#i actually had a dream i was going to the masters of the night-wind area

[pugwitharug]

Genuinely thought Dragonspine was gonna explode this upcoming patch

[shadowwolflady]

Hatake Kakashi Headcanons with Rai

Rai is my Original Character, or OC. She was made back in 2003 and has evolved to this day.

I originally had a different story going about her, but it became too complicated and long. So I decided to shorten it.

Anyways here are some headcanons of Kakashi with Rai.

For context, Rai is a female wolf demon that has a main form as a human. Her rank is ANBU.

General

When dating, going out to get something to eat, or tea. They try to keep everything low key.

Just staying over night and sleeping in bed with each other means so much.

He will disappear to Rai's apartment to avoid responsibilities for a while. He uses this time to decompress. It's his place he can relax.

He has gone to her place, while she was on a mission, just to sleep in her bed so he could relax. Rai allows him to stay whenever he wants. 

He will perch in a high area just to watch Rai for a bit. 

Seeing her, even from afar, helps to give him a boost to finish his job.

He is protective of Rai and hates when people bully her. Simply by stepping up next to her and diverting the attention to him. But Rai will take physical attacks for him. 

He is her protector, her guardian. And she is his protector. He knows she is powerful and could kill him. But she doesn't. She is his backup plan in case he falls during battle.

He loves spending time with her, just being around her. Even if they are just silent and sitting somewhere.

Favorite pastime is to read and nap by the lake beneath a tree, preferably on her lap.

Both are each other's scary dog privilege. Rai to keep others away and keep things nice and quiet around him. Kakashi to keep others from bullying Rai.

He gets a little more distant when Rai is away on a mission. He doesn't pay attention to his book and winds up day dreaming.

He loves it when she comes to his place after she gets cleaned up and changed. But he REALLY loves it when she is so exhausted that she goes to his place anyways, despite her being covered in blood. 

They both take turns cooking. She's not the best, but she tries. And she gets better. She actually masters his favorite dish.

He ADORES Rai's wolf form.

Did not tell Rai about Sukea, but Rai quickly found out after he took a photo of her and his scent hit her. She played it off. 

Rai HATES it when he smokes. He knows it and actually quits smoking while they date.

When he has night terrors, Rai holds him. She has gotten hit and kicked out of bed. Not his fault. Him laying on her chest, listening to her breathing and heartbeat sometimes works, but it can also stress him out. But her laying on him really does the trick.

He is honored by Rai’s loyalty. 

He isn't a jealous person. He trusts her and her loyalty.

Kakashi loves and respects Rai.

Rai loves and respects him.

He has gotten used to some of Rai's demonic presence, not all of it. Only about ⅓ of it. 

Was in the presence of her full demon form. He felt like she knew him and wouldn't hurt him. This was when she was bound and chained by “peacekeepers” or demon hunters.  

Loves seeing her in his sweater.

Because of Rai, he knows a ton about demons and dark chakra. He is the go to for handling and dealing with demons, despite Rai being a demon herself.

He knows Rai doesn't have a big social battery and a small friend group. If he ever sees her out in public, she may be stressed. He will step beside her for support. Especially if he sees she may be shutting down.

Falls asleep on her shoulder and lap a lot.

Affection

Surprises her by getting her flowers, especially with her favorite peonies in them. He knows she isn't a material person, but it is nice every so often to show her he appreciates and loves her.

He will get her the next book in the series she likes.

He will also stop by her favorite restaurant to get her favorite food for dinner every once in a while.

He allows her to initiate, she sets the tempo. 

He loves lounging on the couch with her on his chest.

He loves patting her head and praising her. He swears he sees a fluffy tail wag when he does this.

He loves being the big spoon.

He leads and holds her hand when crowds are in the street and they need to get through.

Will kiss her through his mask.

Will slip his mask down to place a kiss on her cheek or lips quickly. 

Loves to kiss her temple, head, or cheek when he can.

Loves when she leans up to place a quick peck on his cheek. 

Loves to go on walks with her. They don't need to hold hands but it is a bonus.

Loves holding her from behind. Burying his nose in her shoulder and neck.

Rare PDA is hand holding. Even rarer is when he will place a kiss on her cheek or temple.

Melts when she runs her fingers through his hair.

Usually, when Rai cups his face with her hands, he turns to place a kiss on the palm of her hand. Sometimes her knuckles too.

Basically, he loves her and will do just about anything for her. And vice versa.

These are just some of the brain rot I have in my head for these two.

Their reunion story is in my pinned called Old Comrades.

Reading her books

[landinoandco]

A Game of Chess

Carlos Sainz x reader

Request from @leesuhnakamoto-krys "Carlos Sainz x reader fluff"

Warnings: fluff, a slight reference if you squint.

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open :)

This year - due to the current pandemic - there were to be two races in Austria, however to keep with the theme of ‘no two races the same’ they were to be called different things: the Styrian grand prix for the first race and the Austrian Grand Prix for the second. This weekend saw the first of the two and your boyfriend Carlos Sainz finished a respectable 6th place behind his former teammate and current best friend Lando Norris. 

The majority of the grid had decided to stay in the surrounding area, making the most of the time they had - not only to keep on training but to explore. 

Travelling the world with Carlos was a dream come true and you were so lucky to be able to do your job on the move - you were a travel blogger/vlogger and were pretty well known for it as well. A large following of people that enjoyed watching your weekly lifestyle and travel vlogs alongside the photography that came with it. 

It was the Monday following the race so Carlos had taken it as a rest day, you had woken up that morning in his arms, tracing circles on one of them as you both spoke about your plans for the day. 

“And a haircut is what I really need.” He said to you, as you moved a strand that had fallen into his eyes. 

“No, I like it long, you look more -” You paused. “Mature.” Giggling, you moved your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. He shook his head at you, a large smile plastered onto his face. He leaned forward onto his forearms, connecting your lips together for a brief second before pulling away and rolling out of bed. Leaving you, still huddled in all of the covers, watching him as he strode across the room to the hotel chest of drawers, pulling out two t-shirts; one of which he put on and the other being chucked in your general direction. 

“So, cariño, what is your plan for today?” Carlos asked, flopping onto the bed and looking up to you.

“I think I’m going to go and explore the town, some of my followers have recommended a few places so I think I am going to check those out, take a few photos-” You trailed off as he began to draw patterns onto the palm of your hand. You smiled fondly at him, you had met just before lockdown completely by chance after you bumped into him in a train station. He had asked for your number and feeling like he had given you no reason to say no, you did and as it turns out, it was the best decision of your life. “What is your plan for the day ahead, mi Amor.” 

“I think I am meeting Lando this afternoon at a café down the road. I’m going to teach him to play chess.” He said proudly, emphasising the word ‘chess.’ 

“Chess?” You questioned, reaching over for the top and putting it on. It was one of his old team McLaren t-shirts, you scoffed at his still apparent loyalty to the team; admittedly it was your favourite but Ferrari didn’t need to know that. 

“Yes.” Carlos stated, he then pointed at the t-shirt you were wearing. “I would recommend not leaving the hotel room with that t-shirt on. I don’t want to get into trouble.” He fought to keep the smile off of his lips. Your eyes lit up, “I wouldn’t even dream of it, mi Amor.”

You had agreed with Carlos that as soon as you had finished what you had set out to do that morning, you would meet him in the café alongside Lando. “Do you fancy playing a game of chess with me, later?” You had asked before you went your separate ways. 

Carlos gave a lopsided grin and kissed your forehead. “We will see, cariño, we will see.” With that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street. Styria was a beautiful town, a handful of buildings situated in the mass of rolling hills and mountain tops that covered the landscape for as far as the eye could see. 

You had walked up to a stone viewing point at the peak of the town, a small bench that overlooked the south past Styria and into the Austrian countryside.

You loved this time you got to yourself, it allowed for you to sit and reminisce; bathing in all of the memories that lead up to this point in your life. You thought back to the day Carlos asked you to move to Italy with him - due to him changing teams. It almost broke your relationship, the thought of leaving all of your family and friends behind in England but in the end you decided it was an adventure too thrilling to pass on...

It was a breezy summer evening in London, the clouds had blanketed the city and a faint rumble of the traffic could be heard from your apartment. Carlos had messaged you earlier that day, asking if he could talk to you when he got home - for the remainder of that afternoon nerves had settled comfortably in the pit of your stomach. At last you heard the unlocking of the door, your head whipped around to see a tired looking Carlos to fall through the door with a sigh. As soon as he looked up and saw you sat on the sofa, his eyes gleamed. “Mi amor.” He said tiredly, his brows knitted momentarily before he nodded his head. “Right, my text message.” You nodded unsure of where this conversation was heading. It was early days in your relationship so anything was possible. 

“I got an offer from Ferrari-” He started, making his way over to you, you watched him intently, nibbling on your lower lip. “It’s an offer that in this industry you don’t turn down, obviously there is a lot to consider because it would mean leaving McLaren and-” He sighed, “This country behind.” 

A line appeared between your brows, you didn’t speak for fear of interrupting his train of thought. He took your hand in his. 

“If I signed with Ferrari, I would have to move to Italy-” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Which is why I wanted to ask you if you would come with me.” 

You definitely didn’t expect him to ask this, any expression that was on your face before had been wiped as you took to staring. “I’m asking a big thing and obviously you don’t have to answer straight away.” He rushed in response to your dumbfounded expression. 

For the next few days - after that conversation - the atmosphere between the pair of you had become tense, you had decided to call your sister and explained the whole situation to her. In a nutshell she called you an idiot for not saying yes immediately.  

“I’ve been thinking-” You began to Carlos that evening . “I would love to move to Italy with you. It’s a good opportunity to really write our story, explore the world - together. It will be such a great adventure.” Carlos didn’t need to ask you twice and he enveloped you into his arms and span you around, meeting your lips with his. 

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead on yours. That night was also the first time those three words were exchanged. “I love you too.” You replied sweetly, your lips brushing his as you did so. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. You were so lucky to have found Carlos - actually you found each other - you like to believe that it was the universe who had a hand in it. Carlos was your soulmate and you were honoured to be able to call him that. 

Deciding it was time you made your way back to him, you started on your journey back to the main town - down the steep, winding path, birds darting overhead and the chirp of crickets sounding in the hedgerows. 

You reached the café and as soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the smell of warm coffee, you went over to the counter and ordered yourself a latte - casting your gaze around the old fashioned shop, you were surprised to see that only a few people were sitting inside; an older couple, who had taken extreme interest in the pair you were here to see. You chuckled to yourself as the barista placed your drink onto the counter in front of you. 

“Drew quite the crowd earlier.” He leant over the counter, pointing to the pair, they were stuck in an intense game of chess and by the looks of it - Lando was winning. Carlos looked up, shaking his head as Lando moved another one of his pieces off of the board; as he did he noticed you standing there and waved you over. 

“Yes, I bet they did.” You chuckled, taking the drink and nodding ‘thanks’ to him. Carlos pulled a chair up for you and motioned to the chess board in anguish, “You will not believe it, mi Amor. He is beating me.” Lando was sat on the other side wearing a cocky grin and his arms crossed onto the table. 

“So what you are trying to tell me, Carli , is that you taught Lando too well and now he is beating you.” You pointed out, the corners of your eyes crinkled. Carlos only glared at you, sighing dramatically. Lando played incredibly well and did take the victory, punching his arms in the air as he called out ‘checkmate.’ 

“The student becomes the master.” He cheered, high fiving you and offered to shake Carlos’ hand but Carlos pouted and pushed it away with his index finger. “No. How on earth did you win? I’ve only just taught you.” He cried out. 

You looked at Lando as Lando looked at you, both fighting the urge to laugh. You couldn’t hold it in as you held onto the table - both doubling over. 

“I love you, Carli, I really do but - boy - are you a sore loser.” You managed to say. 

“Well, cheers, mate.” Lando said getting up, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to head off now. Dinner with Jon.” You waved as he left, fist bumping Carlos on his way past. 

“Do you fancy a game with me now?” You asked, your elbow was resting on the table so you leant on the heel of your palm. 

“On one condition.” Carlos said, setting the chess board back up, “As long as you promise not to beat me like Lando just did.” 

“Of course, mi Amor.” You said, a hint of mocking in your tone. You admired the way he scrunched up his nose as he concentrated, working out what his first move was going to be. 

“The aim of chess is to be in control of your opponent, you want to be able to trick them into doing exactly what you want them to do.” Carlos said, moving his first piece. “You have to play with dominance.” He added theatrically. 

“You want me to be dominant?” You repeated incredulously, a smirk toying with your lips. “Well, why didn’t you say so. After all this time-” 

“Mi Amor.” He gasped, lowering his voice. “Not like that -” He stammered, a pink flush rising up his neck. You only winked in reply and made your move. 

“Go on, tell me more about chess.” You urged him on, watching as he went to make his move. He paused, met your gaze and narrowed his eyes. You shrugged innocently and he carried on; his gaze softened as a reminiscent haze coated his eyes. 

“You know,” Carlos began, placing the chess piece down and resting both of his elbows onto the table. “When my dad first met my mum, he taught her how to play chess and they used to sit in the kitchen on a Sunday morning after church and play. It was then my mum who taught me, on the weekends when my dad was away racing; we used to sit in the kitchen together on a Sunday after church and play. It was always the highlight of my weekend.” You watched as he fondly spoke about his family, warmth filled your chest. 

“You teach me well then and maybe we could turn it into a tradition.” You spoke gently, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. Awe transformed his face as he gazed at you. 

Many years later you would end up making it a tradition, as you taught your daughter how to play on a Sunday after church as she watched her daddy race. You would tell her the story every time you would go to play and every time you would think about how lucky you were to have bumped into that stranger in the train station. They say that you will find your soulmate when you least expect it and after all these years - you would have to agree. 

[offaeandcreation]

A Pearl Lost and Found

“This is the composition I made for my final exam; its name is ‘A Pearl Button Lost and Found.’” She announced. Finally, she settled her fingers on the guqin and rang her first chord.

Meng Shi waited and waited. Trained A-Yao in everything she knew; reading, writing, music, even squirreling away every extra coin on cultivation manuals. A-Yao must be ready for when Jin Guangshan returned for them. For him. For her. Day in and day out. He trained. She worked.

Jin Guangshan did not return.

CW: Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Financial Issues Referenced

AO3

A breeze rushed through the open hall, sweeping the white and blue banners of the Gusu Lan Sect into a dance. Though the noise never passed a whisper, a hush settled as a young woman ambled into the hall. With her guqin tucked in a silk sleeve under her arm, robes curling around her like blooming petals of a flower, Meng Shi settled in her place at the front of the hall like an immortal cultivator, long fingers ghosting over the qin strings.

“This is the composition I made for my final exam; its name is ‘A Pearl Button Lost and Found.’” She announced. Finally, she settled her fingers on the guqin and rang her first chord.  

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

She dreamed Jin Guangshan would return for her. Constructed fantasies where one night he would sweep into the brothel, take A-Yao into his arms, smiling as he did so, and ferry them away. Far away.

Deep in the nights, while a client would take their pleasure inside her, Meng Shi would dream: it was him, not a client. She was in Jin Guangshan’s bed, married and unworried when her next meal would be. And A-Yao was practicing cultivation and studying the six arts, not hidden in a closet away from wandering eyes. Sometimes, when the client was especially rough, not bothering to even use oil, (or letting her slip it on), she would clutch the pearl button he had given her so tightly she would find its imprint inscribed into her palm the next morning.

A button and a dream. That’s all she had.

Meng Shi waited and waited. Trained A-Yao in everything she knew; reading, writing, music, even squirreling away every extra coin on cultivation manuals. A-Yao must be ready for when Jin Guangshan returned for them. For him. For her.

Day in and day out. He trained. She worked.

Jin Guangshan did not return.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The chords soft and slow, required Meng Shi to hold down zither strings while plucking others. And then the pause. The last note hung in the air, stringing the audience into an uncomfortable pause. Made them freeze, spines akin to metal spikes – waiting for the breath, the respite. Just like she was all those years. At least, they had the privilege of it lasting only for a moment.  

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The one who freed her out of the brothel did not wear gold. At least in his robes; he brought no buttons or promises.

In fact, when they first met, she didn’t even know who he was.

The last visages of sunlight vanished beneath the horizon. A couple days off, only during the time she bled. Cramps tightened their grip around Meng Shi’s waist and it must have shown on her face for A-Yao crept closer, clutching at her skirt. She squeezed his hand with a smile, making certain her eyes crinkled. A-Yao returned the grin. She wondered if it was as false as her own.

The merchant selling the cultivation manuals often took his place at the end of the street, just at the intersection between the poor and rich red district in Yunping. She scanned the crowd for the familiar squirrelly-mustached man in blue or green hemp. Loud chatter boomed in the busy street as vendors and prostitutes called out to potential customers. Potential coin. Another meal. Another day.

“Are you looking for your friends?” A voice said very much close by. The sort of slurred smirking tone Meng Shi was all too familiar with. She pulled A-Yao close, using her sleeve and skirts to hide him, her fingers dug into her purse, nails scraping through the thin material into the too little coin. She peered over her shoulder, scanning for the drunkard.

Not even a couple paces away, said drunkard lounged on a nearby pillar, liquor pouring down his chin as he looked down on what appeared to be a cloaked person—their back to her. The fabric looked thin, and it shimmered against the torchlight.

Red silk, most likely. Rich.

Though the weather wasn’t as humid as it usually was this time of year, it was obvious the person wished to hide their identity. As if a rich man could shed his origin so easily in these parts.

“I asked where Yunmeng is.” A youthful voice replied, coming from the throat of someone who just stepped over the door’s ledge of adolescence into adulthood thoug it didn’t crack, “either tell me or I’m leaving.”

A gold piece flashed in the torchlight.

Her coin purse too light.

The merchant may raise the price again. And she wouldn’t even be able to afford a meal for A-Yao.

“A-Niang?” A-Yao asked. They had stopped walking.

The drunkard’s eyes glittered, a slow dripping grin spread on his face, “Ah, what a junior, so impatient. Too embarrassed to enter a brothel? With your pretty face, you may get even a discount!”

The young man bristled, hand flying to his side. The drunkard’s smile fell away into horror, skin sheet-white.

“I’m sure if I swing around your pretty face, anyone would give me a discount.” The young man hissed.

Meng Shi frowned. Rich and spoiled. Likely to flash a weapon he couldn’t even yield.

She pulled A-Yao along. Not worth the risk.

