#contemplate serious levels of personal violence

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Sometimes I make scheduling choices that truly make me question whether or not my impulse control is strong enough to prevent me from sprouting wings and flying head first into an active volcano

But at least I'm on vacation next week tho

[gatheringbones]

[“Proving self-defense could prevent prosecution and punishment of people who use violence to protect themselves. To successfully argue self-defense, a person must show that they used force in response to a reasonable fear of imminent or immediate serious bodily harm or death and that the amount of force used was proportionate to the threat posed. They may also have to prove that they did not use force first and attempted to retreat or flee before using force. The concept of “reasonableness” often has both subjective and objective components: the person must prove that they subjectively believed that an imminent threat of death or serious bodily harm existed at the time they acted and that a reasonable person assessing the situation would share that belief. If a person who uses force can establish these elements, their use of deadly force is legally justifiable, the equivalent of a finding that no crime has been committed.

But self-defense has long been complicated in cases of gender-based violence, particularly for women who kill their partners. At common law a woman who killed her husband could be convicted of petit treason, eliciting more serious punishment than if she had killed anyone else. Killing in response to a husband’s physical abuse did not excuse the conduct, because husbands had the right to physically discipline their wives. Past violence was not relevant to a claim of self-defense. By the late 1970s defense attorneys representing women who killed their partners regularly advised them to claim temporary insanity rather than self-defense. Self-defense was regarded as especially inappropriate in “nonconfrontational” cases. As law professor Ellen Yaroshefsky has explained: “In 1980, the claim of self-defense in a case where the aggressor was not in the act of attacking the woman was regarded as simply not viable.”

Women faced a number of obstacles in making self-defense claims. Self-defense law contemplated two men of similar size and strength facing each other in a fair fight. The law failed to account for size and strength differentials between men and women, which sometimes made it appear that women had used disproportionate force, especially when women used weapons to make up for those disadvantages. By looking only at the specific incident in the case, self-defense law precluded women from explaining how a history of abuse affected their perceptions of the imminence or immediacy of death or serious bodily injury. This issue often arose in cases where a woman acted after an abusive incident or when the person killed was sleeping (although most cases where women argue self-defense involve killings during a confrontation). Similarly, without context, the reasonableness of the woman’s perception of the level of danger might be questionable. In many jurisdictions the person using force was required to retreat from the danger if at all possible, even if that threat came from within the person’s home.

Bringing a successful self-defense claim was a particular challenge for Black women, whose victimization is often minimized and who appear to racist judges and jurors as “just another violent black person, shooting it out.” In a 1978 article activist and author Assata Shakur described Lucille, a Black woman convicted of killing her partner despite “medical records which would prove that she had suffered repeated physical injuries as the result of beatings by the deceased,” including a mutilated arm and a partially severed ear. “The District Attorney made a big deal of the fact that she drank,” Shakur wrote. “And the jury, affected by t.v. racism, ‘law and order,’ petrified by crime and unimpressed by Lucille as a ‘responsible citizen,’ convicted her.” The failure to understand the relationship between intimate partner violence and women’s use of force led judges and juries to reject women’s self-defense claims. A 1990 study of women subjected to abuse who killed their partners found that the majority had been convicted because they could not establish the elements of self-defense.”]

leigh goodmark, from imperfect victims: criminalized survivors and the promises of abolition feminism, 2023

[dolphin1812]

“ Up to that time, the Republic, the Empire, had been to him only monstrous words. The Republic, a guillotine in the twilight; the Empire, a sword in the night. He had just taken a look at it, and where he had expected to find only a chaos of shadows, he had beheld, with a sort of unprecedented surprise, mingled with fear and joy, stars sparkling, Mirabeau, Vergniaud, Saint-Just, Robespierre, Camille, Desmoulins, Danton, and a sun arise, Napoleon. He did not know where he stood. He recoiled, blinded by the brilliant lights. Little by little, when his astonishment had passed off, he grew accustomed to this radiance, he contemplated these deeds without dizziness, he examined these personages without terror; the Revolution and the Empire presented themselves luminously, in perspective, before his mind’s eye; he beheld each of these groups of events and of men summed up in two tremendous facts: the Republic in the sovereignty of civil right restored to the masses, the Empire in the sovereignty of the French idea imposed on Europe; he beheld the grand figure of the people emerge from the Revolution, and the grand figure of France spring forth from the Empire.”

Is this a pun in Marius’ political crisis

On a serious note, the flip from “darkness” to “light” here - with Napoleon being the brightest - draws on a longstanding association of light with Progress within the novel and outside of it (“enlightenment”). If to Marius (and frankly, to Hugo), the Revolution was a necessary predecessor to Napoleon and Napoleon was needed to shape modern France, then they must be light, not “twilight” and “night.” The image of him being blinded before he learns how to deal with this new information underscores how shocking this revelation was to him, understandably so given his upbringing and the emotional stakes behind his political shift.

A brief note on the issues with how both Marius and Hugo perceive Napoleon and his empire: the “sovereignty of the French idea imposed on Europe” isn’t appealing at all. Hugo has some implicit recognition of that with the choice of “imposed,” but the reverence for the “French idea” in general means that the imperialist part of empire (or France’s colonial history) isn’t really addressed in the text. To Hugo, the issue with Napoleon is the dominance of one man over the people, so the problems with empire beyond authoritarianism aren’t really touched on.

Marius, of course, has no problems with Napoleon now, having veered into complete idolization of him and of his father. While he’s sympathetic on the personal level - he’s never been exposed to this history in a positive light, and it’s not surprising that he’d want to think positively of someone who loved him so much - his mindset is dangerous. Hugo accused Marius of “fanaticism” as a royalist under Gillenormand’s tutelage, and now he accuses him of the same, but for “the sword.” While I’m skeptical of Hugo’s language here after reading the convent digression (he’s calling Marius’ belief a “religion” and saying he’s a “fanatic” in his devotion to it, which calls to mind Hugo’s more offensive opinions on religion), it’s true that Marius is now suddenly dedicating himself to Napoleon’s army and a militaristic view of history without thinking critically. To be fair, he’s never learned to think critically - this is the first time his worldview has been questioned - but his focus on violence and the military is concerning nonetheless. 

Building on the broader theme of community, we also see Marius start to think of his “country” at the same time as he thinks of his father. He still doesn’t actually interact with a broad range of people - Mabeuf is the only person outside of his family that we know he interacts with - but he is conceptualizing a broader form of community. Given that the most community he’s seen so far has been the church and the salon, the latter of which seems heavily fragmented based on titles and individual stories, his attempt to define a broader community for himself - France - is extremely significant. Marius remains alone in many ways, but at least he can imagine connections in a way he couldn’t before, even if only through a nationalist lens.

[thepitofjob]

Job 23: 13-17. "The Portfolio."

Mistakes are a type of Polemic that are written to clarify the assumptions about a particular passage in the Torah or Tanakh. Warrants contend with violations. Next is the Decree, which pertains to the oncoming of the Mashiach, which are ways to solidify global order.

It is a mistake to think Onan's sin was about masturbation for example, God issued a warrant after Cain's homicide of Abel, and now we will discuss the Decree, the things one must do:

13 “But he stands alone, and who can oppose him?     He does whatever he pleases. 14 He carries out his decree against me,     and many such plans he still has in store. 15 That is why I am terrified before him;     when I think of all this, I fear him. 16 God has made my heart faint;     the Almighty has terrified me. 17 Yet I am not silenced by the darkness,     by the thick darkness that covers my face.

We cannot rely on the Shule alone for implementation of the Decrees. The beliefs and practices of the religion are supposedly designed to pave the way to a more lucrative way of life, but without active participation in the affairs of community, they are pointless. No amount of contemplation or oration on the desired way of life is going to matter without full engagement of the Decrees and the onset of the Mashiach.

But we cannot read so we do not even practice much less perform interpretive polemics. Mashiach is not possible in the midst of a deaf and dumb human race:

On average, 79% of U.S. adults nationwide are literate in 2024. 21% of adults in the US are illiterate in 2024. 54% of adults have a literacy below a 6th-grade level (20% are below 5th-grade level).

Word of mouth then must the cause of our immense problems. This is why I want Joe Biden and Kamala Harris to be more forthright about what is going to happen with those two child molesters, Donald Trump and JD Vance ahead of the final days of this election year. Persons who have a history of child pornography and sex with minors are not allowed attain to positions of power. This is a violation of our agreements with other nations who may also not elect pedophiles and swear them in to public office.

Rape and other forms of sexual violence against children are human rights violations, and may amount to grave breaches of international humanitarian law.

In the very beginning of the Torah the first thing God tells Adam and Eve is not to exploit the sexuality of young people. We are not off to a very good start or conclusion to this election in America because we cannot read or act appropriately, and I think we are ready for some very serious consequences to the establishment responsible for failing to read and respond appropriately to these extremely important dictates.

If we do a Texas Two Step around this issue, we risk the USA becoming a hub for sex tourism and organized crime which it kind of already is. The implications of allowing Donald Trump et al to continue to promote perverted sex crimes on the soil of other nations are too serious to ignore.

Donald Trump and JD Vance both have connections to the trafficking of sex with minors the FBI and UN are aware of this, their actions are violations of spiritual, federal, and International laws it is illegal for these two men to participate in a US Election. someone has to make it clear their names shall not be appearing on that ballot in November.

This is an example of a Decree and the removal of the penetration darkness that is covering the faces of the human race.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 13-14: He does whatever he pleases. So long as this pleases God that is fine. The Number is 7286, זבח‎ ו‎, "sacrifice."

The first aspect of the Decree is it requires sacrifice. One cannot, for example commit adultery. Sacrifice is required before and definitely after violations of the Decree that forbids adultery. The goal of a Decree is to identify which is the lesser sacrifice to make.

v. 15-16: That is why I am terrified.

The Torah says we are the most terrified of changing our minds. This passage is repeated twice:

Balak "The Destroyer" Summons Balaam "the Devourer of the People."

22 Then the Israelites traveled to the plains of Moab "father's way of life" and camped along the Jordan across from Jericho. [to cross the Jordan is to grow up, it refers to losing one's virginity. After this, one can enter Jericho "the fragrant place". ]

2 Now Balak "to lay waste" son of Zippor "the bird or the goat" saw all that Israel had done to the Amorites, 3 and Moab was terrified because there were so many people. Indeed, Moab was filled with dread because of the Israelites.

The Number is 5830, החל‎ , "what is applied". By the time one reaches adulthood one must be able to apply the Decrees and stay out of trouble. Sex with minors, for example is not an acceptable course of action for an adult to take nor is lack of enforcement of the age of consent by the government. This is a very serious crime.

Everyone in the world will benefit from an official announcement about the legal protections children have from sexual crimes performed by persons holding positions of power.

v. 17: I am not silenced by the darkness. The Number is 4293, דבטג‎ ‎ ‎‎, debtag, "The portfolio of a dove."

The Tribe of Simeon contains traits that contribute to a person's good reputation. About Simeon, the Torah says in Ki Tavo:

11 On the same day Moses commanded the people:

12 When you have crossed the Jordan, these tribes shall stand on Mount Gerizim "to graze" to bless the people:

Simeon "Law abiding" , Levi "unity", Judah "praise", Issachar "friendship", Joseph "prosperity" and Benjamin "righteousness." 13 And these tribes shall stand on Mount Ebal to pronounce curses: Reuben "leadership" , Gad "teaching", Asher "happiness", Zebulun "honor" , Dan "judgement" and Naphtali "struggle".

14 The Levites shall recite to all the people of Israel in a loud voice:

15 “Cursed is anyone who makes an idol—a thing detestable to the Lord, the work of skilled hands—and sets it up in secret.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

16 “Cursed is anyone who dishonors their father or mother.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

17 “Cursed is anyone who moves their neighbor’s boundary stone.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

18 “Cursed is anyone who leads the blind astray on the road.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

19 “Cursed is anyone who withholds justice from the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

20 “Cursed is anyone who sleeps with his father’s wife, for he dishonors his father’s bed.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

21 “Cursed is anyone who has sexual relations with any animal.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

22 “Cursed is anyone who sleeps with his sister, the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

23 “Cursed is anyone who sleeps with his mother-in-law.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

24 “Cursed is anyone who kills their neighbor secretly.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

25 “Cursed is anyone who accepts a bribe to kill an innocent person.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

26 “Cursed is anyone who does not uphold the words of this law by carrying them out.”

Then all the people shall say, “Amen!”

The Torah says "on the same day, Moses commanded the people." That day was not supposed to have end. We are not abiding by the laws or the decrees and have accrued too many violations and the government needs to catch up. The people should support its efforts.

[ficsnooneaskedfor]

Call the Twi'lek Midwife

Chapter 55

Word count: 3.7k

Series rating: M

Chapter Summary: Citali contemplates the purpose of strange dreams and makes strides in learning to control her emotions. Wrecker and Melita share the good news with Echo, Crosshair, and Citali. Citali's father fights to free himself and his people.

This chapter is untitled for now since the chapter titles are really for me so I can easily reference my previous work. I'll title it whenever I can think of one but I've kept y'all waiting long enough lol.

And so sorry this chapter took like all freaking summer y'all. My long-covid symptoms have been all over the place which has really affected my ability to write, and I've just been dealing with a whole lot of personal stuff. It also took a long time because I really wanted this next chapter to include Anaasa's surgery since it has taken me so long to get to it, but eventually I had to accept that it wasn't happening with this chapter. Planning for next chapter so I can get the story moving in other ways.

TW: violence and death (unnamed characters) towards the end of the chapter.

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She's dreaming again.

Echo could tell by how she was curled up, the twitching in her face, and the groaning, whining noise coming from her throat. The exhaustion from everything that happened recently had finally caught up to Citali and since her operation, she spent much of her time getting the sleep that had been denied to her the past few months. Yet every time she did, she had strange dreams that perplexed her and Echo.

In some, she was flying, seeing through the eyes of a bird in flight. In others, she saw her father, Rex, Ahsoka, Gregor, Wolffe, and many other people in the midst of battle yet was powerless to aid them, as if separated by a pane of thick, impenetrable glass. Then there were the ones of the Mother Goddess giving birth to Light and Darkness- Juh and Sinya- and how they built the universe together, a myth Citali’s mother told her frequently as a child. Sometimes Citali believed wholeheartedly that the dreams meant something, that they were actually visions from the Light. Other times the logical part of her mind told her they were the products of stress and nothing more. Echo was unsure what he believed.

He watched her sleep for a time before rousing her, caressing her forehead gently and speaking her name. Her eyes snapped open suddenly and she looked panicked until she realized it was only her loving husband. "Sorry, Citali. Dinner is ready but if you want to keep sleeping we can save you a plate."

"No, no...I'm up," Citali said yawning and rubbing her eyes. She sat upright in the bed and tried to get her bearings. "Ugh...I can't believe how much I've been sleeping." 

"You are recovering from surgery, Citali. Your body needs rest," Echo said chuckling before becoming serious. "You uh...doing okay?"

There was a touch of concern in his voice and Citali smiled, trying to put him at ease. "Yeah," she said, debating whether to tell him more but she could tell he already knew she had been dreaming again. "It's just...these dreams."

Anxiety was threatening to overcome her as she pondered with dread what the meaning of the dreams could be. Thinking her father and friends were in danger, that her dreams of Juh and Sinya- Light and Darkness, the embodiments and creators of life and death- might mean Anaasa and her baby would die during the operation that was less than two weeks away. You cannot let these dreams get to you, she told herself. Whether they are real or not, whether they mean anything…Anaasa, Ruzin, and their baby need you focused and level-headed. You need to trust that we’ve done everything we can for them. And trust that if Father is alive…if Ahsoka, Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor truly have found him…they will help him. You know they will. She closed her eyes and willed herself to be calm. Sleeping was not the only thing she had been doing during her recovery, she had also been practicing meditation the way Ahsoka taught her. Trying to sense the Force within herself and around her while clearing her mind. Meditating for long stretches did not really work for her but short bursts of the practice did. It may only happen for a second or two but if she focused hard enough, she could sense that she was connecting to something larger than herself, a strange static charge coursing through her being. She could feel it now and it comforted her. 

Citali sensed Echo reaching for her before feeling the touch of his arm around her shoulder. She opened her eyes, feeling calmer, but she thought she could sense Echo’s concern. The look on his face confirmed it. This had been a stressful time for him as well. Worrying about his friends, feeling guilty for not helping her father the way they did with Crosshair, fearing Ahsoka’s vision of her in danger, and supporting her- it was a lot and she knew he was stressed from all the time he spent writing in his journal. She gave him a peck while grazing his other cheek, feeling his beard with her fingertips, then wrapped her arms tightly around him. 

“I love you, Echo. Thank you for all you’ve been doing to support me with…everything. I couldn’t do it without you. All of you.” Echo smiled and kissed her lips before pressing his forehead against hers, and Citali sensed his feelings of love and peace before her connection to the Force slowly went away. She put her robe on and took him by the hand, saying, “Come, let’s eat. I don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”   

Snowball followed close behind Echo and Citali as they walked outside. Dinner was being served in the garden, something Echo hoped would cheer Citali up after a rough few days. It always pained her that when they ate in the kitchen together half the family was forced to stand but in the garden, they could set up a long table where there was space for all, even Marina in her new high chair. In reality, it was far from new. Citali's parents had crafted it together for her when she was a baby and rather than have it gathering dust in the attic, she had given it to her niece. She knew her parents would approve.

"Oh, baby girl- do you not like it, or is that face 'cause it's something new?" Melita said after feeding the baby a spoonful of an emerald-colored purée.

