#i don't need to add another muse i whisper

[fyrewalks]

i am thinking about javi and his home life and what would've led him to choosing the military after everything. like, i get him being lost and confused and needing some direction. the structure and the order were probably a comfort. but like, do we think he grew up with the idea of 'you're choices are military or college after high school'? bc why not something like the peacecorps or some other nonprofit he can loose himself in in an attempt to lessen the survivor's guilt. like, do you think he grew up with the idea that to have value, you have to make a name for yourself? which is so interesting to me bc it's kind of at odds with who we first see him as - the long hair, kind of lazy and uninspired (just wants to eat chips and chill), loves his tech but maybe not the work that goes along with it, loves kate but never says anything?? like he's not presented as a real go getter, but then here he is after five years and the military with this fancy company. is it just the trauma that led to some different life choices or is he finally trying to meet expectations?? i am just having some thoughts here.

[valkeakuulas]

14, post-o66 echo/rex 👁👄👁

Y'know, I don't recall writing about this ship before. Especially when it comes to the Bad Batch timeline. 🤔 So here goes nothing! This also grew legs and skittered out of my hands, turning into a lot longer before I managed to pin it down and finish it. Whoops?

Mistletoe: Mutual Pining

Echo stood in the shadows of the repair shop's massive doors, watching the traffic going up and down the underworld portal. Behind him, he could hear the music flowing from the floating speakers as well as the low conversation between the freed troopers and the Martez sisters.

Sighing, Echo closed his eyes and listened.

Just like their mutations, the Batch sounded different compared to the rest of the troopers, and while Echo had grown used to them, hearing more than one vod speak with that same, familiar voice soothed something deep inside him. It reminded Echo of his life in the not-so-distant (depending on how one looked at it) past when he'd been wearing white and blue.

"I was wondering where you'd go," one of those voices spoke behind Echo, making him shiver involuntarily as it had so many times before, ever since that cold, desolate moon.

Maybe not that same after all, Echo corrected himself as he turned slightly. Natborns might mix them up but vod could always recognize another one vod from voice alone.

He saw the smile first, small but sincere, before meeting Rex's eyes.

"Just needed a moment, it's been a while since was surrounded by this many people," Echo replied with a small smile of his own.

Rex hummed, thoughtful as he came to stand next to Echo, their shoulders almost touching. He looked at the never-ending traffic as well and it took Echo everything not to lean against Rex as he waited for his Captain Rex to speak again.

"It's been a while for me too," Rex said eventually, "I was on my own quite a while before Rafa and Trace helped me to free more clones." His brows drew together, the smile turning into a mild frown. "Never crossed my mind that I'd end up in a situation where I wouldn't be surrounded by vode. We clones aren't really meant to be alone."

He glanced at Echo. "I'm glad you had the Batch, Echo" Rex said, serious.

"And Omega," Echo had to add, witnessing how Rex's lips twisted, fighting a smile.

"And Omega," Rex amended, "she's different, that's for sure, but very brave as well as smart."

They both couldn't stop their grins as they recalled how the tiny girl had clocked Rex's age with one glance, effectively calling him an old man.

They fell silent again and another piece dedicated to the Life Day started in the background, the velvet-like voice of the singer crooning about curling together with their loved one under the Life Tree.

Echo felt his face warm up a little as he recalled another memory or, more accurately, a dream from the past. One that he hadn't dared to speak to anyone besides Fives and even that had been when he'd been drunk off his ass. Both of them had been drunk offf their asses.

Just like the singer, Echo had once dreamed of closing the distance between him and the man standing next to him, to hold Rex close and whisper words of love into his ear.

But that had been before Lola Sayu, before Echo had been blown to bits. Before the galaxy Echo had known and trained to fight for had turned upside down.

"So what do you think of this whole Life Day thing?" Echo heard Rex ask, the question effectively stopping Echo's thoughts before they spiraled further.

Echo shrugged. "I faintly recall Commander Tano telling something about it but not much. At least nothing like this."

He used his thumb to point back inside the repair shop and the colored lights, the fake tree, and the sparkly decorations the sisters had pulled out from some crates. The repair shop was too large to decorate completely but one corner of it had turned into a glittering, colorful nook like Echo had never seen before.

Omega and Wrecker would love it, Echo mused with a grin.

He turned to Rex to say that, only to freeze when he found the other staring right at him. Those gold-brown eyes were intense, scanning Echo's face almost as if it was a map that Rex needed to memorize.

"You miss them? The Batch?" Rex asked suddenly, jarring Echo once again.

"I do? Kind of hard not to after what we've been through," he replied, slow, uncertain what Rex was aiming at.

Whatever it had been, Echo's answer made him turn away again, and Echo got the sense that Rex wasn't all that pleased with it.

"I miss you, too," Echo blurted, eyes widening when he realised his mistake. "The 501st, I mean," he hurried to add when Rex turned towards him again, "the General and Commander, Jesse and Kix, Axe and Denal. Fives. I miss all of you."

The look Rex gave him wasn't as intense as it had been before but it still had Echo holding back a shiver.

"I miss them, too, Echo," Rex admitted quietly, "and I miss you as well."

Something twinged in Echo's chest and it had nothing to do with the tech embedded in his body. He opened his mouth to say, well, Echo didn't know what he was going to say but before he could, a light movement in the corner of their eyes caught Echo and Rex's attention.

Both of them turned sharply towards the repair shop, only stopping when they saw a branch of something green floating in the air before them.