“A-Niang,” A-Yao said as they slipped back into the flow of the crowd, “I think he is a cultivator.”

~~~

The merchant raised the price.

Meng Shi tucked the booklet into her sleeve alongside the painfully empty purse. A-Yao dragged his feet on the pebbled ground, kicking up dirt clouds. They walked down a smaller street now, crowds and people leaning more into the open, brightly colored shops. Surprisingly enough, this side of the street remained empty. Not even drunkards or thieves hung around. Something about a ghost wandering the area. Not that she had ever seen it.  

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, frowning at her sleeve before pulling at her skirt to continue back to the brothel, “It’s nothing, A-Niang.”

The third time he got like this.

“A-Yao, please-” Meng Shi stopped, clutching the book closer to herself.

“The cultivator is here.” A-Yao interrupted, pointing behind her instead.

Meng Shi turned, and indeed a silhouette with a cloak leaped from balcony to balcony, right to the roof of an abandoned tea-house. No one had picked up the place due to the leaky, broken roof…

“Master cultivator! Watch out!” The cry tore out of her throat.

The moment the words left her mouth, the cultivator sunk into the rooftop as if it devoured him. A loud, painful crash.

Meng Shi covered her mouth with her sleeve. The tea-house simply too unsafe for her to enter, and what even could she offer?

What is it with rich men fooling around and getting themselves into trouble?

She should just leave. Perhaps the cultivator broke a bone or two, but he had the funds for a doctor, while if she so much as attempted to climb into the unstable building, a scratch could kill her.

A red light blinked in the holes of the house. Bright. Like a silent firework.

And the young cultivator shot up through the hole in the roof, cloak billowing around him like a flying flag. Sword beneath him, engulfed in the colors of a scarlet star.

Is this how Jin Guangshan flew? Would A-Yao one day be like an immortal, flying above them all?

She clutched the book closer. Hopefully.

The red light remained only for a moment, disappearing before anyone in the crowd noticed him.

He landed right in front of them. The wind swirled around him, cupping his figure in the air. A slow descent, a god. Meng Shi pulled A-Yao close, bowing her head.

“Is this esteemed cultivator injured?” She asked, eyeing the red, bleeding slashes on his exposed hands and chin. Her mind raced, tracing the building of the local doctor on a mental map. Yes, down two streets and-

“No need.” The cultivator replied.

A-Yao’s gasp tore her attention back to him.

The red slices slowly shrunk and disappeared, like wiping off makeup.

The cloak’s hood that framed his face slipped to reveal dark hair wound up in an elaborate hairstyle, clipped probably with some luxurious pin, hidden in shadow. Round red eyes met hers, “I appreciate your warning, however.”

Irises scanned her before shifting to A-Yao, peeking his head from behind her. He too must have seen how his wounds vanished in a flash.

“What a sweet-faced son, impressed?” Voice tilted up with a pride of a purring cat. Crescent smile to match.

A-Yao nodded, though his white-knuckled grip on Meng Shi’s skirt revealed his trepidation.

The cultivator slid a sword into its sheath, gold with motifs woven in. But the light from the shops and vendors proved to be insufficient lighting to see what they were.

Very expensive. Perhaps when Jin Guangshan took A-Yao to the Jinlintai, he would finally get one.

“Perhaps you can help me with a matter.” The cultivator said, “do you know-”

“Yunmeng is on the northern end of the city which you can find the lake to cross to reach it following up this street,” A-Yao said, pointing behind the cultivator.

Meng Shi squeezed A-Yao’s shoulder, “do not interrupt someone, A-Yao.” Much less a rich, dangerous cultivator.

The cultivator blinked before bursting into laughter, “I actually was going to ask something else, but clearly you must have walked by me earlier to overhear that interesting conversation.”

A cold pit dropped into Meng Shi’s gut. She swung her sleeve to cover A-Yao. Maybe he wouldn’t punish them for the interruption. Maybe-

The booklet went flying, clattering into the dirt as its flimsy spine snapped. Colorful papers skidded across the ground, flashing their contents for all to see.

And the coin purse slumped to the ground, not even containing a coin for a single clunk.

Meng Shi gasped. A-Yao scrambled on his hands and knees, picking up the scattered paper. She too, though tears blurred her vision, never mind her skirt, scrambled the precious paper up from the ground. There is no way the merchant would even allow them to exchange the book! He would demand money. And the pages were out-of-order now, not even numbered. How would A-Yao use it now?!

“What is this?” The cultivator leaned over, picking up a sheet.

Meng Shi bowed her head, shoulders shaking. Please don’t laugh at her. Please don’t-

“A cultivation manual, esteemed cultivator,” A-Yao answered, also bowing his head, remembering his manners.

Meng Shi dared to look up. The cultivator frowned at the sheet, flipping it back and forth. The line between his brows growing into a crevice. His gaze shifted back to A-Yao, “You eagerly want to become a cultivator?”

A-Yao hesitated, glancing at Meng Shi for assurance.

“I’d prefer you wouldn’t lie to me. There won’t be a consequence for your answer, but I hate liars.” The cultivator interrupted. He crossed his arms, but the page didn’t so much as crinkle. Long sharp nails barely ghosting the fragile paper.

“My father is a cultivator,” A-Yao replied, voice even.

“Oh?” The cultivator leaned back, posture relaxing a bit, “And who is this man? I might know him.”

“Sect Leader Jin Guangshan.”

The cultivator… flinched. He opened his mouth, paused, before closing.

Did something happen to Jin Guangshan? Why did he flinch? Was he this cultivator’s sworn enemy? Were they in danger?

He said nothing. And A-Yao remained in his spot, not so much as flinching or trembling under the red-eyed stare. Even with placid smile—the same mask Meng Shi wore with the more difficult clients.

The cultivator finally sighed, breaking the silence, and changing the subject, “What do you think of this… manual?” The way the words came out sounded like he just had eaten some strange-tasting fruit.

Meng Shi’s hand curled into a fist, hidden beneath her sleeve. How dare he? She stayed up night after night, working, spreading her damned legs for ferocious beasts to claw a meal for them. To get A-Yao schooled. To get those manuals so he could leave and never look back. Meng Shi would bet her pearl button given as a gift, as a promise, that this man wouldn’t survive one night working as a prostitute. And he had the gall to look down at the manual. At her?

A-Yao’s gaze flittered to the ground.

“Remember, I don’t like liars.” The cultivator reminded him.

“These manuals are useless,” A-Yao said. Now he shook, eyes flitting between her and the cultivator.

The wind stole her breath.

No.

No, he had to be incorrect.

A-Yao must have been doing something wrong, perhaps the manuals were too advanced or-

The cultivator smiled, sharp-edged like the sword he wore on his belt, “Correct. These are more likely to give you Qi deviation than anything else. A useless endeavor.” He then turned to her.

Only clasping her hands together, digging nails into her flesh kept her from bursting into tears, “You have a clever son. A shame really that-” he paused, frowning at her. The relaxed arrogance in his posture dissipated. Tht stupid smirk fell away.  

A rich. Spoiled. Brat-

“Your name?”

He suddenly wanted to know her name?!

“Meng Shi.” She hissed, grinding her teeth together to keep angry words from spilling.

At A-Yao, “and yours?”

“Meng Yao.” Obediently, responded with a salute.

“We’ll meet again then.” The cultivator said with a wave, cloak billowing like a curtain in the wind as he walked away, without a goodbye.

“A-Niang…”

“Let’s go home.”  

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The melody changed to something heavier, sadness into tension, but a playful sharp tune echoed within the pauses. How else would she paint their benefactor? Outer appearance merely a veneer of youth. Sharp-edged and almost bordering cruel. But unlike a certain man with a certain button, the man kept his promise. Foreshadowed in a lack of a goodbye and by the tune she plucked on the zither.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

Two nights later, as Meng Shi calculated the number of clients she would need to take on extra to buy a refill of rouge, anything but to think about the collection of false manuals stacked in a corner behind A-Yao when a rapid knock forced her to open her door early.

Sisi waited with a frown on her face. Lips already painted in her favorite deep rose pink, “Madame says someone is here for you.”

Meng Shi’s fingers dug into the old wood. Nails too short, clipped to defenseless crescent-moons, unable to even make a scratch on her damn door.

“A-Yao.” She gestured at her son, who had looked up from his poetry book when the door knocked, skin turning pale, “go hide. Only come out when I come for you.”

He nodded, slipping past her and Sisi with his shoulders hunched.

“Watch over him, please-”

Sisi grabbed her hand, warming her cold, trembling fingers between her palms, “I’ll scratch out anyone who so much as looks his direction.”

Meng Shi nodded, touching her hair, making sure not a single stubborn strand stood out of place. And she went to the first floor.

Madame Meng stood at the front room of the brothel with a cloaked man, taller than the young cultivator she met a few nights before but wearing the same color outer robes, standing akin to a column holding up a temple, with a stone expression to match.

“It appears a Young Master bought your contract.” Madame Meng twitched a false smile as Meng Shi lifted her head from her bow, “and your son’s.”

Meng Shi’s jaw dropped. She stared at the Madame before shifting to the unexpressive, unfamiliar man.

“Take any possessions and your son. I’ll escort you to your carriage.” The man said.

The debt? The contract? Everything? Paid?

The glimmer of excitement popped. The red robe. He must have been that youngster’s servant or something. Most likely, he bought her to be his concubine.

But a concubine didn’t have to take on clients.

Better than a prostitute.

Maybe if she asked nicely, she could ask for A-Yao to learn cultivation…

“Of course, please give me half a sichen.” She bowed again. Her throat closed up.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

Meng Shi’s hands flew on the guqin. The melody bright, full of scales and chords, forcing her arms to run up and down the entirety of the instrument. Sweat trickled down her spine. Above the fast-paced song, murmurs among the crowd hummed in the background.

And then a pause, before she started the remix, a softer, sweeter tune than the first set of verses she played.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The youngster cultivator ended up to be older than she was, revealing himself to be Sect Leader Wen.

He had no interest in making her his concubine.  

Instead, he had A-Yao immediately swept away to join the other junior cultivators. And herself, a two-story house within Nightless City, with two servants, and an allowance.

Meng Shi waited with baited breath for the ‘but.’ When Sect Leader Wen announced it, he easily read her.  

“All talent should be part of my sect. Why should I let anyone else snatch your son up?” The response came with another of his sharp-toothed smiles.

Well… as long as A-Yao wasn’t in any danger…

That was it. Right? A-Yao studied cultivation under the banners of the greatest Sect in the cultivation world. She no longer had to take clients to bring food to the table. And she bought Sisi’s contract as well.

But her hands itched.

“The Gusu Lan Sect’s expertise is in musical cultivation,” A-Yao mentioned offhandedly once, among a tirade of other information about the Great Sects.

An idea popped like a firecracker. At the very least, she would have fun for an evening if it didn’t go as planned.

~~~

The Wen Clan had more than enough money to throw at almost any form of entertainment while juggling the expenses of running the biggest sect there was without a hitch. Every couple of evenings, entertainers would perform for the clan in their private dining room. Guests, lucky enough to be invited, often came back with stories such as the one time Madame Wen paid a troupe of fire-breathing acrobats to accompany an announcement of her pregnancy. By coincidence, A-Yao befriended First Master Wen Xu and had been invited to dine with the main branch more than a handful of times. He mentioned Sect Leader Wen paid musicians this time around.

Asking permission to play one song on the guqin on that nights proved to be quite easy: certainly helped to slip a bag of coins to the troupe leader and flutter her eyelashes.

She prepared like she would for work, excluding the ruffling of fabric and sewing of her sleeves so they would hitch up whenever she twisted her wrist. With her guqin in its silk sleeve, she slipped into the room, earning a nod from the musicians and a confused stare by the bodyguard Wen Zhuliu.  

“It’s just a performance. Don’t worry.” She whispered to him, placing a manicured finger to her lips.

It earned her more blinking, but he let her in.

Servants milled about the never-ending sea of tables in the private dining hall. Members of the Wen clan with their flame robes sat in sections, eating and talking, passing and turning the revolving trays filled to the brim with soups, meats, and noodles. And at the back of the room, on an elevated platform, the main branch with their fiery collars towered above the rest. And A-Yao.

He quickly noticed her presence, followed by Sect Leader Wen. A raised eyebrow, but she only bowed in his direction before taking a seat where the musicians set up.

Straight back, head angled, guqin propped on the carpeted. And she played.

It was a melody she composed many years ago. Sweet like the lychee she peeled for A-Yao, sprinkled with a little Yunmeng spice she could afford once a year.