Since starting solid food Marina had tried porridge and wedges of meiloorun and quickly came to love both, but she did not know what to make of this. Melita made it with the same leafy greens everyone else was having with dinner, minus the spices, herbs, and salt that made the experience of eating them much more enjoyable. Without seasonings, the taste toed the line between bland and slightly bitter. The moment the spoon touched her tongue Marina grimaced, arched her back, and blew an angry raspberry with her lips. There was laughter around the table and Citali noticed Crosshair looking like he was holding his in.

The substance in Marina's bowl reminded him of the blended vegetables and overcooked stews Echo prepared when he was transitioning from a liquid diet to soft foods. Marina's reaction was certainly a comical sight and though it amused him to his irritation, he did feel for her. Marina smeared some of the green mush around her tray while Melita ate a few morsels of her dinner before giving another spoonful of greens with marginal success. She was eating but was not happy about it, more like morbidly curious. Wrecker grew curious as well and used a clean spoon to scoop up a small mouthful for himself, immediately regretting that decision. He grimaced in a similar fashion to Marina and promptly spat into his napkin, deliberately being overdramatic to entertain the baby but Melita was the one who burst out laughing. Crosshair involuntarily snickered and attempted to conceal it with his left hand while looking around the table. If anyone noticed they had the decency of pretending they had not. Marina did not show him the same courtesy, giving him a cheeky, almost knowing grin when she spotted the remnants of a smile on his face. He coughed a few times to further hide his amusement and Marina proceeded to mimic the sound, as well as the scowl on his face before giggling innocently. Maker, she even acts like him.    

"There is a reason it is called 'baby food', Wrecker," Tech said teasingly while Wrecker wiped his face with another napkin. 

"Thanks for the lesson Tech but I did know that. I just wanted to see what it was like. So...Crosshair, Echo, Citali...anything interesting happen with you guys today?" Wrecker was giddy with excitement to tell them that Melita asked him to be Marina's father and thought this was a good way to steer the conversation in that direction. 

"I started drawing up plans for more security around the house," Echo said. "A bit complicated with Citali's work and patients showing up at odd hours, but Crosshair had some helpful suggestions. I'll start working on it after Anaasa's operation. How'd the tour and blood donations go?" 

Wrecker opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Omega. "Great!" she said. "Iirde and I wrote up a note in her chart together if you want to read it, Citali." Omega was about to elaborate but noticed Wrecker and Melita looking as if they wanted to say something, and she remembered Echo, Citali, and Crosshair were unaware of the happy news. "And the blood donations worked out great...didn't they, Wrecker?" Omega said, just barely containing her giggles.

"Yeah," Wrecker said. "I mean, it wasn't exactly fun but some good came of it. Anaasa and her baby have blood if they need it, and...something else happened."

Melita and Wrecker smiled at each other and Melita reached for his hand. "I asked Wrecker to be Marina's father."

Citali and Echo instantly rejoiced but Crosshair's expression remained unchanged. He had been so focused on feeding himself with the assistive device Tech made that he almost did not hear what was said. In fact, Wrecker thought he had not heard it until Crosshair's expression began to change, and he could not figure out what his brother was feeling. Crosshair had always been difficult to read.

"Really? So...you're a dad...now?" Crosshair said, almost in disbelief.

"Well..." Wrecker said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at Melita sadly. "We haven't decided what to call me exactly yet...and I'll say the adoption vow when she's a little older but...yeah."

Melita and Wrecker frowned, Tech, Echo, and Hunter shift uncomfortably in their chairs, and Omega stared at the ice cubes floating in her glass. With the exception of Citali and the baby, everyone seemed nervous. Crosshair was confused about why they were behaving this way when he realized it was because of him. Since his outburst with his brothers in Jemala, they were all a little on edge when interacting with him. His frequent mood swings did not help matters. Citali was the only one who did not take such things personally, probably since she was very accustomed to moody patients. The rest were behaving as if they believed Crosshair disapproved and he did not want that. Did he still feel betrayed that his brothers seemed to cast him aside so easily? Sure. Did the way they and their new family behave so recklessly infuriate him at times? Absolutely. But he was not angry about this, quite the opposite. 

Had he not witnessed how much Wrecker doted on the child, how patient and loving he was with her, Crosshair might feel differently. Like how he did when his brothers took Omega under their wings: almost offended that their squad was not enough, that Marina was not his responsibility, and that assuming the role of her father could spell trouble in the future. But Crosshair was happy for his brother and proud of him. He was happy for Melita as well because while he did not know much about Marina's biological father, he got the impression he was a despicable, cruel person. He was glad she did not have to raise a child with a man like that. Most of all, Crosshair was happy for the adorable, curly-haired baby who took after his brother in so many ways it was hard to believe they did not share blood. He was happy for all of them and it felt nice to be happy about something, even if this was another sign of just how much had changed. Things would never be as they once were, for good or ill. Gone were the glory days of the Bad Batch, of traveling the galaxy, of friendly competitions to see who could destroy more battle droids. This was the final nail in a coffin that held his old life. Wrecker was bound to his new family, as were Tech, Hunter, and Echo, and now he was too. He had to be if he wanted to remain with his brothers.    

Melita and Wrecker both looked wounded and seemed on the verge of tears while Crosshair thought of something to say. He had never been one for flowery words and only like to utilize his datapad to speak for him when absolutely necessary, so Crosshair made an attempt at humor, hoping his joke landed. “About kriffing time. I was wondering…how many slip-ups…it would take before this...happened.”

That was as good as saying "congratulations" and there was quiet, relieved laughter around the table. Wrecker smiled at his brother and gave his daughter a kiss while Melita gasped in mock outrage. “It was one time!” she exclaimed theatrically.

“Definitely…not one time."

They bantered back and forth a bit while Citali got up and gave Melita and Wrecker a hug. She sat back down and winked at Crosshair as he rolled his eyes, looking away from her. She was equally elated to see he was feeling more at home, more relaxed with all of them. Softening little by little, even if he did not realize it himself. 

They finished dinner and stayed in the garden for a while, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Citali tried to be present in the moment, to not think of dreams or her worries of what was yet to come. To revel in the pleasant weather, the delicious meal her husband made, the sweet-smelling wildflowers on the table Omega picked during her playdate at Iirde’s house, and the heavenly rays of light peaking out from behind the mountains as the sun set. Omega played tag with Hunter and Echo, Wrecker, Melita, and Crosshair "argued" whether Wrecker should be called "Daddy", "Papa", "Buir" or something else, and Tech walked around holding Marina and talking to AZI. All the while Citali sat and watched them while Snowball purred in her lap. Thoughts of her dreams and what their meaning could be tried to push through but she pushed back by focusing her attention on sensing the Force and one singular thought: that this was what she wanted for her father, Anaasa, Ruzin, and their child. To experience beauty and good food, jokes and family. Simple joys weaved together with pain, despair, and hardships to create the tapestry that was a life and to experience them all for as long as they could.

She recalled Ahsoka’s lesson about the Jedi philosophy on attachment. That attachment was not love or compassion, but the desire to possess and the inability to let go when the time came. All living things must die and there were circumstances that were outside of her control, there was no escaping that. It had always been hard for her to accept when her job was keeping people alive. Perhaps that was what her dreams of her father, of Juh and Sinya, were trying to tell her, as so many people had in the past. That she could fight like hell for the living, mourn those she lost and keep their memory alive however she could, but she could not let fear or guilt cast their shadow over her. 

One way or another, it was a lesson Citali had to learn and she was starting to. 

The shimmering dust flying in the air would be beautiful were it not toxic, and it made Nachi's lungs burn with every breath as if he was breathing in fire. Each step was agonizing with the wound on his leg that was beginning to fester, and his body was weak with fever. Yet he carried on, drawing strength from some unknown source to keep fighting. He thought of his daughter but could not dwell on thoughts of her too deeply, lest he become distracted. 

There was chaos all around him inside the mine as Twi’lek warriors from Ryloth and the northern continent of Ord Mantell killed their captors. The handful of clone troopers that had been sent to the camp as punishment were also privy to the plan Nachi had come up with, and they were doing their part but Nachi could not find his daughter’s friends anywhere. A stormtrooper raised a blaster at him and Nachi swung his pickaxe with all of his might, hearing that horrible cracking sound again. It was hard to tell if it was solely the helmet or the bones in the trooper’s skull as well. He felt a blaster bolt penetrate his bad leg and nearly collapsed but if he did, that was certain death. He stood firm, turned, and faced the stormtrooper that fired at him, driving his ax deep into their chest plate.

The majority of the slaves did not know what to do and stood still, frozen with fear like animals cornered by a predator. A few stormtroopers did as well while others desperately called for help, distressed to find their signal jammed. Most were firing their blasters at the instigators of the riot and Nachi watched a clone fall, dead before he hit the ground. He had never even learned the young man’s name. All hope seemed lost. Where was the girl who called herself Ashla? Where were Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe? He heard the explosion outside the mine that was supposed to destroy the heavy weaponry, the signal he had been looking for to start fighting but they were nowhere to be found. Had they abandoned them to their plight thinking it was a lost cause? There were too many stormtroopers for the dozen warriors and soldiers to take on alone, they needed them.

Then Nachi heard rapid blaster fire and a collective gasp of awe. He picked up the blaster from the trooper he struck down and turned to see the girl called Ashla. Wielding her dual white lightsabers, her face shrouded by her cloak, and with expert precision, she repelled the blaster fire directed at her and her squad back to their enemy while, and using the Force to throw stones at them. The sight inspired Nachi and rallied those who were hesitant to fight. Having a Jedi on their side must have made the odds of victory seem in their favor. 

Ahsoka moved in and began freeing people of their shackles while slaves used their pickaxes to do the same. Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe continued to take out stormtroopers and security droids, and soon there was a full uprising. Even children did what they could by throwing rocks and helping people to safety. In short order, the battle was done and the former slaves wept and cheered with jubilation. Nachi smiled as he watched his people run into the sunlight, free at last.

He dropped the blaster in his hand and collapsed to the ground, feeling the presence of death more acutely than he ever had before. He had survived the battle but if the blaster bolt to his leg did not kill him, the infection raging in his body probably would. At least he would die a free man. His thoughts turned to his wife, his son, and his daughter as his body shook with adrenaline, pain, and the chills of fever. He heard footsteps running towards him and a voice that was muffled as if he was underwater.  

“We did it Nachi,” Ahsoka said, putting a hand on his forehead and feeling his burning skin. “You and your people are free.”

"Your plan worked after all," Wolffe admitted. "I had my reservations but it was just as you said. Once everyone saw the lightsabers, they rallied with us."

Nachi chuckled. "Told...you...didn't I? A little hope...goes a...long way." His breath was becoming ragged and Rex removed his helmet to search the medpack for anything that might help him. "Thank you, Ashla,” Nachi said, reaching for Ahsoka's hand, no longer caring what the young woman's true name was or how she knew his daughter. Something about her reminded him of Citali. “To...all of you. Don’t bother…Captain. Anything you have...in that medpack...will be wasted on me. Just go…go get them somewhere safe. The places...I told you about. Please. Here…” Nachi used the last of his strength to put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the citali flower encased in resin. He placed gave it a kiss and placed it in Ahsoka's hand, closing her fingers around it. “Take this. If you ever see my Citali again…give it to her. Please. Tell her…that I love her very much.”

Nachi was regretting not letting them tell him how Citali was doing, thinking it would motivate him to survive. He tried to imagine what her life looked like these days but could not. Instead, he thought of the past. Of Citali splashing in the waves with her cousins in Jemala, playing dress-up or pretending to be Jedi with Melita, cooking with her mother, and bringing home stray Loth-cats. Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe knew he was close to death and Ahsoka could sense it through the Force. His infection had progressed rapidly in a few days despite the medicines they gave to him and the added injury from the battle seemed too much for his body to handle. Even so, they were not going to give up on him.

Ahsoka searched the medpack, trying to recall her minimal medical training with the GAR and her lessons with Citali, quickly finding the herbs and medicines that would hopefully keep Nachi alive until they could find a trained healer. Luckily Citali had given them a cheat sheet and color-coded all the jars and vials. She really does plan for everything. Had she been a Jedi during the war, the Separatists wouldn't have stood a chance. Ahsoka quickly administered what she could and Rex instructed Gregor, the strongest of them, to carry Nachi. He slung the Twi’lek man over his shoulders like a sack of grain and they took off running.

 “You can tell her yourself, Sir.”

Taglist: @darkangel4121 @arcee-1995 @gjrain20-starwars @thecoffeelorian @littlefeatherr @seriowan

Yeah...not my finest work and I really wanted it to be more exciting after such a long break but it is what it is. I promise you all won't be waiting for months for the next update.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 1

https://lune-hime.tumblr.com/masterlist

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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Tulipa Estella Rijnveld ~ A tulip whose soft white petals are stained with a crimson pigment.

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The putrid sounds of screaming and bones cracking were gradually soaked up by the trees and replaced by the stillness of the evening. The newfound silence of the countryside left an eerie calm over the two scouts but only amplified the ringing in Levi’s ears. The thumping of the horse’s muddy hooves against the hardened spring ground made his head throb as they rode further and further away from the massacre. Any sound was better than nothing, though, otherwise the silence would make him hear their foul cries.

Your pained shrieks.

In his arms you laid limp, the only sign of life was your slight breaths that just barely caressed the bottom of his chin. Whenever it became uneven the ringing in his ears sharpened. He would squeeze your side instinctively, something he would usually do to wake you up when you slept in too late. Only this time instead of your hand in his it was your blood staining his palm. He applied constant pressure to your bleeding side with one hand while the other, white-knuckled and bruised, held the reins. His grip was the only thing that kept him from floating off that damned horse. He was grateful he had lost his horse in the chaos instead of you; you loved the animal too much for Levi’s liking and he knew how devastated you would be when you woke up and it wasn’t there.

Once we get there you better fucking wake up, Y/N.

Levi had somehow managed to stop your bleeding with the piece of his cloak tightly wrapped around your waist combined with the pressure of his hand. This gave him minor peace of mind as you galloped through forest after forest. Emerging from the thicket, the last obstacle blocking your path to safety materialized on the horizon. The towering structure of Wall Rose was baked pale in the waning rays of light, it's untouched bricks proudly protecting those who resided inside. Levi wasted no time in grabbing the guards’ attention the moment he reached the barred gate.

“LET ME IN.” He screamed, his voice scattering the crows that rested on the railing of the wooden lookout post. Though he was extremely winded, his command was firm. There were some muffled curses and the sound of glass shattering before one guard peaked his heads over the edge, making eye contact with Levi’s impatient form below. To say he was startled was an understatement.

“C-captain Levi?” He called out in disbelief. The guard looked from the captain to the limp body in his arms, eyes widening in shock when he saw the remnants of your profuse bleeding.

“Captain Levi is here?” Another voice slurred from behind the first guard. A second soldier appeared, rushing over to lean heavily on the railing and gawk in awe.

“Hey, Captain! What are you doing all the way here at Krolva? What an honor, do you have a minute? My niece is a big fan and if I could get your autograph I’m sure she would really appreci-” He rambled excitedly before being cut off by a brisk slap from his comrade. He stumbled from the railing with a groan, clutching the back of his head in pain.

“Are yer eyes still workin’? Can’t you see he’s a little busy for that.  He’s riding with a wounded soldier, idiot.” His more sober counter part scolded. They soon got into a drunken argument about how to address superior officers, especially ones with pressing issues. The more their pointless conversation droned on the more Levi’s anxiety level rose. If he was delayed any longer he felt like he was going to shatter like the soldiers’ discarded beer bottle.

“I don’t have time for your shit!” He exclaimed. Your horse had begun to sense Levi’s urgency and started pawing at the ground and pacing restlessly in front of the gate.

The guards immediately halted their chatter and turned their full attention to him once again, looking like scolded children. There was a brief silence, broken by a single hiccup.

“Just. Let. Me. In. The. Damned. Gate.” Levi seethed, voice dangerously low. The guards exchanged nervous glances before scrambling to make the call that would raise the iron bars. The second the gate creaked upward, your horse was ready and anxiously bouncing on its hooves. When the opening was just large enough to fit through, your horse bolted through.

When the soldiers stationed at the guard tower would later tell the story to their comrades, and eventually Commander Pixis, they would swear that they saw the devil himself within Levi’s eyes.

Time had no meaning anymore as he weaved between stalled carts and yelping pedestrians. His eyes were on the prominent steeple that jutted out like a sunflower among dandelions from the jagged edges of the residential buildings. After rounding corner after corner and navigating the winding side streets he applied pressure to the reins at the front of the aged church. The grim sight that befell him festered at his already bleeding heart.

Sickness hung so thickly in the air that Levi felt it seeping into the pores of his skin. Hoards of ill residents congregated outside of the newly deemed hospital. Ymir’s stoney outstretched arms beckoned them to be herded like sheep into the eglise by their shepherds donned in nurses uniforms. So slowly were they being admitted that Levi could ascertain that the establishment, as grand as it looked on the outside, would not be able to harbor all of them. The mob groaned, wretched, sputtered and seemed to move as one undulating blob of disease.

Levi’s face contorted as the stench of bile singed the inside of his nose. Every one of his brain cells was scolding him for even contemplating the idea of having you treated at a place with such levels of contamination, but by the fucking walls he had no other foreseeable option. He kicked your horse briskly in the gut, abruptly trotting away to confront one of the nurses.

“You have to let me in. She’s bleeding out and needs stitches now.” Levi ordered with the remaining level-headedness he had hanging by his pinkie. His sanity was flowing out of him at the same rate blood was leaving your body. But he would not let his emotion influence his body and mind. The nurse’s eyes widened to the size of eggs, obviously overwhelmed by the sheer ghastliness of the situation.

“Captain Levi?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, first at the sight of the infamous soldier and then to the limp body clutched in his arms. Levi was aware of his so-called “popularity” but he swore he was going to explode if one more person acknowledged his name before the critical state of the soldier in his embrace. The nurse’s eyes darted to Levi’s bloodstained palm and she let out a small gasp barely audible through the cloth. Her eyebrows furrowed and Levi could infer she was frowning deeply.

