beat him?”

“Your father, actually.”

“What?! Really?! That’s so cool! Were you there?”

Ben hummed and nodded. “Yes, Count Dooku was not so easily beaten but your father did it. Dooku, aside from his lightsaber skills was a ruler of a planet and had something of a silver tongue.”

“What is that?”

“He’s very good at talking. Very calm and collected, rarely could one say things that surprised him of caught him off guard,” he explained.

“Kinda like you?”

“Pardon?”

“You are really good at taking,” Luke said seriously, looking up at him.

“I am…alright,” Ben replied, nearly choking on the words. It had been quite some time since someone noticed that. It had been a long time since he had been considered a diplomat, an advisor, a negotiator.

“Can you teach me? To talk like you?”

“Uh…we will see,” Ben chuckled, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. He had once tried to teach Anakin the nuances of speech, especially when it came to speaking with politicians and other scum of the galaxy, but he was more intent on learning about aggressive negotiations. Or at least, that with a lightsaber. Then again, he had never really asked, never really found interest in learning that of the sort. Luke was not Anakin and Ben just had to remind himself of that. Some days were easier than others.

“How many… pada…padawans did Dooku have before he left?” Luke stumbled on the unfamiliar word.

“His first was Rael Aveross, second my master, Qui-Gon Jinn and third, Komari Vosa.”

“Tell me about Master Jinn!”

Of course. Of course. “Are you sure? We can’t go back…”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, alright,” Ben laughed, keeping his tone light and a bit quiet, trying not to disturb the neighbors. It was getting rather dark and late out and no doubt some beings were, in fact, trying to sleep. He started to explain some things that he remembered about his old master, starting with the big things and swirling down to the more minute details. It was a bit fascinating how much Ben remembered, even after over twenty-five years. It was hard to imagine it had been so long. It was hard to imagine that so little time had passed. “Master Jinn was known to be a bit of a maverick. He just… kind of did what he wanted.”

Luke sighed, overly dramatic, throwing his hands up in the air.

That garnered Ben’s curiosity. “What is it?”

“Does no one follow the rules?”

Ben laughed, a bit loud and hearty. He would have never expected something like that to come from a Skywalker’s mouth. “Yes. Master Jinn wasn’t known for following rules. Sometimes this worked in his favor, other times it did not. He was quite the character.”

“He told me something about the Living Force,” Luke asked, uncertainly.

“Did he visit you?”

Luke nodded.

Ben rolled his eyes. “No regard for rules,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll tell him,” Luke said, seriously and Ben absolutely believed him. The boy didn’t go around making promises he did not intend to keep. It was something he rather admired about the boy, even already at his age. “If he does it again.”

“What did he try to tell you?”

“Well, he talked about the Living Force…”

Ben explained what he meant by that, as well as the difference between the living and cosmic/unifying force in a way that he hoped was easy to understand for Luke. It was a bit of a tangent, and he thought the lesson was good and Luke just rolled his eyes at the descripted antics of Ben’s old master. Ben was secretly glad he wasn’t the only one. “Master Jinn…he liked plants and animals, generally things that could and would easily kill a person,” Ben grumbled, but his tone was quite fond. Of course at the time, when Master Jinn was alive, it had been annoying, but over time, Ben had even come to appreciate other lifeforms in the way of faun and flora. “I had to take care of many of his pathetic lifeforms.”

“Pathetic lifeforms,” Luke giggled, trying to keep quiet. “That’s funny. Can we get a pathetic lifeform?”

Ben chuckled; a bit nervous. Oh no, he could not go through that again. “Uh no. I don’t think that would be wise…but maybe, perhaps, we can see about getting a plant.”

“Let me guess, one that doesn’t eat people?”

“I think that would be best, don’t you?” Ben smiled, a bit mischievous. This was progress. He can work with a plant, sure. Perhaps it would help teach Luke responsibility as well.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But I want a cool one though.”

Present Past

Anakin

“Angel,” Anakin smiled warmly as Padme’s visage popped up over the table. Even through the holocall, she looked as radiant as ever. Obi-Wan was asleep and Anakin just needed to talk to someone. If it wasn’t Obi-Wan, who he knew he had to speak to, he was lucky it was her. He had thought about the Chancellor, but he imagined the man was rather busy at the moment.

Padme just smiled back and shook her head, mockingly hopeless in her expression. She quicky frowned a little bit, as though she remembered something, and her eyes went worried. “Ani. I heard Obi-Wan crashed. Is he okay?”

He wilted at the change of topic, immediately.

“You won’t believe what has happened,” he sighed, running his flesh hand through his hair. He supposed he did want to talk about Obi-Wan. It was unusual affair when it came to her; as he usually didn’t want to talk about him unless he was letting off steam, but Anakin was confused, he didn’t know what was going on or how to proceed. Perhaps Padme could help. She helped with everything else, so why not this. “Obi-Wan…isn’t Obi-Wan.”

Her expression turned flat, and he could see she did not appreciate what she thought must have been a joke. “What does that mean?”

“This is going to sound crazy, he admitted. And it really was.

“Crazier than Mortis?”

He winced as he remembered that absolutely horrible mission. Where Ahoksa had died. Where he had apparently been turned to the dark side. Where his memories were fuzzy and cold and dark. He only remembered parts of that mission and honestly, he didn’t care too much of trying to regain the memories. “Just about.”

“What happened?”

“It appears….it appears, Obi-Wan has time traveled.” Oh, that coming out of his mouth sounded so weird, so wrong.

She laughed, hollowly, but quicky realized he was genuine and stared at him, wide eyed and surprised. “You cannot be serious.”

He nodded, feeling a bit mute. “Master Vos confirmed it. It’s so messed up.”

“Do we win the war?”

He was a little surprised that it was the first thing she thought of the first thing she asked, especially considering her previous concern about Obi-Wan specifically but then again, she was a senator. She had a stake and claim in the outcome of this war. She wanted it over. She wanted to win.

“It doesn’t sound like it,” he grumbled, still bitter. He didn’t know much about anything when it came to the future. Sure, Obi-Wan hadn’t yet much time to talk since he just woke up, but he still hadn’t said much of anything about it. He certainly didn’t talk to Anakin personally. “I don’t know much at this point. Obi-Wan is not a jedi, he’s on the run and I’m dead. You should have seen him, Padme. I don’t even know where to begin! When he saw me, he pulled a saber on me. A lightsaber! He was going to kill me but then he just…. dropped and hugged me instead! He knows who the Sith Master is but he’s acting so strange…” his ramble finally started to slow down as his mouth just kind of ran out of words to spout out.

Padme stared at him through his rant and then the holo call began to move as she sat down. Probably a good idea, he thought. This was a lot to take in. “This…this is a lot to take in,” she admitted, mirroring his thoughts. “He didn’t tell you who it was?”

He shook his head. “He said its…it’s complicated. He’s paranoid about giving information. He doesn’t trust me! I knew it!” his voice became louder and angrier as he went on, the feeling billowing in his chest.

She just sighed and shook her head, as if she was exasperated with him. He hated it when she looked and felt like that, especially with him. “Did he tell anyone else about the identity?”

“Well, no,” he grumbled.

“Then it’s not you, Ani,” she pointed out, her voice calm and patient and kind. With his mind on Obi-Wan, it seemed somehow reminiscent of how his old master used to speak with him when he was a child. A child to be calmed and pacified. He was not entirely sure how he felt about that. “He’s scared and he doesn’t seem to understand what is going on.”

“He doesn’t even think this is real.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thinks the Sith caught up with him and is manipulating his mind,” he huffed, rubbing his temples, as if that would just take everything away. He had a persistent headache. From what, he wasn’t entirely sure. “We haven’t been able to convince him otherwise yet.”

“It’s pretty clear that he has been through a lot,” Padme replied, a bit slowly and Anakin’s chest grumbled in that continued tone. He was not a child to be placated. “Paranoia probably kept him alive. Try to be patient with him. This has to be very scary and strange to him.”

Anakin groaned and nearly flopped over. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t even imagine how he would react in Obi-Wan’s shoes. Probably better, or worse, he grimaced. It was difficult to think about. “I knowwwww…. I just. Augh. He’s taking a nap and then he wants to meditate.”

“Maybe that will help him accept this,” she offered. “You know he always feels better after meditation, even if you don’t.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“Do you know anything else about the future?”

“Not much. I can’t imagine it’s good, if Obi-Wan of all people is on the run.”

“And you are dead,” she pointed out worriedly. “I might be too.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean?”

“Ani…” she started, keeping her voice slow still. “He’s by himself. He’s your friend, your family. He’s my friend. I’m sure he knows we care about each other. I cannot imagine I would not help him if I had been able. Don’t you think he would try to help me if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“Something did,” she pointed out. She wasn’t wrong but the thought was much too horrible to even consider. He would never let anything happen to her. He didn’t think he would let anything happen to Obi-Wan either, some dark part of him realized, but something had. He had allowed that to happen by dying. “Something so horrible, Obi-Wan is all alone. No friends, no family, no jedi.”

“Not completely alone,” Anakin realized. He hadn’t thought about Luke much in the past couple of hours and the thought was actually kind of shaking his core. Perhaps Padme could shed some light on his thoughts and theories.

���Pardon?”

“Someone came back with him, someone who isn’t even born yet in this time,” he said, trying to find the right words to describe him. He probably should not be talking about this whole-time travel thing with others; Master Windu and the Council seemed to want to keep it under wraps – like so many other things, he thought cynically. But Padme could be trusted. He could trust her. After all, if he couldn’t trust his wife, who would he trust? Some tiny voice deep inside him echoed his master’s name. “His name is Luke and he’s…. crazy protective. Wouldn’t even leave Obi-Wan’s side for a while.”

Padme just smiled, knowingly. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“That’s different,” he insisted, and it nearly stunned him how quickly he realized what she was talking about. Who, she was talking about. Him. “He’s, my master. We are a team. The best team.”