The piece came to an end to a silent room. Disciples and elders alike all watched her with mesmerized gazes. And then the clapping began.

~~~

“An excellent performance; I didn’t hear such quality for many years.” Sect Leader Wen mentioned the following day. On purpose, Meng Shi escorted A-Yao to his classes, something she hadn’t done since the first six months of their arrival. And as she prepared to leave, Sect Leader Wen materialized behind her.

Meng Shi bowed, “many thanks to Sect Leader.” She clutched her sleeves to not flick her wrists.

Sect Leader Wen tilted his head, “but I’m guessing you didn’t perform just for fun.”

Meng Shi returns a smile, “I was hoping to showcase my abilities, so Sect Leader may consider allowing me to continue my music study?”

“Oh?~” A pause as Sect Leader Wen tapped under his chin, most likely pondering the matter, “This year, the Gusu Lan Sect will host a discussion conference. Perhaps you wish to come with Meng Yao?”

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The music ended. A long chord held with crescendoing trills before drifting off into oblivion. Only its echo remained in the quiet hall.

Unlike the private dining hall of the Wen clan, the Lan Sect clapped quietly—crisp and polite.

Even A-Yao matched their volume and rhythm, though she could read his posture to be restless with how wide his grin spread on his face and how the muscles in his hands twitched.

Meng Shi saluted, signaling the end of her examination

Lan Qiren, acting Sect Leader, gave a single curt nod. Perhaps it was just the light, but she swore he wore a tiny twitch of a smile, “The examiners and I will return once we have our verdict.”

Even with the budding...relationship? between them, she was sure Lan Qiren would judge her purely on merit and performance.

An incense stick later, with a smile no longer hidden, he announced:

She passed.

[ct7567329]

Everything I’ve Ever Wanted: Hevy x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Female Reader, Probably the 2nd worst thing I’ve ever written. 

Word Count: 4.1k (Sorry)

It was another rainy day on Kamino and you found yourself twisting around a small piece of fabric between your fingers as you leaned over the training arena. While other padawans got to explore the galaxy, study holocrons or improve their saber skills, you were stuck on Kamino overlooking the training of clones. You couldn't imagine a worse way to go through apprenticeship but it wasn'tymour choice. Shaak Ti chose you as a padawan, and you had to obey her wishes.

Quickly, your master realized you were a trouble maker. She would always tell you how much you reminder her of late Jedi Master Rael Averross, but she never bothered to explain what that entailed. The only detail she shared was that it meant you were always up for a challenge, which is why she assigned you to help the Domino Squad out.

At a first glance, the Domino Squad seemed like a typical squad of clones. But they acted more like bickering brothers rather than brothers in arms. A typical day of their additional training you provided was usually late night bonding, not necessarily fighting tactics. The boys didn't seem to mind this, except one. CT-782.

CT-782 was the most stubborn clone you've ever met. He refused to have a name other than his CT number, which you constantly told him wouldn't fly with any general. CT-782, of course, didn't care.

One night, you decided a game of 'Who's most likely to?' as a bonding exercise.

CT-782 picked up a card and read it aloud, "Who's most likely to pierce their own ear? This game is kriffing bantha shit!" He flung the card across the room, "How's this going to help us," he passed for a moment before bitterly muttering the last word, "padawan?"

You rested your elbow on your knee and pressed your palm into your forehead, sighing, "Your final test is in three days. This is my last session with you guys. Can you please, please for once take my considerations?" CT-782 got on your last nerve,  but something about that drove you crazy inside, in an almost lusty fashion.

"On behalf of all of us, Commander, we deeply apologize for CT-782's unkind words towards you," Cutup said, giving you a look of sorrow.

Figuring you could make a lesson out of this, you replied,  "You control and dictate your lives and those of the people around you. Remember, when you are cast out to war, you have each other. Don't do something you know can effect your brothers in a negative way. Back when I was a youngling, my squad would always say 'teamwork makes the dreamwork'. Now, I'm sure you've all dreamed of being an ARC Trooper. Well, ARC Troopers always respect and care for those around them, especially their brothers. Remember that boys, because once you master that, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, you all have ARC Trooper capabilities."

This made all of the men smile, except for CT-782 of course.

"Oh yeah. Coax us with dreaming of being an ARC Trooper right before deployment. I guarantee you sweetheart, we'll all be dead within three fights. Just like the rest of us," CT-782 huffed, his arms crossed, "If you're a Jedi, then why can't you give us real training. Something that will actually help us become ARC troopers."

You weren't going to win with him, "You treat everything so heavy. I promise you, everything I've done has done something. Take everything I say with a grain of salt and I promise, you'll end up exactly where you need to be.

Three days later, CT-782 was convinced you've lied to him. Watching the Domino Squad fail their final test pained you. You looked at your master with sorrow in your eyes, "My Padawan, inform the Domino Squad they will be allowed to try again tomorrow."

You nodded, "Of course, Master."

When you made it to their barracks, it was completely empty. Not a single sign of the Domino Squad. Figuring they were eating in the mess or something like that, you left a holopad on all of their bunks with the message from your Master, along with some words of encouragement, personalized for each guy. It was the least you could do.

Later that night, you returned on their barracks to leave another holopad with good luck in their lockers. As you turned the corner to their allotted locker area, you found CT-782 digging through his locker.

"Going somewhere?" you asked, clearly startling him.

He sighed when his eyes met yours, "As far away from here as possible."

You pressed your lips together, "I should report you, but I don't want to do that to you. Here sit down." You patted the bench that was in the middle of their locker area. He was hesitant, but he agreed and sat down next to you.

"Why aren't we good enough?" he asked, setting his Z-6 blaster on the ground, "we all get the same training."

"You could give one thousand men the same training, but you will never have those thousand men fight the same way." you calmly stated, crossing your legs, "Every squad has a different dynamic."

He grunted, "And ours clearly isn't up to your expectations."

"Hevy," you sighed, "I promise you, you all have amazing potential. I wouldn't lie about that."

CT-782 cocked his head, "What?"

"I said you all have amazing potent-"

"No before that," he interrupted you.

You thought back to what you said, "Every squad had a different dynamic?"

"No after that."

"I'm confused?"

He rolled his eyes, "You called me Hevy?"

Then it clicked, "Ohh! That's what General Ti and I call you. We prefer to give our troopers names."

"Hevy, huh?" he huffed, "I think I actually like that. Makes it more special since you gave it to me."

You hummed stiffly between your lips, "So you don't hate me."

He paused. "Why do you have faith in us? In me?"

"Because you're an amazing person, Hevy, inside and out," you answered without thinking.

You didn't realize what you said until Hevy's cheeks became slightly flustered. "I need to go. Good luck tomorrow," you quickly covered yourself up, heading out of the barracks. Hevy remained sitting on the bench, stunned with what he just heard. But now wasn't the time to let feelings getting the way of the upcoming test.

The next morning, you were staring down at the testing arena, eyes locked on the entry way. The Domino Squad was next in line to test. When they finally entered the arena, you stiffened up, anxious of what was soon to come. What usually was a jumble of blaster fire and running into each other was actually an impressive display of skills. For once, it seemed as if the boys were actually fighting together, not just as individuals.

And moments later, Hevy pulled the citadel buzzer out of its place. They actually passed. You felt the weight of not knowing their future slide off your shoulders. They kriffing did it. Hevy ripped off his helmet and looked up at the observation deck, making eye contact, then playfully saluting you. You smiled in response, and gave him a loose salute back.

Later that night, you met up with the Domino Squad in their barracks to congratulate them with their medals. Slowly, you pinned each medal to their cadet uniform.

"I'm proud of you all," you announced, "I'm certain you will accomplish amazing things. I'm probably standing in front of some future ARC troopers."

Hevy and Fives beamed with joy at the mention of them possibly beaming ARCs in the future.

"Don't get too lonely here without us!" Echo chimed in, "We will all miss you greatly."

You brought you hand up to your mouth to try to conceal you soft smile, "I'm leaving too, you know. Off to help command the 212th legion. Which reminds me, I have a meeting soon with General Kenobi. Again, congratulations boys," you began to walk away, "Until we meet again!"

The boys sighed, knowing they would probably never see you again. Hevy wasn't ready for that. Hours later, when the boys were winding down for bed, he snuck out of his bunk and wandered the halls of his home. As he was walking, he realized that he actually didn't know where the Jedi stayed. His head quickly turned to a corridor. You were down there, he felt it.

After taking a deep breath, he opened knocked on the door he believed to be yours. It was a gentle knock, but loud enough for you to hear on the inside.

The knock on the door threw you off guard for a moment. You hastily got up off your bed and sat at your desk, turning on a random holopad. After you felt as if you looked 'presentable enough' for the unknown knocker, you used the force to open the door. A small "huh?" escaped your lips as you saw it was Hevy there.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" you asked as Hevy entered the room, hitting the close button behind him, "what brings you in here?"

Hevy shrugged, "I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

"Take a seat," you offered, pointing to your couch. He was fast to take up that offer. You continued, "I do recall saying, 'Until we meet again'."

"That's true," he nodded, "I just-"  Hevy opened his mouth to continue, then shut it, then opened again, nothing coming out. "I'm sorry," was all he managed to say.

"For?"

"Treating you like Bantha breath. No one deserves that, especially you." Hevy bit the inside of his cheek and looked down, mumbling the next sentence, "I was just intimidated."

You raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

Hevy sighed, "It'sHardToBeTheToughGuyWhenYou'reSurroundedBySuchABeautifulGirl." His words were quick, almost impossible to decipher.

"What now?" you hummed, leaning in closer to him to try to hear better.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly, but still bluntly.

Your face went pale as he started to exhale slowly. His eyes glanced up to meet yours. You saw through him. Reality hit you. The next day, Hevy ships out, shiny and new. The most vulnerable of the clones. You didn't know where he would end up, but truthfully, the chances he'd live to see many more days were painfully low.

Jedi weren't forbidden from kissing. They were forbidden from emotional attachment. What would mean nothing to you, would mean everything to him.

Why not give this soldier the experience of his lifetime?

You reached out towards his sleep tunic and grabbed some fabric in your fist, pulling him in for a kiss. It wasn't long, but it felt eternal. Hevy gasped before the kiss, shocked you actually were okay with it. When you pulled back he had a blank face. He was off the walls ecstatic that it actually happened but devastated it was over.

Hevy tried to speak but he was still tongue tied, completely in awe of the taste of your lips on his.

"You have a big day a head of you. Go get some sleep," you smiled, waiting for him to exit.

"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," he whispered, slowly backing out of your room, "you've been nothing but kind to me."

You shrugged, "Not too late to change that."

He stared at you in silence, softly nibbling on his lip. "I couldn't have been half the solider I am today with out you."

"Well," you sighed as Hevy stepped out of your quarters. He turned his head to acknowledge your words. You continued, "May the force be with you out there, Hevy. Cause I won't!" you winked, closing your door.

You paced back to your bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling.

Jedi can kiss without attachment! One kiss couldn't hurt, right?

Oh, you were so wrong.

Three Months Later

"General?" Commander Cody's voice buzzed through your com link.

"Cody!" you cheered, "So glad to hear your voice. What's going on?"

Just hours prior, the outpost Cody was sent to inspect, completely exploded. The second you got word of what happened, you knew Grievous was behind it, and you were worried over the status of your commander.

"You worry too much General," he laughed, "but I have some soldiers in the medbay who want to speak to you. They told me not to tell you their names."

"Huh. Weird," you shrugged, "I'll be on my way. If any of them were in that blast with you, I think I owe them a drink when we get to Coruscant."

It didn't take you long to get to the medbay. Though the Jedi cruiser was large, you always managed to quickly navigate the halls. You entered the medbay and looked for Cody. Cody was no where to be found. You walked into one of the private outpatient rooms and your eyes caught glimpse of other soldiers you recognized, even though they weren't in the 212th.

"Either I'm on death sticks or that's the Domino Squad!" you laughed, approaching them. They were all gathered around a single cot. The men turned their heads and smiled at the sight of you. That's when you realized that Hevy was the trooper on the cot.

"It was you crazy baffoons that blew up the Rishi Moon station!? Why am I not surprised?" your attention shifted to Hevy, "what happened to you?"

Hevy pulled down his blanket slightly and lifted up his left arm, which wasn't much of an arm anymore. What was his arm was gone, and replaced with a cybernetic arm. "It's nothing pretty, but at least they gave me a hand," he mumbled, pulling the blanket back up over his new arm.

You spent hours chatting with the dominos. It was obvious they missed having you by their side, but you reassured them, it was even more obvious that they are doing perfectly fine without you. As the later night hours approached, the dominos slowly left the room one by one until you were alone with Hevy.

Fives was the last to leave, and as soon as he did, the room fell silent. Hevy was scratching softly at his thigh with his good hand.

"General," he finally said, turning his head towards you.

"You can call me (Y/N)," you quickly interrupted, looking towards him.

He paused and pressed his back against the inclined cot. Even a pin drop could be heard in the room.

"I keep thinking about it," he finally said, his eyes looking at his lap.

You cocked your head, "about what?"

"It," he repeated, still gazing at his lap.

Oh. He was thinking about it. That kiss. That innocent kiss which you thought would be nothing more than make a man you would never see again happy. That.

"Me too," you mumbled, "Me kriffing too."

His glance shot in your direction. You sensed this and did the same.

"(Y/N)," he exhaled, his words full of lust.

As if you were a droid and it was your programming to do so, you stood up from the chair next to his cot and walked over to him. You slid your hand down his still human arm and settled your hand in his.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," you said again, "More than a Jedi should admit."

He shot you a passionate look and did that darn lip nibble again. As if his eyes requested you too do so, you pushed yourself onto the cot and straddled over him, sitting on his lap. As you did so, he cupped your cheek in his hand and sighed.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" he whispered.

You took a deep breath before answering, "I'm not sure, but as long as we keep going, I don't think I care."

One Year Later

Hevy was playing a card game with some of the other men in the 501st, talking about their plans at 79's later that evening when his Captain, Rex, burst into the barracks.

"Anyone holding the rank of Sergeant or higher, or any ARC's, meet me in the briefing room immediately. That is all."

Rex left the room as quickly as he came in, leaving dozens of puzzled looks behind him. Hevy adjusted his ARC pauldron and walked with the rest of the called upon men to the briefing room. Upon arriving there, the usually lit room was dark, the only thing lighting it up was the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his General, Anakin Skywalker. Hevy noticed that typically, you were by Kenobi's side Turing holotransmissions. He hasn't seen you in two whole years, but the feelings he had towards you were still there. Not seeing you in the transmission made his heart clench. He had a bad feeling about this.

"We regret to inform you all of the passing of Jedi General (Y/N) (Y/LN). We understand (Y/N) was well respected throughout many legions. We wanted to inform the ranked soldiers first."

Hevy's heart sank. You were gone. There were so many things he wanted to say to you that he would never get the opportunity to. The Jedi reported you missing months ago, but at that point, Hevy wasn't too worried. He knew you were strong enough to survive on your own. But dead, that didn't sit well with him. Hevy was fast to get back to the barracks, where he sat on his bunk in silence. He didn't want to go to 79's that night. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, he could wake up from this nightmare.

Hevy was awoken around 0100 to yelling from outside the barracks. He got up off his bunk to find the barracks empty. It seems as if everyone else went to 79's. The yelling got louder and was understandable the closer he got to the barracks door.

"It's not fair! Not to anyone!" Anakin screamed at his master.

"Anakin, the council did what they must." Obi-Wan responded, trying to calm him down, "(Y/N) is in a safer place."

Anakin grunted, "And we must lie to everyone? Tell everyone she's dead?! Rex said Cody is devastated. Is that fair?! Why can't they know the truth?!"

From that point on, the conversation was too muffled to hear more but it was all Hevy needed to hear.

The Next Morning

"Echo, I need your help," Hevy asked his brother, who was peacefully eating his breakfast.

"If it's about (Y/N) I'm upset too," Echo responded, "but we have an important campaign on Ryloth soon and-"

"Please," Hevy begged, motioning Echo away from his food.

Echo shoved the remaining food in his mouth and followed Hevy, "What is it?"

Hevy nodded his head towards Echo's cybernetic arm that he acquired after a rough mission at the Citadel, "You can tap into the data base with that, right?"

Nodding slowly, Echo inserted his arm into a data port, "What do you need?"

"Open up any information on (Y/N). If it's password protected, try 408588463003. Those are the coordinates of her home planet. "

"I should question why you know that," Echo laughed, but his laugh soon turned to dead silence. "Oh my kriff," he muttered, leaning back on his heels, "she's alive."

"Where can I find her?" Hevy gasped, almost shaking Echo impatiently.

Echo was going to ask why, but truthfully, he was too hungover to worry. All he knew is that this would be his little secret with Hevy, "I think you already know. 408588463003."

"Thank you, brother," he nodded before rushing off. Neither Hevy nor Echo knew, that would be the last time they would see each other for a while.

-

Stealing a ship wasn't easy, but if it had to be done, Hevy knew how to do it. It didn't take him long to find a ship that wasn't only easy enough to steal, but neutral enough to fly into Separatist space undetected. With the push of a new buttons, he was on his way to find the truth. He was on his way to Serenno.

Hevy has never been to Serenno before. Besides, why would he? It has been Separatist controlled since the beginning of the war. But, with its location being deep in Separatist space, it wasn't too hard to land on the planet. Hevy followed his heart, which led him to a wooded area, far from any civilization.

As he exited the small ship, he looked around for any signs of life. Surprisingly, he almost missed the most obvious sign, a door built into the mountain side. Without hesitation, he knocked.

You were bundled up in some blankets on the couch in your home. It's been almost a year since the Jedi Council sent you back to your home planet. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you understood why. Jedi couldn't get pregnant, yet there you were. You were given only two days to leave the temple and escape to Serenno, alone. Well, except for the medical droid the council was kind enough to provide for you.

For the first time all day, you finally managed to find some peace and quiet. If there was one thing you learned while raising twins, it was that there is never a dull moment. There was a knock on the door. No one ever can out here. You rushed to your children's room and locked it, making sure who ever was at the door wouldn't have access to them. Before opening the door, you draped a blanket over your shoulders to hide your lightsaber you kept on your belt.

Cautiously, you opened the door and nearly screamed at who you saw.

"How the KRIFF did you get out here?!" you yelled, pulling Hevy by the shirt into your house, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Before he could answer, the cried of two babies filled the house. "Great!" you groaned, "the kids are awake!"

About a hundred questions swirled through Hevy's mind. "Kids?" he asked, following you into their bedroom. "Since when did you-" he stopped when he saw the two infants, "Why do they look like me?"

"Very funny Hevy," you huffed, "very-" you paused, "wait. No one ever told you."

Hevy raised an eyebrow, "No one ever told me what? Just two day ago, I was informed you were dead. About a year ago, I was told you went MIA!"

You deeply sighed and picked up your daughter and son, handing your daughter to Hevy. He reluctantly took the baby from you, this was his first time holding an infant. Hevy sat on the floor with your daughter while you sat on a rocking chair with your son.

"What other lies did the council tell you?" you huffed, rocking your son back and forth.

Hevy bit his cheek, "With all due respect, Gener-, I mean (Y/N), I have no idea what's going on."

That's when you explained everything to him. How on that night after the Rishi Moon Outpost explosion, you and Hevy made a decision that would hinder your relations with the Jedi Order forever.  How the Jedi sent you to Serenno to try to protect you and your children. How the Jedi lied about your whereabouts to hide the secret. How these children where in fact his, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Hevy brushed his thumb against the little girl's, his little girl's, cheek as she slept peacefully in his arms. You smiled at the father daughter moment, the first father daughter moment.

"You can stay if you like," you finally said, "they are your children just as much as they are mine. And besides, they wouldn't exist if I didn't feel something towards you."

He slowly looked up, away from his daughter and towards you, "You mean that?"

You nodded, "Yeah, and we can pick up where we left off. Right before our paths separated for what I long thought would be the last time."

"I regret every rude thing I said to you on Kamino and I-"

"Hey," you hushed, "I know. But that's history. This is now. The present." You stood up from the rocking chair and sat next to Hevy, resting your head on his shoulder. "You know, nothing about us is conventional, but I think it might work."

Three Years Later

"Uncle Fives is going to get you!" Fives screamed, chasing your children around in the yard. After the Clone War ended in victory, you and Hevy decided to disclose your location to the rest of the Dominos, and they were more than happy to move in with you two. Echo insisted he only did it to be with his niece and nephew but Hevy knew it was because Echo missed his brother.

"Aghhh!" Fives laughed, throwing his nephew over his shoulder, "gotcha!"

You and Hevy watched Fives run around with your children while you cooked dinner.  Hevy rested his head on your shoulder from behind and swayed back and forth.

"Hun stop!" you giggled, "I have to cook."

"I know," he smiled, "I'm just happy. And everything is exactly how I could have ever wanted it to be."

@ganondorf-has-greasy-balls @lightning-wolffe @jedi-dreea @smells_sharpies @hannahjessica113 @gryffindorqueensworld @coffeeandtodd @soclonely @raf-loves-everything @peacelandbread @persaloodles @clone-lover501-212-104 @ahsoka-padme @dangerdumpling @808tsuika @ahsokatano-thetogruta @marvel-starwars-nerd @katelynnwrites @youmaynowdothething

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (Cavern Creeps)

SUMMARY: Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he?  PART 8) Douxie is not having a good time, Nari is not having a good time, no one is having a good time.          start -> (part 1)  next -> (part 9) WARNINGS: swearing, lots of panic and anxiety, anxiety attack WORD COUNT: 2420 A/N: it’s becoming increasingly clear that i do not have any control over where the plot goes in this fic. i never have and i never will. seriously the outline prompt for this one was ‘some downtime in trollmarket’ idk what happened

Douxie opened his eyes. He had been having a dream in which he was lost in a series of caves. No matter how many walls he marked to keep track, he couldn’t remember which way he came from. The marks kept disappearing. He’d etch them with all his strength, and they would fade. The tunnels were endless. He was sure he was too far underground now. The oxygen was getting thin. He had to find the way back up. He had to. The others were waiting for him. His chest got tighter, his breaths shallower. Why was this so hard?