“Sir, I’m sorry but we are at full capacity.” Her smooth voice was muffled by her mask. “A recent outbreak in the eastern district has us overwhelmed.”

Her excuse passed through one of Levi’s ears and right out the other. Every minute he sat here idly was another precious minute of life drained from you.

“You absolutely don’t have anyone that could treat her? Or- just give me some goddamn stitches and I’ll do it myself!” Levi demanded, tone flaring at the latter half of his proposal. The nurse gulped and shook her head somberly.

“The capital has been limiting the export of medical supplies to selected districts, including Krolva. We are maxed out now due to the illness...I’m afraid we can’t offer you anything.”

Levi dug his hand into the reins and tugged at them in frustration, making your horse skitter sideways. The scouts prided him in being one of the most rational members of its legions, which was a gift he was honing into as his head spun so quickly with what little options he had left. Uncharacteristically irrational thoughts tempted him, however when a splash of floral color caught his eye just behind the nurse’s shoulder it clicked.

He was in Krolva.

Krolva was your hometown.

You had family here.

Family with a distinct profession.

He stared at the ornamental tulips in the church yard for a moment before whipping his head towards the nurse.

“Where is the tulip farm.” Levi’s simple inquiry held the esteem of a military order of the utmost importance. Anticipation bubbled up within him as the nurse sputtered at his seemingly random change of subject.

“Um-The Vogel Estate is located slightly out of the district. If you go through the gates of Wall Rose its about a half an hour off the main road. There are signs for it you can’t miss.” The nurse instructed, pointing in the direction of the gates. Levi nodded once and was about to turn your horse around when the nurse let out a sound of protest.

“Wait!” She said hurriedly. She looked around nervously before reaching into her dress pocket, pulling out an ivory handkerchief and a small vile. Her gloved hands reached out to you looking at Levi for permission to remove his crimson caked hand.

“This saline won’t do much, but it will minimize infection.” She instructed, carefully lifting Levi’s hand. Sticky blood attempted to reconnect his limb to your side, however the nurse blotted the most recent stream away with a steady hand. Her breath hitched at the severity of your wound as she began pouring the contents of the vile onto your torn skin. She then folded the handkerchief and placed it firmly onto your side, grasping Levi’s hand and placing it over the fabric.

“This should keep more dirt from getting into her wound and irritating it. Keep applying steady pressure; thankfully it looks like you have been doing that already.”

Levi looked from his hand to her eyes, grateful for the sympathy that they held despite his frustration.

“Thank you.” He said curtly. Then, tugged on your horse’s reins and with one swift kick was off towards Wall Rose. To his relief, the gates were wide open as merchants filed through them. He deftly rushed past their inventory checks, unsympathetic to the whines in protest when your horse’s side rammed into a cart resulting in the spilling of an expensive keg of whiskey.

The signs to the estate took him through a picturesque village that made him question if the both of you were even residing in the living world anymore. When the crisp clacking of hooves against the brick road manifested into drum beats on the hard earth Levi had a small sliver of hope he was finally nearing his destination.

He had no idea how long the two of you had been riding for as crop fields turned into whistling wheat fields; the euphoric rolling hills were laughable in comparison to the bloodbath you had fled from. Levi only had a vague idea of where he was headed; his mental map painted by fond childhood memories and other stories of your youth. Based on your descriptions the place you talked so much about couldn’t be hard to miss.

You had taken Levi to Krolva once, a little less than a year ago he reckoned, on a rare scouting legion day off. However, you were unable to stay at your family home due to a myriad of circumstances. He wouldn’t have admitted it but a sweet, syrupy nervousness would churn in his stomach whenever you would talk about introducing him to your family and the other intimate aspects of your childhood. He had, indeed, already met the closest members of your family. One a scout that Levi was quite familiar with and the other the owner of this estate. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had met her and could say with the utmost certainty that it perplexed him beyond hell how you two were related. The fact that this was the first time you two were going to be there together, well the irony was ludicrous.

As humble houses began to litter the landscape he regained some confidence in his surroundings. Levi began analyzing each structure as your horse sped past, hooves hitting the stone path with the intensity of gunshots. His frantic mind began convincing himself that he was in fact in the wrong location when he saw the subject of all your musings.

Tulips.

A vast ocean of tulips that extended so far they seemed like they could caress the horizon. Levi had never seen such a sight in his life. He was never able to fully comprehend the pristine scenery you always described but seeing it laid out in front of him had enlightened his mind. Across from the floral sea sat a grand house, its elaborate frame sticking out against the rural landscape. Levi urged your horse on with a firm kick, a pained whinny erupting from its belly.

Upon reaching the structure Levi yanked on reigns, causing your horse to slide to a stop along the dirt path of the front yard. The homestead was silent except for your horse’s labored panting. Not even the sparrows that nested along the siding of the ornate porch chirped or rustled about. Levi took advantage of the quietness to make his presence known.

“H-HELP!” He shouted, his voice faltering a bit from his sore throat. He was far too used to being on the receiving end of this plea and it made him sink even more into desperation that this time the roles were reversed. The stillness lingered but a moment before the grand door swung open with a force that sent it bombarding against the siding of the house.

“Y/N!” A figure cried from the porch, their bellow echoing over the high entryway. The woman hurried down the steps with a spryness that betrayed her age. As she neared, Levi was faced with the familiar features of your grandmother.

“What in all hell happened, Levi?” She exclaimed with viscous horror. Her face contorted into various morphs of worry and disdain with each new angle she viewed of your mangled body.

“Y/N...she-” Levi wheezed, but his throat was too dry to formulate a proper sentence. His voice was cracked and his shoulder was numbing to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling. Your grandmother exhaled and collected herself, a wave of determination fastening like a uniform onto her being.

“Shit. No time for my questions, we need to get her inside now.” She stated firmly, releasing the reins from Levi’s locked grip. He nodded and allowed his hands to rise to your shoulders to pass you off to the woman. To his delight instead of fresh blood a layer of dark liquid caked his palm. This meant you hadn’t bled a significant amount since the hospital. He let out a shaky breath as the woman gathered you into her arms. You fell limply into her embrace, her knees buckling a bit at your weight but she quickly regained her posture. You looked like a corpse, pale and utterly dead looking, which made Levi want to throw up.

He never threw up.

As the woman began carrying you inside, Levi lifted his leg to dismount your horse but winced in pain. He hadn’t noticed his own injuries due to your condition, but now that the adrenaline had started to wear down they were catching up to him. When he landed the dismount he was met with a sharp pain along his shoulder blade. The pain was just an annoyance though in the grand scheme of the situation. The one thing that mattered the most in his life had almost been torn to pieces. So his shoulder could wait.

He began to hobble towards the front door, leading your horse along with him. He let go of the reins just shy of the porch steps.

“Wait here.” He coughed. There was of course no way your horse would understand him, let alone obey him. Knowing that animal it most definitely wouldn’t stay in the same place Levi left it.

Making his way into the house he paused in the entryway, taking in his surroundings. The foyer ahead of him was spacious; a large staircase laid directly in front of him and tall archways to both his sides led further into the lodgings. The quarters screamed quaint luxury; from the high ceilings, the perfectly intact pearl colored walls, to the elaborately carved hand railings of the stairs. He knew your family wasn’t exactly poor, but he didn’t know they were this economically endowed.

“Up here, quickly.” The woman called from the second floor, consequently snapping him from his daze. Blinking a couple times he charged up the stairs, taking the polished wooden steps two at a time. Once at the top he saw an open door to his right, one of many along the hallway. Just like the rest of the house the room was big, wide windows letting in the evening sunlight and casting a warm glow across the chambers. You were splayed across the silk sheets, the smooth linen now dirtied by your blood and god knows who’s else's. Your shattered form contrasted with the affluence of the room and he felt like he had just walked into your funeral service. The woman was seated at your side next to the nightstand. She had a variety of medical supplies splayed across the small table; needles, thick thread, cotton, alcohol, steel scissors, gause.

“Help me adjust her.” She requested in a low tone. Levi nodded once before walking to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly grasping your shoulders. The woman had laid you haphazardly on your side, unable to properly lay you straight due to her old age. Levi was impressed nonetheless, however, that she had carried you all the way up those stairs from the front yard. He moved your body so you were laying on your back, arms against your sides. Not wanting to get in her way, Levi planted himself on the bed at your other side.

“I’m thankful that you brought her here.” She said as she cut away pieces of your shirt with the scissors. “But why in holy hell did you not bring her to a proper medical facility? Half of her got torn up by one of those fuckers.” She exclaimed, her voice quaked with emotion but her hands remained steady.

The woman really had a way with words.

“Apply pressure to her wound while I get the stitches.” She instructed, immediately padding about the room to gather her medical supplies. Levi did as he was told and cringed when your flesh squelched under his palm.

“The hospital at Krolva was full, they wouldn’t let us in because of the illness.” Levi explained in a voice uncharacteristically small. His gaze remained fixed on his hands. Damn, his fingers were twitching.

Your grandmother slammed a bottle of alcohol down on the nightstand in disgust. Her weathered arms shook slightly at the impact.

“That damned hospital, if you can even call it that, is never prepared to take on the ailments of this city.” She spat. Now having gathered all the necessary items she pulled the stool from the vanity and set it so she was level with your injury.

In the fray he hadn’t been able to get a proper look at your injury. The woman had bunched up your tattered shirt just under the swell of your chest. She examined your torso with seasoned eyes, yet Levi saw a tinge of worry laced in her gaze. The skin that was exposed looked like someone had taken a rake to it; indigo bruises framed a sea of tattered skin in the shape of a crescent moon. Your body bent in at an unnatural angle where the titan had bitten down on your side and Levi was just thankful that he couldn’t see any bone. Seeing you in this crippled state caused tears to sear the inside of his eyes but he refused to let the floodgates burst. This was not the time to be weak, especially with this woman here.

“Don’t go crying on me now, shorty. I know you aren’t the soft type.” Levi jumped at the familiarity in her tone. It put him on edge at first; he had arrived under dire circumstances now she was calling him names and was talking as if he was an old friend. But it was oddly comforting; the boldness and confidence in her voice eased away some of his jitteriness. He huffed in response before watching her work again.

Your grandmother used gentle fingers to assess the wound, gingerly prodding the areas where you should have had skin but you didn’t. She then reached for the cotton and alcohol and began to clean the wound as much as she could; the large teeth shaped holes in your side would be difficult for any trained physician to work with. But she handled the medical supplies with a grace Levi never considered possible. When she was finished cleaning your side she spoke up.

“She’s unconscious but she could still accidentally bite her tongue.” She stated, standing from the chair to rummage through the carven dresser. Out of the top drawer she pulled out a leather belt. She returned to the bedside and handed it to Levi.

“Place this in her mouth. I’m about to start stitching her wound.” She instructed, cutting a long piece of thread with the steel scissors. His fingertips brushed your jaw as he guided your mouth open. You were already slack jawed as little puffs of air were rising from your agape lips. He folded the belt in half two times and placed it between your teeth, careful to keep your tongue along the bottom of your mouth lest you started to choke.

Once he was done, Levi studied the woman’s hands as she prepared the needle. Her fingers were wrinkled, coarse, bent at the joints, and they looked like they had endured a lifetime of hard labor. Those aged fingers preformed with precision and finesse from the moment the needle entered your skin to the tying of the final thread.

Although not awake, you had in fact tried to bite down on the belt, letting out muffled groans each time skin met needle. Levi desperately wanted to look away each time but didn't out of fear you would bite through leather.

“Talk me through what happened.” Your grandmother said without a wavering of her concentration. Had she sensed his uneasiness? Levi swallowed hard, the action painful on his parched throat.

Levi’s whole body stung with exhaustion and pain as he prepared to explain. When he spoke again his voice was still hoarse but not as jagged as before.

“What was planned as a routine expedition turned into a recovery mission for Eren-”

“Mhmm, the boy who can shift into a titan.” Your grandmother interjected, mostly as clarification for herself. She attentively continued to thread you back together as if you were one of your chewed on stuffed animals that sat atop your dresser.

“Yeah. Y/N’s squad was set to clear out any incoming titans on the western edge. That’s when the abnormal appeared. I saw the flare and-” He explained, almost in a whisper. Damn did his throat hurt. Damn did everything hurt.

“You acted out of order.” Your grandmother stated simply. A knowingly somber smile upturning her wrinkled mouth. Her words and the soft manner in which they were said caused Levi’s mouth to hang agape mid sentence.

“Which I am grateful for. Otherwise she might have died alone out there.” She added. Her expression was as even as her handiwork but Levi could see that in her eyes concern was brewing like freshly charred coals.

“A ripe piece of shite it is that this is the longest conversation we’ve had isn’t it?” Your grandmother huffed a dry laugh. Levi could only nod in response as he watched your jaw clench when her needle deftly plunged into a heavily bruised area.

She was right. The other times he had interacted with the woman were brief and professional. Both were at military events that left little room for idle chatter, seeing as she was a highly praised veteran of the garrison. One interaction occurred before you two were committed and one...well that awkward experience could not have been far enough from the forefront of his mind.

It took thirty minutes for the woman to piece you back together but it felt like a fortnight for Levi.  When she was finished she exhaled loudly and wiped her hands on a now stained crocheted dish towel.

“All done.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Levi couldn't begin to thank her enough for all she had done in such a short amount of time.

“Thank you, for everything.” He coughed, thus sending a wave of pain down his shoulder blade.

A huff of laughter left her lips and she sent a wyry smile his way.

“Well, what kind of grandmother would I be if I left my granddaughter as the remains of titan fodder? Come on let’s get her in some clean clothes and wash some of this blood off.” Levi nodded once and proceeded to help your grandmother get you changed and cleaned up. When the two of them had finished you almost looked back to your normal self; your body tucked under the satin covers in an elegant ivory nightgown. Your features were soft, plush lips parted and breathing steady. You now fit in with the lavish ambiance of the space. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. That is until he felt a poke on his arm.

“It won’t do either of us any good if we just sit here staring at her. Come downstairs, i’ll make you some food and stitch you up too.” Your grandmother was looking up at him sternly. Levi shot her a confused glare and she met his gaze with another chuckle.

“You don’t hide your wounds very well, humanity’s strongest. Now come on, don’t make an old lady wait.”

[dearestones]

Knot a Problem (Brawler x Hoodlum)

Warnings: Fluff.

Anonymous Request: Some cute domestic Brawler/Hoodlum perhaps? They deserve it 🥺

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It was still early in the morning, but Hoodlum felt like his life was literally crashing into pieces and bursting in flames right before his eyes. Before he had gone to sleep, he had set his alarm for five in the morning, which was just enough time for an adequate shower, to get himself a healthy, fulfilling breakfast, and to get himself dressed in clothes that would make him look somewhat professional. However, despite such precautions that he had taken, Hoodlum found himself running a little behind schedule.

He wasn’t late enough to cause enough panic to make him think that he was going to be late for his job interview, but it was late enough for him to become jittery and anxious.

And whenever he felt jittery and anxious, that’s when he started to make mistakes.

As the young man carefully slid his comb into his hair (for once not gelled up in his usual pompadour) into a ‘serious’ hairstyle, he heard Brawler bustle his way in. Unlike Hoodlum, Brawler had done well enough to integrate himself back into Kansai society. He put his muscles and stamina to good use as a construction worker and part time mechanic. Although he was still as blustery and reckless as he was back as an Akudama, nowadays, Brawler found himself straying away from old habits and refraining from causing more destruction than what was necessary.

As for Hoodlum… he always wanted to be one of those stereotypical Japanese salarymen (a dream that the well off folk in the middle and upper rings could indulge in while he and most other Akudama couldn’t) and what better way than to start now?

However, there was one thing that was stopping the young man from fulfilling such a dream.

You see, Hoodlum happened to acquire a good looking suit. A dark grey, almost black ensemble, with a crisp white shirt to match. The only splash of color that Hoodlum had wanted was the tie itself: a stern navy blue that felt utterly unreal as he felt the silken fabric slide through his clammy fingers.

As Hoodlum studied the fabric, unsettling thoughts began to fill his head. After years of scamming his way through life, he had a chance to turn over a new leaf, but… What if he wasn’t good enough? What if the prejudices against former Akudama were still going to plague him?

Hoodlum wasn’t like Brawler who was always earnest and transparent. Hoodlum’s mouth was always willing to run without reason, despite his attempts to stop himself from ruining his chances of living a better lifestyle.

On the other hand, Brawler had experienced his fair amount of trouble, but he had already established a reputation and a personality—both of which convinced his employers that while he had his fair share of violence, he was earnest and fair when he wanted to be. He was what the public expected a reformed Akudama to look like—obedient, somewhat naive, and not at all troublesome.

Hoodlum envied him for that.

Now, when it seemed that when Hoodlum was only a step away from achieving the same happiness and fulfillment that Brawler had, everything seemed to fall apart. His suit felt too starchy, too tight against his shoulders and his neck. He could feel his sweat mingle under his crisp white shirt, possibly staining his set of clothing. But what was worse, what truly irked him at that moment, was his tie.

It had been years since he had last stumbled into an office for an interview and even longer since he had last done himself up all fancy like this. His persona as a low level gangster didn’t necessitate the presence of a tie.

How did he do it?

Much to his frustration, he couldn’t quite direct his fingers to the well practiced motions of tying a tie.

As Hoodlum continued to fiddle with the navy fabric Brawler walked up to him an uncharacteristically contemplative look on his face. Dressed in an everyday white shirt and jeans, Brawler didn’t look as intimidating as he did back as a full fledged Akudama. A little taken aback by Brawler’s serious expression, Hoodlum dropped his tie onto their shared bed before pasting a wide smile on his face.