“And who is Luke?”

Anakin hesitated and glanced away. The idea had been vaguely bouncing around his head, but he hadn’t voiced it yet. “I think…. I think he might be Obi-Wan’s son.”

“No way.”

“I don’t know for sure,” he added, quickly, almost like he was trying to back track. The thought of Obi-Wan having a child at all was rather mind-boggling. Hypocritical maybe, because that meant he had an attachment, at least of some kind. “It’s just…he told Ahsoka his mother died in childbirth and his father…that it was complicated,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Why do you think he’s Obi-Wan’s son?”

“He’s force sensitive.”

“So are you and he’s not your son,” she pointed out, teasingly.

He snorted again; wasn’t that a thought. “He talks like Obi-Wan, you know, all posh and stuff. Was raised by him. And…do you remember the Duchess of Mandalore.”

“Satine Kryze?”

He nodded. Her eyes widened in understanding. If he recalled, he was pretty sure the Duchess and Padme were friends. She’d probably know, perhaps. “When we rooted out the traitor on her ship, she confessed her feelings and he told her he would have left the order if she asked.”

“Do you think she asked?”

“It seems likely, although I have a hard time imagining he would have done it before the war ended,” he admitted. “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine at all. He’s just…he’s got that perfect jedi thing going on.”

Even he knew that Padme was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She generally didn’t always completely agree on some of the things Anakin thought about his former master. “If the war ends and Obi-Wan is on the run, as you say,” she realized, thinking about this train of thought. “He may have fled to Mandalore.”

“Then she died in childbirth,” Anakin frowned. “It would have been…really quickly, right after the war. Luke is, like, fifteen, sixteen max.”

“Does he look like Obi-Wan?”

Anakin shook his head but then hesitated. “I don’t think so, but I haven’t really looked you know? I only spent a couple of hours with him and even then, I wasn’t really looking. He’s blonde, like the Duchess, so maybe he looks more like her?”

“We will have to check it out when you get back to Coruscant. Perhaps do a DNA test or something. That would certainly confirm things. You are coming back, right?”

Anakin hesitated. “Not…yet.”

She sighed.

“The colony of Kiros was taken by slavers,” he explained with a snarl at the word, his anger growing more profound as he realized what was happening, what type of mission they were taking on. Slavers. “Captain Rex and Luke were taken by Dooku.”

Padme looked worried but it was washed away with her expression of compete determination. “Then the Republic’s greatest hero has to go and save them.”

Anakin grinned at the praise. “Not to worry, milady, it shall be done.”

“And milady has work to do,” she laughed.

“Awww. Can’t you stay on longer?”

Something in her eyes glimmered. She was up to something, he knew it. “I do believe I have to do my own part,” she said, vaguely. “And you should probably be around Obi-Wan when he wakes up. He’s going to need you. We are going to win this war this time.”

“This time,” Anakin echoed.

Cody

Quinlan Vos was not exactly the kind of person Commander Cody would have expected General Kenobi to be friends with. He has heard a little of General Kenobi’s friends and life, pre-war, but he had heard things, gleaned from snippets from both General Kenobi, General Skywalker and other still. General Vos was someone General Kenobi complained about, but he did it the same way he complained about Skywalker, which made it clear that they were close.

They were friends. Close friends. Perhaps best friends, although from what Cody could tell, several beings like to try and claim that title. He was a bit curious on General Kenobi’s own thoughts on the matter.

Cody had been trying to keep himself busy while his general slept to prepare for the conflict that was undoubtedly in front of them. Boil and his group had been replaced for clean up on the planet. The trooper had already been ready for another fight when Cody explained what had happened to like and Waxer. Waxer was his best friend and Luke…no one was entirely sure what Luke was to them at this stage, but he was something. Something their troops cared about. Their trusted little fellowship was already fond of the boy, nearly as much as they were to Luke.

Needless to say, no one was happy upon discovering Luke and Waxer’s dilemma and situation. All of them prepared for the next assignment and then milled around the overall area where their general slept. Cody didn’t stop them. They knew about the future and even beside that, there was something else. A change they could feel.

Cody was talking to Barlex and Threepwood, quietly discussing next moves involving the chips. Commander Colt and Alpha-17 were already starting research and had discovered the location of the chip in their heads. It could be found by a level five atomic scan, something few ships had access to. Although, with the right equipment, the surgery did not appear too difficult.

“We need to talk to the jedi about this,” Threepwood said quietly. “You know what Luke did. He can help the droids scan and find the chips.”

“They probably also have access to the necessary scanners and droids,” Barlex added, his voice gruff as per usual.

“We have to be very careful,” Cody warned. “This information could cause widespread panic, or worse, word getting out to the Sith and the chips could be activated early.” It was a terrible thing to think about, much less consider. Even though he technically knew it had happened, happened to his general, it was hard to wrap his head around. He could not even imagine doing such a thing.

“We need help,” Threepwood insisted.

“We do not have the resources to de-chip the entire GAR while we fight this war,” Barlex agreed, although rather grudgingly. He didn’t always seem to like agreeing with other people. “Or the equipment, the time, the excuses.”

“I know,” Cody hissed.

“If you need boys de-chipped fast, contacting jedi healers and perhaps jedi with smaller clone attachments might be a good start.”

The three of them shut up quicky and spun around, lining up in front of the jedi general in perfect formation to salute in practiced smooth movements. “Sir!” one of them near shouted. Cody didn’t know who it was. He didn’t dare look.

“We didn’t…”

General Vos raised a hand, smirking subtly and casually. Cody wanted to feel relaxed, he really did. This was General Kenobi’s friend; couldn’t they trust him? He truly hoped so. “Don’t worry, I’m no snitch. Well, actually I am, but not in this case,” he smiled at his own joke, although it was a bit weak. “I know about the chips and what happened in Obi-Wan’s future.”

That helped ease the tension a bit. General Vos gave them a rundown on his specific abilities to give them a rational explanation to his access of knowledge. And then he continued to explain his suggestion. “There are healers stationed everywhere and if there is one thing they know, aside from healing, it is digression. They have any and all excuses, especially as jedi, to see troopers.”

“The surgery is apparently pretty easy,” Barlex also noted. “Luke did several with the help of a basic med droid, quickly.”

An eyebrow rose curiously. “Then it should definitely be faster and easier with actual healers. I can contact Master Healer Che and start proceedings in that area.”

“She’s your top coordinator?” Cody asked. He nodded. “Maybe start with the other healers, away from Coruscant.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Was he that obvious?

“The danger is centered there,” Cody replied, vaguely. The others glanced at him, but he didn’t meet their gaze. The speculation was just that…speculation but even if it was confirmed, if the chips didn’t spread mass panic, the acknowledgment and identity of the man behind all of this, would.

“I wanted to talk to you,” General Vos dropped it for now. “About Obi-Wan, Luke, steps going forward to prevent that future.”

“Barlex and Threepwood know,” Cody stated firmly, as General Vos glanced between the three of them warily. Cody answered his silent question immediately. “Luke asked me to gather some of the boys and he explained what he knew. They are de-chipped. Waxer knows.”

“He’s with Luke,” General Vos realized, after a moment. General Kenobi must have told him about Waxer, Cody thought. He couldn’t really believe that General Vos knew any of them by name. Before this, he hadn’t really spent much time with the 212thbattalion and the only one he ever really interacted with to some degree was Cody himself. “I am not certain of that will end up being a good or a bad thing.”

“He will do his duty.”

“I have little doubt,” General Vos agreed, a bit readily, to their surprise. “Who else knows?”

Cody didn’t think the names or even numbers would mean anything to the jedi, but he listed them off anyways. “The Medic,” General Vos realized as Cody went over Helix’s name and gestured for them to follow. They ended up in General Kenobi’s office which Barlex pointed out as they got in, his voice just flat enough not to sound too insubordinate or disrespectful.

“It’s easier to get into his mindset here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mentioned my psychometry. It’s linked to that. I got a lot from Luke before the battle,” he said, as they settled in. Everyone was still rather uneasy. “And even more from Obi-Wan. It’s…it is really bad.”

“We are forced to kill the jedi,” Barlex noted.

“Even the little ones,” Threepwood finished, quiet and pained at the thought. No one knew exactly who had marched on the Temple in General Kenobi’s past and their possible future. For all they knew it could have been them. Maybe it had been. Maybe not. It didn’t matter so much at this point; they still felt it rather keenly, almost as though they had personally done it. It was a horrible thought.

General Vos nodded. “Obi-Wan was unconscious when I got the information from him so… so I didn’t feel that in the way he felt it. I didn’t feel his pain and grief in the full force that I would have if he had been awake; just the…remnants of it.”

“You know who did it,” Barlex voiced something they had all realized.

“Pardon?”

“You know who attacked the Temple,” Cody answered for him, quietly. “You know who killed and massacred the children, the elderly, the sick and injured. You know who led them.”

General Vos didn’t let his face show anything. Cody wondered if that was a skill all Jedi knew because General Kenobi was good at that as well. It didn’t matter what he showed on his face and what he did not. His pause spoke volumes.

“Who was it?” Barlex nearly demanded.

Threepwood just froze. He didn’t want to know.

“Was it us?”

Vos’s response was immediately. “No. No, it wasn’t you.”

No one dared to let out the large breath they were all holding. It was uncomfortable, they were uncomfortable, and they knew it, even if it was not them, it had been someone.

Cody had a theory, a feeling.

He did not like it.

He wanted it verified, a desperate plea for himself to be wrong, but he did not voice it. He could not bring himself to. General Vos caught his eye. Cody just wilted.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, instead. “As long as we move quickly and quietly, it won’t happen at all. Obi-Wan is awake, as I’m sure you are all aware. At this point in time, he does not believe this to be real. He thinks that this is a complex Sith mind trick. This will be a lot more difficult if we cannot convince Obi-Wan of otherwise.”