Turns out both Y/n and Archie were sleeping on his chest. No wonder dream-him couldn’t breathe. He wouldn’t move them. The gentle snores filled his ears. It was still late, or more, early. Doux wouldn’t be able to breathe well enough to go back to sleep without another strange dream, so he didn’t try. That was okay. He got a solid three hours in, and that was better than most nights. He felt relaxed in the embrace of his small family. Douxie listened to their breathing. It was cozy, snuggled with the two people who mean the most to him, feeling their heartbeats against his own chest. This is how it would always be, just the three of them. Three magic signatures. No one else in the room. Wait.

Douxie tried his best to keep from waking Y/n and Archie when he bolted upright. He failed. Y/n groggily took in her husband as his panicked gaze shot around the room. She didn’t know why he was panicked but it made her panicked. Y/n also looked around the room to help despite not knowing what she was looking for. Douxie gently nudged her off and moved Archie so he could stand up. Y/n reached her hand up to him, silently asking to be pulled up and Douxie obliged. As she stood to her feet, Y/n got another look around, taking in the whole of the room. Now slightly more awake, the gears turned and she realized what was wrong with the scene. Nari.

Bleeding balroths, they lost the veggie lady. The one person they were supposed to keep close, protect form the Order, or the fucking world will end, and they lost her. Granted, they were asleep when it happened, but still. They lost her. Douxie and Y/n burst out of the door with Archie in tow. Douxie had hoped Nari would have just been in the living room but nope he couldn’t be that lucky. Figures. He could feel his racing heart in his throat as the impact of what was happening settled in his chest.

Douxie quick as lightning scanned all of Trollmarket that his eyes could see. Nari was nowhere to be found. He could barely hear Y/n and Archie start calling out the forest spirit’s name above the incredibly loud screaming inside his head. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Merlin was going to kill him. The Arcane order wasn’t even going to get the chance to end the world before Merlin’s ghost strangled him right here and now.

They were running through the streets of the village, asking every troll they came across if they’d seen her. No luck. Archie couldn’t find her as he flew over either. Douxie kept checking shops over and over, despite Y/n telling him they’d been in every building already and he was looking like a madman. He was a madman. Dictatious was not any help. Beyond seeing the veggie lady leave the house, and not caring enough to alert Doux, he had no idea where she might be. At least now they knew she’d only been out for a little over half an hour. She couldn’t have left the settlement, could she? Could she? Douxie felt ice water flow into his veins.

A quick check of inventory and sure enough, no horngazzle. Oh, fuzzbuckets. FUZZBUCKETS! Y/n went off to acquire another horngazzle from Bagdwella, sprinting across the town, and leaving Douxie alone with his thoughts. The world was gonna end soon, and it would be all his fault. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the forest child. He had a feeling she was going to have been his downfall, he just hadn’t expected it so soon, or like this.

It’s over. The Arcane Order will win. The universe will be destroyed. He will have failed the one thing he was supposed to be doing. He had one job. Merlin’s last dying wish. And he had botched it. His short reign as a master wizard would be incapsulated by failure. This was his fault. He started taking risks, he stopped listening to Merlin, he stopped studying, he started making his own path, and now he was gonna take everyone else down with him.

Douxie saw Y/n blast out of the shop and head towards the grand entrance gate. His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t breathe again, even though he didn’t have both a wife and a dragon weighing his ribcage down this time. He felt his own feet carrying him the direction of the gate to meet Y/n but barely registered the scenery going by in a blur. Doux barely registered Archie land on his shoulder and the dragon claws digging into his flesh as he watched Y/n drag the magic key across the cavern wall in an arch. If it had been any other time he would have enjoyed the cute little way she did it. She was like a ballerina, leaping as she made the motion. It was an effort to make the door taller so Doux could walk through it without hitting his head, and it worked. Good thing too, as he wasn’t paying enough attention to not when he absent-mindedly ran past her and out of the gate like he was on fire.

When Y/n caught up to the other two, Douxie was huffing and puffing hunched over while Archie made an effort to fan his brother with his wings. The dragon cool-off was not entirely effective. Douxie wildly tossed his head around as he visually searched the area around the river and bridge. His pupils were wide with fear. As scary as this was, it pained Y/n to see him scared like this. She knew he struggled with anxiety, and had even seen his attacks before, but this was amped up to an eleven. She didn’t like it.

As desperate as they were, with the time ticking away, Y/n decided what was best was to calm Douxie down before they did anything else. She pulled him close into her embrace, letting him rest his head on her chest. Her steady heartbeat was bringing him slightly back down to earth.

“Shhhh, I’m here.” Y/n rubbed comforting circles on his back. “Can you look up for me?” It took a moment, but Douxie managed to grant her request. His hazel eyes were still blown wide, haunted. “Good, good. Let’s take some deep breaths. Okay, can you tell me five things you can see?”

Douxie shifted, looking beyond Y/n’s back. “Uh,- river,, trash, in river,,- tree, other trees,, Archie, you.”

“Okay, four things you can feel?”

He breathing was starting to go back to its regular pace. “You,, your hands on my back,, Archie rubbing my legs- the wind.”

“Good. Three you can hear?”

Douxie straightened, his voice sounding a lot calmer, “the wind in the trees, the water in the river, Archie purring.”

This prompted Archie to purr louder in support. “You good now or do you need to smell?” Y/n chuckled.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine now.” Douxie smiled, albeit weakly. Y/n gave him another grounding hug for good measure. She looked past his shoulder as she squeezed, something catching her eye. She let go of her wizard and started off towards the trees behind him.

“Where are you going?” Y/n was a bit worried about how strained Douxie’s voice still was.

“Well,” She turned around to face him and gestured her hands as she spoke, “If I was a forest goddess, where would I be? The forest of course.” She motioned to the treeline. Yeah, she was right. That made sense. He caught up and grabbed her hand for her to guide him to wherever they were going. He needed to hold her hand. It was her left hand, he could feel the cool metal of the ring on her finger. That helped.

They desperately wandered through the trees with no luck. It’s not like they had a veggie lady tracking device. They should get a veggie lady tracking device. Perhaps disguised as a bracelet cuff. She’d like that it was similar to Douxie, so she’d actually wear it. Or maybe they’d just get one of those baby leashes. Bad little forest goddesses have to wear the baby leash of shame. Maye she wouldn’t mind it, if it was shaped like a teddy bear or something. They’d cross that bridge when they got there. Once they found her. If the Arcane Order hadn’t got to her first.

The couple passed so many trees they started to all look the same. Oak, river birch, river birch, oak, sugar maple, oak, oak, oak, river birch. Every now and then there would be a troll carving on a tree or a rock, that they could use as landmarks, but they still had no idea where they were anymore. Thankfully, it was impossible to get lost with Archie around. Speak of the devil, the black dragon appeared through the trees again, calling them over to follow him.

The cat-dragon led them along many twists and turns in the forest. Every now and then Y/n would catch glimpse of a deer trail, but no signs of humans. Douxie accidentally bumped his head on a tree branch because Y/n had pulled him along so fast he didn’t have time to duck. Okay, so Doux didn’t accidentally bump his head as much as Y/n had accidentally made him. It wasn’t that low. She had had no trouble with it herself. It wasn’t her fault he was a giant. He should think of that next time before becoming over six foot. After what seemed like a lifetime, the started approaching a small tributary of the river. A small tributary that a small forest goddess was kneeling beside.

“NARI!” Y/n couldn’t help but cry out in relief at the sight of Nari safe and sound. The loudness of Y/n’s voice startled the veggie lady, and she whipped her head around to see the others as the joined her. Nari’s expression of surprise quickly morphed into one of guilt, like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. While neither of them looked particularly angry at her, she thought Hisirdoux was a little worse for wear. She supposed she’d caused that. She was always causing trouble for others it seemed. Just in the last week she’d gotten two homes destroyed, several humans injured, and worst of all, Merlin was gone now. It was all her fault.

Nari wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down her face until Y/n was wiping them away. She had crouched down to comfort the little spirit, “Hey, hey now, it’s okay, none of us are mad. We were just really scared for a bit there. But its alright, Nari. We’re just happy you’re safe.”

The forest child tucked her face into the crook of Y/n’s shoulder. Douxie stood a distance away. Archie was perched on his shoulder once again. He shifted between his feet, feeling the soft earth and wet grass of the riverside. Doux couldn’t shake a certain feeling of uneasiness and his familiar sensed his anxious energy. He had his staff raised and all ready to go if the trees so much as shake in the wind. Nothing happened. But he was ready.

He knew it was irrational, but Douxie couldn’t help but feel like they were near. The Order. Something was off in the air. They needed to get Nari back underground fast. However, he was worried that such a thing wouldn’t stop them, and he would just be damning the trolls and their new happy settlement. He hadn’t been too sure before about the plans Y/n had for tomorrow, but now he was. They would be safer if they got to a heavily populated area. It would mask their scent. They had lingered in Trollmarket for far too long now. They would be overstaying their welcome big time if the Arcane Order showed up.

Once Nari had calmed down quite a lot and the tears had long stopped flowing, Y/n wanted to get to the bottom of the reasons for this little late-night escapade. She fixed a braid on the side of Nari’s hair as she asked, “Can you tell me why you decided to come out here.” She was careful not to word it accusatively, lest she upset the poor frightened spirit further.

“I- I needed to get out from there. It’s so cold. There’s no stars down there. The air doesn’t move.”

Y/n nodded to express her sympathy. “I understand.” She really did. Trolls were great, but the underground vibes just weren’t for everyone. It was easy to feel trapped in Trollmarket. Like the world was weighing you down. The cavern over your head going to collapse at any moment. She stood to her feet, waiting a beat before asking, “Do you think you can go back down there for a little while longer? I promise we’ll come back outside in the morning.”

Nari looked up and smiled, taking Y/n’s hand as she helped her up, “Yes. I think I’m ready to go back now. For just a little while longer.”

~ ~ ~

Once they were all safe and sound back in Trollmarket, Y/n was relived. It was early morning by then, and the sun was rising outside, but they still had enough time to get a few more hours in. She looked up at her husband. Bags under his eyes as always, she didn’t think he’d be able to fall back to sleep after all this, actually. A few more hours of cuddle time, then. They passed by the pub on their way home. That could help ease poor Doux. Y/n nudged him with her shoulder, “Wanna go get a pint or two?”

Douxie chuckled, “Nah, I’m not one for glug. It’s a tad too gamey for me.”

“How bout we make some chamomile tea once we get home then?”

“Oh, that sounds heavenly.”

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-7: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation [3rd Beta Test]

*Light and Night Master-list is under WIP *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Game is slated for release this summer! (Estimated to be 8/8/21) *Evan brainrot... meet Evan!! ( TωT )ｳｯ… *Beta Test’s main story tag will be #Dreams of Light and Night

Osborn hadn’t been lying. The police soon returned us all missing artefacts not long after.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was already late at night when I left the venue after having placed the finishing touches on my work.

I’d just gotten back to the country, so I didn’t have time to properly go apartment hunting. Not to mention that the competition deadline was close, so all I could do was to rent a small apartment near where granny’s shop used to be. Although it was located on the outskirts of the City, it was still an area that I was familiar with.

MC: I wonder if granny would be happy for me, knowing that I entered the finals if she were still here...

The night breeze blew pleasantly, gently rustling the trees. It was as if the world was giving me an answer from the beyond.

Suddenly, the unmistakable, yet faintly discernible sound of footsteps sounded behind me.

I turned around. The moonlight shone down upon the alley, the surroundings were deathly silent, and there was no one else here but my shadow.

MC: Am I just imagining it?

I picked up my pace, heading towards the train station.

Not even a few seconds later, the sound of footsteps continued again. This time clearer and more concisely.

I tried slowing down, finding that those footsteps also followed suit. I sped up, panicking as it did the same.

… Am I being followed!? I could feel the cold sweat start to bead.

Passing the road mirror, I saw that there were a couple of men standing not too far off. The cigarettes between their fingers glowed faintly red in the darkness of the night.

Damn it! I'm still a ways away from the train station! I'm surrounded by alleys… What should I do?

Should I call the police? But it's me against quite the number. Besides, I'll be risking my own safety if I do something as rash as contacting the police. Doing so might just be enough provocation for them to spring on me.

MC: Good lord. I'm facing problems even at night! What's up with my luck today!?

My heart raced, but I didn't dare to stop, nor turn back to look at whoever was following me.

All I can do right now is to try and maintain neutrality and act natural whilst looking around to see if there are any nearby shops open.

Thud, thud, thud. 

The footsteps coming after me from behind gradually sped up—

MC: !!!

❖☆———————————★❖

The melodious sound of windchimes graced my ears along with bright lights. A cafe stood in the silent night.

The night wind blew against the sweaty bangs that had stuck itself to my forehead, as I could hear my heart thudding ferociously against my ribcage.

❖☆———————————★❖

Staff: Hello, what would you like to drink?

MC: Hello. I’m being followed by someone o—

??: One Americano and one Latte, please.

A polite baritone interrupted me. Startled, I looked up. I didn’t know when he came, but a young man was standing beside me,

Noticing my gaze, he responded with a gentle smile.

Staff: It's a great night out, Mr. Lu. Is she with you?

Mr. Lu: Yes.

I glanced over at him in confusion and was about to refuse him when he raised a finger to his lips.

❖☆———————————★❖

Mr. Lu: Don't refuse, don't turn back.

Mr. Lu: They’re watching.

I stiffened before realizing that he was referring to the people who had been following me. So… He’s trying to help?

I was still flighty, perhaps due to the aftereffects of my fear. I didn't quite know what to make of the stranger before me. Thus, I tried to ascertain whether he had an ulterior motive judging by the look in his eyes.

MC: ...Thanks.

❖☆———————————★❖

He shook his head, gesturing for me to take a seat with him by the side.

The shop was brightly lit, and there were many customers seated around us.

The coffee was soon served. I picked up my cup, taking a light sip from it. The mellow aroma of it truly brought one comfort. I breathed a sigh, feeling the nervous anxiousness that had been thumping wildly in my heart slowly come down from its high.

This was also when I was finally able to stop and truly contemplate the person before me.

He wore a single-breasted three-piece suit with only his tie as an accompanying piece. It was simple and made him exude just the right amount of calmness.

However, I couldn't help but feel like something was lacking.

Maybe he could still afford to add a tie pin to his assembly? Something simple would do the trick. And colour-wise...

MC: Perhaps smoky grey would be better?…

Mr. Lu: Smoky grey?

He looked at me in slight surprise. That was when I realised that I’d accidentally lapsed back into letting my bad work habits take over.

MC: Sorry. I’m actually a fashion designer. Sorry if I offended you, really. I was just looking at your suit.

I hurriedly offered him my name card. Mr. Lu accepted it, smiling all the while.

Mr. Lu: Don't worry about it.

Mr. Lu: Rather, what were you talking about when you said smoky grey…?

MC: A tie pin.

Mr. Lu: So, I'm taking it that I'm missing a smoky grey-coloured tie pin?

MC: Uh, yes… or that's what I personally think, at least.

Mr. Lu: What type would you think works best?

MC: Huh?

He wasn’t mad at all. Instead, he was questioning me further about it with utmost sincerity.

He wasn’t being overly enthusiastic about it. Instead, he kept a respectable distance away, giving me space to breathe and not making me feel awkward or uncomfortable about it.

MC: A clip-on pin. The most normal-looking one will do the trick.

Mr. Lu: I see. Thank you, I'll be sure to take note of it.

MC: No, no. You don’t have to, really. I just think that it’ll complement the vibe you have going on.

MC: And speaking of thanks, I really should be the one thanking you instead,

He smiled as usual, but this time with a more knowing edge to it.

Mr. Lu: You can call me Evan if you don't mind.

MC: Okay, Mr. Ev… Evan.

Man: Will you stop saying "thank you"?

Woman: Okay. Thanks for your suggestion

Evan and I both froze in unison, turning to see the screen of TV that had been mounted on the wall.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was an old movie where the male lead was a wholly independent, yet taciturn member of a crime syndicate.

He'd broken the door down to save a girl, his neighbour whom he'd only ever acknowledged through passing nods, in a moment of compassion, and had thus started living together. The movie was currently at the part where the man resignedly tries to help the girl correct her living habits.

It had only been a couple of lines, but almost every sentence had a "thank you" attached to it. The more I look at this… the more I feel like we were doing the exact same thing earlier…

Evan and I exchanged a look, unable to help the collective laughter that ensued.

❖☆————— ⊹ Dreams of Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-5) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-9)

[missmensis]

no gods, no masters, iii.

Pairing: Benny x F!Courier

read ch. 1 here, read ch. 2 here. read ch. 3 on ao3.

They were all feeling a bit beaten-up after fending off the Legion; the victory was just that, but it felt hollow. They'd be sending assassins after Ava until there were none of them left or she kicked the bucket. The latter was unlikely. She was being quiet as usual, but this quiet felt different. She wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder, a vacant stare in her eye as she did so, and her pace had slowed down considerably compared to the last few days.

The ambush had taken more of their time and energy than they'd planned, and they decided to stop at the 188 Trading Post for the night. There were a handful of NCR soldiers occupying the spot, so it'd be safer than just stopping on the side of the road or off the trail. There were no free beds to spare, but all they needed was a relatively safe place where they wouldn't have to sleep with one eye open; nobody was new to the occasional necessity of sleeping on the ground.

Once they found their own little area to hold up for the evening, the Courier sat down to rest and make a fire. They gave her some space. Boone pulled Benny aside, far enough so that Ava wouldn't hear.

"Right, so," Benny stuck his wrists out in front of Boone, "Gonna leash me back up, huh?"

Boone shook his head, "Actually, no. At least... not now, anyway. That's up to her. About today-"

"Oh, yeah," Benny chewed his lip, taking the gun out of his waistband, "Here you go."

He held it out for the other man to take, but Boone waved his hand, "Keep it. For here. Just in case."

Benny gave him a funny look, "You sure, cat?"

"Yeah," He nodded, glancing behind Benny in Ava's direction, "Just... watch her, alright? She's hurting."

"I will-" Benny moved to stick the pistol back in his pants, but not before Boone grabbed his arm.

"Take advantage, or try anything and I swear to god," Boone said, lowering his shades to look Benny straight in the eye, "I'm not far away. I will be watching, and I will put a bullet in you."

"You're gonna have to come up with a new threat," Benny replied with ire, "That one's getting stale, dig?"

"Be less of an asshole and then maybe I won't have to threaten you." Boone rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He whistled for Rex, who trotted to the sniper's side and followed along obediently to keep watch.

Boone's 10mm in hand, Benny made his way back to check on Ava. He stashed the gun in the back of his waistband again, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. At least, not tonight, anyway.

Ava was sitting in front of the small campfire she'd made, her legs splayed out in front of her, the toes of her boots tapping together to some beat only she could hear. There was a bottle of whiskey in her lap, and it looked like she was making solid headway on it.

"Hey, hey," Benny crouched down next to her, "What's shakin'?"

"Benny," She turned to him, a dazed smile on her face, "I’m trying to get drunk. Shakin' with you?"

"Ah, nothin' much," He settled down, stretching his legs out next to hers, "Gettin' smashed, huh? Can I get some of that?"

"Mmmmmhm," She hummed, handing him the bottle and watching as he took a deep swig, "It's good shit."

"It's... not bad," Benny swished it around a bit before swallowing, "Got better shit at the Tops, though."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so high and mighty at the Tops, aren't you," Ava poked him hard in the side with her finger, her eyes hazy, "'Benny's gonna show you the Tops', hah."

"Shut up," He snickered, "I did, though. The dent in that mattress was permanent."

She looked over at him, the light from the fire dancing on her features, "I remember."

It was astonishing how terrifyingly stunning she was. That handful of months ago now, when she'd been kneeling on the ground in front of him, her life flashing before her eyes, she'd just looked like a kid, nothing more than a clueless girl who had no idea what kind of package she was carrying.

How had that not been enough in itself to make him reconsider what he’d been doing at the time? He hadn't even thought twice; once he had that chip between his fingers, it was a done deal. He could've let her go, she probably wouldn't have come looking. Even the Great Khans had reservations about the whole thing, but it hadn't stopped him. Shit. He was a piece of shit, an untrustworthy fink, and he knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it.

Benny looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Benny rolled his eyes, "Good goddamn lord, woman."

"I'm fucking with you," Ava mused, "Go ahead."

"Last night in Novac. And... earlier today," Benny started carefully, "You, uh, kinda freaked. You looked really messed up."

Ava looked down at her hands, averting her gaze, "Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Ah.... yeah... so, my head does that every now and then," She answered with tight lips, "Ever since... y'know, I got a bullet to the brain from this checkered bastard I know."

"Right," He said guiltily, "Shit."

What could he say that wouldn't sound stupid or disingenuous? He'd shot her in the fucking head and now she was living with the consequences. God, there was a lot he wanted to tell her, but none of it would come out the way he wanted it to.

He sat next to her, quietly cursing himself when she spoke up again, "I get these like... migraines mixed with small bursts of panic attacks. I don't understand them. I've even asked a doc and he doesn't know. I have dreams all the time about people that I don’t recognize. I see their faces and it’s like I’m supposed to know them and I just don’t," She sighed, the heaviness of the conversation beginning to sober her, “And even when I’m awake, sometimes, I see them, too. In the back corner of a mirror, in the desert heat, they're just watching me. Like I'm riding on Daytripper in a bad way, but I'm stone-cold sober. I'm living with ghosts, Benny. People I'm supposed to know, to feel something for, but all they do is confuse me and make my head spin."

Benny frowned, "You don't remember them. Not at all?"

"No. Don't even know if they're dead or alive. It's not like anybody's come looking for me," Ava shook her head, taking a small yellow and green box out of her pocket that said MENTATS on it in rusted red lettering, "The way I see it, everyone from my past is dead, or I'm dead to them. Or I'm just not someone worth searching for."

She said it with bitterness, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to the horizon as she popped a Mentat on her tongue.

"Do they help?" Benny asked, gesturing to the box of chems as Ava rubbed her thumb across the letters.