It was one thing for Hoodlum to be nervous, but he didn’t want Brawler to worry about him like that!

Brawler always looked better smiling…

“What’s up, bro? You look like you got a bit of the jitters! Not like I know personally ‘cause I’m—”

Brawler picked up the tie, his broad hands stroking the fabric softly in his touch. “Ya need help?”

Hoodlum waved his hand in a dismissive motion. “Me? Need help? Why would you—”

Before he could finish his loud proclamation of ‘no, I don’t need help at all because I definitely know what I’m doing’, Brawler pulled up the collar on Hoodlum’s starched white shirt and set to work. Brawler gently laid the tie around Hoodlum’s neck, his hands moving in gentle, yet precise motions. Up and down, the tie was shifted and adjusted; Brawler always made sure that Hoodlum was comfortable by paying extra attention to Hoodlum’s expressions.

Needless to say, Brawler had a feeling that Hoodlum’s reddening face was caused by something more personal than the fact that he could be choking from lack of airflow.

With a few final tugs and the flattening of Hoodlum’s collar, Brawler stepped back to admire his work.

“Not sure if ya wanted a full or half Windsor so I went with full.” Brawler stuck his arms into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels, a smirk on his features. “Ya don’t mind, right, bro?”

Hoodlum’s face, if possible, became even more red and awed. “O-of course not! I was just about to recommend a full Windsor, you know? Anyways, I’ve gotta—” Hoodlum’s eyes managed to sneak a peek at his phone’s clock only to find— “Shoot! I’m gonna be late and I didn’t make lunch—”

Hoodlum’s eyes widened when he felt a bag pressed into his hands.

“I’ve always got your back, brother!” Brawler let out a hearty laugh as he practically punched Hoodlum on the shoulder. “I might have burnt a few things, but it should be more than enough for lunch. Ya good?”

Hoodlum, not wanting Brawler to see the tearful look in his eyes, merely wrapped his thin arms around Brawler’s thick and sturdy middle.

“With you at my side? Always, big guy.”

Hoodlum resolved to have Brawler tie his tie everyday if he ever landed the job.

.

.

.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

AKUDAMA DRIVE MASTERLIST

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 2

Hello, and once again, welcome back to midnight Striga! Thanks for reading!

With a shout, Eda gripped the arm, slamming the attached body onto the ground. Looming over the hooded figure now gasping on the ground, Eda growled. “Now listen here you sneaky bastard, I don’t know who you are but you caaaaaaannnnnnn!?” She trailed off from her threat, shock rising as the hood fell back.

“Oh, hello, Edalyn!” The old woman cheered, flipping herself up and onto her feet. In a blink, she rushed in, pulling a frozen-stiff Eda into a bearhug. “I have so much news to tell you about!”

Luz blinked, eyes flicking between the two, before the features clicked. Eyes widening, she shot Eda a look. “So… this is your mom?” She asked, pointing at the woman.

Shaking herself back into the present, Eda groaned, lightly shoving the woman away. “Yes, unfortunately.” Giving a deep sigh, Eda turned to Luz, gesturing to the woman next to her. “Luz, meet my mother, Gwendolyn Clawthorne, and one of the single most recurring pains in my butt. Speaking of which,” She turned to Gwen, scowling, “What do you want, mom?”

Gwen gave a beaming grin, tilting her head in apparent thought. “Is it really such a shock that a mother would want to see her daughter?” She asked, neither aware of the way Luz tensed at her question. Both Gwen and Luz reeled back at the response she got, however.

“Yes.” Eda bit out, intense bitterness coating her voice. Standing firm, she put both hands on her hips, head tilted up in anger. “Everytime… EVERYTIME!! You’ve visited me since I’ve been living on my own, it’s been to try some cockamayme cure for my curse. And they. Never. Work!! So yeah, I’d say it’s reasonable to be a little skeptical.” She finished, panting slightly at the exertion of her outburst, lightly covering part of her wrist, and the feathers underneath.

Luz desperately held in the urge to shout at Eda for talking about the woman before her like that, but she could grudgingly admit to seeing where she was coming from. However, neither of them were fully prepared for Gwen’s reaction. Gwen gave a tired sigh, a sad smile forming across her features. “I do suppose I deserved that.” She chuckled, reaching up to Eda’s face, tracing a hand across her jaw, much to her daughter’s discomfort. “I promise, Edalyn, I just want to talk. That’s all. Please?”

Eda bit her lip, conflicted. On the one hand, she was sick and tired of being burned by her mother’s antics… and on the other hand, she was sick of her family being in pain, and was honestly wanting to have genuine quality time with her mother for once. Deciding to take the risk and just bite the bullet, Eda sighed, relenting. “Okay, fine! We can talk.” She said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. Turning a raised eyebrow to Luz, Eda asked, “You want in on this, kid?”

Seeing the two witches giving her matching looks of inquisitiveness, Luz blinked, before rapidly shaking her head. “Oh no!” Pointing to Eda, she continued, “You need this a lot more than I do at the moment, and, if that brief back and forth was any indicator, the two of you have enough issues to work through WITHOUT me being thrown in.” She stated, stepping back, arms raised. Shooting Eda a brave smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll just make a day of it in town. I mean,” she shrugged, “I’ve kinda got to get used to people being suspicious of me in public all over again, why not start now?”

Coming to an agreement (“If you die, I’m selling all your stuff!” “Love ya too, Eda!), the group headed their separate ways, promising to catch up later. Gwen giddily dragged Eda along, who was personally torn between annoyance at the manhandling, and amusement at her mother’s amusement. “Yeesh, calm down, Gwen! You’re gonna rip my arm off!” Eda half-joked. Gwen’s yanks actually did have a real chance of removing her arms, but it’s not like that was a problem with her condition, really.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear, I’m just so excited!” Gwen squealed, a sheepish grin filling her face. “I just…” Her smile turned sad, “I just really wanted to see you.”

Eda gave her own sad laugh. “Don’t worry, I can understand the feeling.” Her mind flashed back to how she was after she and Raine split up, all the nights she wished they were back, wanting to see them. A thought came to her. “Hey, I just noticed… where’s Hawksley?” She asked.

Gwen gave her a mischievous wink. “Oh, he’s just looking after our other guest.”

Eda shot her a look of bafflement. “Other guest!? What are- oh no.” She groaned, as realization set in. Turning her gaze, she was in no way surprised to see Lilith, glumly slumped over a table before them, Hawksley perched on top of her head. What did shock Eda, however, was the bottle of Appleblood Lilith was chugging. Turning accusing eyes towards an unrepentant Gwen, Eda shouted. “SERIOUSLY!?”

Cheerfully whistling to herself, Luz strolled along, using the noise of her whistling to tune out the whispers and muttering all around her. It was honestly a neat trick, but she was well aware it wouldn’t work forever, especially if she ended somewhere more crowded. Scanning the area, Luz was disappointed, if unsurprised, by the sight of parents tucking their kids behind them as she moved past. It hurt. It was understandable, but it still hurt.

Sighing, Luz slipped into the shadows, rolling her eyes when the sounds of the main streetside picked up in volume at her ‘departure.’ Still, the sheer amount of gossip was entertaining, if only for the wild speculations and rantings of the more… colorful members of the local communities. Seriously, her? A shapeshifting giraffe seeking to supplant the Emperor through a false army of Abominations wrapped in Illusions? Pfft! She was gonna have to tell Eda that one, preferably when she was trying to drink something!

Laughing internally at the thought of an Owl Lady Spit Take, Luz tightened her movements against the wall. Her ears pricked at the sounds up ahead; it didn’t sound like the usual rampant paranoia. And if she focused enough, she was almost certain…

“Look, I know things are… really crazy right now.” Amity’s voice sounded out, confirming Luz’s suspicions. “But I honestly think this’ll be good for all of us. The Moonlight Conjuring is an important aspect of our culture, and is a funtime all around. If you all show up while it’s still daylight, nothing should go wrong.” Moonlight Conjuring? Hmm… something to talk with Eda about.

“B-But what if those Oroboros creeps attack again!? I can’t put my parents through that!” An unfamiliar voice questioned, concerned murmurs of agreement sounding in response.

Amity’s voice sighed. “I… I know it’s scary. The things I saw at the Covention, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget, not entirely.” Her voice took a melancholy note, before firming. “But in a way, that’s why we have to do this!” At the sounds of confusion, she continued. “That attack was supposed to make us afraid, to make us all panic. Something that it’s managed in spades all across the Isles. But for all that Oroboros is powerful, it’s an organization with a finite amount of resources. They can’t be everywhere at once, and no organization would commit precious resources to attack a party for school youths!” The nervousness died down, replaced with cautious contemplation. Luz gave a little smirk; Miss Blight apparently had a way with words, and some serious charisma if they were already changing their tune.

“I’ll go.” A familiar voice said. It took Luz a moment to place it; it was the voice of that girl who Boscha had burned! Her voice spoke up again. “If you can find someone to protect us, just in case, I’ll go.”

“W-Well, that’s fantastic!” Amity said, faux-excitedly. If Luz had to guess, her friend speaking up had caught her flat-footed, and she was trying to get things under control. “And I know just the person to do so! If you all show up before sundown, I promise, on the Blight name, you’ll all have an amazing time!” At that, all potential opposition crumbled, a chorus of agreements and cheers going up. As sounds of footsteps headed off, Luz peaked around the corner. She saw Amity, jerkily waving goodbye to her… friends? Acquaintances? Her face stretched into a plastic smile. 

Suddenly, Amity rammed her head against the wall, knocking her forehead against the stone repeatedly, frustrated grumbles coming forth. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Oh, I’ll find someone to guard us, everyone! Leave everything to Amity, everyone! I swear it on my family name!” She slapped her hand against her face. “Titan, what was I thinking!?”

“I don’t think you were.” Luz dryly noted, walking out from her pseudo-hiding place. Amity leapt back, startled. Luz noted how quickly she shifted into a ready position, one arm pulled back to cast, the other slightly pressed forward to defend herself, legs prepped to spring to either side and out of the way. She was honestly impressed, the girl had some athletic experience.

“Oh! It’s you!” Amity exclaimed, relaxing slightly, if not fully. “Luz, correct?” She said, more than asked, extending a hand for a shake. Smirking, Luz complied, giving the girl a firm grip, Amity’s eyes widening at the painless pressure. Schooling her features into a cordial smile, she grinned. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Really?” Luz asked, blinking rapidly. She had honestly not been expecting that. She cocked her head. “I kind of expected you to be some level of scared of me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, what you represent terrifies me.” Amity said frankly, the sheer honesty in her voice drawing a surprised snort out of Luz. “However,” Amity continued, her eyes focusing on Luz. “I gained a look into your measure during the Covention. You are wild, independant, and freely and liberally resort to violence even faster than Witches and Demons do. But you’re also loyal, caring, compassionate, and understanding, with a strong sense of duty. While I find you puzzling, your traits are those that I find commendable.”

“HA! Glad to hear.” Luz smirked. Her face shifted into a serious frown, contemplative. “You know, I overheard your little problem. So,” She grinned cheekily, “You need to find a bodyguard, eh?”

“Ugh! Please don’t use that phrase!” Amity near-pleaded, hiding her face in her hands. “My family has been going nuts over my safety. I am honestly lucky that they let me go into town without an armed guard of Abominations!”

Luz snorted, blinking at the mental image of Abominations skulking around Bonesburough, scanning for threats and hovering over an annoyed Amity. “Wow, over-protective, much?”

Amity exhaustedly nodded. “Yeah. My parents… aren’t the best, but they do care about me. Even if they care about our image more.” She said, muttering the last part spitefully. Shaking her head, she refocused on the original topic. “But yes, I need someone who’s willing to stand guard for me and those I plan on inviting to my Conjuring.”

“What about me?”

Amity blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“What about having me be your guard?” Luz elaborated, shrugging. “I’ve got combat experience, free time, and you won’t have to pay me!”

“That’s-!” Amity started, before pausing. She brought her fingers to her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. “That could actually work.”

“Really?” Luz asked, cocking her head. “The offer was serious, but I wasn’t actually expecting you to agree.”

Amity gave a grave smile, nodding. “Indeed, I’m willing to agree to this. If you don’t have any requirements?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

Luz paused, thinking. “If you could invite Willow and Gus, I’d really appreciate it.” She finally said.

“Done.” Amity said decisively, typing up the messages on her scroll. “That honestly works out rather well; ever since their actions at the Covention, their popularity has sky-rocketed and my friends have been wondering about meeting with them so this is an excellent opportunity. If that’s all, I will see you at my home before sunset; you can ask Willow and Augustus for directions.” WIth that said, she turned on her heel, marching off. Luz shook her head at Amity’s antics, before turning to leave herself. Neither noticed the group of individuals perched on a nearby building, the apparent leader’s eyes tracking Luz’s every movement.

“Of course,” Eda muttered, staring in resignation at the sight of her sister, chugging away on the table in front of her. Shooting an accusing stare towards Gwen, Eda moodily stomped over, plopping herself down from across her sister, glaring at her.

“EeeeDalyn?” Lilith blearily asked, words slurring slightly. She hiccuped, bottle awkwardly cradled in her hand, the other bracing her against the table. “Since when are you purple?” She muttered.

“Purple?” Eda said incredulously. She turned to Gwen, concerned. “Is it me, or is she…?”

“Absolutely wasted? No, it isn’t you, she really is.” Gwen noted dryly, casually yanking the bottle of Appleblood out of Lilith’s hands, ignoring her weak protests. “I dragged her out of her barracks, kicking and screaming. I believe a few of the Coven Guards who tried to stop me may be in need of Healing. Now, we are going to take the time to stop, think, and figure things out. As a family.” She said firmly, arms crossed.

The bitter snort came from Lilith, of all people, much to Eda and Gwen’s shock. “A-A family.” She chuckled, swaying lightly. “Is that what we are?” She laughed again, slapping the table. “And here I thought we were a bunch of strangers, pretending we CaReD about each other!!”

Gwen and Eda shared unsettled looks. Gwen hesitantly spoke up. “Now, Little Flea, I know I’ve been… distant, but-”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!” Lilith shrieked, eyes wild, before calming down. “I-I haven’t been ‘Little Flea,’” She muttered derisively, “Since you abandoned me!” She accused, fist pounding against the table.

“Abandon!?” Eda exclaimed, confused and alarmed at her estranged sister’s behavior. “Sis, I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but how has Gwen abandoned you?”

Eda reeled back at the bitter anger in Lilith’s face. “She never came to my induction into the Coven, did you know that?” She said, “She never showed up for any of my promotions, any of my awards, anything!! She just, up and left!” Lilith laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “And here, I learned that she’s been visiting you for Years!! Trying to cure you!”

Gwen’s eyes grew misty. “I have made mistakes, and I apologize for that, Lilybug.” She said, reaching out towards Lilith, unconcerned when she slapped her hand away. “You were always so strong, so independent. I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry if I hurt you because of it. But that’s why I dragged you both here!” She pleaded, glancing at the two of them. She wrung her hands in nervousness. “I just didn’t want to fail the two of you again. I know I can’t fix the pain between the two of you, and I don’t expect to. I just wanted to get you two together to hash out some ground rules, if that’s okay?” She explained, a hesitant note at the end

Eda and Lilith shared a glance, a moment of grudging understanding passing between them.

Eda turned to her mother first. “Okay, I guess we can do that. But if you’re serious about being in my life for real, I don’t want you coming around with crazy cures anymore.” Her voice took on a tender note. “If you’re gonna come over, I just want it to be so we can spend some time together, okay?”

“And I’d prefer you to visit me AT ALL!” Lilith shouted, some of the slurring fading from her voice. Eda was honestly surprised at how quickly she was recovering; a glance at her neck, and the Healing Glyph tagged onto it explained much; it was forcibly purging the Appleblood from her body, getting her back to normal. Eda winced; Lilith was going to feel like HELL when that thing wore off. “I want you to visit me, ask me about my day, take an interest in my Life!!” Tears pricked at Lilith’s eyes. “I want my mother back!” She pleaded.

Gwen turned a watery smile towards the two of them. “I think I can manage those requests.” She said, a pleased smile on her face. She grew serious. “Now then, If we are going to act like a family, as a whole that is, I am going to be doing my motherly duties, and establishing some rules for the two of you.” She stated, nodding even as her daughters groaned. She continued, ignoring their annoyance. “The rules are simple; Eda, you are to no-longer deliberately antagonize Lilith. If the two of you run into one another, you are to keep a civil attitude and in no way try to anger or upset her. Lilith, you are to cease your attitude in attempting to bring Edalyn in under the guise of being cured. If Edalyn is brought in, it is to be because she is a criminal and flouting the law, not out of an inane desire to cure her. Besides, I strongly doubt Belos would do so in the first place.” She finished, feeling a smug satisfaction at her daughters’ matching look of dumbfounded shock.

“B-But! He promised me!” Lilith said, whined really. “He gave me his word!!”

Eda groaned, even as Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Lilith, Belos’ regime is built on his Coven System, something Eda’s very existence stands in challenge to,” She said gently, “There are no circumstances in which he will EVER cure her. If you bring her in, he will have her thrown into the Conformatorium, and nothing more. He has all the leverage, and all the authority, and you have nothing that could compel him into curing her at your behest.”

Lilith shakily pulled herself to her feet, staggering off, a mumbled excuse echoing as she rapidly walked off, tears in her eyes. Gwen sighed. That had gone about as well as she’d been expecting.

Eda turned an impressed look towards Gwen. “Well dang, Mom! Didn’t know you were such a rebel!”

Gwen shot her daughter an unimpressed look. “I’m not.” She said primly.

Eda had a look of disbelief. “Really? Because you didn’t have a problem calling out Bonehead on his crap.” She said snarkily.