“He will come to the right conclusion,” Cody affirmed. “He’s practical and smart. He will figure it out.”

“I imagine time travel is pretty difficult to wrap one’s head around,” Threepwood grimaced. “We were lucky, I think, having Luke around. He’s not born yet, and he knows things he couldn’t have known unless General Kenobi had told him.”

“We are heading to Zygerria,” General Vos continued. “General Koon and the 104thare going to Kadavo to retrieve the Kiros colonists, on Obi-Wan’s intelligence. We, in the meantime, are headed to the planet to get their governor and make some noise to attract Dooku,” he explained.

“Why?”

“We are fairly certain he has Luke and the missing troopers.”

The boys bristled. “They are dead, aren’t they?”

“We don’t think so,” he disagreed.

“Why? Count Dooku does not take trooper hostages,” Barlex pointed out.

“Usually, yes,” General Vos nodded. “But he thinks Luke is Obi-Wan’s padawan and, especially due to his very…sudden…disappearance, Dooku’s interest is undoubtedly high with him and the situation surrounding him.”

“And?”

“He will probably use the troopers as leverage, hostages,” General Vos confessed with a frown. “If Count Dooku wanted those troopers dead, I imagine we would have just found their bodies in the air base on Umbara. Luke is young and he is rather fond of you, it appears. They will make decent leverage.”

“He is,” Threepwood sighed.

“But what Luke knows about the future…could it be that valuable to Dooku?” Barlex asked. “Luke was born after the war.”

“I doubt Dooku, at this point, knows about the time travel and we think Dooku’s interest is in Luke’s relation to Obi-Wan. As most of you probably know… Count Dooku…he’s a bit fond of him.”

“He shows it in very strange ways,” Threepwood muttered.

“He is Obi’s grand master.”

Threepwood and Barlex sputtered.

“Count Dooku is General Kenobi’s grandfather?”

General Vos looked vaguely uncomfortable with the phrase but shook his head lightly, like that wasn’t exactly it. It wasn’t, Cody knew the jedi didn’t have grandfathers in the way that many other cultures did but that didn’t make those relationships any less personal. “Err…. not exactly but sort of? He trained Obi-Wan’s master, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“That is…. messed up,” Threepwood sighed.

“We want him to come to Zygerria. He’s in league with the slaver queen there, no doubt working some angle. According to Obi-Wan, he had gone to the planet last time when she didn’t quite…listen to the Count.”

“So, we are kind of doing the same thing?”

General Vos just smiled. “More like we are going to make a bit of a mess and kark some things up to get Dooku to come. Just a small team for now, lure him in and then attack with the 501st and 212th.”

“I can put together a task force, sir,” Cody said. He knew exactly who to bring.

“I would say you should probably stay on the ship, but I don’t think you will,” he cracked a sly grin.

“Barlex can cover,” Cody replied, readily, glancing at his brother. His gaze hardened in determination, and he nodded. “Besides, I think me being there, with Boil, might help.”

“How do you mean?”

“Both Boil and I were in the future, we lived…longer than most,” Cody explained but it was difficult to get through. He didn’t know much about the future and he didn’t particularly like talking about the fates of his brothers, as horrible as they were. As little as he knew, with only speculation and hypothesis to guide him through. “He’s a bit more comfortable around those people, especially Boil. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for him and he’s still alive in General Kenobi’s future.”

“He did mention him before,” General Vos noted.

“I brought him back from cleanup. He’s probably already talking with the General now,” Cody added. “General Kenobi prefers short power naps more than anything. The more comfortable he is with the squad, the more information we will get and the more likely he may be more inclined to believe.”

“And they won’t let anything happen to him,” Barlex vowed, darkly.

“Finally!” a new voice grumbled as the door was forced open. Helix burst in with a long sigh and a huff. “General, commander. I guess I should have known. I thought you would want to know. General Kenobi is awake.”

Ben

“Obi-Wan! Please!”

“It was only a dream, dear one. Dreams pass in time.”

“He will never want me.”

“You will never remind me.”

“Ben!”

“Obi-Wan!”

“I love you.”

“And you, you’ve grown sadder.”

“Trust in the Force.”

“I will not abandon you.”

“I would have chosen you over and over given the chance.”

“I foresee you becoming a greater jedi than I.”

“He was my best friend, my brother.”

“You can see that?”

“It’s just you and me, old man.”

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“I am so proud of you.”

“We were waiting.”

“I’m waiting.”

“You have become a far greater jedi than I could ever hope to be.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If In die here, it’s going to be your fault.”

“If I die here, it’s going to be with you.”

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone else.”

“I know what you wanted. I’m not leaving him.”

“You do.”

“We meet again.”

“It is all your fault.”

“LIES!”

“It’s over Anakin.”

“It hate you.”

“I love you.”

Ben’s inhale back into consciousness, coming from his slumber, was quick and deep, accompanied by a dry throat and wet cheeks.

“Welcome back, general.”

It took a rather embarrassingly long moment for Ben to put a finger on the name. It had been a very long time. He racked his brain, but eventually, the short-term memories came back forward. The star destroyer. Quinlan. Umbara 2.0. What did the Sith Lord want with staging this specific campaign? Surely, he would be smart enough to know Ben wouldn’t do the same things as last time; that surely, he would try to be better, do better, save more lives. No matter how hard he tried, Ben just couldn’t quite stop being a jedi. He wondered how the casualty counts compared to the first time around.

“Helix,” Ben murmured, a bit fondly. “It has been a while.”

“So, you have said,” Helix hummed, and Ben could feel him going over him, checking for anything and everything, going through his vitals while the jedi regained himself. “Longer for you than me, as your padawan says it.”

“My padawan?” Ben mused.

“Luke,” Helix supplied.

“Is that what he calls himself?”

“No,” Helix shrugged. “But it seems kind of obvious to us. Good kid, though. Kind, generous. Protective of you…and us, it appears.”

“He has always wanted to meet the people of my past.”

“Well, if you tell him a bunch of glory stories, that does not seem too surprising.”

“They were flattering ones, I assure you.”

“Not the ones where we kill all of you, I imagine.”

The plain facts and rational tone of Helix’s voice caught Ben off guard. He turned to stare at him in surprise, a little wide eyed. Oh, the man hadn’t changed a bit. He was just like how Ben remembered him over sixteen years ago. “You…how… I don’t know what you are talking about,” he settled on.

Look at that, he could be at a loss for words.

“Luke told us,” Helix confessed. “Got the chips out and everything. Just a few of the boys to start. I think he wanted some allies. The Commander, Gearshift, Trapper, Longshot, Threepwood, Barlex, Wooley, Crys, your favorites,” he smirked at the end.

Ben sputtered. “What…I do not-.”

“Don’t worry, general,” he just chuckled. “Everyone has favorites, and we get it. Care isn’t finite or whatever; jedi-way. We all know. Can’t say we completely blame ya, those two are surprisingly good with you. However, speaking of which, Commander Cody did pull some strings, so Boil came with us instead of staying on Umbara for cleanup.”

“He can to Kiros with us last time,” Ben mused, quiet and mostly to himself. “He wanted to get his mind off of…off of Waxer.”

“Waxer died on Umbara the first time, didn’t he?”

It wasn’t much to jump to that conclusion, apparently. He wondered what Luke had told them. Ben swallowed and nodded. “Friendly fire.”

“Commander Cody told me. He said Luke put a stop to it. As far as we know, currently, they are both still alive.”

“Things have already changed,” Ben mumbled. “Luke wasn’t here last time…could it…”

“Boil is coming up,” Helix said quietly. “It may be a few minutes. Would you like to talk to him? I know he isn’t your future version but perhaps a friendly and known presence might help ground you.”

“Ground me?”

“You confessed earlier that you believed this was a Sith trick; a mental manipulation orchestrated by the Sith,” Helix began to explain, only a bit hesitant.

Ben nodded.

“Maybe he could help,” he shrugged. “It’s a little difficult to see Boil as a grounding influence but well, who knows?”

“Alright,” Ben conceded. He rather thought he would like to see the trooper again anyways. Even if he may have just been a figment of this trick, Helix was not wrong, a friendly face would always be a blessing.

“It’ll be a couple of minutes. I have some boys to look over, can you handle a bit by yourself?”

He just laughed, lightly. “Of course, Helix. Go on.”

*

Arfour was not having a good time.

Her pathetic lifeform had finally awoken but he was just all over the place. Running around like a maniac, his vitals all over the place and nothing that came out of his person that made any sense. Not real? What was not real?

He looked at her as if he had not seen her in a very long time.

It had been not even a singular day.

She let the two humanoids speak and she waited for her turn quietly. [pathetic lifeform] was tired and confused but seeing [know-it-all] appeared to make him a bit more at ease. Some residents of the ship made him more at ease than others.

She took note of that.

[pathetic lifeform] smiled kindly at her as she rolled into his room beeping indignantly. Looking down at her, there was something, an expression, on his face that her current data banks just could not quite identify. “Ah, Arfour. I think we have some work to do.”

*

Boil’s face appeared in the doorway and all Ben could think was how young he looked. Last time he had seen Boil, he had much more scruff on his face, more wrinkles, grey hair. But he carried himself the same.

Ben wasn’t sure if even the Sith could duplicate that.

His expression instinctively softened at the sight of him. “Hello, Boil.”

The trooper shifted; a bit uncomfortable. Things were not the same as they were in the future; Ben had to be careful. “General. It’s good to see you awake. We…I mean some of the boys were worried.”

Ben nodded. “My apologies. That was not my intention.”

The trooper was fighting back his reactions, probably that of a disbelieving snort. He was trying so hard, Ben mused. He wondered if Boil was a figment of his imagination, the last throws to preserve what was left of his sanity.

Losing it to a Sith Lord wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to go.

Embarrassing.

He was closer now.

“My apologies, sergeant,” he repeated.

“For what, sir?”