"Kinda? I mean, everything from before Goodsprings is a blank. I haven't forgotten anybody I've met since then, but I get these, like, little flashes of moments that seem like they're mine, but they're not. At least, not mine anymore. That's when it hurts. When it turns into something like what happened today. I saw somewhere else, like here, but worse. More desolate, if you can believe that. It was like the whole place was in pain, screaming at me. Kinda think it's better that I don't remember."

She shoved the Mentats back into her pocket and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she filled herself with the dry Mojave air, "Everything before Goodsprings doesn't matter anymore, not really. Who I was before is gone. I just want to make sure I remember who I am now."

There was a beat of silence, the two of them just sitting and staring at the fire as the wind began to pick up around them. Ava tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she stared at the sun slowly making its way towards the edge of the world.

"I'll make sure you don't forget," Benny said quietly, "Been a goddamn fink to you so... I owe you that much. I'll never stop being sorry. I mean that."

Ava turned her head to look over at him, her brows slightly raised in disbelief at his words.

"And for what it's worth, if anything at all," He continued, "I think you're someone worth searching for."

Her eyes softened; he'd never seen her look at him that way before. It was something like... fondness? Appreciation? A lapse in judgment from the whisky and chems? Whatever it was, it pulled at the corners of his mouth. Ava smiled back, the first real one he'd ever seen from her, and it was infectious. Her cheeks dimpled, and she looked almost a little nervous before she settled into it, which made Benny wonder just how many reasons she'd even have to smile these days. A gust of wind blew through their camp, and Ava visibly shivered. Wordlessly, Benny shrugged his jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

"I'm still really fuckin' mad at you," She whispered, "But thank you, Benny."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she scooted closer to him so that their sides were touching. Ava reached for his arm and gently slung it over her shoulders as she rested her head against his chest. He was stiff for a moment, not quite sure if this was a sick joke or not, but when she didn't do anything else besides lean into him, he finally relaxed.

The girl knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it; he dug that.

They sat for a while, neither of them saying a word, as the sky grew darker and darker. Vegas glowed like a lantern off in the distance, a stark contrast to the rest of the Mojave bathed in black. With how brightly the skyline shone, the stars had a hard time competing, even though the sky was littered with them. It wasn't often that Benny spent a night out in the dust - that was now more a thing relegated to a former life - and though he wasn't one to live in the past, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he stared up at the constellations. Years of his life spent as a nomad walking the Mojave with the Boot Riders, countless nights just like this, and how quickly he'd tossed it all aside for caps and comfort. He'd have done all that again, he knew, but as he felt Ava relax fully against him, he had more than one regret in the back of his mind. Benny was careful as he glanced down at her, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open as she slept soundly on his shoulder, and gently moved some of the hair away from her face. As he did, his eyes caught the edge of the scar from the bullet.

Yeah, sure-as-shit, more than one regret.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH113

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 113: The Dream of the Holy Nun (III)

The abandoned church was located at the border of the Twilight Township, an area deserted and overgrown with weeds.

From a distance, the dilapidated church, which was about to be overtaken by the sparse woods, seemed to be frozen in the sunset, gradually broken under the wheel of years, and finally forgotten.

At the edge of the roof, a string-thin moon was bathed in the sunset. Qi Leren recalled that the day when he received the task in the Nightmare Game, there was also such a string-thin moon hanging in the twilight.

Qi Leren took a deep breath, stepped on the rubble, and walked to the church.

The door of the church had been in disrepair for a long time and opened with a gentle push. The breeze from the door aroused the settled dust, sending it flying under the golden red afterglow. The image of the game overlapped with this scene, both familiar and unfamiliar. The image of the computer screen in his memory became a real scene at this moment, giving a feeling of absurdity.

Through the rows of pews, Qi Leren came to the depths of the church.

There were two doors here, one to the left and one to the right.

At that time, Qi Leren had randomly chosen the door to the right and walked along the forest path. He’d come to a cemetery, where he had received a mission to go to the Holy City. The reason why he’d known this mission was special was that the mission’s text colour in the game was different from other tasks.

As a save scummer, Qi Leren had actually saved files when choosing to go left or right, but after entering the right door and receiving the task, he didn't reload the file but instead continued the game. The NPC Rudd had told him that he and his comrade-in-arms Arnold were eroded by the Devil’s energy after the Battle of the Holy City and their fighting power had declined, so they didn't have the strength to return to the Holy City. Now, the Holy City is shrouded in fog, but Arnold has a mission item which would allow people to pass through the fog and enter the Holy City. He hoped that players could dispel the fog and let the people trapped in the Holy City be free.

At that time, Qi Leren hadn't known much about the Holy City. After getting the task items, he’d rushed to the Holy City and then died for the first time in this game, getting a Bad Ending…

Qi Leren looked at these two identical doors carefully. They were embedded in the wall from left to right, waiting for his choice.

Qi Leren knew that he should make a decision quickly. If he caught up now, he might still catch the man who took away the drunken NPC and even take over the task before him. But so what? If the other party, like him, had played the Nightmare Game in the real world and happened to trigger the main task, then his secret was no longer only his secret…

Therefore, it was important to leave this kind of responsibility to others.

But…

A faint unwillingness made him hesitate.

Qi Leren helplessly felt that this tangled situation was probably retribution for his rare procrastination... Although him dragging out triggering this task hadn’t been from laziness, but because he was thinking of his own safety.

Forget it, he would go to the left door this time. The choice was always his Qi Leren turned away from the door on the right and went straight to the wooden door on the left.

The wooden door was pushed away. Ahead was a sparse forest shrouded in sunset, weeds covering the gravel path on the ground, and Qi Leren easily identified the path and headed into the forest. In the setting sun, the wind blew this barren woods, far away from the factories that roared all day long. The air in this area was fresh and the sound of insects, birds, wind, and bats' flying turned into a natural music in the ear.

Qi Leren walked forward with his heart in his hand. As he walked deeper and deeper, the forest in front of him gradually grew thick. In the deep twilit scene, he vaguely saw the high and low tombstones in the misty clearing ahead, and a hazy figure in the fog.

His foot stepped on the wet ground, and the dead branches were broken. The birds in the branches sang, and the man turned around.

The open space in the forest, the worn tombstones on the wet soil, and the man in the sunset… were like a story and a dream.

"Ning, Ning Zhou?" Qi Leren swallowed. He never expected to see him here.

Ning Zhou, wearing a cloak, looked at him quietly. The soft sunset blurred the blue in his eyes, and Qi Leren couldn't help but think that he saw tenderness. But in the blink of an eye, those eyes were frozen by rational coldness, leaving only empty calm.

"Why are you here?" Qi Leren couldn't help but ask.

Ning Zhou backed away a little, revealing the tombstone behind him, which was well maintained unlike those around it that had been damaged and broken. It had a name engraved on it - Maria.

Qi Leren suddenly remembered Ning Zhou's life experiences. His mother was a hierophant of the Holy See, and his father was from the first group of players to enter the game... He was raised by his mother, and after Maria died he was sent to the Holy See in Neverland and embarked on the same path as Maria.

He remembered what Chen Baiqi had said. The thirteen-year-old Ning Zhou couldn't even learn a holy light cure. Even if he went to the Holy See, he wasn’t able to learn magic well…

What was Ning Zhou like as a child? Maybe he also had the same experiences as ordinary children, and grew up freely and happily in the sunset… until Maria died.

Qi Leren hesitated for a moment and walked silently to Ning Zhou's side. There was no photo on Maria's tombstone. There was nothing but a name. It was hard to imagine that a field master should finally be silent in such a deserted churchyard.

"She always wanted to go back," NingZhou suddenly said.

Since just now, Qi Leren had been waiting for Ning Zhou to say something, but he didn't expect Ning Zhou to talk about Maria's wishes.

"Go back to the Holy City?" he asked in a low voice.

Ning Zhou nodded shallowly: "But she had been unable to go back and dared not to."

Although he didn't know the reason, a feeling of melancholy welled up in Qi Leren's mind. He was almost sure that Maria was the Holy Nun who had never been named in the Nightmare Game.

After the Holy City’s enchantment collapsed, the Holy See withdrew from the Holy City. She stayed behind and used a mysterious method to protect the people in the Holy City. Now Qi Leren knew that this power should be called a "field", but at that time, the game did not describe this method figuratively, instead describing it as "The Dream of the Holy Nun".

This Holy Nun, who was unwilling to give up the Holy City, broke out with amazing power. She was favored by the gods and pulled everything in the Holy City into her own "Dream". The Dream suppressed the raging demons and made them unable to harm human beings. Even the Devil was killed by this Dream and slept deep in the cathedral.

However, the Holy Nun finally collapsed herself, and when she died, her Dream would not be woken again. Her Dream imprisoned both human beings and demons, and even the Old Devil who had invaded the human world for the first time was imprisoned in her Dream.

Maybe even her own soul had been forgotten there.

The surviving walking dead was finally defeated by time, and her bones were buried deep in the soil.

However, Qi Leren knew that until the moment before her death, she still wanted to go back and personally end the "Dream" she had created in order to let the people trapped in the Dream return to reality. However, she had been weak for too long, lingering on her deathbed for more than ten years, and finally returned to heaven.

At this moment, Qi Leren wanted to do something for her and for him…

"Do you want to go back to the Holy City?" Qi Leren asked him.

Ning Zhou nodded silently.

"Then leave it to me!" Qi Leren showed a happy smile to him. It seemed that it was a very happy thing to be able to help Ning Zhou. This was indeed the case. "I happen to know how to get to the Holy City. As long as I find something, I can pass through the fog outside the Holy City. So let's go to the Holy City together!"

The breeze was harmonious, the afterglow was tender, and Ning Zhou, who stood in the deserted cemetery, did not ask him how he knew how to get through the fog, nor how to get the key item. He just nodded his head without doubt.

He shouldn't have agreed. Ning Zhou knew this clearly. Every step closer was a step toward the abyss; to stay one more second was to drink poison to quench his thirst. In the depths of his heart, her appearance has faded away, but his appearance has become more and more vivid. Meeting again and again was like a colorful brush that filled his outline with color, and he was about to come out of the painting.

The demon lurking in his soul lured him with moving words, which made him hesitate, doubt, shake, and drowned him in sin.

God wanted his followers to love their own kind, men, women, old people, and young children alike.

God praised love and blessed couples who were united by love, but God did not allow men to fall in love with men and women to fall in love with women.

Man's love could not exceed that of the Lord. Only the Lord loved everyone.

Therefore, he should restrain himself and stay away from him, but his inner desire and yearning couldn't be suppressed. Just like after the long extreme night in Neverland, when he and the other followers had stood on the glacier, singing and chanting against the cold wind, waiting for the first sunshine after the endless night. At that moment, the joy and yearning in his heart came from his soul and was irresistible.

He could only say to himself: This is the last time.

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[satohqbanana]

Aveyond Divergent Fate P4-2

A/N: The day everything changed. Also, anybody noticed Lorad actually wears Dameon's king outfit? I split Part 4 as the first part focuses on Lars, and this one focuses on Rhen.

Warning: Canon-typical slavery, douche Lars

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At night, Rhen dreams about motions akin to dancing - flowers swaying in the wind, water swirling in a pool, fire igniting on the torch, and so on. And at the core of it, she finds metal. Within that metal are waves that she can somehow see. Gut feeling tells her to sing, and when she does, the waves dance to her almost-meaningless chants.

When the morning comes, Rona's panicking because everything has to be *perfect*. Rhen has to skip breakfast to do errands here and there, and she's basically ignoring a lot of stuff to do what she can to survive.

Enter Lars picking on Eddie for bumping onto him during such an important day. Rhen, being on survival mode, defaults to intervening. Lars shifts his attention to her while Eddie escapes. The two get into a fight. Lars uses his powers and Rhen barely escapes his lightning. In retaliation, she reaches for something and stabs him.

Fortunately, it's just a stick. Unfortunately, Rhen being on survival mode kicks her own powers into activation, and she's able to use the innate magic within the stick to hurt Lars back.

Their scuffle is witnessed by many, but the Shadwood envoys are there to confirm what they had witnessed. Lars Tenobor, who had been forbidden to use sorcery until he's learned to control it in the academy, had used sorcery. And the one who fought him, the slave, was a hidden prodigy in sword singing.

The two envoys break the fight using their own magic, stating that it was forbidden for untrained children to use their magic in dangerous scenarios such as these. Lars tries to shoo them away, but he is humiliated when the envoys introduce themselves: Lorad Rethwell and Ghelda Gentrie, representatives of Shadwood. Lorad gives Rhen a token of admittance to Shadwood, marking her freedom from being a slave. Ghelda offers to take Lars away and tell his mother of the news.

Lorad meanwhile takes Rhen to the Mule Express cart to bring her to Veldarah immediately. He tells Rhen that as a magic wielder - and a powerful sword singer to boot - she cannot be a slave, as the Empire relies on its magic wielders for its military might, its research endeavors, and other areas of interest, and it's been decreed that ALL magic wielders who are considered citizens of the empire MUST serve it - slaves included. For children, they are all required to attend Shadwood Academy.

But isn't Lorad be a noble himself? Why is he helping her? Lorad laughs and explains more about the social classes (he’s from the merchant class), the history of the Empire and its magic wielders, and sword singing basics 101. He also says that it’s been years since he’s personally handed an admission token to a potential sword singer, as he carefully picks his proteges. Rhen is one of these rare talents that he personally chose and endorsed (or will endorse) to Master Harald.

Rhen's stomach growls, and Lorad offers her a snack. He gives her more insights about the academy and its teachings. Soon, she caves into fatigue, and falls asleep with relief, knowing that she was going to have a better future soon, even if it was still an unknown future...

And as for Lars, he and Ghelda suffer an earful of complaints from Rona. The Tenobors' reputation is stained, and Lars loses part of his authority and credibility as a noble. Lars thinks of penning a letter to Reina: that slave she told him to be nice to? That very slave just got herself admitted into Shadwood.

--

Notes:

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Imagine Roxas’s reaction to seeing Axel shirtless when he started getting buff for the first time

Enjoy the distraction of the evening and Roxas and Sora bonding, and be warned of language and reference to adult situations.

"Can I complain to you about Riku for a second?" Sora asked. It was perhaps not the ideal time to start a new conversation as Roxas was in the process of landing the gummi ship in a clear spot of grass in the courtyard outside the entrance to the keyblade academy at the Land of Departure, but that was how Sora was, keeping things in and then letting them explode forth at times that often seemed odd to others, but were simply the breaking point to him.

"No, I require at least ten minutes of complaining about Riku every week,"Roxas deadpanned, guiding the ship down between two others already parked. "You know the time table. Three minutes without air. Three days without food. Seven days without busting Riku's silver dusted balls."

"Gold," Sora chirped, unbuckling his restraints and going for the door.

"I'm going to regret this," Roxas sighed, half to himself as he followed suit,  "But...what?"

"Gold medal," Sora grinned. "Everything in that area is nothing less than first place." 

"Strongly disagree." Roxas screwed up his face in exaggerated disgust.

"You have no way of..." Sora complained as they started up to the castle.

"Please, can we get to the complaining?" Roxas cut him off.

"It's official even. The council of judges, me and Data Sora judging pictures saved on my gummi phone, awarded him the blue ribbon. I tied it..." 

"I will give you all the munny in my munny bag not to finish that sentence." It was pretty clear to Roxas that Sora was torturing him on purpose for crimes of his past lives. Sometimes he still hated his other.

"Then I suppose you don't want to hear about the ribbon cutting ceremony either? Or, well, it was more of a ribbon untying ceremony. I'm not usually good at tongue tricks like the cherry thing so I was kind of proud of myself that I managed to..."

The pattern of hasty interruption of an oblivious or happily malicious Sora continued. "For the love of sea salt ice cream, Sora, I'm begging you to stop before I hurl."

"What were you talking about before?" Sora blanked and grasped at straws of stray thought. "Tortillas?"

"What? Why would you think that?"

"It was taco night when I came up with the ribbon ceremony."

"You were going to tell me how much Riku was annoying you."

 The enlightened glow of remembrance entered Sora's eyes, but the spark of happiness at conquering his brain only lasted a moment before Sora was collapsing against the doors of the castle academy, playing up the drama of whining, "Riku is driving me crazy!"

"That's more like it! Tell me all about it."  Roxas was perhaps a bit overzealous in his support, judging by the look Sora shot him, so he tried a more nonchalant and less gleeful tone, "You'll feel better."

"He keeps looking at me like I'm going to disappear in front of his eyes. He's woken me up in the middle of the night to make sure I'm still breathing. He keeps tripping me up in battle because he's started diving between me and the Heartless, like all of a sudden I can't take care of myself. I know why it's happening, and I know he means well, but I'm not sure how much longer I can take it. Do you have that problem with Axel?"

Now, he and Axel had to work through some anxiety about being separated again. It had taken a lot of long talks, time, and trust exercises, to work through them, but now Roxas could help Sora with Riku's issues from the point of view of someone who had been there before and gotten out. Or he could just make a joke. "Well, I'm afraid he'll get caught in a strong wind one night and snap in half, but I'm trying to keep myself rational. I mean I can stick unwound hangers in his clothes to try and create a brace from something more substantial than his limbs, and I can put a bell on him so I don't lose track of him when he turns sideways, but after we take all the precautions we can, all I can do is tell him to be careful lifting his keyblade so it doesn't break his arm, and look at the positive. He and Jack Skellington wear the same size jacket and being able to trade clothes with  the King of Halloween is pretty cool."

"What are you talking about?"

Roxas steeled himself to be drawn into a serious talk anyway, taking a spot leaning against the doors alongside Sora and putting a hand on his shoulder, dearly hoping someone didn't open the door from the other side and send them sprawling. "Listen, I picked a ridiculous example, but the same principle applies. Take measures to keep each other safe--simple ones that don't stop you from being able to do your job-- talk about what his fears are, and then just try to find silver linings and agree to live your lives. You guys are going to be okay."

"Oh yeah, I know that,"  Sora dismissed, shaking off his hand. "I was just letting off steam. Riku's actually being really sweet. I just need to make him realize what he's doing before he finds a way to sacrifice himself again to keep me safe. What you said about Axel doesn't make sense though. He's ripped."

"He's a twig," Roxas countered with a scoff. "He's got the muscle mass of the jelly creature from Monstropolis, and looks like it the time it let me suck it into a large straw to make Boo laugh. I love him but he's a scarecrow. My stickman scarecrow, and I love him, but let's be realistic."

The light of dawning realization lit Sora's eyes once more, and Roxas found it a bit unnerving. He was definitely missing something. "...Haven't you visited Axel since he started training with Terra?"

"No, this is my first visit, to see Terra confer the master title on him." Master ceremonies had become a big thing now, a little pomp and circumstance to make it seem more important, Roxas guessed. Riku had missed out. Too bad for him. "He was on a journey of the soul as well as the body...Whatever that means. Terra didn't want me distracting him."

"That's what makes it more fun. When I went to retake my mark of mastery at Yensid's tower...Wait a second, Terra ordered you to do something and you just listened?" Sora's pursed lips and glaring eyes spoke more of tantrum throwing toddler than betrayed friend.

"He's a master," Roxas answered simply, though it wasn't respect for orders of a master that held him back. He could have been a master too, if he wanted, if he felt like he needed the validation of being recognized by the others and wanted to jump through hoops set up by Yensid or Aqua or even worse options. He had been named master of the keyblade by the Organization, that was enough. He and Axel had agreed they would help guard the worlds but they wouldn't play into the ranking game. Axel had changed his mind, and Roxas respected that, but he felt no compulsion to join him.

"You never listen when Riku tells you to do something. He's a master too."

"Master, my ass."

"No, master of my..."

"Why do you have to be like this?" Roxas groaned, sliding to the ground.

"Don't get pissy just because you haven't gotten laid in months."

"I didn't visit because Axel told me not to. We've been doing the long distance thing. We've done it before for stretches, like when he and Isa were working on their first book,"Roxas answered Sora's original question, loudly, to change the subject.

"But you've talked on the gummi phone?"

"Every night."

"With video?"

"Is this going back to a weird place you never leave?"

"I live in the gutter now!" Sora confirmed happily, before going back to neutral. "No, it's a serious question. Have you gotten a good look at Axel recently?"

"Same loveable bozo sleeping in a fuzzy zip up adult onesie that makes him look like a Meow Wow  he's always been. "

"You haven't seen him out of the onesie?" At Roxas's exasperated look, Sora defended himself once more. "Legitimate question."

"Some nights I don't even see him take down the hood. He has a voice for Meowaxel."

"And you were griping about the ribbon ceremony. Your sex story is much weirder."

"We don't have phone sex," Roxas's pining despair outweighed his distaste for discussing this kind of thing with Sora who was a dog that never let go of a bone without making a joke about boning. "We have an agreement. He almost crashed a gummi ship once."

"You...while he was driving?" Sora looked impressed and Roxas felt a rare flash of shame.

"New idea?" He pushed through and said the words as if they were a crack of his own.

"Great idea!" Sora's face split into a wide grin and Roxas apologized to Riku internally, the only way he ever did so. Sora grabbed his former Nobody's arm and dragged him to his feet. "Come on. We're going to spy on Axel sparring with Terra. They have a routine. Terra wouldn't deviate from it even knowing people are arriving for the ceremony tonight."

"I am always down to see my baby light someone on fire," Roxas followed Sora down the hill, pliable and, frankly, excited to see Axel as soon as possible.

"Baby? Blech." Sora pulled a face that lasted maybe half a second and rang false while it did, thrilled and supportive as always to see Roxas showing a soft spot, but attempting to play some of Roxas's own attitude back at him.

"Your pet names for Riku are worse...and you should not prove it by listing them." Roxas tacked on the latter part hastily, leaving no room for Sora to start his reign of terror anew.