“That is because I am under no delusions as to his nature.” She said, “Belos’ rise to power and initial rule was tyrannical and cold, utterly without mercy. I, and many others, chose to join his burgeoning power because it was literally either him or complete chaos and anarchy. Not everyone can survive it as well as you, Edalyn.” She said archly, almost daring her to protest.

Eda opened her mouth to do just that, but paused, considering. Ultimately, she sighed, pushing herself away from the table. “Yeah, that’s true. I still hate him, and I always will, but I can get why people shacked up with him, even if I disagree with him on principle.” She grudgingly, painfully admitted. Giving her mother a level look. “This, as short, weird, and awkward as it’s been, was nice. I really hope you keep in touch for real, okay?” She said softly, before walking away.

Gwen just smiled, tears of relief and sadness filling her eyes. It wasn’t much… but it was a start.

[shadow-scenarios]

If the prompt thing is still available, can I get one? Akechi angst with the song meet me on the battlefield by svcrina? Congrats!

This took me back to my 2012/3 Nightcore phase, where I had little knowledge of music.

There are no happy endings on this blog, Anon. Especially with Akechi.

- Nexus.

Meet Me On The Battlefield

Trigger Warning:

Blood ; Violence ; Injuries ; Death ; Gore ; Swearing

Genre:

Angst.

Description:

A battle with Goro Akechi goes horribly wrong. Perhaps becoming his significant other was not the best idea...

When the news had reported the suicide of Akira Kurusu, the Phantom Thieves thought they had won. The plan was coming to fruition & even Akechi had fallen for their trap. No one could prevent them from reforming society, or so they had so foolishly thought. Shido’s Palace was a long haul but they were progressing steadily. Obtaining the Letters of Introduction was exhausting & yet there was something not quite right. It was almost as though they could feel someone watching them. Perhaps it was merely the presence of Shadows that brought them onto high alert but a gut feeling kept telling them that it was incorrect.

Dispatching of the supposed cleaner, Fox handed over the Letter to Joker. He seemed confident throughout this exploration but his smile was too tight & his hand slightly shaky. They had noticed but not brought a point to bring it up, as it would merely cause more stress for their leader. Everyone else seemed more intent on serving justice. So when Joker told them that they would be staying on the back lines for the rest of the Palace & to provide guidance alongside Oracle, it was surely a shock. Most of their skills were not in the healing department but they decided it best not to argue. Getting out alive was the priority.

The boiler room was sweltering. Steam rose from the engines & a poignant scent eminated from nearby vents, leaving a bad taste in their mouth. Unpleasantness soon turned to horror as someone dropped from a higher level. Goro Akechi, who was previously their significant other, stood in their way, an indignant sneer as he lectured the others about justice & revenge. Chronostasis seemed to occur as they took a moment to process.

Gone were the features of the detective they had fallen in love with. Insanity danced within his pupils & although they knew he had been the perpetrator of the mental shutdowns beforehand, nothing could prevent the raw emotions as everything began to settle in. Perhaps because they had not seen him directly meant that they had repressed these feelings. Everything they knew was crumbling but one coherent thought was what they managed to cobble together: Joker had known that they would have to fight & that was why he put them on the back lines.

Their internal monologue was interrupted when the battle began & the Shadows began to turn psychotic. Mystified by the appearance of a second Persona, albeit brief, there was much to contemplate. Zoning back into the fight, they improved the defenses of those on the front lines with an item before laying down suppressing fire in order to prevent Mona & Queen from becoming overwhelmed with healing responsibilities. Akechi soon stepped into the fight & they hesitated. They never wanted to cause him harm so they made a conscious decision to focus on keeping the others alive.

His first defeat came all too quickly. The group overwhelmed him with elemental attacks & Joker bolstered their offensive power with Physical moves. Collapsing onto the ground, Akechi had apparently lost. the Phantom Thieves withdrew as they attempted a persuasive route, all for nought. They knew he would not accept, no matter what everyone said to convince him. After all, despite his 180 in personality, he was still unwavering. A true battle began once Loki was summoned & it seemed to not be in their favour.

Everyone was already exhausted from the previous battle & though their attempts to fight & keep each other alive could be considered heroic, the fall of Joker said it all. Though the others had attempted to interpose themselves between the attack, the light eventually left the eyes of the rebel formerly known as their leader.

They did not know what was worse: The fact that Akechi had left them until last or their refusal to harm him. Bodies lay around them & what was once the scent of steam was muddied by the metallic bite of blood. Masks were discarded next to them & most of the others had sustained serious stab wounds that led to pools of blood. Even Oracle had been downed by a stray gunshot, both her outfit & Persona unsuitable for defense. Knelt over the body of Skull, one of the first members to welcome them was where they were positioned as their former teammate approached.

A gun pressed into the back of their head & he laughed, seemingly amused by the turn of events. They simply stared into his reddish-brown eyes apathetically in response.

“ If you’re going to kill me, just do it now. I can’t bare the sight of you, especially after you stole my heart & killed everyone I cared about, ” was all they demanded.

“ It’s your fault for falling for it in the first place, you know. Here I thought you were different from the others... Then you sided with these pieces of shit & their self-righteous sense of justice. Oh well. None of that matters now. ”

Opening their mouth to retort was interrupted by the pull of a trigger. There was no scream of pain, no exhausting fight put up. This was the mercy he spared for his significant other. It was an instant kill & there was no torture, unlike the others who were left to bleed out.

Word Count: 870

Publish Date: 28.10.20

[dragonologist-phd]

Prayer and Ink

A conversation about tattoos and vallaslin leads Zevran to reconsider what it means to have faith in something- and in someone.

Written for ZevWarden Week 2020, a combination of the prompts "faith" and "tattoos"

(AO3)

“Do they mean anything?”

The question catches Zevran by surprise. It’s been a long, tedious day of marching across the Imperial Highway, and the relative privacy and cool shade of the tent coupled with the rhythmic sensation of Allys’s fingers tracing against his skin has nearly lulled him to sleep. He slowly opens his eyes and turns his head, although Allys remains just out of view as she continues to lightly draw her fingertips over the designs that curl across his back.

“The tattoos?” he asks, and Allys nods.

“Is that what you call them?” Her fingers continue their journey, following the curves and lines of dark ink that wind between his shoulder blades, along his spine, down his hips.

Zevran gives her a half-shrug, gently so as not to disturb her inspection. “They are pretty. Must they have a meaning beyond that?” A grin creeps across his face. “And of course, they invite the attention of lovely wardens.”

Allys laughs and ends her study of Zevran’s tattoos to reposition herself so that she is once again lying next to him, her bright brown eyes level with his. Her hair has been released from its typical tight bun and now falls past her shoulders, framing her face in a halo of curls. Even after a day of trudging through the Fereldan dirt and mud, her smile is warm and genuine.

She laughs at his compliments, but Zevran isn’t joking in the slightest when he calls her lovely.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought they were a different type of vallaslin,” Allys says, resting her chin in her hand as her eyes roam over one of the tattoos on Zevran’s cheek. “I thought they might be meant for some god I didn’t recognize.”

“I suppose they still could be-is there a god for devilishly handsome features?”

Allys rolls her eyes. “I’m serious! Getting my vallaslin hurt like mad- I'm not sure I would have gone through with it if not for the gods. At the very least, I think it would've been much more difficult.”

“What can I say? We Antivans are willing to suffer for beauty.” Zevran flashes another smile, but it fades slightly as studies the vallaslin- the blood writing, they call it- across Allys’s face. He knows the lore behind the vallaslin; his time with the Dalish provided him the chance to learn, and even to hear some of the legends of the gods. But his time with the clan was short and his education quick and basic, so there is much he still does not know. “What of yours, then? What do they mean to you?”

With a smile, Allys takes Zevran’s hand in hers and gently brings it to her face so that his fingertips brush against the dark marks of her vallaslin. She guides his fingers across her face, tracing the lines of ink up her chin, across her cheekbones, over her brow. “These are for Andruil.”

“Ah, I remember her stories. She is the Huntress, yes? How very fitting.”

“I thought so, too,” Allys answers, pleased. She closes her eyes, leans into Zevran’s touch, and after a moment begins reciting something in elvhen. “Vir assan. Vir bor’assan. Vir adahlen.”

Zevran has no inkling what the words mean- he hadn’t stayed with the Dalish nearly long enough to learn any of the ancient language- but Allys’s voice, low and melodic, gives them a certain weight. It’s as if the meaning is right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite capture it.

Noticing his expression, Allys explains. “It’s the Way of the Hunt- Andruil’s code. I started learning that code from the time I was tall enough to fire a bow. I’ve spent so much of my life in the woods, learning the teachings of Andruil. When the time came to choose my vallaslin, it seemed appropriate to honor her.”

Zevran is silent for a moment, thinking back to his time with the Dalish. He’s learned the legends and the names of their gods, but the reverence with which the Dalish speak of their Pantheon…that isn’t something so easily taught. “Do you really believe in all those legends? They are good tales to tell, I give you that, but…”

Allys’s voice betrays no doubt when she answers. “I do.”

“Even in the midst of…” Zevran vaguely waves his hand, motioning to the entire world of calamity beyond the quiet sanctity of their tent. “…of all of this?”

“Even so.” Allys’s smile turns thoughtful, and her eyes go distant for a moment. “Maybe the gods themselves cannot step in and stop the Blight for us, but their presence is felt- by the Dalish, by me. It is because of Andruil and her lessons that I am alive today, that I have the skills to bring this destruction to an end.”

And there it is again- that sensation of being so close to something, but not managing to grasp it enough to even identify the feeling. In a way, it reminds Zevran of the Andrastians and their Maker. Something that just almost speaks to Zevran, but isn’t quite his.

Perhaps Zevran’s contemplation is showing on his face, for Allys gives him a searching look and asks, “What do you believe?”

Zevran quickly banishes his muddled thoughts and gives her a wry smile. “I am an assassin. The only things we believe in are steel and gold.”

Yes, steel and gold. Things that are solid and real, if somewhat less poetic than songs and prayer. It could be that in another life- one where the Crows weren’t constantly on his tail, one where he was able to settle somewhere for more than a few short weeks, perhaps even one where his mother never separated from her clan in the first place- he would have been able to take the time to study and prove himself and become part of the Dalish in truth, earning his own vallaslin. Perhaps in that life, he believes in a purpose for himself, believes that a god may look his way.

But that is not a life that belongs to him, nor one that he can truly imagine.

And yet Allys looks at him with a softness in her gaze. She leans closer and tenderly presses a kiss against his temple, at the start of his curving tattoo, then follows the mark down his cheekbone, planting more soft kisses along the way. Finally she moves to his lips, and whispers, “I don’t think that’s true. And I don’t think you do, either. You’re a better person that you give yourself credit for, and you don’t get that way through greed and violence. Maybe it’s not the gods, but you must believe in something greater than that.”

Zevran raises an eyebrow. “What makes you so certain?”

“Because I have faith in you.” Allys kisses his lips, softly, and then pulls back, the previous mischief returning to her expression. “And incidentally, that’s why I like your tattoos. Because whatever meaning they do or don’t have, they’re yours.”

Zevran does not know what to say. He wants to tell her she’s wrong, to try and make her see, but his throat is thick and the words won’t come. So he just kisses her again, deeper this time, and tries not to dwell too much on her words or the look in her eyes.

He thinks about it all later that night, of course. The thoughts simply won’t leave, and a part of him wishes he could go back to when things like this were easy. This should be easy. Just another mission, another conquest. But maybe…maybe Allys is not entirely wrong. Zevran is not a Crow any longer. In truth, he doesn’t know what he is. But when he thinks of the woman in his arms- the woman who not only spared his life, but showed him what his life could be worth- he realizes there is nowhere in this world he wouldn’t follow her.

It is terrifying, and exhilarating, and Zevran wonders if perhaps this is what having faith feels like.

[romana73]

REYLO FANFIC: YIN AND YAN. CHAPTER IV

WRITER: Romana73 TIME: One year after Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi THEME AND FANDOM: Star Wars RATING: Explicit TITLE: Yin and Yan CATEGORIES: M/F COUPLES: Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Rey CHARACTERS: Rey, Kylo Ren / Ben Solo, Anakin Skywalker (nominated), BB - 8, Knights of Ren, Chewbacca, Darth Vader (nominated), Finn, General Hux, Han Solo (nominated), Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, boys from Canto Bright, Snoke (nominated), various Resistance and First Order fighters WARNINGS: The characters, the world and the stories of Star Wars AREN’T MINE AND DON’T BELONG TO ME, but they are created and owned by George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Disney, J.J. Abrams and Rian Johnson and the actors who play the Star Wars characters and their stories. I’M NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THESE PEOPLE AND CINEMATOGRAPHIC HOUSES. I DON’T KNOW NO ONE OF THEM and I’M IN NO WAY IN CONTACT WITH THEM WARNINGS 2: violence, also at the language level. The starting idea of ​​this story derives from a leaks I read last year and which struck my imagination CHAPTER I can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189784450126/reylo-fanfiction-yin-e-yan CHAPTER II can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189959876431/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-part-2

CHAPTER III can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190301208881/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-3-part

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CHAPTER IV

- Why do you think I let myself be captured? - Kylo asked casually.

Standing in front of Rey, Kylo folded his lips in a fleeting amused smile. Rey stared at him, raising an eyebrow. -Oh well, maybe I just wanted to meet you in person ... to see you and touch you live ... I was tired of remote connections - he continued in a light tone. Rey darkened, glaring at him with a glance. Excruciating pain in head he had caused her with his constant attempts to force their connection was still alive. Kylo seemed to read her mind. He frowned, taking on a stern expression. -I warned you not to resist when things like that happen. You could have died! - He finished, thundering. Rey was startled in spite of herself, hearing his voice rumbling in room almost to shake walls. She looked around to see if boy's tone had attracted anyone, but nobody appeared. Rey turned against him, like a tiger whose foot was trodden. -You used me, betrayed me, tried to manipulate me, why on earth would I have to reopen the connection? I repeat what I said to you under torture: I won’t give you anything! - Rey growled at him. Kylo blinked in surprise, opening his mouth in amazement. His surprise lasted a blink, then his face hardened. Kylo took a slow step towards Rey. She held her breath, stiffening, but refused to let emotion leak. -I don't remember doing anything like that. I thought you were going to be on my side. You were trusting me, we were on same wavelength, instead you abandoned me! You turned against me, you attacked me like a coward! - He growled, trying to dominate her. - I turned against you? - Rey repeated, hissing and clenching her eyes and fists

- I'm not your dog!- She snapped indignantly. -I'm not even a murderess! You demanded I turn away while you massacred innocent people, my friends and even your mother! - Rey looked him in eyes, challenging him. Kylo swallowed heavily, without breaking eyes contact. - Now you're even killing children ... you suck me! - She screamed. He turned his face to one side, as if Rey had slapped him. Supreme Leader stared back at her, folding his mouth in a bitter smile. -Once again you think you know everything ... I thought I taught you to investigate thoroughly before sentencing ... - -It’s Knights of Ren who carry out murders and, if I'm not mistaken, they only obey you ... - Rey replied in a biting tone. -Um, yes ... well, let's talk later, do you want? Now we have to go - Kylo said absently, looking quickly at a black leather strap that he wore on his right wrist and Rey noticed only at that moment. She frowned. He had a bad feeling about that strange bracelet. -You are so impulsive ... you think always later ... - Kylo observed.

Rey took a step back, as the feeling of danger grew stronger. Bringing a hand behind her back, the young woman slowly drew her lightsaber, lighting it, while keeping her eyes fixed on him. Kylo absently looked at weapon Rey held in her hand. Supreme Leader smiled, taking on an air between bored and benevolent. Suddenly, handcuffs around Kylo's wrists fell to his feet, with a dull thud that made a shiver run down Rey's spine. She felt freezing, looking at Kylo's free hands. Moving fast, he kicked cuffs away from him and Rey, then, he grabbed her wrist. Rey felt as if he was squeezing her wrist and instinctively dropped lightsaber. Kylo picked up weapon, tucking it into his belt, while spinning Rey on himself, imprisoning her with one arm. Rey tried to free himself in any way. - Ah! - She screamed, feeling a pain in her arm. Kylo's grip felt like steel. -You're hurting yourself. You can't even use Force here - he advised her quietly as he looked around. Rey saw him raise one hand and draw handcuffs to him. Her eyes widened, she sensed his intentions and started fighting again. Kylo didn’t loosen his grip. Following her body movements, Supreme Leader surrounded Rey with other arm, hardly managing to block her wrists in anti-Force handcuffs. -You didn't thought I was present while Luke was building this cell. I know his tricks and, then, I can get by even without Force - Kylo whispered in Rey's ear, smiling and blocking her against him. She could feel her back press against Supreme Leader's wide chest, but she refused to linger on that fact.