“When Luke…helped you off of Vader’s ship, you wanted to stay with us. He loved you. I think you may have been Luke’s only real friend at that point.”

Boil swallowed. Ben didn’t know if he understood.

“I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you stay with us. Sometimes I regret it but…that’s not the jedi way.”

“Why did you not want me to stay?”

“I could not give Vader another loved one to be targeted,” Ben rasped. It was too late, the Sith already knew. So much in Ben’s head…sometimes he wished he was a droid, able to just wipe it all away.

Boil just stared at him and Ben wanted to reach out in the force with his feelings and projections. It had been a long time since he had done that amongst troopers.

He didn’t dare.

“Why…” Boil hesitated and glanced away. “Why does Vader hate you so much? Who is he?”

Ben’s breath caught. He had never actually confessed it to anyone, who Vader was.

Boil seemed to sense Ben’s panic and quickly tried to backtrack. The tone of his voice sounded strange paired with Boil’s gruff voice and his usual attempt to be calm and surly and brusque. “I am so sorry, sir. You do not have to tell me. It is completely fine. It doesn’t even matter really. He’s not here and you are not there.”

“I used to,” Ben struggled to speak. “I know him. Vader he…”

Ben stopped and stiffened. Boil followed his snap quick gaze to where Skywalker was standing in the doorway.

“Sergeant, would you mind leaving us for a bit?” Ben asked, not unkindly. He would not let a Sith near the trooper if he could help it. If Vader had donned Anakin’s visage. He wasn’t sure who this was, if it was Vader or someone else playing him or even yet, Anakin himself. Quinlan and several others had tried to convince him that he was in the past. For one of the first times ever, Boil hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should actually do as he had been asked. But after a moment, he walked out with a touch of bristle on his shoulders.

It did not escape Anakin’s attention but he, surprisingly, did not say a word.

Instead, he walked over to Ben and carefully sat next to him.

He felt so real, Ben mused. Like he could reach out and touch him, a familiar warm body under his fingers that wouldn’t burn at the contact.

Anakin always burned in his dreams.

It was a horrible think, to wish he had made sure he had killed Anakin on Mustafar well over a decade ago. So much pain could have been avoided. All it would have cost was Ben himself, leaving all the hurt and pain and horribleness for his mind and shoulders.

He was rather good at that.

He thinks perhaps killing Anakin on Mustafar would have broken him, most times. As much sadness as he could bear, he wasn’t sure if he could survive that.

But then again, Obi-Wan Kenobi had died alongside Anakin Skywalker that day.

If Quinlan and Helix and everyone else was right, if this was real and he was somehow back in his own history, able to make choices and change anything, that meant… did that mean Anakin Skywalker lived once more?

And if he did, did that mean Obi-Wan Kenobi was revived as well?

Could it be possible?

Everything had felt so real, although Ben hadn’t dared to reach out too much to others in the Force. He hadn’t even touched any bonds. If the old ones were still there and not ravaged…he did not know what he’d do.

“I had so much to say,” Anakin started, his voice uncharacteristically subdued and muted, fighting so hard to remain and relaxed and patient. “But I don’t know anymore. I’ve been thinking about things for hours and hours. Everything is going to be so different now.”

“What do you mean?”

“For me, it has only been a day. A day since it was you and me, like always. A day ago, I thought everything was fine. I thought we were okay. For me, the things that you have gone through have not happened yet. I’m alive and healthy, early twenties with a young padawan, fighting in a galaxy-wide war,” he tried to explain but Ben could tell, he was certainly struggling. “But for you, for you, it has been over fifteen years. You saw the end of the war, and something so terrible happened, you left the jedi and are on the run.”

“I did not leave,” he mumbled, absentmindedly. He hadn’t even been aware that he had spoken it until moments after, when Anakin’s head jerked, eyes meeting his in some form of terrified confusion. It looked so real, his uncertainty, and Ben wanted so desperately to believe it. Because if Anakin was befuddled and perplexed, then perhaps he didn’t know, perhaps Quinlan was right and this was actually his padawan. Not the monster that was using his body.

“Huh?”

“I did not leave,” he repeated, a bit louder.

“Did they…kick you out?” Anakin asked, skeptical and unconvinced.

Ben shook his head. “No. Everyone is dead and gone. I’m the last of the jedi.”

*

Anakin

Anakin just choked. That was not what he was expecting. Not that he had many expectations at this point. It was still painful to think about, however, and anything Anakin had expected, they both knew, this was not it.

Ten thousand jedi.

One survivor.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered. He hadn’t even realized he had said it. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in years or if he had spoken too much in that time. It was an odd contradiction, but all Anakin could feel was like he was choking on nothing at all. Because that could not have happened.

“Unfortunately, it very much is possible,” Ben hummed. “I have seen the Temple bathed in blood, bodies thrown carelessly across the halls, shot in the back. I have seen younglings murdered in their beds. They never stood a chance.”

Rage was swelling in Anakin’s chest and Ben studied him curiously. He didn’t seem entirely sure about the validity of his reaction just yet, which just didn’t make any sense. His wariness and paranoia would normally hurt and anger Anakin but right now, he was barely paying attention. It was the overwhelming and heartbreaking feelings that dominated absolutely everything at this point, because there was so many. So many jedi, ten thousand. And they were all just…gone?

Who could have possibly done such a thing?

“How are you not furious?”

“It happened over fifteen years ago,” Ben rasped, and his voice was hoarse and pained. It was like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Anakin wondered if that actually was the case. “I doubt the horror and grief I felt then will ever truly fade but I cannot…I could not do anything about it.”

“You can now,” Anakin insisted. “We can. It hasn’t happened yet. We can fix this.”

Ben was humming, non-committedly. “Interesting,” he murmured.

Anakin’s brain kept buzzing. This wasn’t happening, was he different and nothing could change it? Was it so bad that Anakin would never have his best friend back? He couldn’t imagine a life now without Obi-Wan being right there, at his side. And he didn’t want to. “What is happening to you?”

He just sighed, long suffering and tired. Obi-Wan was always tired these days but there was something in his expression that was just a little more. “A lot has happened and I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I want my master back.”

“What does that entail, exactly?”

How to answer that. With everything that was happening and everything that had happened. All of their lives and things they had done and said and not done and said. That was a question he didn’t think he could truly answer, not in its entity. Because this was Obi-Wan and that is all Anakin wanted. “I didn’t realize things had changed so much with us until…until this whole time travel thing. Things have changed so drastically but it is like I don’t know us anymore. We are a tram, the team. We are the best, I can’t even imagine my life without you. But I’ve realized…. it’s like… I don’t know what we are anymore. It’s not the same.”

Much of that may be my fault, I suppose.”

Anakin was so startled by his instinctive desire to agree to such a prospect. When had he turned into the default for blaming Obi-Wan? When had it become so easy? But before Anakin could gather himself again and his thoughts to speak, the older jedi continued. What he said next didn’t seem at all in direct relation to his previous statement.

He was practically choking on the words. “If this is a dream, I do not want it to end.”

Anakin didn’t think he meant to say that out loud. “This is real, master, I swear.”

“I never truly knew why you did it,” he replied, instead. A lump formed in Anakin’s throat. What had he done? “I knew you had resentment, some notion that I had been holding you back. You have said it. If I had, it was never intentional. I’m not exactly the best jedi or teacher, and I know you deserved better, someone who actually knew what they were doing. I know you wanted Qui-Gon and I…don’t blame you. I just didn’t realize I had done so poorly and failed you so much. I did not realize how far you had fallen or when it started.”

Anakin froze. That was much to unravel at the moment. He ended up focusing on the end of the speech.

Fallen? As in…?

It couldn’t be possible.

“What did I become?”

Ben did not want to answer, which just worried Anakin more. He must have been so truly terrible for him to withhold this.

Quinlan Vos appearing was annoying, to put it mildly, as Anakin seemed to believe they were making progress. For answers. But Ben, although subtly, looked visibly relieved. “Hey, Obes,” Master Vos greeted with a smooth smile and a comforted expression, as he carefully entered. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit confused,” Ben admitted, truthfully. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know what Sidious wants from me.”

“Perhaps we are telling the truth, maybe this is time travel,” Master Vos suggested.

“Time travel. An interesting notion,” Ben mused. “Not impossible, however rather unlikely.”

“Why is that?”

“Anakin is acting rather strange.”

“How?”

Obi-Wan exhaled and closed his eyes. Upon opening them, he stared at Anakin as if he thought he would disappear. Anakin stared back at him. This didn’t make any sense Then Obi-Wan turned to look back at Quinlan. “Worried, concerned. Not nearly as angry and resentful as the last time I saw him. I wish this cruel trick would end. But, at the same time, I feel as though this could be a wonderful dream.”

Anakin’s breath caught and emotions, feelings, everything just came rushing in all at once. It was nearly unbearable. “How could you?” his voice stuttered in something of vibration, of hurt and pain. “How could you think that I don’t care?!” he cried.

“Skywalker,” Quinlan warned.

“After-.”

Anakin,” Quinlan snapped, a little louder.

His jaw snapped shut. He was trying, he was trying, he was trying; they could give him back. He had to be careful, they all did. Anakin hated being so worried and concerned about what he said or felt. But he just wanted Obi-Wan back. And he would do anything. “I would rather like to meditate, if you would allow,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, unable to meet Anakin’s eyes.

“This isn’t a Sith trick; you are allowed to do as you please.”

“I’m not sure if I want to believe you. The implications of this…. of this not being a trick or a hallucination or a dream…I do not know what I would do with it. It has been fifteen years, in such a dark galaxy, hunted relentlessly for so long.”

“We are going to fix it, master,” Anakin assured, as he tried to calm himself; trying to breathe. He still sounded determined, dangerous. “I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let it.”

“You keep saying such things as that,” Obi-Wan hummed, his brow furrowing. “As though you think you can control it all.”