" There are several riffs on Dream Eater that would make you wish you were as smart as me," Sora huffed, "But that's not what we're here for." He held Roxas back for a second with a thrown out arm, and glanced around the last bend in the hill. Roxas could hear sounds of exertion. Satisfied with what he saw, Sora withdrew the restraining arm in favor of waving his hands like a cheap magician as he ordered Roxas to, "Feast your eyes!"

Roxas ignored Sora's theatrics and stepped around him, only to stop short when he ended up following the other man's order despite himself. His eyes were feasting and there was an entire buffet in the form of Axel, stripped to the waist and hair up in a messy bun with damp loose tendrils stuck to the back of his neck, twisting away to avoid a strike by Terra (in his weird black spandex shirt like always, showing off for who the hell knew or cared) and using the momentum to whirl the rest of the circle and carry out his own blow, the flex and spring back of newly defined muscles Roxas had missed the development of covered by freckled skin that didn't quite make the definition of tan but had been cultivated into a tone more golden than ghost pale translucent on display. The first dish was broad shoulders that had always  been there, but no longer existed just to make clothes hang smoothly like they did on a clothes hanger now that they were attached to the freshly carved meat station--arms that bulged and Roxas was going to declare illegal to ever hide under bunched neon fleece or a thick black coat again. He'd call Axel's new abs the salad bar because he wanted to charge like a bull and then start grazing, but they could also be the drink station because there was definitely a six pack there much more appealing than the beer Hayner had developed a fondness for, and Roxas was remarkably thirsty looking at them. Axel's waist was still comparatively small (Dorito. Delicious. More buffets should include snack food on the side. Jokes weren't over. The man was a snack.) but then there was perhaps the most shocking addition of all had popped into existence below it.

"Bite the buns and have a popsicles for dessert," Roxas whispered under his breath, awed, unable to even be embarrassed by half consciously daydreaming out loud because his eyes had continued their journey and found out there was now meat on the stork (too long to be chicken) drumsticks Axel walked around on.

"Think he's safe from the wind now?" Sora taunted.

"Time for you to leave." Roxas shook himself out of his daze to return fully to the present.

"What?"

"Run up to the castle," Roxas gave the same order in new phrasing as he walked on ahead and waved to Terra, yelling, "Time to leave."

The scene that ensued was bordering on comical as Terra froze, caught off guard and was smacked full in the face with head turning force by the flat of Axel's keyblade, an act that was accompanied by an apologetic, "Oh shit!" and widened eyes that spoke to Axel trying to cut his actions short but being unable to stop the blow, just lessen it. Terra stumbled and Axel reached out to steady him, but then appeared to change his mind or become irrevocably distracted halfway through as Roxas's presence sank in fully. His keyblade disappeared in a shower of sparks, Terra fell, and the lovers ran to be reunited. 

Roxas found himself lifted off the ground like he weighed nothing and his soul left his body, leaving him not responsible for the happily sighed word that he used to greet Axel, "Arms."

[lovee-infected]

♦♥ Paint them red ♠♣

[Yandere!Riddle Rosehearts x reader] [pr 2] [pr 1]

♠♠♠♠

"Enough"

(y/n) Stood there helplessly , after all she knew better : it's always the same.

"30 days , one month , don't be late "

Again

and again

and again...

There was no end .

Fixing her dress , she bows to Riddle with a : " Thanks for the tea , Riddle ." , leaving immediately , trying her best not to run as long as being in his sight .

(y/n) was no longer a hopelessly romantic child , but a young , well grown lady instead. The girl who was known for being loud and carelessly excited about new things long away died inside her ; all that was left was an obedient , quite shell , serving its master.

It's been years since (y/n) firstly stepped into rabbit's trap and now , she could feel the hole being digged deeper and deeper each time she returned to start this mad game over which was getting longer and deeper each time ... slowly turning from a hollow to a pitch black well...

How slow and temporary , she didn't ever see this coming

At first all was a simple tea party , or that's what she thought . They'd normally talk but (y/n) wasn't ever the one to ask ; perhaps it begun because she found it rude to ask a host questions at first , but it continued because she no longer dared to ask anything . It was pretty unnoticeable at first since she was just trying to be polite against Riddle , considering his countless questions a small trend out of curiosity , but soon , things changed

Riddle begun with any simple thing others might ask : Her favorite books , animals , opinion on sweets , favorite activities to do...

(y/n) wouldn't be bothered by answering any of them , though it sometimes took hours

She must've admitted that she quite enjoyed herself spending time with him , someone who's always willing to listen to you instead of forcing you into listening to them : Riddle was often the listener , not the speaker . There were very few times she could get him talking about himself but it didn't get any further than simple comments on different types of tea and sometimes his obsession with rules . She'd asked him about his family a couple of times and he'd just...change the topic by asking more questions before she could argue

He didn't ever say a word , but (y/n) could tell it from his face : He wasn't happy . She'd spent countless hours talking about her friends and family , how much they mean to her and she loves them expecting him a similar reply or at least , a note to his family and friends . But he'd always end up being quieter than ever , not even looking her in eyes . When they were younger it used to bring him blushes on cheek and watery eyes , making him have to turn back and wipe them away before (y/n) could've seen , but she always saw .

Perhaps that was what made her want to keep playing his game for sometime longer , hopeful that she could actually change him . She thought that it's what makes her a nice person , a good friend . She really thought that it was what Riddle needed .

But he didn't

(y/n) used to believe that she was changing him , that she was taking the pain away , that she was taking making him stronger than before .

(y/n) didn't realize how she was the one being changed by Riddle , slowly becoming his doll .

Even his questions slightly changed from simple friendly ones to deep , personal accusations .

He would ask her about he smallest spots on her life : What time she'd wake up , what she'd eat , how many hours would she spend outdoor , anything she does durnig her days , even dreams she'd have

None of these seemed to be any big deal on their own , but things are different when there's someone knowing them all .

With all these years being asked and exposed from head to toe , he was starting to know (y/n) better than she did herself :

He could tell what would be the first thing that'll come to her mind when she wakes up tomorrow , and what she'd whisper slowly before closing her eyes to sleep

He could tell what will make her smile when she walks in to her house and what will make her cry after quiting her classes .

Her whole personality was a half written book and Riddle had decided to write the rest of it after reading all that was written .

sending a mild shiver down her body and mind . He was neither asking nor or dering , he was speaking of a speaking of a fact . A request can be denied , and order may be disobeyed , but his words...they were like predictions of her future . What she will do in three days...one month . He was the puppeteer and she the small , naive doll.

(y/n) could sense his heavy gaze on her each time hey met ; all of her.

She could find herself being judged into his eyes :

Head to toe

left to right

Outside to inside

She could feel them all watched-

And she didn't like it

More roses would grow every months . More time would be spent on that hellish tea parties . All of her now non-existing personality had been wiped off her , since the day her curiosity killed the cat .

She couldn't take it anymore , she was sick of it , all of it . Sick of being haunted by Riddle's phantom . She was sick of not being able to smile in years . She was sick of his '30 days , one month ' . She was sick of him

Month after month , party after party , year after year...

Enough

What was wrong with her ? Why didn't she ever try to run away ? 'because he would find her-'?

No

No he wouldn't

He wouldn't even realize how she ran off , forever. What was there to stop her...?

Roses

Roses and more roses

They weren't yet done , and will never be...

Unless...

♣♣♣♣

(y/n) stepped into the empty area , all quiet and dark now . She must've returned home hours ago , but no . Not until this ends , so she can have a peaceful sleep after years . Wind growled and trees shook , while the moon brightened up her figure standing right in the middle of the forest .

She gazed upon the rose bushes with hatred , wishing that she could burn each and every one of them in flames ; flames that have been burning her for so long .

But no , there was no use destroying all that was created by her own hands , she wasn't going to touch any of red roses. All she needed were the white ones . No more painting , never again .

She tightened her fist , feeling her blood boiling . She's been played with over the years , just to end up here . Heart broken and tired . She suddenly remembered the old moments this place carved into her heart ; times that were actually sweet . It wasn't like this before , and she never thought that it would be . There were many times she thought that she was in love with Riddle , even after he turned into a monster she'd never expected him to be . There was no deny of it , Riddle was her closet one now , he's been for so long . No one ever knew her like he did , not a single soul wished to listen to her like he always does , there wasn't and will never be anyone more willing to meet her each and every time like Riddle would , never .

She could feel her eyes teary and her throat heavy ; she couldn't help it . Riddle had stolen all of her , including her heart . She was supposed to be mad but she couldn't , Riddle was a part of her now . Just as much as she wanted to run away from him , she wished there to be a way to stnad by his side for an eternity , forever . She didn't need anyone else when he was around , he couldn't think of anything else than him . Riddle had become her one and only option , but this wasn't right . This couldn't be right. There was no way she could walk up to him throwing herself into his embrace , telling him how she felt and asking him to stop playing with her . She wish she could but no , he will never change , unlike her . She now hated how much she'd changed into such a pitty full doll , she couldn't take it anymore . There was no way of Riddle ever letting go of her thoughts , he'll always be a part of her . (y/n) wished they could've stayed together forever but this wasn't a fairy tale , life never was. She now had to let go of her fantasies and live the reality for once .

"Forgive me..." , she said as tears fell down her eyes . Her vision went blurred but that wasn't going to hold her back from seeing white roses through the night . She cut them one by one , ruthlessly , crazily , hatefully

4,5,6

She cursed herself for the first time she stepped there , cursed the world by making the two of them meet the day , and cursed Riddle for catching her heart and getting her to where she was .

9,10,11

She cried as her hands turned just as injured as her heart , filthy and drowned in blood , making her let out a silent scream

12 , 13...

She rose both of her hands to catch the last rose , the 13th...

Just to feel choked on neck and pulled back harshly by hair at once .

Riddle harshly pulled (y/n) by neck , almost breaking it . Her body hardly met the ground ,starting to wheeze , The freezing cold ground now seemed a lot warmer than her frozen mind . She apparently lost the ability to move or talk , not even daring to look up , begging him for mercy .

He knew she'd come back

Just as he knew her everything

"I'd warned you about my temper , (y/n) .Thought that you were smart enough to listen "

(y/n) wished to find a source of anger through his voice , but she didn't . It would've been way better than this terrifyingly calm and cold tone of him which made her blood run cold and her throat dry .

" I knew that you'll one day try to run away , had no idea that it'd come this soon though..." , he said , slowly pulling (y/n) up by hair , making her silently cry with her eyes closed , biting her lip to shut her scream .

"Tell me , (y/n) , " his eyes weren't at her , but at the now destroyed rose bush : " You seriously did think that all that was bounding you to me were these roses...? " his hand was pulling her hair recklessly , yet his voice managed to be calm as ever , that was just like him .

" Roses will wither , tea will run cold , copper will ring , that's the matter of nature, " his words brought you back to your first day here , the day you two met . Withered roses , half empty tea cups and ringed chest clock ...

" Not all relationships can be bound by such things , they cannot be measured by mortality and such short lasting stuff..." , he continued with his rhythmic tone , making (y/n) feel worse and worse.

" If it were just roses , you would've ran away long ago . There was something else , right ? Something that kept you coming to me ," his words are as deep as ever , making she ask herself the same question :

'Why didn't she ever run away?'

Right , there wasn't any force on her ; there never was. She was there because of the choices she , and she had made so far . It was her choice to go to the deeper part of the forest thougt her parents had forbidded her from doing so . It was her choice to come back one month after painting first half of the roses and it was her choice to keep playing this game until now , what could the reason be ? Fear ? Respect ? Curiosity..?

" What could the reason be (y/n) ? Why did you choose to come back to me each and every time? " he asked , but he certainly wasn't expecting an anwser .

" Can't you see this ? it's because I am your choice . You've got a great family , wonderful friends , and an amazing life . But were they really enough for you ? Did they ever satisfy you like they should ? "

For once , she didn't get what Riddle was saying . Satisfied ? Why shouldn't she be satisfied ? Did he really think that she preferred to be caught in the middle of the woods here with him than being out with the ones whom she really loved?

" You laugh with them , cry with them and smile with them , day to day , hour to hour , minute to minute . But is that really enough for you ?"

(y/n) remained blank at his words , unsure what to say or how to feel but...what if he wasn't that wrong...?

" When was the last time someone asked you how you feel ?"

Last time ? It was Riddle of course . He'll ask the same question everytime they meet , not even caring if he keeps getting the same anwser as before .

" You talk with them , from how cute kittens are to how sweet lollypops can be , but what was the last time you talked about yourself ? "

Last time...was there even a first time ? Did they even care to ask her about herself ? She didn't know . She was the questioner out there , unlike how she was with Riddle .She was the one to always bring up topics , no one would ever ask her anything but regular stuff or things she'd bring herself . She thought that it was all she needed to live , wasn't it enough..?

" You know it yourself , don't you ? No one out there cares for you , (y/n) . Not a single soul . Your parents protect you as a responsibility , your friends talk to you as their own entertainment and others , others are just passing by . You're nothing but an invisible shallow to them , do you like it? "

(y/n) wished she could've argued him on that point , but realizing how he had a point his throat went dry again , unwilling to face reality :

No she didn't , she hated it . She hated it all . She hated how she smiled and shouted just to gain attention . She hated all times she cut off into her friends chats just because no one was going to ask her to join , she hated everyone around her for not ever coming to her unless having a trouble or being in need and she hated how fake all her life were ,

Hated

" You needed a listener , someone who would really care to know about you and only you , someone like me . No one will ever know you like I do , not a single soul will wish to listen to you like I always do , there wasn't and will never be anyone more willing to meet you each and every time like I would , never . "

Riddle's words were too complicated for her to describe ; gloomy and sad , fluffy and sweet , bitter and sour , just like Riddle himself ; a total riddle .

" I'm the one for you (y/n) , and you're the one for me . Our bound isn't a simple strand that can be destroyed by cutting roses off , and you know it . "

He suddenly freed (y/n)'s hair , making her head bang the ground again . He leans toward her to pull her up from behind , holding her from the armpit. Just as your first time .(y/n) was now feeling all dizzy and shakey , not even able to stand if he wasn't holding her . She felt weak in legs , arms , mind , all of her . No longer sure if it was a dream or reality .

He helped her try to stand on her own feet , but didn't let go . He lowered his head to whisper into her ear : " Roses will grow again , but I won't let go of you this time . "

(y/n) was expecting something different , something romantic or low-key sweet , something that a lover might say . But uh , not all love stories are like those ordinary ones , not all fairy tales have a sweet , happy ending .

Riddle held her by waist with his left hand , while holding her right hand with the right , bringing her closer to the very last rose left . For the first time she knew what he was about to do , with your bloody hand still fresh and pleasing for him : " And now , you shouldn't waste that all " he says before bringing her hand closer to the rose , making her fingers meet its petals . This time Riddle wasn't the only one painting it , he was just holding her hand . She brushed her fingers down the soft petals , careful enough to do it as soft as possible . Her first time doing this was filled with excitement and her 10 minutes ago with hatred , but now , all that was left was a simple breeze among flowers , she couldn't even feel anything . It couldn't be called sad or happy , it couldn't be called neutral either . All that she could feel from the moment was the sight of her fingers dancing on petals , and on the other side...Riddle . His warm breathe brushing her neck , their bodies touching and tied closed as if they were actually hugging . And his heart...the feeling of it beating at (y/n)'s back . This sound was just as it were years ago , just as calm , just as rhythmic , just as beautiful

(y/n) felt empty yet...safe right there . Her future had dark and cold inside if she were to have an compliment on it now , but for now , being held close to Riddle into his warm and calming embrace , seemed enough for her ;

Enough to believe in fairy tales ...♥

♦♥♠♣

This was supposed to be finished ten days ago lol , happy non-birthday to you Ana @yandere-romanticaa 💕💕💕

Tagging : @twst-soul @kanaverni @twistedlymad @yandere-of-your-dreams @ghostiebabey @roaringyouth @yandere-wishes @tsuisute ♥

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels: Welcome Aboard

I was going to write a second part of “The Team”, but it ended up being extremely long-winded and boring, so I decided on this instead.  Hope you like it.  

Despite his apparent oddness, it must be said that Drake didn’t waste any time.  Already, he had a job for the team, now called the Magnificent Scoundrels at his insistence.  They were to rendezvous around a planet on the outer edges of Drake’s home galaxy, where he would inform them the rest of the details.  For those who did not own their own starships, accommodations were provided by the members of the team who did.  Jack Cooper, who was introduced as the lone military-looking man at the back of the room, would be traveling with Drake, as Drake’s ship, called the Apocalypse, was the only one with enough room to transport Cooper’s Titan, a monstrous twenty foot tall piloted robot designed to crush anything it would possibly face.  The elaborate-uniformed man, as it turned out, was a commissar (Author’s note: Commissar definition- a political or morale officer) attached to an entire regiment of soldiers.  The only ship that was equipped to fit an entire military regiment inside was Adam Vir’s, and as such, Commissar Ciaphas Cain and the Valhallan 597th of the Imperial Guard were put aboard his ship, the Omen.  Master Chief was a singular person and thus did not require much room, and so Kirk volunteered to transport him aboard the Enterprise.  And so, it was now that welcomes were issued, people and supplies were loaded, and mooring lines were cast off, figuratively speaking.  

Aboard the Omen

Adam Vir sighed contentedly as he settled into his command chair.  It was good to be back on board his ship, and definitely good to get away from maniacal mercenaries and people who he wasn't sure were hallucinations or not.  Speaking of which, he glanced around his shoulder.  Commissar Cain and the commanding officer of the regiment, Colonel Kasteen, were standing ramrod straight, hands behind their backs, at the back area of the bridge, apparently wanting to see takeoff.  Cain’s elaborate uniform was drawing rushed glancines from the bridge crew, several who gawked at the newcomers before Vir snapped at them to get back at their stations.  Sighing again, this time in annoyance at his crew’s lack of social skills, he stood up, put on his best diplomatic smile, and walked towards the duo, arm outstretched.  

“Commissar Cain, Colonel Kasteen, I trust your soldiers have made themselves comfortable.”  Kasteen looked bewildered at the outstretched hand for a moment, then shook it and gave a rather sickly smile.  

“Er, yes they have, Admiral.”  Her grip noticeably weakened as Sunny, the ship’s eight foot tall four-armed Drev weapons officer brushed past.  “All the Guardsmen are secured for warp jump.”  Vir nodded appreciatively.

“Excellent.”  He then turned and shook Cain’s hand, which on second glance, had several cold metal prosthetic fingers.  Cain had a warm smile plastered on his face as he shook Adam’s hand.

“A pleasure meeting you, Admiral Vir.”  His smile grew larger, and Adam couldn’t help but smile back in genuine amusement.  

“And a pleasure meeting you, Commissar Cain.”  He turned back to the bridge crew.  “When are we ready to jump?” he asked.  

“Three minutes, sir, came the reply from his first mate.  

“Excellent,” he replied.  Kasteen cleared her throat behind him.

“Admiral, would you like the Guardsmen to their battle stations?” she asked.  Vir turned around in puzzlement.  

“Battle stations?  Why?”

“Well, some Imperial Captains like the Guardsmen and naval provosts at battle stations when in warp transition.”

“Uh, no.  Don’t bother.  Alright, all hands prepare for jump!”  Little did he know, but this was to be the first, and smallest, of many misunderstandings to come.  

Aboard the Apocalypse

Already, and astoundingly for someone who had never seen a Titan before, Drake and his crew had already stashed Jack Cooper’s Titan, BT-7274 into the cargo hold, and were preparing for takeoff.  Currently, Drake was leading Cooper through the labyrinth passages of the Apocalypse, headed towards the cabins closest to the bridge where Jack was to have his quarters, Cooper’s measured military stride contrasting remarkably to Drake’s confident swagger.  They passed through the well-lit uniformly grey hallways of the ship, and as they went, Drake flippantly introduced passing crew members.

“And, of course, there’s Maria, very handy with a knife, laughs like a chipmunk when excited.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.”  Jack nodded at a disgruntled looking Maria as Drake continued his grand tour without pause.  

“There’s Ziwazzi, a Gunleron, who keeps pretending he’s tough, but he’s actually quote sweet; was kicked out of his planet’s premiere military school for stealing an actually astonishingly impressive amount of stuff.”

“Hey!  Captain!” replied an offending looking reptilian alien.

“Ziwazzi, you ought to know me by now,”  Drake turned to Cooper, “I am a firm believer that when meeting someone new, you should know their best and worst traits.  For instance, I am a rather nice person if you get to know me, have an excellent taste in fine arts, and donate a lot of the money I make to help orphans, but I am a shameless thief, a pyromaniac, and a massive playboy.  See?  Now you know everything you need to know about me.”  He spun on his heel dramatically and continued walking.  “If you ever need advice on fine arts or romance, I’m your guy.  Don’t hesitate to ask.”  They passed through more identical hallways and into the crew’s cabin section.  A door popped open and a woman stepped out from the cabin beyond, holding two dresses in her hands.

“Er, Captain, uh, I was wondering...well, you give good fashion advice-”

“Blue dress.  It highlights your eyes perfectly, is made of light synthetic silk with a cooling texture, so it will be more comfortable than the cotton one, and Jackson likes blue better, so it’ll be better for your date,” replied Drake without pause.  The woman turned bright red.

“How did you know that Jackson and I were-”

“Please.  I’m the Captain.  I know everything that happens on this ship.  I won’t tell anyone, though, unless it threatens security, everyone already knows, or you want me to.  Have a nice night.”  Cooper hurried to keep up as Drake started down the hallway again.  They reached another section of the ship before Drake stopped abruptly, almost making Cooper bump into him.  “And here, finally, is your cabin,” Drake gestured with a dramatic flourish.  “Pleasant dreams, try not to die.”  And, just as quickly as he had led Jack there, Drake vanished.  

Aboard the Enterprise 