-I can do better without Force, because I have lived longer than you, without even knowing I have it! - Rey replied firmly. Kylo grimaced, shrugging. -True ... - he murmured absently.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion caused wall behind them to collapse. Rey jumped, closing her eyes, while Kylo turned his face, quietly contemplating collapsed wall, while a broad and rudimentary opening was formed in its place. Sweating coldly, Rey watched a handful of Stormtroopers rush in and go up prison stairs, while a man dressed in black, wearing a helmet made from a blast furnace plate stopped beside Kylo Ren. Shivering, with a grimace of disgust, Rey noticed newcomer was carrying a huge cannon on his arm, modified almost beyond belief and concussion grenades on his chest. -Cardo - Kylo addressed him, with a dark and serious expression. - On time - - Thanks, Ren. I only carried out your orders - other replied dryly. Rey sensed change in Kylo Ren. From moment wall had collapsed, Kylo seemed to have raised another, impenetrable, wall inside him, but she had no time to think about it. Gunshots, screams and excited voices ripped Rey from his thoughts. Battle raged on floor above them. Rey's mind worked fast. Two men had talked about orders and schedules, but for two days, Kylo had been their prisoner, how he... memory of strange bracelet she had noticed on boy's wrist came back to Rey's mind. A transmitter, that's what it was, how stupid! Rey closed her eyes, blaming herself. “It isn’t your fault. I remind you, for a while, you have been out of game... " Kylo's voice reached her head loud and clear, as if he had spoken, instead he was communicating telepathically. - Did you find what you were looking for? - Cardo asked Kylo Ren - In part- he replied, nodding towards Rey. -I think it will be longer than expected. Call soldiers back, I don't want to ... - - REYYY! REY! - Finn's anxious voice interrupted Kylo’s words. The trio turned their eyes to access stairs. Rey held her breath. With wide eyes, she watched Finn fly down stairs, turning to shoot two Stormtroopers on his heels, before looking at Rey. The boy looked in pure horror at his handcuffed friend, held locked by an arm of Supreme Leader. -Leave her alone!- Finn screamed, frowning, his flashing black pupils, pointing blaster he held in his hand towards Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader remained in hush, staring calmly at ex former Stromtrooper. -Call the men. Let's go - Kylo ordered, turning his head towards Cardo.

He brought a transmitter in front of his mouth, ordering handful of soldiers to return. Kylo turned his back on Finn, starting to move towards breach in wall Cardo had previously opened, dragging Rey with him. She stumbled over her feet, but just holding her tight, Kylo prevented her from falling. -Stop! - Finn yelled again, arming his blaster - Finn! Rey! - Poe's voice came to Rey's ear.

The pilot stopped beside his friend, also drawing his weapon and pointing it at Kylo's back. Young target sighed, continuing to walk. Behind them rhythmic footsteps of the returning Stormtroopers were heard. Soldiers passed Kylo, ​​Rey and Cardo, pouring into hole in the wall. - Teacher! Teacher! - Two infant voices joined those of Finn and Poe. Rey stopped instantly. Struggling to free herself, she managed to turn to the children. -Milo, Cleena! Get out of here! Be safe! - Rey yelled, agitated.

Without letting go her, Kylo saw two children staring at him. One was small, blond, with blue eyes open and curious. Kylo narrowed his mouth feeling a big Force power, but also serenity and calm emanated from boy. He was struck by girl eyes, whom Rey had called Cleena. Force also flowed powerful in her. Biting her lower lip, girl stared at him from bottom up, with a dangerous light in her dark brown eyes. Curly and long hair of a reddish brown fell on her shoulders like a fiery mane. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, but she seemed already pervaded by a deep anger. A fury Supreme Leader recognized had only one goal. Him.

Cardo raised his cannon arm, aiming it at group in front of them. - If you want, I'll sweep them away ... - he said, turning to Kylo. -Yuo damn killer! - Rey roared, fighting against Kylo's grip in an attempt to assault Cardo. Taken by surprise, Ren's Knight stepped back, whistling with admiration towards Rey. - You captured a proud tiger ...- he observed, watching Kylo struggle to keep hold of Rey. -Rey! Get away from him! - Finn yelled, trying to aim. He gave up nervously. Kylo Ren didn’t loosen his grip on Rey, making it impossible to shoot him without hitting her. Suddenly, an idea hit Finn's mind. Rey had once explained to him Jedi healed wounds. Dark Side adepts lost, however, this ability when they succumbed to evil. So maybe ... he could hit Kylo by hurting Rey? Leia was sure to help cure her and he was a great shooter. He could hit her without causing her serious harm. Kylo turned to him, as if he had read his mind. -Really? Would you have courage to do it? I’m amazed at you, FN-2187. Do you hate me so much? - Kylo forced Rey to straighten up and, holding her against him, with his hands under his chin, placed himself with her in front of Finn, challenging him with his eyes and a malicious smile. -Come on, shoot! I'll stop your bullet before it hits us and I'll turn it against you! - Kylo urged him. Rey shook her head. -Finn, no. Please. You would die unnecessarily ... - Rey murmured, as a tear ran down her face. Finn looked his friend in eyes, while Milo, Cleena and Poe stared at him waiting for a sign would reveal their friend's intentions, causing them to act accordingly. Kylo chuckled bitterly. -You don't know what he was going to do to you ... - he whispered in Rey's ear. - Bastard! You know very well that I ... I ... - Finn growled, still pointing the blaster at Kylo. -Stop! - A sweet but firm voice shook everyone in the room, as if waking them from a dream, dissipating tension in room. Cardo also seemed impressed. His arm also lowered, without him noticing. Leia appeared in room, as the sunniest of apparitions. Rey sensed a change in Kylo. Young man swallowed empty. -Let go Rey- Leia ordered, putting her hands on Cleena's shoulders and staring her son in eyes, with a resolute expression. -You lost, General Organa. Accept defeat and my magnanimous gesture - Kylo replied becoming, if possible, even darker. -I'll let you live- he added, looking away from woman in spite of himself.

Rey watched scene silently, sweating cold, confused. At that moment, Kylo looked like a boiling volcano. That was first time mother and son met after he killed Han Solo. Rey felt like she was skewered by a thousand daggers. One more cruel and painful than other, but emotion didn’t belong to her, but to Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader seemed to be pierced by a thousand lightsabers and each hit a deep wound. Rey staggered. -Enough! - She heard herself say, as if her voice didn't belong to her. Everyone stopped, staring at her. Rey turned his head, looking up at Kylo. -Let them go and I'll come with you - Rey proposed slowly. -No, Rey! - Finn and Poe snapped in unison -Rey ... no need ... - Leia's voice and expression softened. Kylo shrugged. -Unlike what you think, I don't like blackmailing people and I don't like being made fun of ... - Kylo replied, staring in Rey’s eyes. -I'm not setting you a trap - Rey defended herself. - Okay, then... - Kylo let go of Rey.

She wobbled in surprise at act. Supreme Leader moved a hand and Rey's wrists were free of anti-Force handcuffs. -Please, let's go - Kylo moved a hand, indicating to walk in front of him. Rey felt her eyes fill with tears as she contemplated her friends for last time. -Leia ... - she whispered, bringing a hand to her chest. Woman smiled, nodding. General Organa's eyes moved to his son's face, studying him openly. Kylo returned, watching her sideways, then he bent to pick up handcuffs, while Rey passed in front of him. Kylo put a hand on girl's back, guiding her to exit. -Teacher! - Cleena shouted, moving to chase Rey.

A small, chubby hand closed around the girl's wrist, holding her back. Cleena turned around, surprised to find was Milo who blocked her. Boy looked at his friend with a smile, then turned to Leia and nodded.

———————————————————————————————————–

Rey felt empty and disoriented as she walked with her back straight and her chin up in front of Kylo, ​​wiping away every minute tears burned her eyes. Ever since they left Resistance base, young Supreme Leader hadn't spoken, standing behind her, still holding one hand on her back. Nodding, Kylo had ordered Cardo to walk in front of Rey, closing off any escape routes for her. But Rey didn’t  want to escape. They had been walking in forest for two hours and, although trained, Rey was exhausted. Multitude of emotions felt that day had exhausted her. From moment they captured Kylo, ​​she had suspected something strange, but would never have thought of ending up in trap. The line stopped. Rey saw soldiers pass them and run forward. Cardo turned to Kylo. - The Finalizer isn’t far away, with your permission Ren, I would go and prepare everything for departure ... - he announced. Kylo nodded. Cardo moved away and Rey was alone with Kylo. - If you believe I will submit to you, then you have not understood anything ... - without turning around, Rey warned Kylo with his teeth gritted. A disturbance in Force drew both attention. Rey didn't have time to focus. Coming from behind, Kylo locked her wrists again with anti-Force handcuffs, also harnessing her perception. Ignoring her bad looks and grimaces of annoyance, he lifted Rey in his arms, following last stretch separated them from his ship on foot. Not far away, two powerful shadows followed them.

[justimajin]

4,8,12,27– mafia ah female OC x jungkook

Pull the Trigger 

prompts: 

4. “God, your eyes are so gorgeous.”

8. “Don’t you dare give me those sex eyes right now! This is a serious situation, here!”

12. “God, I’m so glad you’re alright.”

27. “C’mon–I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to, that is.”

warnings: blood & violence 

You land on the ground with a hard thud, buckling your knees down for impact as your eyes scan the dark premises with sharp eyes. 

It’s quiet. 

Too quiet. 

Standing up straight, you take out the controller from the sole of your boot and tap the side of your ear, “I’m in.” 

There’s a faint, static buzzing sound coming through the hearing device, but then the mix of broken words the voice on the other end forms finally comes through, “The location is on your tracker. You have an hour.” 

The voice instantly cuts off and you glance back at the controller, carefully watching the green dotted lines animate into a map and the giant ‘x’ marking your prize. 

You smirk, placing the controller into your back pocket before gliding the pads of your shoes against the cemented floor. Aside from the faint echo of water drops drizzling down in the grey ceiling of the tunnel, the silence only seems to grow by every passing minute you wait. 

You are close to the end, only mere inches away when you hear it. 

A loud bang on your right that reflexes your hand to land on the side of your hip, where your gun lays hiddenly mounted. You morph into a statue, remaining in that position when nothing else accompanies the sound and the reminiscing water drops continue. 

Slowly rising from your position while keeping your eyes everywhere, you deduce the tunnel is empty. 

Suddenly a hand reaches out, presses its palm into the bottom of your mouth to stifle your cries. You instantly reach for the hilt of your gun, pulling it out in a flash and jabbing its end into the abdomen of the body behind you. 

You place a finger on the trigger. 

“Now, now sweetheart, we don’t want to get caught do we?” 

Your eyes immediately widen and with a huff, you jab your elbow into the person’s stomach and then twist around, grabbing your gun to point it straight at them. “Stop playing games with me.” You hiss, a seething glare striking right through him. 

“C’mon–I don’t bite.” He smiles, “Not unless you want me to, that is.”

Your expression falls for a second and he chuckles at the sight of it. You direct a scowl at him, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Jeon. Now get out of my way.”

“That depends.” His eyes lock onto you, coldness spreading through them, “On what you intend to do here.” 

You look away and the silence draws out between you, “You do know you can’t do this alone, right?” 

You glance up at him to retort and suddenly his range is targeting you, catching you completely off guard when he fires a bullet. 

It whizzes right past your ear. 

A loud cry is heard behind you and Jungkook smiles, blowing the end of his gun. “You still don’t flinch. Impressive.” 

You don’t say anything to him, simply reload your gun with a click and turn towards the fallen corpse of the man - who you recognize as the weapons trader. There’s blood oozing out from the perfect shot on the center of his forehead and his eyes are blown out, but you step over him like he was a piece of dust. 

“Are you coming or what Jeon?” 

Jungkook glances over to you, a wide grin surfacing on his lips. 

***

Your feet are almost soundproof, stealthy sliding against the floor effortlessly when you immediately merge with the wall behind you as a member comes into view. Jungkook is right on your tail; merging onto the other side and glancing at you with an indecipherable gaze. 

The water drops are mixed in with the loud footsteps of the man, who occasionally turns as he mumbles into his receiver. “….the shipment should be today, five pounds a piece and we’ll be drowning in money soon…” 

The conversation goes on and both of you simply wait for the right moment. For the right trigger to pull everything into action, “…the boss hasn’t confirmed yet but the operation has to be done tomorrow. It’s either all or nothing now.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to yours and you nod, raising your gun for the man’s head. 

You open fire. 

It’s a quick flash, not even a single blink being enough to capture enough as you fire the man’s head and bend down for him to fall onto you. Jungkook punches out his arm and grabs the phone before it can hit the floor, pressing it to his ear and subtly controlling his breathing as if someone was still on the other end. 

The three magical words are said and Jungkook smiles, before ending the call with a hum. 

You silently drag the man’s corpse near the wall, setting him down in the dark and then ditching him when Jungkook grabs a hold of your wrist. 

He carefully mouths the words and your eyes flash for a second until you’re simply nodding in return. 

***

The door opens and closes, trusted guards circling around the room and keeping every inch of the interior sealed away from wandering eyes. Jungkook glances over at you with confirmation and you nod, raising your gun at chest level when he dials a familiar number. He mumbles a string of authoritative words and soon the door opens, letting the guards walk straight in. 

You move fast, sliding in and raising your knee to crash one of their heads against it. Jungkook quickly closes the door, throwing his arm at another one of them and holding him into a chokehold before gritting his gun into the side of his head and allowing it to do the talking. 

The two lifeless men fall onto the ground with a slump and both of you smile in triumph.

“The storage room.” 

You only begin to look around the room, eyes roaming around in search of the glorious piles of illegal merch until your wide eyes swing over to Jungkook. 

You’re too late with taking your gun out, because its kicked out of your hands and Jungkook’s arms are pinned behind his back. The tall man behind him smiles in victory even as Jungkook attempts to twist and turn away, but you deliver a hard kick to his legs before hooking your foot behind one of them and pulling back. 

The man and Jungkook fall down with a thud, causing Jungkook to grab your fallen gun in haste but the man beats him to it. He aims it straight for you, however you’re pushed out of the way. 

The gun fires. 

Jungkook kneels down and you instantly run over to him, letting the man escape who then shuts the door. Blood trickles down the side of his arm, but he pays no mind to it and envelopes you in his arms, “God, I’m so glad you’re alright.”

The words are taken out of your mouth when he latches onto you and you attempt to blink away the tears before bringing your arms around him too. You rip off a strand of your shirt and wrap it around his wounded arm, applying pressure down onto it. “Does it hurt?” You silently question, watching him faintly chuckle. 

“I’ve been shot multiple times Y/N. This is nothing.” He wraps a bloody hand around his shoulder and stands up, before his gaze locks onto the door. “Y/N…” 

You move your eyes to where he was looking at and suddenly you bolt up, placing a hand against the large steel door. The door’s lock has been completely busted, sealing itself tightly. 

“We’ve been locked in.” Jungkook says in confirmation when all you can do is stare at the sealed door. 

You pound a fist against it, “Dammit.”

Jungkook sighs and then slumps down onto the ground, stretching out his legs, “We need a new plan.” 

“The storage room was supposed to lead us to him.” You shake your head, sitting down on the cold ground, “And now we can’t get out.” 

Looking around, the entire room is filled with loads and loads of drug merchandise in an icy cool temperature. There’s sealing all over the metal walls and the main door, no cracks or nooks for you to fight your way through. 

In other words, there’s nothing you can do. 

“I guess it’s not so bad though? You’re stuck with me after all.” Jungkook smirks at you and you’re suddenly contemplating which merchandise around you could possibly do the most damage. 

“I’ve been stuck with you enough.” You mumble underneath your breath and Jungkook frowns. 

“Enough?” Jungkook heavily laughs, his brows contorted when he gazes down at the ground, “Is that what you call leaving me?” 

“I didn-” 

“You left. Without telling me anything. Do you know how long it took me to even find you?” He glances up at the metal walls, harshly breathing, “And this, this was the place I had to find you in.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jungkook stares at you silently, watching you shuffle around in your spot.“I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I didn’t think you would come after me but I’m glad that you did.”  

You sigh, glancing back at the door, “But now we need to just get out of here. If we can figure out how the lock was broken, maybe we cou-” You freeze, locking gazes with Jungkook suddenly. The look is his eyes is so instantaneously familiar to you and you know it’s decided to pop up in one of the worst circumstances. “Jungkook!” 

He blinks, dark gaze fainting but a tinge of it still leftover. “What?” 

“Don’t you dare give me those sex eyes right now! This is a serious situation here!”

“Are you really blaming me for this after that apology of yours?” He gestures towards his eyes and he smirks when he sees you huff at him. He slides closer to you, letting go of his arm and touching your cheek with his uninjured one, “We are alone in here.” 

Jungkook is as easily readable as the back of your hand; he has his own ways with how he does things and it isn’t difficult to pinpoint when his lovely characteristics decide to come out. That being said, you already know this is a trap - that you’re setting one foot into a spring that is ready to be unleashed at any time and you only need to pull the trigger. 

You want to resist it, look away from that trigger, but all you find yourself doing is staring into Jungkook’s lips until they crash land right onto yours. They’re flush soft, just how you used to remember it, and the familiarity only spreads a warm glow over you. It overpowers all your senses and you tug him closer, letting him wraps his arms around you. 

He parts from you, caressing the side of your face with his fingertips, “God, your eyes are so gorgeous.”

Something flashes across your eyes, drawing you in deeper than you would like as Jungkook has a tender smile on his lips. For a moment, your heartbeat speeds up, furiously pounding inside your chest like you were going to burst. It’s so similar to someone having you at gunpoint, the border of life and death being in the hands of the wielder and the only thing you can do is wait for the outcome. 

It clicks in and you shut down. 

You’ve just pulled the wrong trigger. 

[everybodysacritic]

Film Review: The Dark Knight

My rating: 8/10

The Dark Knight (2008)  is the second film in Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy. It is a film following DC superhero Batman, and his struggle with stopping a notorious criminal called the Joker.

The film starts with a heist. An action-filled burglary with some masked men takes place at a bank in Gotham city. The Joker is revealed to be one of these men just before killing the rest of them, taking all of the money for himself in a getaway car. When the Joker’s car reaches a parking lot ‘Batman’ appears, getting hit by the criminals. Several men posing as Batman are easily defeated by them before the real Batman arrives in his famous Bat-mobile. The hero tells them off in a low (slightly ridiculous) voice, then disappears.

Bruce Wayne, Batman’s true identity, is a character shrouded in wealth. The only people who know about his double life are his butler Alfred, his Business manager Lucius Fox, and his ex-girlfriend Rachel. Politician Harvey Dent praises Batman and the work he does for Gotham city, and although he is dating Rachel he does not know of Batman’s true identity.