Quinlan interrupted before Anakin could say something stupid. Which, in all honesty, Anakin knew most would have probably found anything he would say next rather dumb. “Would meditation help you?”

“I haven’t…reached in the Force that way yet,” he admitted. “Since I woke up.”

“Maybe it is time,” Quinlan offered. “Perhaps it will help you determine your reality.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Obi-Wan just shrugged. “Surprisingly, here is fine.”

“Do you intend to join us?” Quinlan asked Anakin.

“Yes,” he nearly growled.

“Then can you at least quiet your mind? Your chaotic way of doing things is doubtfully going to be much help with Obi-Wan,” Master Vos replied, flatly.

“It’s alright,” the older master assured, almost sounding even fond of the way that Anakin does things, even something as an attempt at meditation. “Even after all this time, I know Anakin Skywalker. I’d be interested how things end up. With the Sith, with all of their resources, I find it doubtful they could be able to reproduce it.”

Anakin shot Quinlan a smug grin.

They settled down on the floor and Anakin commed Ahsoka. She had gotten there in record time and was invited to join them as well. Obi-Wan’s gaze was soft at the sight of her, something nostalgic and pained. Anakin wondered if she survived, but then he remembered what Obi-Wan had said about survivors. Or lack thereof.

Anakin had never tried quite so hard at the typical form of meditation than he did just then. All the worry, all the fear; he tried so hard. But every time he opened his eyes, every time he reached out, he could see Obi-Wan smirk, subtly. Like he knew something.

Like Anakin’s meditation habits were familiar and amusing.

Was this progress? Was it possible that Anakin could get Obi-Wan back?

At the very least, most of him?

More beings approached, tentative and hesitant as Anakin sunk into the Force again. The 212th, no doubt, and at least six of them. He tried not to pay attention, but he didn’t recognize any of them off hand. Obi-Wan certainly did.

He continued to relax.

Anakin bit back a scowl. Obi-Wan was more comfortable with the troops than Anakin himself at this point. He didn’t really know any of them. Obi-Wan knew several of Anakin’s own 501st by name…perhaps, Anakin should get to know of some of Obi-Wan’s 212th.

He made a note to himself.

“Is there something you need, commander?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly.

Anakin startled out of the meditation. He hadn’t even noticed the officer approach. Cody stood in the doorway, patient and dutiful as always.

“You have a call, sir,” Cody responded, a bit quiet.

Obi-Wan silently untangled himself from his position on the floor and stood. “Of course, Commander. Ahsoka, Quinlan…Anakin. I will take my leave. I hope you found this meditation as enlightening as I.”

Quinlan and Anakin perked. Perhaps…?

He and Anakin just glanced at one another. Progress, they both thought. Perhaps they were making progress.

*

Cody

“Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Ben shrugged as he and Commander Cody made their ways through the halls, away from the medical bay. “I do believe I will feel better when I find Luke. Who is requesting my presence?”

“General Windu, sir,” Cody responded easily.

The general let out a little tension in his shoulders while Cody just watched. He had been expecting someone else, he noted, someone worse. Someone he was fearing to speak to. The commander was grateful he could give him someone to speak with that the general actually cared for. Perhaps he could prevent Obi-Wan from talking with that person, the person he dreaded. The room they entered already had the call going, with a shimmering blue visage in the middle.

“Hello Mace,” General Kenobi greeted, fondly.

“Obi-Wan,” Genera Windu softened in such a way that Cody had only heard from Ponds before. Sometimes he had thought that the general hadn’t even been capable of it. It was a rude thought, he knew, but General Windu wasn’t often one to show such sentiment. Then again, this was General Kenobi. From what Cody knew, they had known each other for a very long time and were friends. “How are you feeling?

“I have been asked that quite a bit,” General Kenobi admitted. “I have gotten some sleep and was able to do some meditating. I will concede there is a possibility this is…this is real. Time travel is not exactly impossible,” he continued, a bit quiet, tentative, as if gauging reactions. “I just…I am unsure how to accept it as a possibility, after everything that has happened.”

I don’t know what happened in your past,” General Windu confessed, and he did not look happy about it. Cody had heard about General Windu’s abilities with something called shatter points. He wondered if he could see or feel them through holo calls and if anything changed with them the first time this had happened. “But I know it must have been truly devastating. And those things that happened to you, I…we cannot take those experiences away. But you, us, we have a unique chance to change the horrors of what you have witnessed for others.”

“I will,” General Kenobi vowed, strong and resolute. “I will do what I must. I will not let you down.”

General Windu just looked a little sad, like he knew something that no one else did about him. Cody found it hard to imagine that someone would be a bit upset by General Kenobi’s drive and declaration of persistence. Usually, it was a good trait to have, as far as Cody knew. “I know you won’t. There is a reason I called. We have an intelligence officer that was around Zygerria; the one that gave us the information on the Kiros colonists.”

General Kenobi hummed. “Did this person give you more information?”

He nodded. “Dooku is already heading to Zygerria. His little detour to Umbara has made the Queen send a ship and some of her workers to escort him to her. Basic contact has been made with your missing troopers.”

Both he and General Kenobi perked. “Luke?”

“He has been confirmed aboard but no contact yet.”

“That is something at least.”

“Caution is key, especially with Dooku aboard the ship as well.”

General Kenobi seemed to understand and agreed. “Do not attract attention, I understand. Luke can take care of himself.”

“Even against Dooku?”

“He has been trained and prepared to deal with much worse.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m not sure you would believe me if I tried,” General Kenobi replied, a faintly amused smile quirking from his lips. General Windu mirrored his expression and shook his head, exasperated and fond. “Have you met him?”

“I have not talked to him or seen him, yet no,” General Windu replied, now a bit curious and even a tad more suspicious, although it seemed mocking rather than actually serious. “Why?”

This just made General Kenobi’s smile grow as something twinkled in his eye. “I think, if this is real, I might just love it when you do.”

“Now I’m concerned,” General Windu replied, eyes furrowing.

To Cody’s absolute pleasure and the other High General’s surprise, General Kenobi burst into a light fit of mellow and gentle laughter, authentic and genuine. “Don’t be too worried, dear. Luke meeting you will most likely be the least of your problems.”

Cody didn’t think that made General Windu feel much better, but the mood was lightened just a bit and Cody felt he had some hope. Their conversation lasted a while longer, and while they spoke, they included Cody within their ideas and thoughts on what to do next. Their plan shifting into something a bit less noisy and a bit more subtle. Cody thought with General Skywalker around, it would dive right back into crazy.

He was pretty sure General Kenobi agreed.

*

Their approach to Zygerria space was upcoming and everyone was feeling the anxiety. It spread over most of the ship but centered around the jedi and those closest to them. Everyone knew about what had happened to Captain Rex and Lieutenant Waxer and the other boys and with the hope that they may still be alive, there was concern and optimism with the chance. The closer they got, the angrier Skywalker got, and General Kenobi avoided talking to him by busying himself with relaying orders and going over plans with the others.

“Boil, Trapper, Wooley, Longshot,” Cody ordered, listing off the names rather easily. There were so few of them that he could keep the circle too. He wondered if Luke would be against him widening their circle. There were several other troopers he knew he could trust, and he felt as he could use the help. “You’re with the general and me. Barlex, Threepwood, Crys, Gearshift, I need you to hold down the fort.”

None of them appeared very pleased with being away from the action.

“I need people who know about Luke and the general’s situation, in case something happens,” Cody continued, trying to calm their nerves. “Because whatever happens, we need to prevent the genocide of the jedi and continue to de-chip the GAR so we cannot be used in such a way,” he said, sternly.

It was then agreed rather readily.

*

Anakin

There were many ships going to and from Zygerria as of late and Skywalker just kept growling at the options before them, as each and every one was passed for any number of reasons. He hated that they were just letting them go, one by one, just waiting and trying to find the right one, the one that would suit their needs. They were going to board and take over a ship that was headed to the planet, the home planet of one of the most notorious former slave empires, one that already had access for easy passage to the ground. There were many to choose from and apparently, they had to be careful with their choice.

He hated it.

But they found one. They found one and were simply waiting for it to fall into their grasp. It would be rather easy enough, he imagined. They were standing on the bridge, patiently waiting. Or at least, most of them were patient. Anakin just kept scowling as his hate and anger rose higher and higher. Obi-Wan had hesitated and Anakin saw it, but he put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder, squeezing just gently, like he wasn’t entirely sure if his hand would go through him or not. Like he wasn’t certain Anakin was solid. Whoever had done this to him, whoever had made Obi-Wan doubt himself so much like this, Anakin would make them pay. And then Obi-Wan would never have to feel that way again. “Their empire will not rise again,” he assured, his voice quiet but certain in his words.

Anakin clenched his fist and tried to release it. His voice was rising, only kept low and down by the growl of his chest space in his tone, grumbling up through his throat. It didn’t really matter how loud or quiet he was, however, and although he didn’t really notice it at first, the other officers on the bridge were rather uneasy with his feelings. “Those slaver scum think they are better than everyone else, that they can just bend everyone to their sick will.”

“Be mindful of your feelings,” the statement was almost oddly comforting, it was rather a staple of Obi-Wan’s teachings, as much as Anakin got irritated with it on a constant basis. He hated it, normally, Obi-Wan telling him this. But it was such a normal statement in their dealings, in their life, the one with Obi-Wan, it was also a comfort. At least something was normal. “You cannot let them control you.”

He bit back a scowl. His feelings were what made him powerful, special, but he tried to appease his master. He would do anything right now just to get a little piece of him back. “I know. I know.”

“Breathe with me.”

“What?”

“Breathe with me,” Obi-Wan repeated and for once, Anakin could understand why people thought Obi-Wan so patient. Anakin actually heard him, actually looked into his tone and his voice and him in the Force. He wasn’t judging him, he wasn’t angry or upset, or anything of the sort. He just wanted to help. He just wanted to help Anakin, even if Anakin didn’t think that his feelings were something that he needed help with. “We have a few minutes before we intercept our desired vessel.”