John-117, more commonly referred to as “Master Chief”, was currently sitting in his new quarters aboard Captain Kirk’s ship, the Enterprise.  His helmet was on, of course, and a data pad, which the crew had called a “first contact package”, was in his armored hands.  It contained all the information regarding the species and governments within Kirk’s home galaxy.  Master Chief had found Kirk and the entire crew to be most agreeable.  They were all friendly, helpful, and normal, especially compared to the oddly uniformed commissar and the slightly looney Drake.  It was refreshing, really.  He hoped that this group, which he had been ordered to join to gain a better picture of the new galaxies, wouldn’t take up too much of his time.  It was, in the end, his job to prevent the collection of hostile aliens known as the Covenant from overwhelming humanity.  But such thoughts could wait.  He busied himself in the pad, learning as much as possible about his new reality.   

One Week Later

Aboard the Enterprise

It had been probably the best space voyage that Master Chief had ever experienced, although that wasn't saying much.  Most of the time, if he was in space, he was killing Covenant or on his way to kill Covenant.  But this...this was positively relaxing.  He had little to do, as the crew kept the ship running smoothly.  He spent most of his time reading up on the history of the various new galaxies that had appeared seemingly overnight next to his own.  The first contact package from Kirk was exhausted, and now he was perusing through an absolutely massive information report compiled by Drake.  Curiously enough, many of the files there were from official government sources and marked “classified”, several of which he recognized as top secret from his home universe.  He did wonder where Drake had gotten his hands on those.  Or perhaps, it was better not to know.  Speaking of which, he started to consider:  how was everyone else on the different ships of this makeshift fleet doing?

Aboard the Apocalypse

Jack Cooper stared, shell-shocked, at the wall of his cabin.  The past week had been probably, no, scratch that, most definitely, the most bizarre he’d ever witnessed.  The strangeness of it all was such that he had been like this, staring at a slate grey wall, contemplating life, for the past five hours.  Inevitably, the weirdness of the voyage all boiled down to one individual: Thomas Drake.  The man was, to put it exceptionally mildly, eccentric.  It had started on the tour, and only gotten worse on the first day of the tour; Drake had given Cooper free reign of the ship, and thus, like any other over curious human would, he had decided to unobtrusively explore, starting, of course, with the bridge.  It unfortunately coincided with Drake’s arrival to the command deck of said bridge, which was herald by several disco balls dropping from the ceiling, the playing of an altogether too cheerful tune for the time of the morning, and Drake himself disco-dancing his way through the bridge.  And, while Drake was actually quite a good dancer, it was much too strange for Jack.  Regrettably enough, though, it turned out that this was Drake’s morning routine.  A song, completely random, was chosen, and Drake would enter the bridge every morning with his characteristic dramatic flourish.  The second day Drake was to enter the bridge to a military march, his hands clasped behind his back, while he waved to a non-existent crowd as if he was in a parade, much to the delight of the bridge crew and the bemusement of Cooper.  The day after that he quite literally waltzed into the bridge to the symphonic melodies of some classical song that Jack was sure he had heard before, but could not put a finger on.  Drake had sat in his command chair and grinned at Cooper.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.  Your dancing is..quite impressive.”  Drake gave a strange, wheezing laugh at this.

“My dancing is quite impressive, yet my habits are quite strange.  Yes, yes, don’t be surprised,” he dismissed Jack’s glance and him with a wave, “I can see it in your eyes.  You’ve never seen anyone do this before.  ‘Why?’  I’m sure you’re wondering,”  Drake leaned forward on his chair, “The answer is quite simple.  Because I can.”  Cooper was about to interject, wanting to ask a question along the lines of “But why though”, before the ship itself was wracked by a massive force, causing several panels above the crew’s control stations to spew sparks.  

“What the hell was that?” asked Cooper.  Drake leaned back in his chair, unconcerned, and waved a hand dismissively.

“Something exploded.  It’s probably fine.”

“Probably?  What do you mean probably?  And shouldn’t that not happen, though?  I mean, I’m not an expert on spaceships, but isn’t stuff blowing up on your ship not a good thing?”  Drake shrugged.

“Eh, it’s fine.  If it were really a problem, the alarms would go off.”  As if on cue, the ship's alarm system started flashing red and emitting an ear-piercing shriek.  “Alriiight, now it’s a problem,” Drake said with a sigh.  “And I was just getting comfortable.”  He grabbed some sort of portable communication device and walked briskly for the door.  “Richter, what the hell happened?”

“Try and guess,” came the voice on the other end.

“Muelka?” asked Drake as he and Cooper half jogged through the hallways to the wails of the alarm.

“Yep.”

“I should have known,” replied Drake with a sigh.  They traveled through several more decks of the ship, going at an uncomfortable half-walk, half-jog, and finally reached an open area in one of the lower decks where several crew members were hosing down tiny fires with foam suppressant.  The area held quite a lot of what appeared to be chemistry equipment, and what looked like but Jack fervently hoped were not bombs.  One of the countertops, identical to several others throughout the room, was a scorched mess, with blasted and melted shards of glass scattering the floor around it.  And, in the middle of all the chaos stood a sheepish-looking woman with frazzled hair wearing some sort of protective apron, and an average-looking brown haired man with a scar across his forehead, who was currently busy staring at the destruction around him.  

“Right.  What the hell happened?” asked Drake briskly.  The man answered.

“Muelka was mixing chemicals, again, and they exploded, again, and the resulting shockwave loosened some wires and set off the alarm system.”

“Sorry, Captain,” the woman muttered.  Drake rubbed his forehead.

“Muelka, while I do love your work, you need to take better safety precautions.  You’re on censure, again, until I come up with something else.”

And, while it was gratifying to Jack that Drake did have control of his crew, his rather flippant attitude was something he was slightly concerned about.  But, the main point was Drake's overwhelming oddness.  At lunch, just the other day, Cooper had the misfortune to be at the mess hall at the same time as Drake.  Due to the nature of the Apocalypse being a mercenary ship and having many different alien species on board, the food served at the mess was much more numerous and varied in nature than any military ship.  However, Drake was simply not eating a typical meal, or for that matter, any form of unrecognizable food.  Instead, he had a plastic container filled with cheese spread, the type one usually puts on crackers.  However, Drake was not most people, and so he was eating the cheese spread plain.  By itself.  With a spoon.  Wonderful.  The worst part was that Drake then proceeded to get a bottle of aerosol cheese and spray that on top of his other cheese, creating some sort of cheese soup.  Honestly, Jack found Thomas Drake more concerning than the aliens, which was a feat considering that aliens did not exist in his home galaxy, and these were the first he’d ever met.  He sighed to himself.  This was going to be a long ride.

Aboard the Omen

Admiral Adam Vir sighed and tiredly rubbed his forehead.  The last week had been extremely taxing, even more so than the time where he was forced to bring a civilian tour group on board the ship.  Hell, it was probably worse than the first time he met aliens, which involved miscommunications, lots of treats, and eventually him rolling over like a dog.  It was complicated.  But back to the matter at hand.  The last three days (or was it?  He seemed to be losing count) were filled with nothing but tension and problems.  The first, and least concerning, was that all the alcohol on board the ship seemed to be mysteriously vanishing.  

Even the drinks smuggled in by the marines that he conveniently (for them) overlooked were somehow gone, spirited away from their hiding places by an invisible force.  But, by far worse, was the hostility between the Valhallan soldiers and the crew of the Omen.  The Imperial Guardsmen were intensely xenophobic and openly belligerent to all aliens on board the ship, so much so that that many members of the non-aggressive races would flee at the sight or sound of an Imperial infantryman.  It also very much did not help that said infantry always seemed to travel in packs, which just seemed to escalate the tensions.  

The third problem was that the human members of the crew were not immune to this either.  The Imperials seemed to regard them as traitors of sorts, and whenever human crewmembers walked by, Valhallan mutterings of “heretic” or “Gue’vesa” could often be heard.  The only ones the regular Imperial rank and file respected were himself, as he was the captain, and the engineers.  A group of Guardsmen had gone to the engineering department, predictably sneering at anyone who crossed their path, only to be put in their place by the furious head of the engineering department, Nairobi.   Ever since that particular incident, any members of the engineering crew were either avoided by the guardsmen or were given grudging, but respectful, nods.  Adam had originally thought the Imperials might get along well with the Marines, seeing as they both shared the bond of being human combat soldiers, and so had organized a joint training exercise for both groups.  It had gone...well...horribly.  The Marines loathed the Imperials for treating the other crew members so poorly, and the Imperials despised the Marines for harboring and living alongside aliens.  Both groups were now furiously competing to see which was better.  Drinking contests, arm wrestling, combat training, weapon skills, you name it, there was an extremely nasty competition going on between the two rival groups of soldiers.  There were several fights, most notably between Maverick, the Marines chaplain, and Magot, a Corporal in the Guard.  That particular fight had seen the spectators get involved, and two Omen crew members, one Marine, and three Valhallans were sent to the infirmary with critical injuries, several of which might have been life threatening if not for the ship’s two excellent doctors.  The only reason that no one had died immediately in that fight was because Ciaphas Cain had interfered, attempting to pull people off one another, and, when that didn’t work, firing his pistol into the ceiling, which resulted in an immediate secession of hostilities.  Adam didn’t care much about the damage done to the mess hall ceiling, which could be repaired, but he was very much fed up with the entire situation.  In fact, come to think of it, the only thing that prevented the two sides from outright trying to kill each other was the fact the Valhallans had enough respect for Cain and the two battalion commanders, Kasteen and Broklaw, to obey them no matter what, and that the Marines had enough respect for him even though the Imperials were threatening their crewmates.  Speaking of Cain, Adam really did wish he would come out of his office more.  At the beginning of the voyage, Adam had given Cain a personal quarters, which had been promptly transformed into a combination living quarters and Commissar’s office.  The problem was that Cain always seemed to be holed up inside, and to get inside, one had to cross Jurgen, the Commissar’s malodorous aide.  Jugen was always extremely polite and to the point, traits to be commended, but his personal hygiene was terrible, and many would rather just skip seeing the Commissar rather than wait near him.  To Adam, though, there seemed to be something fundamentally wrong about Jurgen, although what he couldn’t really lay a finger on.  Jurgen did have terrible body odor and rather bad psoriasis, but that didn’t seem to be the problem.  The problem was that whenever Adam got close to Jurgen, an odd, creeping, chilling sensation would occur.  There was nothing specific about Jurgen that made Adam feel this way, and that was probably the most creepy thing about it.  But, for whatever reason it was, Cain’s callers never wanted to stay around long enough near Juren to actually get into his office.  The only two people allowed to go straight inside were Adam and his first lieutenant, Simone, but they were so busy running the ship and trying to prevent the Marines from murdering the Valhallans in their sleep that they rarely got the opportunity.  But, in the end, he felt as if he had no choice but to meet with Cain to sort out this problem.  And so, he and Simone walked through the decks of the Omen, the aliens skittering in front of them until they realized they were no Imperials, until they reached the lower decks and the quarters of Ciaphas Cain.

Cain looked up from his paperwork as Jurgen ushered Vir and Simone in.  Truth be told, he wasn’t really doing any paperwork, but appearances had to be maintained.  They were, inevitably, here to talk about the mess hall fight and the general situation.  Well, they didn’t really need to know that instead of heroically trying to pull people apart, he had been stuck in the middle and was trying to pull people off of him.  But they didn’t need to know that.  He was forging a reputation with these new people, and it wouldn’t do to seem cowardly.  And, of course, it wouldn’t do to insult the aliens, possibly treacherous xenos that they were, as, if he did, he would probably get shot in the back by one.  And, above all else, Ciaphas Cain wanted to not die.  

The Admiral and his first mate sat at the two chairs across his desk, ones that had been provided by themselves.  

“Admiral.  Lieutenant.  A pleasure to see you.  What brings you here today?”  He knew, obviously, but pleasantries had to be observed.  

  “Why we’re here is because your troops are way out of line!  It is completely unacceptable and against regulations to insult someone based upon species.  You-”

“Simone-” said Vir in a warning tone.

“That’s perfectly alright,” responded Cain, who flashed a smile that would have charmed a fish out of water.  “I believe, after reading all the reports,” which was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that he was pulling all of this out of his ass, “that what we have there is a failure to communicate.  I’m sure you’d understand, Admiral Vir, as your reputation for dealing with aliens and different cultures is legendary.”  Well, he did know that Adam Vir was the first to make contact with non-humans, and was quite good at dealing with them.  And, of course, flattery never hurt.  “You see, where I come from, every single alien race believes it is their divine right to rule the galaxy, and will try to kill you on sight.  Consequently, it is a part of our society to kill any alien on sight, before they kill you.”  Simone and Adam looked stunned.  

“Every...every race wishes to...eradicate you?”  

“Yes,”  replied Cain.  “That’s why we have the imperial guard.  Of course, I am but a humble Commissar.  It’s the soldiers who do the real heavy lifting.”  Modest hero; a strategy that most people fell for, and these two seemed to be no different.

“That’s disturbing.”  

“Well, we seemed to have misjudged you, but we still have a problem,” said Vir.  “How do we prevent our respective soldiers from killing each other?”

“Well-”

“I-I have an idea,” said Simone.  Both Vir and Cain looked at her with surprise.  “I can captain the ship, and you two can switch places.  You’re both good leaders, and if you can explain to each other’s soldiers why we should not fight, then we have a chance.”

“That’s actually a very good idea,” responded Vir.

“I concur,” replied Cain.  No, I most bloody well do not concur with that frakkin’ idea.  I would prefer my head un-squished by ten-foot tall four-armed aliens, thank you very much.  But, it’s the only way that we have a chance at not ending this voyage with people dead.

“So, it’s settled, then.  You are in command of the ship, Simone.  I will take control-”

“Er, my apologies, Admiral, but I believe you misunderstand,” said Cain smoothly.  “I am not the commander of the regiment.  I am merely an adviser and moral officer, although I do hold some sway.  So, before we switch places, Admiral, what should I know about the...Drev and Marines?”  

“Well...uh, the Marines are typical human soldiers, I guess.  The Drev are a warrior culture who place a high emphasis on personal combat.  Otherwise, they’re not that different from us.  And your troops?”

“Valhalla is an ice world, and thus soldiers from that planet are very comfortable in cold temperatures.  I should also inform you, that you are now acting Commissar.  You are in charge of discipline, morale, and combat effectiveness of the regiment.  You reserve the right to take any necessary steps to restore order, including summary execution.  You have the full authority of the Commissariat until otherwise dismissed by me.  The Emperor Protects,” recited Cain, as if he was quoting something.

“Alright.  Wait, you have the authority to execute your soldiers?”

“Yes.  Although, only a foolish Commissar will do so unless absolutely necessary.”

“Uh, that’s...alarming, to say the least.  Anyway, let’s get to it, before more people get hurt.”

That’s that.  If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, or concerns, feel free to ask.  

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 4

Prompt: impaling

Read on AO3

Tally Marks

For Ahsoka, the war never really felt like a war. Maybe it was the fact they fought machines rather than men. Her lightsaber sliced through the durasteel plating of the battle droids as easy as the practice dummies in the Temple. She could pull wires out of their chests and watch the light dim from the bulbs in their eyes and that was about as sentient as it got.

She's only been in this fight for a few months. She has a mental tally of every droid she's personally dismembered, and a physical one on the wall of the clone breakroom next to Captian Rex's. It's a game, in a way. They yell out numbers on the battlefield. Some of the troopers like to use their armor to keep track in real-time. Battles after battles, the tallies creeping down the walls like a life sentence.

At some point, the color of the marker changed from black to blue, and for some reason, she can't get over the idea that their tally marker spent its entire ink supply making only three-centimeter lines, day after day.

Today she reached a milestone. One thousand battle droids laid to rest by the blades of her lightsabers since she joined the war at the Battle of Christophsis. One thousand clankers that don't get the opportunity to fire their blasters again. Ahsoka walks through the center of the now-deserted battlefield with giddiness in her step. A few of the troopers who fought alongside her offer high fives as they pass, congratulating her on her accomplishment.

Ahsoka is beaming. She feels like she is floating, eager to find Master Skywalker and tell him the great news. The young Togruta decides to cut through an alleyway to the next street where she can feel the Force Presences of both Anakin and Master Kenobi. Within the alley, there is a fork, and down the straight path, she can see Captain Rex and Commander Cody standing with their backs to her.

But even so, she stares down the other path. It winds behind the front building to some residential tenements of the small city. Though her Master and friends are ahead, there is something nagging at her to turn that way. Ahsoka senses no danger in the Force, and she taps her fingers against her commlink to make sure it's there. Following her feelings, she goes the other way.

The midday sun provides plenty of light in other places, but the apartments here loom high enough to cast a shadow over her passageway. Ahsoka pulls her cloak around her tighter, glancing into the windows of the evacuated homes.

Broken transperisteel clutters the ground where bombs dropped in the area and blew out the windows of the houses. She steps over the piles of rubble and puddles of who-knows-what until the near groan of pain catches her keen Togruta ears. She stops midstep, tilting her head to hone in on the noise. It's coming from the home at the end of the street. Ahsoka jogs ahead, her heart starting to pound faster as a few drops of blood along her path turns into a trail, and then a continuous line leading straight into the blown down door.

She peers around the corner, and every muscle in her body tenses.

Lying in the far corner of the house is a young boy. His chest heaves up and down in slow heavy draws as his hand clutches his leg. To her horror, a large piece of shrapnel sticks out of his thigh, impaling his leg, and the obvious cause of the blood smeared across the floor. His head rolls to the side, and he stares at her with a glassy expression.

"Hello," he rasps. A casual greeting for such a gruesome scene. Ahsoka finds her senses and rushes forward, falling at his side.

"You're hurt," she says, tearing off a strip of her cloak to tie a tourniquet. As though that fact wasn't readily obvious. To her surprise, he chuckles. Pushes her hand with the strip of cloth away. She looks at him, his big brown eyes filled with what she can only describe as peace.

"It's too late,"

"It's not! I--I'll bring you back to the camp, we have the best medics--"

"No," he shakes his head. "I am ready to die."

Her throat feels like it's closing. She closes the pieces of her cloak in her fist. "You're so young, though."

"Sixteen," he says. "Yesterday, actually."

His face grows paler by the second. Blood is pooling around him, around Ahsoka now, but she doesn't care to move. Instead, she takes his hand, startled by its icy coldness.

"Will you bring them to me?"

"Who?"

"My family."

"Of course, yes. Where can I find them? I'll go as quickly as I can."

He shakes his head. Slowly brings his other hand up to point. Ahsoka follows his direction to a holoimage on the wall. She stands, her knee leaving a clean imprint on the floor before the blood fills the space. She takes the holo off the wall, spotting the boy in the center of a group hug by others with big brown eyes and reddish-brown hair. A mother and father, brothers and sisters with wide smiles and shining eyes.

This is his family home. He is dying in his home.

She brings the picture to him, and he holds it in his lap, staring at the people. Reaching out as though he can touch the holo.

"Where are they?" Ahsoka asks. Hoping, praying they are in a camp somewhere.

"Where I'm about to go," he whispers. His eyes look from the holo to Ahsoka, and he smiles. "Thank you," he says, "for this gift you have given me."

She doesn't tell him she has given him no gift. If anything, she is part of the reason he lies here now. She is merely a bystander in a moment she feels she has no right to be a part of, but yet his cold fingers intertwine with hers. She takes hold of the holoimage that now falls from his other hand, and makes sure he gets to see it the entire time.

Strangely, in a way that feels far too detached to be real, watching the light leave the eyes of a sentient is a lot like seeing the bulb go out in a droid.

She isn't sure how long she sits there. Long enough that when she finally stands again the blood has dried into her pants, and it doesn't flow to fill her absence any longer. She can't stop looking at the piece of shrapnel that tears through the vessels and muscles of his leg.

A piece of a battle droid. A part of the arm, it seems.

Ahsoka feels like everything around her is obstructed by static. Nothing feels real, just like a horrible dream that she hopefully will wake up for at any moment. And yet, when her commlink rings and it's a message from Anakin wondering where she is, she doesn't wake up in her bunk on the ship.

She doesn't know their customs on this planet. Do they bury their dead or burn them? Doesn't even remember the name of the damned planet, which suddenly feels like a pit in her gut. So she does her best. Takes her lightsaber out and cuts the droid arm from his leg. Takes a blanket from the bedroom and wraps him carefully in it, his arms crossed comfortably and the holo pressed between his palms and his chest. When she emerges from the house, the sun is starting to hang low in the sky, the shadow of the alley even darker than before.

And yet somehow, she sees more this time.

She looks through the windows as she passes, not seeing battle anymore but devastation. Ahsoka can see the remnants of what used to be family homes. Holoimages flicker with limited power the faces of the people that escaped the city in the night. They had no time to waste when the call came in, packed nothing but what they needed to survive, and ran into the foothills. Established refugee camps where supplies will be funneled in the weeks to come until their city is rebuilt... though it may never be the same.

Couches covered in soft blankets and pillows where families would curl up on the weekends to watch holofilms. Trinkets lining shelves that probably meant something to someone at one time. Abandoned. Covered in glass and ash. Homes suddenly uninhabitable because of a war nobody here asked for. And as she takes stock of the neighborhood, she also realizes many of the homes have painted names above their thresholds-- a memorial for the names of their dead.

She blinks back tears. Nearly every door has names painted. Many with multiple. Their own tally marks.

Ahsoka runs back to the house of the boy, trying not to look at his bundled body as she searches for paint to at least give him this honor. Her stomach drops when she finds it already sitting next to the door, the brush still wet.

The names of his family already line their threshold.

Jebra

Imi.

Hales.

Yezha.

But as she raises the brush, a sickening revelation makes her burst into tears.

She never learned his name.

[bookocd]

Light as Air

Hi guys this is a Fenrys Fanfic that is set in the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash. I’m literally so excited about this and I have such a clear vision for where this is going to go. If anyone wants to be tagged when I update or has any thoughts for me PLEASE feel free to reach out. 