“If you’re good at something never do it for free.” - Joker (Heath Ledger)

A group of criminals led by a man named Mr. Lao make fun of the Joker while in a meeting. The Joker makes an entrance by walking in on there meeting while laughing maniacally. The Joker wants them to hire him to kill Batman, knowing that they are all too afraid to try. The criminals are skeptical of Joker’s ability to kill Batman, so he tells them to think about it and leaves.

“Why so serious?” - Joker (Heath Ledger) 

The next time he is seen, the Joker is sneaking in to where the group of criminals have camped out. The Joker tells the criminals about how his face was scarred by his abusive father when he was a kid, carving a smile into his face with a knife because he was being too serious. Being much more aggressive than last time, he kills a couple of them and threatens the rest.

Batman plans to stop the Joker from continuing his crimes. He starts by getting the tools that he needs from his business manager, Lucius Fox. Bruce is then able to find crime lord Mr. Lao, and stop him. Batman flies in, takes Mr. Lao, and drops him off at the police station to be arrested.

“You want order in Gotham? Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in. Oh, and every day he doesn't, people will die. Starting tonight. I'm a man of my word.”  - Joker (Heath Ledger)

Soon after, the Joker kills a batman impersonator and hangs him from a building. The Joker broadcasts a video across Gotham saying that for every night that Batman does not unmask himself and turn himself in, he will kill an innocent person.

"Some men just want to watch the world burn" - Alfred (Michael Caine)

Bruce does not give in, but soon faces the consequences when the Joker kills the mayor of Gotham. Batman struggles with what he should do. The Joker doesn’t seem to be motivated by anything but wanting to cause chaos, and he never seems to be able to find him until the Joker has already killed a person.

"The night is darkest before the dawn. The dawn is coming." - Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart)

Bruce contemplates turning himself in, but Alfred and Rachel implore him not to. Despite going against their wishes, Bruce decides to turn himself in, but not before telling Harvey. Due to Harvey’s unwavering faith in the Batman, he tries to turn himself in as Batman so that Batman can continue doing good for the city.

"To them you're just a freak like me. They need you now, but when they don't they'll cast you out." - Joker (Heath Ledger)

The Joker’s people kidnap Harvey and Rachel. Meanwhile, the Joker is caught in the process of fighting Batman as his plan unfolds. The Joker is taken into an interrogation room where Batman tries to get information from him about where Rachel and Harvey have been taken. Even using violence does not get the Joker to tell them, only using the opportunity to taunt Batman.

"In their last moments people show you who they really are." - Joker (Heath Ledger)

They end up figuring out that Rachel and Harvey have been taken to separate building with bombs about to go off. They try to get there as fast as they can, but Rachel killed, and half of Harvey’s face is burned off.

"Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair! " - Joker (Heath Ledger)

The Joker’s next move is to blow up a hospital. Harvey makes a deal with the Joker when he’s in the hospital to get out before he does it. The Joker persuades Harvey into changing his view on morality, and to direct his anger at the police instead of him. The whole incident changes Harvey into a very different person. The Joker blows up the hospital, and Harvey escapes.

Another creepy video is released telling the citizens of Gotham to leave if they do not want to be part of his game. Many of the citizens try to leave Gotham city on boat. Meanwhile, Batman decides to bug everyone's phone to try to find the Joker.

For what he calls a ‘social experiment’, the Joker then hijacks two of the large boats leaving Gotham. He gives each boat a detonator. On one boat there are prisoners, while the other has regular citizens. Both detonators will blow up at midnight if they do not do anything.

"I took Gotham's white knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn't hard. You see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push!”  - Joker (Heath Ledger)

Batman finds the Joker as he is waiting to see what will happen with his ‘social experiment’. They end up fighting as the people on the boats argue about what to do. Eventually midnight strikes, and both boats have not detonated the other, revealing that they were never going to blow up at midnight in the first place. The Joker then reveals to Batman the plan that he has set in motion: to crush the spirits of Gotham by causing Harvey to join his side. Batman leaves as the Joker is taken into custody.

“You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time, but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair.” - Joker (Heath Ledger)

Harvey, who has renamed himself ‘Two-Face’, now blames the police for what happened to him and Rachel. After killing several other officers, he kidnaps officer Gordon's family and lures him to an abandoned parking lot. He flips a coin to determine whether each of them live or die, and it does not end well for the son. Harvey is about to shoot Gordon’s kid in order to get his revenge, but is interrupted by the arrival of Batman.

"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become a villain." - Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart)

Batman tries to reason with Gordon, telling him that the Joker was just using him to prove that a man as good as him could fall. Gordon will not listen to him, and so Batman kills him. 

"He's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero, he’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector. He’s a dark knight." - Gordon (Gary Oldman)

Finally, Batman decides that him and Gordon have to lie and say that Batman is the one who killed the people that Harvey did. It is the only way that the citizens of Gotham do not lose hope. Gordon agrees, and the film ends.

The Dark Night is an impressive movie with a depressing message about corruption and morality. Heath Ledger's acting is amazing in his role as the Joker, as he is able to play a terrifying villain while also being comedic. The movie is shot mostly in dark lighting, further pushing the overall mood. The makeup and costumes add to the acting (eg. the Jokers messy makeup and bright red smile make him look terrifying). All of the sound effects and special effects are very well done. Overall, the Dark Knight is an impressive film.

[tiaragqueen]

Apple Of His Eye

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Jeon Jeongguk x Noona! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,1k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Stalking, obsessiveness, possessiveness, slight violence

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don't believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

"I've never loved, I've never loved. Never loved someone like this. All I know is... I was sent here for you." - Made To Love [John Legend]

       It was a well-known fact that Jungkook liked a noona.

     It wasn’t that hard to notice, to be honest. The number of crushes he’d developed for older girls since middle school was abundant. Then again, he was a teenager with fluctuating hormone levels. Therefore, it was only natural that he would like someone during this transient period. In fact, some of his friends had urged him to date a few.

     “You have a nice body,” he recalled Taehyung said on one sunny day. “And a lot of girls already like you anyway. It doesn’t hurt to accept one of them, right?”

     “Yeah!” Jimin chirped, his beady eyes formed the familiar crescents that had captivated boys and girls alike. Yet, despite his seemingly innocent face, Jungkook was able to discern a glint of mischief in those dark irises. “Or, you know, all of them. The more the merrier, right?”

     His suggestion was utterly ridiculous for so many reasons. One, Jungkook was shy. Sure, he wasn’t as nervous to talk to the opposite sex as he used, but still. Your personality isn’t something that can be changed – or at the very least, altered – easily.

     Second, he was uncomfortable with the amount of unnecessary attention being placed upon his muscular body. There were times when Jungkook wondered if there was anyone who liked him for who he is, not just his appearance. Maybe there was, but hidden under shallow admirers. He didn't bother to dig further.

     Third, Jungkook didn’t know if he could even hold a relationship with many girls at once. It was exhausting to even imagine. Not to mention, Jungkook didn’t know much about dating in the first place. A lot of people somehow mistook him for a playboy due to his – yet again – body. He even gained the title of ‘international playboy’ during high school. His friends had snickered that time, fully aware of his innocence and inexperience.

     Lastly, despite the number of crushes he had had in the past, Jungkook possessed a high expectation for his partner.

     Again, he justified, it was only natural to have an ideal type.

     Nearly all of his friends had one anyway. Taehyung liked someone who takes care of him and loves only him, Jimin liked a nice and cute girl who is smaller than him (Jungkook knew it wasn't really the truth, as Jimin was ‘dating’ a girl opposite of him until she disappeared one day), etc.

     Many times he had been called Oppa by females, especially older ones. Jungkook had insisted them stop calling him that because for some reason, he felt oddly pressured with that nickname. It described an older guy who is more knowledgeable and organized; that is excelled in so many things.

     And Jungkook was none of that.

     He was still that boy who played video games until late at night and procrastinated his homework. Still that boy whose body language just screamed awkwardness and bashfulness overall. Still that boy whose mind tended to be stuck between flight and fight whenever a girl touches him a bit too affectionately.

     That’s why he preferred someone mature. Someone that knew when to be serious and when to be playful. Someone capable. Someone older.

     But he hadn’t expected to meet that destined one so soon.

     Destined for him, because nothing else matters when you’re in love. Not even stalking.

     Jungkook clutched a silver barrette under the table - it had become some sort of a lucky charm for him - occasionally admiring your concentrated face just enough not to be seen as a creep. You were sitting just a few tables away from him, working on some class projects. You were wholly focused on studying like you often did, ignorant to your little stalker that had occupied himself in the corner of the café. Jungkook knew what he did was immoral, but is it really wrong to want to protect someone that you love?

     This world was a dangerous place, he knew that much. Just a week ago, a man had harassed you during your evening stroll - something that he learned you often did whenever you were stressed about life. It was purely incidental that Jungkook was in the same area as you, and managed to save you after throwing a punch or two to that bastard. He could’ve killed him right here and there – it was the first time Jungkook had ever felt furious and that honestly scared him quite a bit – but he reminded himself that you were still within vicinity. He couldn’t let you witness such violence from him, especially when you considered him as a 'cute and shy junior'.

     It wasn't what he wanted you to think about him, but at least it was better than being called a murderer.

     Still, the idea of that fucker so much as touching you remained a nuisance for him.

     After bowing over and over again to express your deep gratitude and cracked a joke regarding his strength - to which he responded with a chuckle even though it wasn't necessarily funny in the first place - you had accidentally left your barrette on the ground. Jungkook was planning to return it to you at the campus, but after some contemplation, he'd opted to seize the opportunity instead. He didn't even know how much he needed it until he had it in his grasp.

     As a little thank you gift, Jungkook reassured his conscience that nagged him for taking something that wasn't his to have.

     From that day onwards, he'd made a promise that everything you left would be his. It could be a pencil or a fucking button for all he cared. He also noticed that it was the same barrette that you wore on campus too, and Jungkook couldn't be a happier man.

     An odd feeling of satisfaction had bloomed in his chest for being able to keep such an important - and personal - piece. Guilt couldn’t put a damper on his elevated mood upon receiving his very first ‘present’ from you, without your knowledge. This was infinitely better than those silly Christmas gifts.

     Jungkook admitted that stalking alone wasn’t enough for him – it could never be, as Jungkook was a man of experience – but he knew that it was the best thing he could do for now. You thought so highly of him ever since that not-so-unfortunate incident, and Jungkook planned on keeping that cute and shy junior facade until he could muster up enough courage to approach you.

     There was no need to rush. Forever is a long time, after all. Besides, it’s not like you could get away from him. Not even your little plan on going abroad after graduation could separate the two of you.

[tyrantasaur]

g i l d e d ◇ s p i r i t s

When Pritchard had notified him that the former maid had called and scheduled a meeting with him, Wesley knew he had to plan his move carefully. He had, after all, drawn her here with false pretenses and it was entirely possible that she had enough of the stubborn mortal in her to have convinced herself it wasn’t real. Sticky situation, and had to be handled carefully. He went to bed early the night before, but was awakened in the early hours by his own metaphorical ghosts. The wee hours had been spent listlessly wandering the halls, trying to exhaust his body to overwhelm his mind into sleep. Lately that hadn’t been much of an escape, either. The recent case he’d had alongside the satyr one had involved the family of a soldier who had died in the trenches, and it was amplifying the existing pain for all.

One of the worst things a ghost could experience was the cyclical reliving of the moments leading up to their death. The anguish of a violent end could become imprinted on an object, and it became a nasty cursed object, sometimes merely bringing others into the experience, sometimes enacting that violence upon them in the physical world. This had not gotten to that point, but it was sitting upstairs in his workroom. Wesley could feel it like a monotonous ringing in his ears, and the sooner he was able to cleanse it the sooner he could force the door closed in his mind.

His ablutions completed and breakfast heartily consumed, Wesley headed to the library with a heavy step. Glances in the mirrors in the halls informed Wesley that he looked very much like he had been up late drinking, and he dragged a hand down his mouth and lightly smacked his cheeks as though to snap himself out of it.

The great library was not entirely to his taste; most of the mansion was not quite his taste. Unfortunately it had very much been in his grandfather’s taste, and the library had not been a place his mother had wanted to alter. The fireplace was outrageously ornate, but the furniture was comfortable for the most part. It was two floors, with a balcony filled with more books. There was a second, smaller library nearer his bedroom, but it was filled with more personal favorites than educational resources. Wesley had several books open on the table. His tall figure disposed on a leather plush chair, he blended in well; with his cream collared shirt, cranberry tie, brown shaker shawl sweater, and tan trousers, Wesley cut the figure of a perfect country gentleman.

“Sir,” Pritchard’s voice suddenly broke the silence. Wesley jumped, despite being very accustomed to the unnaturally silent way his butler moved about. “The Young Person is here. I have left her in the yellow drawing room. I thought it...most appropriate. Shall I order tea, sir?” His voice dripping with disdain, he bowed and waited for Wesley’s reply.

Shutting the book in his hand with a snap, Wesley jumped up from the chair and danced his fingers along the open faces of the books until he landed on a specific one. “Very good, Pritchard, and yes. Do.”

He felt the buzzing of Pritchard’s aura lessen as the man left to tell the cook but did not look up, searching for a sheaf of paper. Slipping a single sheet between the pages, Wesley closed the book and sighed wearily. He wasn’t socially inept, but necromantic mages knew well that dealing with the dead was never actually easier than dealing with the living, but the consequences were different. He wasn’t exactly nervous to talk to the former maid, but he was nervous about the possible outcomes of said conversation.

There had been no doubt as to where Pritchard would install this Miss Adams; the yellow drawing room was the traditional choice. An eastern facing room, itt opened up to the balconies overlooking the back gardens, providing a refreshing prospect to guests. It was also more modern in its design, as it was typically used for outsider guests. The typical denizens of the house were not allowed in that room.

“Damnation!” the thought had Wesley swearing under his breath as he remembered that he had forgotten to corral them all into the west wing of the house. He set off at a brisk pace to clear out anyone spying on the newcomer.

--

“Forgive my casual state,” Wesley spoke as he entered the drawing room, a distracted grin on his face and a book under one arm. He cast an evaluative glance at her outfit and did not bother to offer any more by way of explanation. “Wesley Atherton,” he held out a hand as he placed the book on the little table and gestured to the chair closest to her. “Please, Miss Adams. I’m glad you called,” he said as he sat down and crossed his legs. 

Pulling out a silver engraved cigarette case, he held it out to her. He’d had to hastily disperse a number of ghosts that had been encroaching on the drawing room. They were drawn to the life force but also the novelty of a new person. He wondered how much of their presence his guest had felt.

"Lillian Adams. It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied. He produced a delicate silver lighter and graciously lit her cigarette before performing the ritual for himself. They both took a drag of their cigarettes; he slowly let the smoke drip out between his lips as he took the opportunity to size her up. His party persona was not entirely a front, but it had its time and place. Typically he did not like to play Lord with those who were a lower social class, but the dissipated socialite persona had value.

"Miss Adams. Pleasure," he drawled. "We have never formally met, of course, but surely you know I am a regular at the Montgomery's. Doing the social circle, what." He smiled, not unkindly, watching her from lazily-lidded eyes to gauge her reaction. She remained composed, although he was sure she couldn’t possibly be feeling at ease. Wesley had never made much of a study of human behavior, as he worked so much more with the dead than the living, but he at least had some common sense.

She confirmed that she knew him, which he didn’t question. A real test of her character would be in bringing up what she surely knew he would: the Incident. Without any sugar coating, he took another drag and dove in. "Now, I'm sure your friend mentioned why I gave my card. My aunt is rather...particular. What duties had you in the Montgomery household?"

All of the duties she listed would certainly have enabled her to cultivate a number of skills that could be valuable for other applications. Wesley nodded as she listed off the typical responsibilities of a lady's maid. "Very good, very good. Now, you ah...should know, I was there on the night you were...let go." He didn't look directly at her, but still watched from the corner of his eye. "Quite the ruckus, eh? In your own words, please. What precisely happened?"

Lillian tensed up at the question, but kept up her serious expression as she seemed to contemplate her answer. “It wasn’t me,” she began, her composure slipping just a little as she entered into a recital of what happened that night. "I understand this sounds rather... unreal," she admitted after another brief pause. "I don't know what that thing was. It didn't quite look human, but it could move like one..." she trailed off.

Her reaction showed she was deeply unnerved by what had happened; sometimes he forgot what it could be like for mortals, or those who were not raised in a mage's household. Wesley felt a little guilty, making her go through the mortifying task of explaining what she must know would sound outrageous to any other mortal, but he was glad she was honest and that it confirmed what he believed. There was a moment of silence, then he slid the book toward her. "Please, open to the marked page," he asked quietly.

A slightly shaking hand reached out to take the book and opened to the page he had marked; her eyes widened and she eagerly skimmed through the page. "That... That looks like what I saw," she finally said. "But spirits don't exist," she added. It was said almost as a question, as if she wasn't sure what to believe.

A small smile crossed Wesley's face as he watched her growing understanding. He knew that he had to move slowly. He was not a typical counselor for new occurrences, but he had talked out a plan with one the day before. "You are not crazy, my dear. You can trust what your eyes saw. If I told you that there were to parts of this world, the Seen and the Unseen, one of magic and one of mortals, I think that you might find that certain inexplicable situations in your past make sense, no?" He smiled and leaned back as Pritchard knocked on the door, bringing in the tea tray.

"Here, take a cup of tea. It might help." He gestured to the cup that Pritchard poured and held out to Lillian. "Very good, Pritchard, you may go." The dour man bowed his head ceremoniously and then slowly marched out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Wesley kept silent to give her a little space to process the overturning of her entire world's view. There was conflict written across her face, and a little fear; yet she presented with a restrained posture. “Magic? That’s a thing of fairy tales, isn’t it?” Lillian asked.