Tentatively, as if it would burn, Obi-Wan took both of Anakin’s hands. The young knight gently squeezed back. Obi-Wan’s gaze was on them for a long moment, rubbing a thumb in tight, light circles on the, studying the flesh hand as if he hadn’t really expected to see it.

“In four beats, through your diaphragm,” Obi-Wan instructed as he inhaled, expecting Anakin to follow. “Hold…. And out for eight.”

Anakin remembered this exercise. It had been years since he had done it, but he remembered it. He remembered the way Obi-Wan would breathe with him when he felt panicked or stressed. Most negative emotions really. He would go on and on, never stopping until Anakin told him and truly felt better. It never mattered how long it took, Obi-Wan had always been there with him, breathing in time with him.

Once upon a time, it had helped.

When had it stopped helping? When had he stopped doing it?

Did it at all? Or did Anakin just stop seeing the use, when he started using his negative emotions, when he saw them as useful and powerful. Had he started to see it as childish or another way Obi-Wan could control him?

Control him, Anakin nearly scoffed. As if he could. As if he wanted to.

Why were his emotions so heightened and negative when it came to Obi-Wan as of late? It had been like that for quite some time, he realized. He was constantly getting upset and angry with his former master and at this particular moment, Anakin could not recall in the foggiest why.

“In four beats,” Obi-Wan repeated and continued to rub circles on the top of Anakin’s hand delicately with his thumb. He focused on the touch, his gaze growing a bit bleary and hazy as he just watched Obi-Wan’s gloved hand move, his tough gentle and light. “Hold four, five, seven….and out one two three.”

They repeated several more times until they were completely in sync, breathing in time with one another, and Obi-Wan was no longer guiding the session. It was just them. As one. Two halves of the same whole.

Two halves of the same whole.

Kind of like the open circle fleet’s symbol.

Obi-Wan’s fleet.

Their fleet.

“It is time,” Obi-Wan said, breaking out of his train of thought. Anakin wished he had more time. He felt like he was getting somewhere. Not just with Obi-Wan, but with himself as well. He was supposed to realize something, he knew it. Something important. It would have to wait. “Do you feel better?” Obi-Wan asked.

It felt nice to be honest about it, and he nodded. “Yes, master.” He hadn’t remembered the last time something like this had helped. Really, he hadn’t remembered the last time he had even done something like this. Who told him that it wouldn’t help? Who told him that this was no longer a good thing? If someone like Obi-Wan was one to do it on a basis, someone as wise and good as him, would it not be good for Anakin as well?

He had so much more to think about.

“Then come, dear one,” Obi-Wan replied, gently. But there was a bit of an edge to it, something Anakin couldn’t quite identify. Perhaps it was just preparation on what was to come. Anakin didn’t really know if Obi-Wan felt something strong like he did about slavery, he doubted it. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a slave for any length of time, but that didn’t mean he had to like it either. The Jedi in general, were doing their best, even before the war, but it just wasn’t enough. With the restrictions in the senate, the illegal activities and simply their lack of numbers, there was only so much the jedi could do. Sometimes Anakin forgot that. “Go fetch your apprentice and meet me in the docking bay. We have a lot to do and an uncertain timetable,” he added. It was technically an order, but it hadn’t felt like it.

Resolute. Anakin nodded.

Ahsoka was raring to go, and they gathered a few soldiers to accompany them. No doubt Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were doing the same. Kix was anxious with the disappearance of Jesse and his other brothers and declared it would be best, in case either someone got hurt or they came across someone who was hurt. He was a good soldier and warrior anyways, even if he wasn’t a medic, Anakin probably would have brought him along. Appo was always a great addition. He was calm and smart, and he was good at keeping people together, although at the moment, they were all a little confused. Perhaps Obi-Wan had promoted him and didn’t tell him? He kept calling the sergeant, commander. It wasn’t completely out of character for Obi-Wan to promote someone and not tell them immediately. And then Dogma was with them as well. In their kerfuffle, he had just slid back into the 501st, looking over what had happened with Krell, keeping rather close to his commanders. Anakin wouldn’t hold it against him; he was trying to be loyal. He just had some bugs to work out, no big deal.

Several 212th boys were waiting with them, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. They had the same calm air that Obi-Wan usually carried around them with something else, as if they were chomping at the bit. Their eyes would darken into something violent and dangerous. This mission was personal. He could understand that. Anakin did realize most of them had been around their meditation study not a few hours prior. He remembered the way Obi-Wan had relaxed in their presence. He still hated that Obi-Wan had relaxed more with them than with Anakin himself, they were his troops, Anakin was his padawan, but he did comprehend something at least. Anakin had his go to’s and favorites, he supposed Obi-Wan did too.

It was an odd thing to think about.

Boarding the upcoming slave ship was rather easy. A single slave ship was no match for even one of the venator ships, much less two. The Negotiator and the Resolute boxed them quite easily and the gunships were off. And any crew of slavers was no match for a single squad of troopers, much less a squad led by a jedi.

Led by several jedi.

It didn’t mean the slaver did not try, however, because they did. Their efforts were a strange mix of amusing and annoying. They tried to shoot at them, threw smoke bombs and other small explosives. Closed normal and blast doors, others reinforced but no matter what, it wasn’t a match for the power and heat of their lightsabers. They could just burn through.

Anakin kept breathing.

He wouldn’t let his anger control him, not with Obi-Wan watching. He had so much to prove. He stayed rather close to his former master and Ahsoka ended up veering off with Master Vos. It wasn’t something that was particularly on his mind. He and Master Vos didn’t always get along but there was something he could trust him with, it was Ahsoka. After all, Master Vos had somehow raised someone as good as Aalya Secura, he must be somewhat decent.

Obi-Wan was…fighting different.

Anakin, he knew how Obi-Wan fought. They had sparred frequently, fought alongside one another constantly, Obi-Wan taught him and Anakin dared to think he had taught Obi-Wan a thing or two as well. They had always been well synced with one another, fighting together like one entity. Mostly because they had been fighting with other another for so long. And it wasn’t just in his padawanship, they were matched together often times during his knighthood too, during the war. Sure, Anakin was technically under Obi-Wan’s command, as the older jedi was a high general, but still, their groups meshed together well. The 501stand 212th worked seamlessly together, just like their generals did. At their best, together, they were an opponent to not be underestimated. One to be feared.

But here, now, it was different. He was different. It was not the same really, they weren’t quite as good. He shouldn’t say that. They were still fantastic, a foe and duo to be feared, undoubtedly, even with their step away from one another. But it wasn’t quite as right as Anakin knew it normally was. Not quite as in sync with each other’s moves as they were before. Oh, how things could change. In a day. Fifteen years. He didn’t like it.

Had it changed so suddenly? Or had this been a slow change? One that had been coming around?

Anakin had known Obi-Wan since he started seriously started practicing Soresu. It was a form he had mastered well. He knew that the older jedi had started off with Aratu, a form he had used against the Sith during the blockade of Naboo. Anakin had watched the security tapes over and over and over again. Many times. He had quickly after that switched over to another form. Anakin had watched as he weighed the pros and cons of each one before finally settling on Soresu, the defensive form. Anakin had asked him why once. He was so good at Aratu, even others had told him that. Obi-Wan had always just looked sad when it was brought up.

“There are so many holes in Aratu, nothing for defense,” he had said.

Anakin hadn’t completely understood it at the time. Of course, he had been ten at the time, so he didn’t really understand much but over time, he did sort of get it. Obi-Wan was haunted by the death of his master, his inability to protect him, although, looking over so many of the tapes so many times, Anakin knew there was nothing he could have done, even if Obi-Wan had been using Soresu during that period. He was trapped behind a barrier, alone.

Sometimes he wondered who was left alone. Had Obi-Wan just not been fast enough? Or had Qui-Gon just ran ahead, recklessly without heed?

Obi-Wan, turned out, was amazing at Soresu, and his demeanor shifted to accommodate that. He was patient and enduring. A good defensive form in contrast to Anakin’s own, more aggressive Shien form.

Soresu was built on defensive blocks and impenetrable shields, which Obi-Wan used to the fullest. It was possibly the most perfect fit for wartime, this wartime, especially against the blaster bolts they were constantly up against, as it was used to deflect and redirect attacks. It didn’t rely on raw power like some of the other forms, raw power that Anakin knew he himself had and Obi-Wan rather lacked.

But that did not make Obi-Wan any less dangerous.

But this…it was still Soresu, the one he was using now, was still identifiable, still the form, still a dance, still an impenetrable shield of defensive blocks…but there was something different about the way he moved. Technical. Mechanical. Something Anakin had never seen before

Soresu often times was criticized because of its lack of offensive attacks and strokes. What good was a defense if you could not defeat your enemy, only block them?

Anakin had thought that once. But he had seen Obi-Wan use that defense to defeat many enemies, including himself.

But this, what Obi-Wan was doing now, even though it was still Soresu, as Anakin could tell, but something was added. Something more raw and powerful, a bit more force behind actual blows that could take instead of just defend. It was Soresu but something was added, something Anakin had not really seen.

What had Obi-Wan done in the future?

He was further, just slightly out of sync with Anakin, a step forward. Was this a sign? Was he being left in the past? Had he lost Obi-Wan forever?

Obi-Wan had never been particularly cruel, sometimes even lacking efficiency in exchange for chance, for mercy and compassion. It had paid off on more than one occasion, even Anakin could admit that, as much as he wanted to just take people down. But that was not the case here. The Soresu master was a whirlwind – giving each of the slaver crew one chance and one chance only – if even that – to surrender and lay down arms. Of course, more often than not, they didn’t. Obi-Wan did not keep giving chances. He did not go out to kill either, Anakin could not imagine his old master doing that, but several slavers lost appendages and others incapacitated by other means. Some would not survive their wounds. Anakin found he didn’t mind.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even paused as he went through the halls, making a straight path to the bridge, where certainly the captain and his closest crew were holed up. They didn’t stand a chance. He barely gave Anakin time to redirect the power in the door to make it open before he went to strike his saber right through it. But when the door did open, he strode in, completely in charge, with a posture to match. There was an air of unyielding, of no chance at all. He did not care what they wanted, and he was not here to negotiate. He was here to take.