Summary: Fenrys see’s a powerful fae female after Aelin’s coronation and is given the task of finding her. Only he doesn’t know the secrets and chaos that he is about to unleash upon Orynth and himself. (A longer summary will be provided after this chapter! I just didn’t want to give any spoilers away)

Thank you for reading :)

Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: 

Ever since she was a little girl, she only ever dreamed of two things; a beautiful night sky with different constellations then she had ever seen in Terrasen, and a pair of violet eyes, only a shade darker than her own. She never understood these dreams, but it always felt as though someone was watching her, not in a scary way, but in a safe nurturing way. Like she would always have someone guarding her and giving her direction. 

This past night she had still dreamt of the same stars and darkness, but instead of purple eyes looking back at her, she was staring into eyes of onyx. 

She didn’t understand her sudden need to go back into the city gates and find the golden man and she sure as hell didn’t understand that feeling in her heart, in her soul, that he was also searching for her. That while she was dreaming of his eyes, he may be dreaming of hers. 

Obviously he was a warrior and a male of worth, he was literally blood sworn to the most powerful queen in history. 

What would he ever want with me, she thought to herself as she laid in her small bed. I’m nobody and I will always be nobody. Her insecurities clouded her mind, like a summer storm cloud.

The female looked around and saw just how much of a nobody she was. Her room was actually a hidden cellar, and past the shelves of vegetables and ale, her small bed was in the corner. The bed was for a child, not a fully grown fae female. When she slept at night, she either had to curl up into a ball, knees to her chest, or let everything past her knee go over the end of the bed. There was a small worn dresser with drawers that squeaked when opened, that had all the clothes she owned. Having never learned how sew or stitch, her wardrobe consisted of her fathers pants, which had never been long enough, loose white shirts, which also didn’t fit, and one single hooded cloak. The cloak was a deep navy blue that almost seemed black, and it was the one thing that fit her and the only reason her father had gifted it to her was so she could cover her ears, facial features, and her lean muscular body. It was also perfect for hiding her assortment of knives and other weapons. 

Her father had only ever given her three things: the cloak, her array of weapons, and the skills to fight and always win. It wasn’t just physical fighting either, he educated her until she knew history, mathematics, and science, he made her able to adapt to any situation, he made her witty and able verbally spare with anyone. He did not just gift her weapons, he molded her into one. 

She ran her rough crooked fingers down the soft cotton fabric, and thought about her father. He was a warrior turned scholar, and somehow knew that dangerous times were coming, so he moved himself and his only son, Smyth, along with some of his books into a small cabin. The extensive forests west of Orynth became their home and soon after the female’s home as well.

Pushing out the thoughts of her family and the impeding misery, she tried to figure out what to do next. It was obvious that she needed to wait until the other royals left before she could make her move. With so many powerful people, she would be too much of a threat, a risk, and if she was provoke… Her body shuttered with memories of torn flesh, burnt skin, and silent screams of terror. She willed her hands to stop shaking. 

She would wait until all the royals were gone, then she would go into the city and see if any opportunities presented themselves, and if these opportunities came from the golden male, she wouldn’t be upset. 

—

He had gone into the city and the surrounding areas every day for two weeks. He told Rowan and the others that he wanted to help with the initial rebuilding, while they were working on goodbyes and more diplomatic matters. Lorcan and Elide both did their calculating stares, Aedion coughed while saying “bullshit” which had Lysandra smothering a laugh with her hand, and Rowan pulled him aside and gave him a “stay safe” lecture. 

Aelin caught up to him when he all but ran out of the room. She pointedly grabbed his elbow and forced him to look her straight on. The three blinks she sent his direction, meaning Are you all right, immediately calmed him, but also brought him back into a dark place. He could never lie to her, so he responded with two blinks, No.   

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that thick head of yours or do I need to use force.” Aelin’s eyes sparkled with the treat looming in the air. 

He opened his mouth, a deflecting comment on the tip of his tongue, but she interrupted and said, “Rowan told me what you said, about someone else joining the court.” Fenrys’s head whipped toward the door they had just existed and swore he could feel the bastard male in there smiling. 

“Oh don’t get all pissy about it. It’s my gods damned court and I get to decided who joins it.” He knew she was being playful by the light in her face, but he couldn’t help the sharp words as they came out of his mouth. 

“I know that” 

Aelin then moved her hands to her sides and widened the gap between her legs. A fighting stance. She was wearing pants and a loose black top, and her leather boots were stained with mud. 

He didn’t want to fight with her, not with the one person who understood his pain. He didn’t want to push her away. 

Letting out a rugged breath and running a hand down the back of his head nervously, he said, “It’s nothing I just can’t figure out if I think this girl is a threat or one of us”

“One of us?”

“A dreamer.” Clarity finally filled Aelin’s eyes and her body changed from taunt to fluid. She ran forward and put her arms around Fenrys’s neck. He grabbed her and pulled her close with his arms around her middle. 

Hearing a growl, the two turned and found Rowan glaring and baring his teeth. Fenrys couldn’t help, but laugh, even if the result was a fist to the face. Rowan started toward Fenrys, but Aelin ran to him, jumped up, and put her legs around his waist. 

Rowan’s fury washed away into something more heated. 

Aelin turned one last time, “Go find her Fen. This group could use another female, all the males and their territorial bullshit is getting old.”

Chuckling as Rowan poked his queen in the ribs, Fenrys decided it was his time to leave. 

With his fae ears he could just make out what Aelin said to her husband. 

“Oh how I’m going to make you beg after that performance.” The returning purr told Fenrys that Rowan wouldn’t mind that type of punishment. 

—

It wasn’t quite spring, but Fenrys was still sweating. His tan skin glistening in the sun, while nailing boards onto The Tadpole Inn’s roof. The innkeeper, Annie, a sweet human girl who had inherited the inn from her parents, who had both fought and died in the final days of the war. Fenrys had never asked her age, but he guessed she was in her twenties, and with her blond hair tied back into a long elaborate braid, she never shied away from hard work. Fenrys instantly liked her the moment she picked up a shitty wooden hammer and worked along side him, asking him questions, and even telling him to leave when she had mastered what had been taught. 

She was one of those closest to the outer wall, and Fenrys constantly found himself up on the barges. The surrounding area’s were still all a battle ground, scars and all, but the forest and freedom called his name. 

His keen eyes searched and scanned the land in front of him, and then he turned and looked toward the streets of Orynth. In the past weeks, he had found himself getting more and more anxious at being cooped up in the palace. It wasn’t the company, but the confinement. But he would be lying to himself if he said that was the only reason for being out and scanning the winding streets every spare moment. 

A phantom wind lifted his hair, and he turned toward the strange warm breeze.

Fenrys froze. 

The wind was blowing into his face now and it hit him. 

Cinnamon. 

He shifted in a flash of light and ran south, toward the smell. 

Gods he hoped it wasn’t a pastry.

—-

Every time she was in this city, she kept to the shadows. When she was younger it was based on fear, now it was to observe. She kept far away from the palace, from the queen inside it. She didn’t want that yet, she wanted gossip. 

Her father taught her that people always talked, and if you listened hard enough, the truth would always emerge. 

She watched a woman with graying hair and winkles around the cornes of her dark brown eyes, slowly move wet laundry to a clothes line. The conversation with her neighbor included sharp clipped words and it rubbed the female the wrong way. 

“I’ve seen the queen every single day with that male of hers,” she scoffed at the word male and violently gripped her clothing. 

She continued with every word dripping with distaste, “I feel like the fae are going to be her priority, if her choice in companions says anything.”

The female thought out the words and analyzed the tone. The truth came to her fairly quickly: the woman was panicked. Their city and Terrasen, had been in a war and that has effected everything and everyone. She was scared that her and people like her, would be a second thought to their queen. The female didn’t blame the fake distain for the fae males in Aelin’s court, but the thing that did stick out to her was that the woman had seen the queen everyday. 

Those are the actions of a queen who cares, for not just the city she rules over, but the individuals as well. A queen who wants to look within, fix what has been broken, before moving forward. 

She didn’t know what to do with the information, but she had been hearing the same thing all morning. The queen was caring and wise. Someone that could be trusted. 

It was enough.

Looking around at the smiles, even with their city so broken, these people were resilient and they would come back stronger than before. 

Stepping out of the shadows for the first time, in broad day light, the female felt lighter somehow. She had no idea that her good mood translated to her manipulating the wind. All around her the air started to breath and stir, seeming to wake. 

Tomorrow, she decided, I will—

The screaming cut off her thoughts and ended her rare reign of the wind. Unlike others she ran toward the commotion and started to yell at people to get inside. It wasn’t until she saw what was coming down the stone street at a sprint, that she lost her voice. Standing in the middle of the road, it was impossible for her to melt in-between buildings or become a shadow. 

The golden wolf bounded toward her, and the scratching of its elongated claws against the ground was deafening. The muscles on its legs were straining with effort and its coat was near radiant in the beating down sun. 

The wolf stopped mere inches from her, panting and staring into her soul, giving her a clear view of its knife like teeth. The sheer height of the beast sent a shiver down her spine. The near black eyes reminded her…

Blinding light surrounded her with a feeling of warmth. It was too bright for her not to quickly put her hands in front of her eyes as a shield, a shield from the sun like rays. 

A heartbeat later, the light was gone and the female slowly moved her hands down and opened her eyes. 

The golden male was standing in front of her. And he had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

She was in fucking trouble.

[midnight-moonlight-and-mars]

Carbon Monoxide (Requested)

Warnings: Depression, Swearing, Fluff?

Summary: Tak is convinced Y/n is dead. The love his life was killed saving him from an impulsive mistake he made. Between the blame, the drinks, and depression everything was bleak and pointless. Until he arrives a Bancroft party to find what he knew was nothing at all. What really happened?

Requested by: @ravenclawsstolemybunies 

A pulse flows through the air in a gushing wave. Tak felt his whole body fall to the gorund and go completely numb as well the rest of the swarming mob of people.

Stack Shocker... FUCK

He looked for Y/n in the now fallen crowd of battered and bruised people. She had been thrown by the blast in the middle of the road. Blood pooled around her body pushed around by the freezing rain.

Tak fights through using every ounce of strength to get himself to her lifeless body, the blurring his vision and making his body numb.

Her heart beat was slow. The noise and chaos that erupted around them disappeared into a static and blurry cloud. His mind went fuzzy with adrenaline and ears ringing from all of the hits to his head. 

“Y/N??? Y/N!!!!”

Nothing.

Cold skin... Blood... wound. Cover it... Pressure...

“Y/n please... oh god please...”

....Analyzing Stack.... No signs of activity. Lifeless

Too much... too many... guns... police....Leave....Leave her...now. Go!

~Present Day~

Tak sat in the outside garden at Suntouch waiting on Bancroft to finish whatever the fuck rich people do in their spare time. It was nice and all but he saw past the pretty flowers and statues. He saw everything scum like these people stood for. But, he needed the money if he was going to ever get out of this shit hole.

“Mr. Kovacs! You’re early.” Bancroft made his way through garden alongside his wife, who just seemed to be very interested in Tak anytime he was around.

“I need to speak with your associates or friends. See if they have any grudges against you or your family. I need you to get them all into one place without raising suspicion. Can you do that within the next few days?”

“Of course Mr. Kovacs whatever you need to get this done. I assume you have a plan? Do you plan on someone confessing to you or do you have someone in mind? I will tell you they are snakes with their own secrets and scandals. Turning over these stones will likely cause some fuss. More than the one you’re causing already my friend...”

"It does work in our favor though. Many people seem more interested in attending now that you are honored guest." Bancroft's wife said eyeing him a little too hard for her husband being a foot away.

“If you can get it done leave the rest to me.” Tak waiting for no contest left as quickly as he came. He couldn’t stand to be there, let alone work for them to save his life. Besides, he needed a cigarette and a drink to prepare for whatever the fuck he was about to step into.

When Tak arrived at the Raven Hotel, Poe was quick to spark conversation that he was just not in the mood for. Something about news or the maybe the weather? He didn’t know and he really didn’t care honestly. The headaches were getting worse not to mention the weird hallucinations. Maybe it was the drugs he took yesterday... What was it? LSD maybe?

“Master Kovacs I also think it’s imperative that you...”

“Poe. Seriously? Shut the fuck up my head hurts and I really don’t have time for your questions or whaatever other shit you have to bother me with.”

“Are the headaches getting progressively worse now?” Poe asked worriedly. He knew the cause, but hardly knew what to do anymore, Nothing seemed to remedy these episodes.

“You’re not helping it either.” Tak took a long awaited drag of a cigarette out his pocket and tilted his back. He closed his eyes and let the smoke curl out of his mouth as he felt the flood gates in his mind give way. He could see Y/n's face appear out of the mist of darkness. The dark splattered blood on her face and the way her eyes looked so dead. He felt the same pain swallow his chest as before. The same one that tears through his skin and coils around his heart.

“Master Kovacs are you still with us?” Poe asked observing him closely.

Waking from his trance, Tak gave Poe one last glare before he finally took the hint and fazed somewhere else. Closing his eyes again, he resumed his dream. This time, though, was different.

He could still see her face, but there was no blood. She was smiling even. It seemed so real and she looked so lively. She was speaking incherently almost in a whisper, but he couldn't understand a single word. Tak reached for her but no matter how close he got, she would just grow farther and farther away. At one point he even began to chase her, but taking a final leap to catch her woke him from his dream. Why was this one different? What could it mean?

Getting up from his chair Tak felt his head spin in a whirlwind of thought. There was no way she could be alive. None. From what he can remember Y/n’s stack and sleeve were destroyed. Anyone that found her remains would have never let her live and surely destroyed her stack. Everything now is fuzzy but hes sure. What Tak remembered had to be true.

It just had to be... right?

Now Tak was questioning everything he remembered about what happened. The headaches were becoming worse and even came down with a fever from all the strain on his body and mind.

Poe appeared next to Tak who was lying in bed dripping in sweat. “Do you need anything? I can make myself rather useful in a variety of areas. Cooking, cleaning, or just simply an ear for someone to talk to.” Poe said avoiding eye contact.

“Fine.” Giving in, Tak talked about Y/n. he talked about her smile, her strength, courage, and of course how beautiful she was inside and out. Poe listened intently smiling at how much Tak was gushing about this mystery woman. But when Tak explained how he thought she died and how the details aren’t adding up, it sounded familiar. She died before Poe could meet her, which he disappointed to hear, but he was more saddened by the fact that Y/n’s death was still killing him.

“She sounds wonderful. You two seemed very compatible.”

“She was wonderful... Everything that I thought I knew and thought was solid proof is falling through my hands. I can’t think straight I can’t sleep... A part of me still thinks she’s alive but it can’t be true. Y/n would have found me by now she would be looking for me or let me know what was happening but...”

“Mr. Kovacs if she were alive.” Poe interrupted, “Y/n would very slim of an opportunity to meet you. We don’t know the circumstances she is in or even her whereabouts if Y/n were to actually be alive. Perhaps it is better to take what you have left of Y/n and hold onto it. If she is alive, it is completely out of your hands.”

Tak walked away from Poe trying not to agree with what he was saying. He took a moment to stand on the balcony, letting the cigarette slowly burn away. He looked at the lively and bright city before him, his heart slowly but surely breaking. Rain soon engulfed the city like a flame, completely soaking his clothes, and camouflaging his tears.

~Flashback~

“You know Taki, although I do hate being in the city, it always looks so beautiful at night. The lights, the noise. It’s all so... surreal.” Y/n spoke looking out onto the cityscape from their room.

Aside from the pollution and screaming and yelling, the lights mixing with the thundering rain painted a beautiful picture. The way the colors mixed in water drops and the way skies lit up with lightning had Y/n in awe.

“I hate it no matter what it looks like. It’s nothing but criminals, sex, and secrets and everyone else having to deal with it” Tak said snaking his arms around her and holding her close placing small kisses on her neck.

“Sex sounds pretty good right about now...” Y/n gave smiled giving Tak a kiss.

Tak took in her all of her features and the way the wind combed through her hair perfectly and her eyes were just endless. It was her original body, but she was more than just looks. He loved every part of her no matter what body she was wearing, and being with her made him the happiest man in the world.

“God you're beautiful.” he said pulling her slose as possible

“You’re not too bad yourself, Taki.”

“Ugh. Stop calling me that. It sounds awful.”

“Make me.”

 ~Present~

At Bancroft’s Party, Tak was observing all of his friends and how they interacted with each other, especially Bancroft himself. He didn’t see anyone suspicious, actually all of them seemed like it, but there were several people that stood out. For all the wrong reasons anyway. Aside from the frilly dresses to eight pounds of makeup to some people just completely naked, all seemed normal.

Tak continued to down a few more shots when the mood of the room seemed to calm. People began to buzz amongst themselves and cluster together when this woman appeared. She was pretty, everyone at the party was supposed to be. Yet, she had something they didn’t, it was a certain way she looked down at even the highest of the high of people that caught his attention as well as everyone else's.

She didn’t mingle with the other guests, in fact, she made her way straight to the bar paying no attention to anyone or anything but the drink she would take in her hand. The burning liquor seemed to relieve the now noticeable anxious expression on her face.

“Not a fan of parties I take it?” Tak asked watching this woman down two more shots of really strong liquor with ease.

The sound of Tak’s voice caused her to slowly turn her head towards him. Her expression was unreadable, and she was trying to find the words to say but couldn’t. After a moment she steadied herself and spoke.

“Not a fan of these assholes that's for sure. I have never been to a party like this in a while, and never without a certain special someone. Now that I am here I think I can manage these clowns all night. And by the looks of it, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself either mister.” She took a moment to take him in, she noticing he was fighting his own battle in this miserable place.

“Same situation you’re in I guess. Having to deal with their shit is a real fucking pain in the ass. You know these people?”

“I know of them, but they’re not why I’m here. I was looking for that special someone, it was rumored that they would be here tonight. Huge guest of honor I hear. I pulled all the strings I had in my back pocket to get into this party.”

“Over a rumor? Everyone likes an optimist I guess. I hope they’re worth it.” Tak downed one last drink before he tried to leave but her words stopped him.

"At least I think you are."

Tak paused for a moment. At first he was confused, he didn’t know this woman. But the more he thought about it, the more it actually didn’t make sense.

"Who the fuck are you?" He said more than aggitated thinking she was there to kill him or start something he had to finish.

“Taki, you still haven’t figured it out? So much for that envoy intuition.”

Taki?

“Y/N? It can't be. That's impossible your stack was...”

“It was ok. It was damaged only slightly but I needed a new sleeve for sure. This sleeve took a while to make and I had severe sleeve sickness afterwards. I was desperate to find you Taki. There is so much buzz around you now it was hard to get to you. I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner... Maybe I could’ve helped you with all of this I...”

Tak swooped Y/n into an embraced and kissed her. Even holding her was long overdue. He felt the grip on his mind release and felt his heart throb out his chest. Y/n melted in his arms and felt all tension leave her body. Between the tears and the I love yous, the time they spent apart was slowly erased.

Completely not caring about Bancroft and his death anymore Tak and Y/n navigated through the crowd and out the back door. Bancroft would have his head on a pike later but he didn't care.

Using the elevator they did their best to avoid cameras and other party goers who could point them out or stop them.

Tak waved down a cab and let Y/n slide in first. After taking a moment to breathe after practically running out of the place they both started laughing hysterically. He missed that laugh. Despite the new sleeve it sounded the same.

They began exchanging stories of their time apart, and Tak realized he had forgotten how badass Y/n can be. Her stories seemed more eventful and dramatic than he thought possible. It made Bancroft's death and party and cheap soiree.

When Tak took a turn spoke about how her 'death' affected him, Y/n's heart sank at every word. His whole demeanor changed and did her hardest to hold back the waterfall of tears in her eyes. All she wanted to was cradle him in her arms forever. He already had lost Quell, he shouldn't of had to lose her too.

They let the heaviness in the air between them fill the silence. There would be longer be a need for pain anymore. It was over.

The car soon came to a halt in front of the hotel and Tak had to brace Y/n for the storm that was Poe. In all honesty she couldn't wait to meet Tak's only friend through everything.

After an hour long interview with Poe, Y/n headed upstairs to Tak's room. He stayed behind to grab something to eat off of Poe to bring up.

The amount of bottles on the floor made her feel guilty. She knew he was alive and what happened but he didn't know about her. Even when he thought she was dead he looked for her and found nothing. There were times she questioned going back to him at all. Not because she didn't love him, because she thought he was better off. She thought wrong.

Hearing the elevator make it's way up she quickly got out her clothes and into one of his shirts on the floor. She laid on the bed trying not fall asleep on the extremely comfy mattress.

Tak stepped out of the elevator with drinks and something fancy on a plate but seeing Y/n he didn't think the food would even be touched. He just set it on the floor, took off his clothes, and slid into bed beside her.

She slid in closer to him and laid her head on his chest. His body felt so warm despite being out in the cold. Y/n didn't have a care in the world. Being in his arms was the only world she wanted any part of.

Tak took a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment and for once didn't feel any pain or guilt. At long last it was just silence and darkeness. He began to stroke her back just make sure she hadn't disappeared. Laying there in silence, just being in each other's presence after so long and given how exhausted they were from the last few hours was more than enough.

"I love you Taki. More than anything."

"I love you too Y/n/n."

"Ew don't call me that." Y/n giggled. "Never use it again."

"Make me."

There something Tak wanted to do before they closed in for the night. Something that took a moment for him to gather the nerve for. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he had to make sure he wouldn't lose her again.

Sensing his anxiety, Y/n looked up at him.

"What's on your mind Taki?"

...

"Marry me"

***************

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