"Well," he tapped his chin as he thought how best to explain the situation. "You may find it either disappointing or reassuring to know that you are not precisely unique. The magical world is pretty well integrated, even into our industrial society. It is just...a different culture that is just as ancient as the non-magical, but not everyone gets to participate in it. There are plenty of people around you who have varying levels of magical abilities. Some people are only aware of magic to a degree, and some are able to wield it. It's partly your innate skill, partly working to cultivate it. I'm not sure where you are on that scale, but I think it would be helpful for you to explore it so that you know what to expect and how to...control it."

Wesley took a sip of tea and placed the cup on the saucer in his lap with a clink. "I have been trying to track down the satyr that caused so much trouble. If you would like, you could help me. If not, I can put you into contact with a teacher."

"Wait... You think I have magic?" she asked, looking back at Wesley. "But I just...how do you know I have any sort of abilities?"

Wesley shrugged nonchalantly. “Dunno, ol’ gel. That’s what we’ve got to figure out. Notice how no one else but you and, of course, myself, noticed the little devil? Magical sensitivity at the very least.”

"I would like to help with the satyr," she told him. "I don't know what I can do to help, but I would like to do something about it."

“Magic ain’t like they show in the books, don’t you know,” he ashed out his cigarette and tapped the table top. “It’s a bit of genetics, of course, but mostly it’s how well you study. You could be as powerful as Merlin himself but if you don’t know how to use it, it won’t do you any good. It’s like...tennis. You might have a better set of lungs than the next dame, but if you don’t learn the rules and you don’t train, you ain’t gonna win a match. Then again, could be you’ve got a case of asthma and the most you can do is watch a game knowing the rules so you can tell what’s going on.”

Wesley grinned at her. “I thought you might like the chance. We’re not going to hurt him, see, as he’s not bad. More like a naughty old man with the temperament of a toddler, what?” he chuckled.

“Take some time to think it over, why don’t you? Come round at, say, tea time tomorrow if you are still interested.” He stood up to conclude the meeting and held out his hand. “Pleasure, Miss Adams. Best not to spread your story too far, eh?”

[missstormcaller]

CAN’T FEAR YOUR OWN WORLD Vol. II Part 13 Full Translation

This is 1/4 of part 13 on the app

Chapter 12

Fullbringer.

Those who were born amid a connection between man and Hollow that has lasted since ancient times, those who were born out of the cracks.

As for why they came into being, excluding some among the Shinigami, there are few who know the truth.

To the Fullbringers themselves, just as the very concept defied logic, its significance was also incomprehensible; 'power' was bestowed to them from a reality which they had no say in, one in which their 'parents were attacked by Hollows'. There are also those who consider these powers convenient, and thus they choose to indulge in it. However, in the end it is mere borrowed plumes. Those who simply continue to use their powers as they desire without even understanding the significance behind the extraordinary abilities that were bestowed upon them, eventually bring about their own demise. Those who choose not to wallow in greed also possess power that no others had, naturally this caused them to drift away from the world, and as a result, the individuals who ended up remaining hidden from society were in the majority. to go into specifics, the unique inherent ability that is born by distorting the nature of an object they hold a particular attachment to through the power of Fullbring, that is surely something given by gods —— or perhaps it can even be described as the stuff of the gods in itself; rather than being an exaggerated notion, one might be able to say it partially rearranges the foundation on which the 'world's mode of existence' is built. As if saying it was one of their privileges to be able to raise an objection against a system of a world decided by others. An attachment to something in one's vicinity. In other words, the innate abilities belonging to Fullbringers, is the very source which causes them to grow alienated from the world, and at the same time, it is also the chain that keeps these isolated individuals tethered to it. Then what of those who hold no attachment?

Those who were unable to harbour the slightest fragment of sentiment towards the world, towards the various items among their personal effects, and ultimately, even towards their own life; Fullbringers who have refused to establish a connection, have feelings of love or even hatred, what kind of situation do they eventually arrive at as a result?

Michibane Aura was one answer to that question.

She is an extremely rare case, a Fullbringer of two consecutive generations. It appears that her father was a Fullbringer by nature, and her mother an ordinary human being. A chance meeting between her Fullbringer father and her ordinary human mother, a realisation of their hopes. Joined in marriage by a love that endured hardships different to that of ordinary people, the two were bound by fate. —— However, her mother, a mere human, came to be attacked by a Hollow. Her Fullbringer father beat the Hollow back by making full use of his powers, but by that point Aura's mother had obtained a serious injury. They were able to safely deliver their unborn child —— but in return, her wounds were so severe that she ended up losing her life.

Could it not be down to the fact that he was a Fullbringer, the fact that the foetus was tainted with his blood, which ultimately attracted the Hollow? The father who considered as much, continued endlessly to seek out a way to eradicate this power from within himself, even after Aura was born. He isn't the only one who would have to carry on like this. After all, he feared that Aura too would be rejected by the world. Then, ten-odd years later. Towards an Aura who had quickly grown, her father raises his voice after giving a look of great joy. —— "Rejoice, for both I and Aura may be freed from this curse."

—— "There's a Substitute Shinigami who goes by the name of Ginjō Kūgo, he's gathering comrades."

—— "I'm not sure what sort of thing a Substitute Shinigami is supposed to be, but that man, he's a credible fellow."

—— "Because he says, he will absorb the Hollow powers out of our bodies for us."

—— "First, I shall test to see whether or not it's safe. And supposing there were no problems with my findings…"

—— "Aura, then you can live a normal life." As she listened to those words which comprised of hope, jubilation, and the slightest fragment of anxiety, Aura tried to wrap her head around it. —— 'Normal', I wonder what that is. —— Why? —— Aren't Hollow powers, the source of the Fullbring that father taught me? —— Why must we hand it over to somebody else? —— Do we have to eliminate it? —— Then, once we've done such a thing, I'll have nothing whatsoever. —— To live a normal life, what does it mean? —— Does this mean, the current me is not considered 'normal'? Father. Aura who had been confined to a basement by the hands of her father, suddenly contemplated such things.

Aura's father may have been broken by his wife's death. Even though he had confined his own daughter to the basement of their home, he by no means restored to violence, nor did it mean that he neglected her upbringing. As far as her father was concerned, she was something that must be protected, she was all that was left of his beloved wife, that is to say, she was also his very reason of being. He had to protect her. From the Hollows, from the prying eyes of the human race, from the world itself which considered them heretics. For Aura who was brought up within a fish tank-like room at the basement level of their mansion, her world was limited to this confined space and her father alone. If it would only bring her sorrow to learn of the world, her father would make sure not to grant her even a single book. Not to speak of a television, he didn't even inform her of the vast expanse of space which lies beyond her room, she was merely taught such things as basic reading, writing and physical laws, and given training on Fullbring techniques in order to protect herself from Hollows. Her world was complete with that alone. A world that would never be encumbered, and relative to that, neither is it one that would ever expand. A tasteless and odourless world. A world without colour.

A world void of freedom.

A world where one is unable to even discern what difference there was between hope and despair. Her father's cooking was just about the only thing that roused her emotions. Though she had memories of his delicious home cooking, her father had headed towards the location of the man known as Ginjō before it could form a foundation of her Fullbring as the 'attachment'.—— And he never returned again. Even Aura with her limited knowledge is quick to understand that some kind of abnormality had occurred. Nevertheless, she was not able to judge for herself what to do in such an event. Hunger, it is said to be one of the most painful sufferings among the agonies a human being can experience. For Aura who was at least made to eat her meals at her own convenience despite being confined, this first taste of pain was enough to splinter her immature psyche. Even so, that she was not completely broken, was it the result of the Fullbring training which she had been initiated into by her father? Or perhaps, a benefit from the 'factor' that has been present within her as a Fullbringer from the very beginning? Either way, she succeeded in overcoming the situation before the point of no return. When her sense of hunger reached its limit, she raised her hands to the walls of her water tank-like room, drew out its soul using her Fullbringer powers, set it to work, and then —— In the next instant, those walls that confined her —— the tempered glass of her tank is reduced to sand entirely, disappearing from her presence.

With staggered movements, the young girl she was stepped out from the basement and towards the 'outside world'. Remaining oblivious to even the fact that this was still part of the mansion known as her 'inner world', she completely destroys the locks on the doors which were applied sevenfold, and continues walking. The 'world' she had grasped with her own hands for the first time, took the form of a portion of ingredients located inside the kitchen. Having realised that it was something her father puts into the food he would prepare for her, she gave into instinct and devoured it greedily —— the taste of decay immediately resulted in her spitting it out. Ironically, the only part of the 'world' that offered her attachment, ended up being rejected by own body. If it were not for that process, she may have been awakened to her own innate abilities which took 'food' as her attachment and then lived out the rest of her life as an 'ordinary' Fullbringer. Perhaps she would have encountered the man named Ginjō Kugō, perhaps she would have battled Kurosaki Ichigo, or maybe it would have brought about a distinct salvation. However, things didn't work out that way. In her world, something that entertained enough attachment to maintain a connection, never made an appearance. Alternatively, though it was a skewed relationship, it may have been the case that her very father was the link that served as an attachment for her —— and yet, even he disappeared from Aura's world.

Collapsing upon reaching the 'outside' in the true sense of the word, she was lucky to be discovered by a passer-by and was thus given protection by the police as a result. When they found signs of her confinement in her crumbling home, for a short while, the public were in an uproar over the perverseness of the father who imprisoned his own daughter, but soon after, even that uproar died down, and the girl known as Aura was completely forgotten from this world. Perhaps feeling that the girl would be unable to go by a surname belonging to the sort of father who would confine his own daughter; at the hands of the relatives on her mother's side that took her into the care of the Michibane family, she was to live her life after that as "Michibane Aura."

A time span of several more years had passed since then —— she was being integrated into general social life. To say she ‘was integrated’ is probably not entirely accurate. Completely effacing her very being, she continued to pass the time like weeds growing by the roadside. Her physical appearance was very beautiful, naturally it was no surprise that she attracted the eyes of both men and women without discrimination, yet even considering the idea that she hadn't drawn the attention, perhaps it might also be her Fullbring that exerted some kind of influence on her surroundings. It's not like it was her intention to hide from the world. However, given that she was unable to harbour any interest whatsoever towards the world, it's only natural that she would remain placid in that kind of way. Regarding her father whom she had nothing but trust for, the people around her would relentlessly slander him saying "he's a wicked person" and "forget about such a man." If she considers it from the angle of her knowledge of life as a member of society which she later acquired, then admittedly her father could probably be regarded as depraved. Aura had come to notice that as she matured, but now that things have come to pass, it made no difference to her. As far as she was concerned, the real world was inside the confined space of that glass tank, but without any attachment being born there —— even in this 'new world' which should have been stimulating, its entirety can only be seen as an extension of that glass tank.

Upon stretching her interpretation of the world, to her, there was no such thing as 'an existence with an attachment' that was enough to force her 'Fullbring' to develop —— Nevertheless, when Aura herself is asked about this matter, what she had was one sole answer.

"What is important to me… is the very Fullbring that I learned from my father. This saved my life. I was able to survive because of it. Nothing else is needed. I may be indifferent about my father. However, the Fullbring I learned from him, it's my everything." And the 'architect of the question' who had heard that answer, spoke whilst nodding approvingly. "I see, yes I see, so this is how you've grown up huh? How very amusing." She immediately understood that the man who had flashed a sinister smile, is 'something' different to the people around her. 'It' suddenly appeared before her one day. It could not be seen by anyone other than herself. It was a being akin to the white monsters that would attack her from time to time. The man, clad in strangely outdated garments, opens his mouth to speak whilst watching her closely as if in assessment. "You're able to hunt down even Huge Hollows at your age? Moreover, it's highly intriguing that you're using nothing but the basic techniques of a Fullbringer." So saying, the man kicked at the remnants of the white monsters that had been dealt with by Aura just a moment ago and now lay strewn around their feet. "…Who are you? You're not a human are you?" "Oh, me? Where are my manners. I am what you people would call a 'god'. I am what's known as a 'Shinigami'. Have you never heard of our existence from your father?" —— Shinigami. What is recollected in her mind, is not not the absolute being who governs death which occasionally appears in the likes of books that she had read on the 'outside'… but rather, the words her father had left with her in the end.

—— "A Substitute Shinigami who goes by the name of Ginjō, he's gathering comrades."

"…Ginjō?" In response to Aura's murmur, the man who claimed to be a Shinigami laughed in delight. "Hahahaha! I didn't see that coming! What a pity, what a great pity indeed! I guess it would be ideal if that were the case though. Both for you, and for Ginjō Kugō himself." "Who… are you?" Confronted by Aura who, without even a tinge of emotion, raised this question carried in words that only entertained uncertainty, the man blithely contorted his lips even further whilst stating his own name. "My name is Tokinada. Tsunayashiro Tokinada." "Tokinada…?" "Are lowly humans always this rude? You should address me with 'sama'. That's 'Tokinada sama' to you. At present I'm still under house arrest, but the Human World is so very fascinating these days, I have a tendency to sneak out against my better judgement.… Well, that's fine proof that the lot from the head house take no notice of the likes of me." Faced with the man before her eyes who gave an answer to a question she hadn't asked, and on top of that, continues to speak of matters she couldn't quite comprehend the meaning of, Aura tilted her head in confusion, but then —— The matter he spoke of in the next instant, resulted in forcibly drawing her interest. "Ah, that's right, you want to know who I am, rather than my name and circumstances." Just as the friendly smile had emerged on his face, he easily let slip the truth. "It's an uncomplicated matter really. I am a descendant of the family who ordered the killing of your father." "…Huh?" Aura's countenance which was like a deadpan mask, is now thrown into immense disarray for the first time. As if to say that he also found her reaction amusing, the 'Shinigami' who introduced himself as Tokinada, assembles more words. "Your father, his whereabouts is supposedly unknown… but in fact, he's already dead. It won't hurt to thank me for saving you the time and effort to go searching for him you know? If you wish to bawl your eyes out, that would be amusing in its own way. If you wish to revile me as the enemy of your father and kill me in an act of revenge, I'd still consider that fun. Kidō against Fullbring, shall we see which one will come out on top in a contest of skill?" "…I don't understand what you're getting at. My father, your saying he was killed by your family? Why?" "Hn? Oh, the reason? The reason huh. If I could answer you with 'there is no such reason' then it might be possible to belittle your father's memory even more, however I suppose I may as well answer you honestly." Tokinada slowly walked around Aura, at the same time he observes a fluctuation of her Reiatsu. Although he could see her confusion, he could not sense any feelings of unrest caused by emotions like anger or sorrow. As he examined her carefully with eyes that appeared as if they were gazing at a rare species, Tokinada uttered the answer to her question. "It's retrieval. What should be 'property' that originally belongs to us, was fused with the souls of people like your father, and yourself." "……?" "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter does it? What's the most important thing now? What of the detestable family of adversaries, who robbed you of the world inside that confined glass tank that was oh-so precious to you, who now stands before your very eyes?" Hearing those words, Aura's eyes begin to narrow. "You even know about… my past?" "Yes, but of course. Because I have been watching. I suppose the factor lay hidden on your mother's side too. That it would be passed down for two consecutive generations, and what's more, to be a Fullbringer at the same time, this is an extremely rare case. Naturally, you were observed. So, what will you do? Do you accept my challenge of a duel? Obviously I will put up a resistance." "…. There's no need. To be honest, I'm not interested." Watching Aura as she readily shook her head, Tokinada laughs. "Hahaha, that's right, yes I thought as much, you probably don't have that kind of disposition. In the past, when I tested a man who abandoned himself to sentiment, quite the opposite of you, I employed a more elaborate act. Yes, the way that man glared at me with his unseeing eyes, even thinking back on it now, it's intoxicating.… Though, the concept of intoxication itself seems to be nonexistent to you in the first place." After talking about someone who was not present at the scene right now, Tokinada remarked as if treating Aura with contempt. Remaining void of both indignation and fear towards this, Aura poses a question regarding her own fate in an unfazed manner. "Do you intend to kill me too?" "Yes, eventually. Depending on the situation, I may even spare you." "Eventually…?" Towards the man who had declared that her own execution looms ahead, she harboured no emotion whatsoever as before, at the same time, Aura could hardly fathom the other party's intentions and is thus bewildered. Or perhaps, that very bewilderment is the closest element to what constitutes an emotion permitted to Aura. Tokinada reveals his own objectives to her in all sincerity. -- -- As if to announce that he looked forward to how she would receive it, and whatever ending it would lead to. "The 'factor' that dwells within you; rather than retrieving it as components, it's more interesting to put it into operation through a single unit, besides it looks like you would come in handy as a game piece under my control." "I would be… your game piece? What for?" "You have no attachment to this world, correct? That being the case, we should repaint the world anew. If we forge a new world, then maybe you will come to find something you can harbour an attachment to along with it?" Whether or not he was simply talking at random with those words, Aura who at the time was unfamiliar with the world, was unable to understand. Like the snake who enticed the first of mankind, Tokinada gradually ensnares his victim with the thread that are his words. "The heart and left arm ended up returning to that Quincy lot… but what exists within you is also rather unique. I want to turn you into my game piece at all costs. I shall give you something you desire. As long as it's within my power to do so of course." "…Right now, there is no such thing that I desire." "Then, someday its time will come but until then you should give it some consideration. Also, if you are to become my game piece, when it comes to the way you treat others at least, you should do a little better. It doesn't matter if you have to force a smile. Your faint smile, I dare say it's likely to beguile both men and women alike." Disregarding the words of Tokinada who spoke of an unsettling matter, she continued with her questions as if keeping after him. "What is it that dwells within me?" In response to that query, the man grins widely as he reveals a certain truth to Aura. .

.

. "An organ referred to as the 'Saketsu' (*Binding Chain)… which belongs to a being called the Soul King."