“Hello there,” he greeted, although his voice was hard and his tone rather bored with the entire scenario. The captain and a few others just stared, their hands on their weapons, pointed at them. Anakin smirked. “I am General Kenobi, and I am here to take over your ship and relieve you. You of the slaves.”

The captain tried to fight him. He charged and Anakin was all ready to fight back; with his saber at the ready to defend Obi-Wan and take the being down. But Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on his arm before spinning his saber, almost lazily. Anakin barely even saw it move. The captain was on the ground then, crumpled on the floor. Unconscious or dead, Anakin didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

“We must move quickly if we are to keep with the ship’s schedule,” he said and stepped over the slaver, away from him. The rest of the crew had surrendered, staring at their employer with such wide eyes, one might have thought they were no longer inhabiting their bodies. Anakin snarled at the slaver on the ground but bounced after his former master with renewed interest.

The cargo bay had quite a number of slaves in it, spreading several species and people. It was not a large ship by any means. It wasn’t as though Anakin had seen many ships, particularly, that were crowded with slaves, but there was a good dozen or two huddled together. They were cowering and kept to the walls, away from them, many chained to the walls. Obi-Wan just glanced at him, eyes soft and sympathetic and dragging him out to walk into the middle, with a translator droid hot on their heels, before tugging down for him to sit down with him. Anakin followed what he was doing.

Their level. Smaller, less threat. Taking off weapons and setting them away. Within sight of them so they could see. Everything laid bare, just like them.

“Frightened and scared beings act fairly universal,” Obi-Wan hummed under his breath, sad and tired.

He took a breath and told the droid to translate for any of the slaves who did not speak basic.

“My name is jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and we are here to help you,” he started, his voice gentle and kind, but loud enough for those who knew the language to hear it. Beside him, the droid called out in another language that Anakin wasn’t entirely sure he knew. “In a few minutes, you can be taken aboard a Republic cruiser, where your chips and collars will be deactivated and removed. You may eat and rest and will be given clothes. Troopers will come around to ask what you would like to do moving forward,” he gave a pause, allowing the droid to translate the passage. The slaves look tentative. “You may accompany my troopers to Coruscant where you will stay at the Jedi Temple until you can start new lives where you would like, contact families and home worlds if you have them or find a new place to settle.”

Anakin just stared at his master, silently. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting really. Was this it? Was this not? His head was swimming.

“Over there is Sergeant Barlex,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing beside him as he continued and the droid relayed the words, even pointing over to the clone as well. Anakin looked up and sure enough, several clone troopers stood by him, none of which had their weapons on them at the moment. He made a gesture, and the troopers removed their helmets, revealing their generally identical faces. Anakin stared at them, reaching out, as if he could just memorize them right here and right now. These were some of the troopers that Obi-Wan cared for, that he trusted and loved. Anakin should trust them too, at the very least. Because he did, to some extent, have to. Trust them with Obi-Wan’s life, especially when he was not around. “He and troopers Gearshift, Crys and Threepwood will be assisting you.”

Carefully and slowly, Anakin stood up and he walked over to one of the slaves, kneeling down in front of them, keeping his hands where they could see him and telegraphed his movements. He gave them some bread that he tucked away in his robe and handed out pieces for them to share. “There is plenty more where that came from,” he promised. He wasn’t entirely sure if they could understand his words, but they seemed to get his meaning.

“Please do be kind to them, Sergeant,” he heard Obi-Wan’s voice behind him.

“Of course, sir,” the trooper replied, curtly, but his voice was surprisingly understanding, and kind, despite the gruffness of it. “Keep yourself alive. And bring our kid back home, would you?”

Our kid? Anakin hadn’t known that some of the 212th troopers already knew Luke. Already knew him enough to like him, to be a bit rather protective. Was it that easy and simple to bond with them? Could Anakin have that with even Obi-Wan’s troops so effortlessly?

Obi-Wan nearly laughed. “Of course, sergeant. You quite like him, don’t you?”

Barlex shrugged as Anakin made his way back over to them, upon giving several slaves a few things of bread. He had kind of stuffed his pockets and robes and sleeves with them. Water wouldn’t have kept in the battle or a fight, but food was the next best thing. “He’s a good kid. Strong head on his shoulders. Calm, determined. Not a great listened, sneaking off with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon but, well, it seems to run in the family.” He almost even sounded amused. That didn’t seem normal for the trooper from what he could tell.

Anakin’s former master snorted. “Ah, you have no idea, Sergeant,” he chuckled.

“We’ve got this, sir,” another trooped nodded next to him. “We will get all the people off the ship pronto so you and the others can move on schedule.”

Another nod. “Thank you, Threepwood.”

“Gearshift is rounding up the crew, preparing for departure.”

“Departure?” Anakin asked, curiously.

“Since we cannot technically free slaves and take down slavers due to the Chancellor’s emergency powers,” Obi-Wan growled, more than just a bit bitter. Anakin continued to be mildly surprised. He wondered why that was. “We will…ahem…convince and persuade them to abandon the people and scatter.”

“We cannot arrest them?” Anakin hissed.

“The Chancellor says he does not want to strain relationships with the Hutts and other powerful entities,” Quinlan Vos snorted as he and Anakin’s padawan walked up and united with them. She was practically bouncing, her eyes fiery with justice and a readiness to battle. “So, he’s been easy on their…employees and their occupation of choice.”

Anakin swallowed. That…could not be right.

That could not be right. No way that…

His thoughts were interrupted by Obi-Wan’s next words, his voice growing loud, as if he was trying to drown out Anakin’s thoughts. “Are there any other beings or things aboard that need to be moved?”

Anakin was technically paying attention, but his eyes were on the slaves that were gently being led by the troopers, sans their weapons, off the ship and towards the larger vessels. Someone had landed the Negotiator already, so the people were being led straight into the docking bay, away from the horrid place that was once a slave ship.

One of the troopers did have his weapon, but he was rounding up those that were obviously slavers and masters. Anakin stared at him for a long moment. The gear tattoo on him was interesting in some mundane, distracting way. It almost looked like was moving, like real gears.

“A few animals,” Ahsoka replied, easily. “Not any big ones, but a few small ones. Generally friendly.”

“Probably used as pets,” Obi-Wan mused. “Commander, can you get one of the boys to start hauling any living thing off as well? I don’t want to have to worry about any of them when we move on.”

Anakin imagined the trooper nodded but he was watching everything else instead.

“Anakin?”

He startled and turned around. Everyone was staring at him. “Huh?”

“I called your name a couple of times. Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, still hesitant, but no less worried.

He frowned. “I can handle myself.”

“That is not in question,” his former master cleared his throat as he spoke carefully, like he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. It almost made Anakin scowl because Obi-Wan had never been this uncertain about and around him before. It was incredibly frustrating. “But I know this situation is difficult for you and that is completely understandable. It is not a question of your ability, dear one.”

Anakin nearly melted right then and there. Obi-Wan froze, only for a brief second, as though he hadn’t realized he had said the sweet endearment. Had it been such a while since Obi-Wan had called him that? For him, he supposed, it had been fifteen years. For Anakin…had it been long? Why did he stop? Did he stop at all or did Anakin just stop paying attention?

“Anakin?”

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you sure you want to go to Zygerria?”

“I went the last time, didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan hesitated and glanced away briefly before looking back straight at him. He looked so concerned. Was he worried that Anakin would fall apart right then and there? When Obi-Wan needed him in the heat of the middle of the mission? He wouldn’t, of course, and Obi-wan’s lack of faith disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Anakin wondered what had happened last time; if he had let Obi-Wan down in such a way. “Yes,” he replied, cautious and slow. “And suffice to say, it did not particularly end well on any notion of the time.”

“What happened?”

The older man swallowed and glanced at Master Vos. Anakin huffed. Of course, he knew. “Did you tell Master Vos?”

“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “He just knows me. We have been friends for quite some time, if you recall.” Oh, he could. “And aside from rescuing the colonists of Kiros, the mission before did not go particularly well. It was different than what we are doing now of course, but no one was put in a good position, least of all you.”

He wanted to bristle. He really did, but the look on Obi-Wan’s face made him stop. Something had changed. Maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way Anakin was seeing that look on his face. Like, something he hadn’t quite noticed before. It was as if he could see what Luke was talking about. The grief, the infinite sadness. Had Anakin put that on him? It wasn’t pity, but rather empathy, of kindness and just wanting better for him, not about him.

Obi-Wan didn’t mean anything poorly by it, Anakin thought to himself and for some reason, that realization just floored him. He was just trying to protect him. Even if he didn’t want him to, even if Anakin could protect himself, Obi-Wan continued to do so. Was it really because Obi-Wan didn’t think he could do it himself, that he didn’t have the faith in Anakin’s abilities? Or was he just so used to it that it was just second nature. Obi-Wan had spent over ten years protecting him, teaching him. He supposed that wasn’t something he could just turn off. But then again, after all, wasn’t Anakin trying to do the same thing, all the time.

“I’ll be okay,” he vowed, walking back over to them and taking his place at Obi-Wan’s side before anyone else could snatch it from him, shooting a bit of a glare at Master Vos and the other troopers, pointedly trying to avoid Ahsoka so she would not see it. “And if I’m not, I will tell you.”

That surprised his former master, but his expression was quickly washed away by calm and pleasant gratitude. “Alright, I believe you.”

Anakin swallowed. He would not lie to Obi-Wan.

[kuramirocket]

MEXICALI, Mexico — Lucía Laguna carries her fate tattooed on her face — from the corner of her mouth to her chin, black lines surf across her coppery skin — the tribal art honoring her people will also serve an important function later on.

“After my death, it will be guide me to my ancestors. With the tattoo, they will recognize me and can take me where they are," she said, as she talks on the banks of the Colorado River.

But under the merciless sun, Laguna, 51, worries about the fate of the river and its impact on the Cucapá, her Indigenous people. A searing drought is exacerbating the deadly heat in a region that long ago saw its river flow diminished, after almost a century of U.S. engineering projects.

"Cucapá means people from the river, that's why we are fighting for it," she said, pointing to a decrease in the river's flow she is seeing every year. “We cling to the river and fight because it gives us water so that the fish can arrive and we can earn our livelihood. But it is a fight that seems that we will never win," she said, disheartened.

Mexico is experiencing the worst drought in three decades. NASA images from the recently released Landsat 8 satellite showed the extremely low levels of the Villa Victoria dam, one of the capital's main water reservoirs.

According to meteorologists, three quarters of the country suffers from drought; in 16 of the 32 states, it affects their entire territory. Thus, 60 large reservoirs, especially in the north and the center, are below 25 percent of capacity.

"Over the past 70 years, the temperature in Mexico has a clear and conclusive increasing trend. In the last decade, it increased very rapidly and that rise is even higher than the average for the planet," Jorge Zavala Hidalgo, general coordinator of the National Meteorological Service, said.

Rainfall has always fluctuated, he explained, but now the rain is concentrated in fewer days. "And that is bad because we all want it to rain — but nobody wants it to flood, especially the farmers, because that destroys the crops. That is why we are studying everything that is happening."

The increase in temperature especially affects the forests, which go from being a paradise of greenery to time bombs for fire risks. As of May 5, 562 forest fires had been registered, 27 percent more than in 2020. And the burned area grew 69 percent, reaching almost 900,000 acres.

"There is more drought and therefore the vegetation is waiting for someone to arrive, light a leaf and from there, the fire begins," said César Robles, deputy manager of the Fire Management Center of Mexico's National Forestry Commission. "The area affected by fires is directly correlated with the increase in temperature and the decrease in rainfall."

An area resident, Imelda Guerra Hurtado, 43, pointed to the barren lands of El Zanjón, an arid, semi-desert enclave that reaches the banks of the Colorado River delta.

She remembers her grandparents taking her fishing — and points to areas that used to have water.

"Sometimes we feel that we are dying of thirst. Although many deny it, the climate has changed," she said. "We have always lived off the fish in the river, since I can remember. Now we can only fish once a year and it is our main livelihood."

U.S. engineering and their consequences

The Cucapá are one of the five native tribes of Baja California, and they descend from the Yuman people. According to official data, there are now only between 350 and 400 members of the Cucapá people but, in the 19th century, Western colonizers documented between 5,000 and 6,000 nomads who organized into clans.

"You have to understand that these Indigenous people see the entire region, both the part of Mexico and the United States, as their territory. In their traditions, it is remembered that they received a lot of water and, little by little, they were running out of that flow," said Osvel Hinojosa-Huerta, director of the Coastal Solutions Program at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.

The history of the Colorado River, and the problems it suffers today, is an ode to progress and engineering that tried to tame nature. It is the most important water system in northwestern Mexico. It is essential for farming in a semi-desert region.

In the 19th century, the river reached Mexico with a wild power of about 42,000 cubic feet per second. At the beginning of the 20th century, however, the United States began struggling to convert the arid regions of the Southwest to arable land, thus undertaking engineering works to divert water to the Imperial Valley of California.

"From 1922, everything started badly," Hinojosa-Huerta said. The United States did a study to divide the water from the Colorado River and, coincidentally, it was the 10 wettest years in the basin." Thus, a distribution was made on paper that included more water (16 percent) than there actually is. And then the reservoirs began to be built.

Treaties, dams — and then climate change

In 1936, the Hoover Dam was inaugurated, between Nevada and Arizona, which lowered the flow to 164 cubic meters per second for Mexico. In 1944, a bilateral treaty was signed that guaranteed Mexico about 1.8 million cubic meters of water per year, but most of it goes to agriculture.

The agreement did not consider the rights of the Cucapá people and their ancestral relationship with the river. But it affected their traditional ceremonies, causing a shortage of fruits and grains, and the trees and shrubs used to make houses, boats and clothing. "Nobody asked us anything," Guerra said. 

In 1966, the Glen Canyon Dam in Arizona was erected, and the river's flow decreased to 8 cubic meters per second. But what no one seemed to count on, between treaties and dams, was climate change.

"In Mexicali, it has never rained," Hinojosa-Huerta said, "the flow that reaches the region and that supports agriculture comes from snowfall 2,600 kilometers [1,600 miles] in the Rockies."

It all depends on precipitation in Wyoming and Colorado, but since 2002 snowfall has been below average, depleting the river and resulting in a "desolating panorama," he said.

Years of warmer temperatures, a failed rainy season last summer and low snow cover have combined to cause Mexico's Baja California rivers to decline.

Hell on Earth

But heat also kills. In 2019 there were at least eight deaths in Mexicali associated with high temperatures; in 2020, they were 83.

"People cannot live with those temperatures, that is, people die", Zavala said, "although they are used to the heat, even small increases break the threshold for the human body to survive."

On Aug. 14, 2020, Mexicali registered 122 degrees Fahrenheit, breaking the record of 121 that dated from August 1981.

Froilán Meza Rivera, a veteran journalist and writer from northern Mexico, consulted the archives of the Secretariat of Hydraulic Resources. It appears that in July 1966, in Riíto, a Mexicali community, a thermometer reached an unprecedented figure of 140 degrees Fahrenheit. And that was its limit: the mercury rose to the top and could not measure any more.

It would be the highest figure in the world: according to the World Meteorological Organization, the highest recorded temperature is 134 degrees Fahrenheit on July 10, 1913, in California's Death Valley.

The region is exposed to the worst possible scenarios in terms of a climate emergency, according to Roberto Sánchez Rodríguez, an academic from the Colegio de la Frontera Norte. "Governments have mismanaged resources, and that is why there is less water available," he said.

Fishing

Since 1993, the fishing territory of the Cucapá has been included in the Upper Gulf of California and the Colorado River Delta Biosphere Reserve, which has a surface area of ​​2.3 million acres. This protected area was created to preserve the flora and fauna, such as the vaquita porpoises and the totoaba, which are at the brink of extinction.

"We abide by the rules, we know that species have to be protected because we are an Indigenous people, we use the nets and equipment that the government asks of us and we do not go out when it's not our turn," said Rubén Flores, captain of a panga, a boat used for traditional fishing.

An earthquake in 2010 also affected fishing. "It left us huge cracks that got bigger, and that doesn't allow us to fish like before," said Hilda Hurtado Valenzuela, 68, president of the Sociedad Cooperativa Pueblo Indígena Cucapá, one of the associations that groups together the people who are still fishing.

Sitting on a plastic chair near the patio of her home in El Indiviso, a semi-desert piece of land, she said she likes to get away from the sun. For a long time, she has not seen the sun as a source of life but as a tough enemy who takes out her tribe, destroys the river and forces them to forces them to do their chores and work at night during the harshest moments of summer.

"Unbearable"

"The heat here is unbearable, we have never experienced this. There are even people living on the streets who die because they cannot stand the temperatures," Valenzuela said. "And it also affects the animals because less water arrives from the river and the fish breed with the mixture of fresh water and salt, so there are fewer and fewer fish."

The townspeople insist that they do not fish the totoaba, whose swim bladder is considered a delicacy in the Asian market for its supposed medicinal and aphrodisiac properties (when it reaches China it costs $55,000 or $60,000).

But the intense demand leads to fishing with professional nets, thus also trapping the vaquitas and leaving them on the brink of extinction.

Various environmental and journalistic investigations have pointed to the Dragon Cartel, a criminal network with Mexican, American, Chinese and other intermediaries who conspire to exploit and fish the totoaba in that region.

Flores said that just by looking at the sky, he knows what the weather will be like. That's why he shakes his head disapprovingly every time he sees the relentless sun.

"Something strange is happening here. It is as if the sun lasts longer, so the fish do not like that heat. They are born less and weigh less." It used to take them two days to fish for curvina, now it takes them a whole week, he said, looking at the river.

The intense drought also has affected the fish's reproduction, so they must go further and further out, with poorly prepared boats, with small engines and without much fuel.

"We comply with everything, but the people of the surrounding towns also fish and don't (comply) —and many times we're punished for that, said Paco, a veteran fisherman with more than 25 years of experience.

"And we must also be careful because the narco is there, they follow our routes through the area and they fish in order to hide tons of drugs underneath. We tell the police, but nobody does anything," said Paco, whose last name is being withheld for fear of retaliation.

"I want the river to stay"

Lucia Laguna considers herself a guardian of the Cucapá, keeping alive their language, customs and traditional clothing to preserve them. Her memory is one of the most important reservoirs of the Cucapá past.

Kneeling on the banks of the Colorado River, she touches the dark water with special devotion while reciting an ancient song. Two little girls are with her.

"My tata [grandfather] fishes because without that we cannot eat. I too would like to be a fisherman, because I really like the river and being here," Marleny Sáenz, 10, said.

"I want the river to stay, to have our traditions," she said. "I like to sing because it is part of me, I feel very proud to be part of this town."

It is a ritual that they used to celebrate on the banks of the river. From time immemorial they burned the cachanilla, a wild plant with a fresh aroma, while chanting their songs so that the fishermen would be lucky in their long expeditions at sea.

"It is about opening paths, so that everything goes well," Laguna said.

"We are paying the consequences of the pollution of other people. The people of the cities have to understand that we are affected by what they do. They do not live alone in the world," she said sadly, touching the water and singing to the river.