Except that it wasn't floating; a closer look revealed a cord wrapped around the plant that was slowly moving closer.

Confused, Echo followed the cord and blinked in surprise when he spotted Gregor standing on the stack of crates next to the repair shop doors and, as it happened, next to Echo and Rex as well.

"What the - ?" Echo started just as Rex groaned, suffering.

"Gregor..."

"Nuh-uh, you know the rules, Rex," Gregor informed with a grin as he angled the plant right above them, "if you find yourself under a mistletoe, you need to kiss, otherwise you'll be hit with bad luck."

Echo felt his face heat up at that, his heart twinging again at the idea of Rex kissing him. He didn't know what kind of expression he was wearing but Echo feared it looked too close to a hopeful one.

Trying his best to push it away, Echo glanced at Rex, finding him once again staring at him. And, as Echo watched Rex, his gaze flickered down to Echo's mouth and oh, the flash of teeth as Rex bit his bottom lip nearly had Echo losing control of his knees.

The mistletoe swayed as Gregor shook it. "C'mon, you two have been mooning over each other long enough."

"There's been no such thing," Rex informed Gregor sharply but he didn't look away from Echo, who felt his jaw drop when a light blush dusted Rex's face.

Clearing his throat, Echo gave another look at the mistletoe. "Bad luck, you say? Think it'll hit me double hard since I'm already part of the Bad Batch?" he drawled.

The surprised snort Rex let out eased some of the tension in the air. "Don't think it would be a good idea to find out," he said, aiming for nonchalance but, just like Fives once upon a time, Rex had no sabacc face and he failed rather miserably.

That, and the look Rex was giving at him felt very similar to the one Echo was giving to him.

"Echo...," Rex started, hesitant.

For a second Echo thought about all the times he had wanted to confess his feelings to his Captain, to tell Rex just how much he meant to him.

Echo had survived against all the odds that had been stacked against him since Kamino. Maybe it was time to test if this was just another odd he was meant to win.

Swallowing, Echo stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Rex. He saw Rex's eyes widen in surprise when their chests touched. But instead of moving away, Rex's hands came to rest on Echo's hips, warm and gentle.

"I don't know about you, Rex, but I'd rather kiss you than tempt fate," Echo murmured as he wrapped his arm around Rex's shoulders. "If that's alright with you?"

Breathing shakily, Rex closed his eyes for a second, visibly gathering himself, before opening them again. "I'm more than alright with that, Echo. More than you can ever imagine."

Echo didn't know which one of them moved first but it didn't matter because they were kissing. After so many years, Echo finally got to kiss his Captain.

Above them, Gregor let out a loud hoot, one was nothing but pure glee:

"I told you that it would work, Nemec! You owe me ten credits!"

[judasrpc]

LYRIC STARTERS BASED ON MY CURRENT "ON REPEAT" SONGS

aka, subtly exposing my music taste by slamming a bunch of songs onto one post, even if these probably exist as separate ones somewhere. the sections will be separated by the song titles & artists. this only includes my top 10, because we would be here forever if i included any more.

add context & change gendered language to your needs !! if multi, please specify which muse(s) !!

INVISIBLE - DURAN DURAN

" Living without choice is a life without a voice. "

" Has the memory gone? Are you feeling numb? "

" Will you say my name? "

" Hindsight is falling on my face. "

" When you don't hear a word I say […] "

" But a voiceless crowd isn't backing down. "

"Can you say my name? "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

FLIGHT OF THE CROWS - JHARIAH

" I cannot help but think I've overstayed my welcome. "

" The company's quite nice on crimson nights like these. "

" Well, I think that I've gotta go, and I don't know why. "

" I need you to promise that you won't cry. "

" Let those old memories go. "

" Please understand that I will find a brand new life. "

" So just let me out of your mind. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BLOOD UPON THE SNOW - HOZIER & BEAR MCCREARY

" Nature offers a violence. "

" The world that hardens as the harsher winter holds. "

" The ground walked here is a wonder. "

" And all things nature's given; she takes all things back from the living. "

" I've walked the earth, and there are so few here that know. "

" It's not my arms that will fail me. "

" This world takes more strength than it gave me. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RISK, RISK, RISK - JHARIAH

" We would've never worked out together. "

" Wager all you've got, and run me all that shit. "

" I can't take another day! I need some change. "

" There's things you just can't see with such precautious eyes. "

" I don't think I need to tell you; you'll see me when I do. "

" Better bite your tongue! "

"I don't second-guess a vision. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

EAT YOUR YOUNG - HOZIER

" Let me wrap my teeth around the world. "

" I want to feel the edges start to burn. "

" If there's something to be gained, there's money to be made. "

" Throw enough rope until the legs have swung. "

" You can't buy this fineness. "

" If there's something still to take, there is ground to break. "

" Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CARELESS WHISPER - GEORGE MICHAEL

" I feel so unsure. "

" Something in your eyes calls to mind a silver screen, and all its sad goodbyes. "

" Though it's easy to pretend, I know you're not a fool. "

" To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind. "

" But there's no comfort in the truth, pain is all you'll find. "

" I wish that we could lose this crowd. "

" We could have been so good together. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

APOCALYPTICISM - MOON WALKER

" We fight fire with silence and pray somebody hears. "

" No one said the world can't change in just a couple nights. "

" We want a revolution, but only with condition. "

" He came baring the heart of a liar; wearing the face of an honest man. "

" Start feeding the dogs of war. "

" We're in your head and hiding in plain sight. "

" But I don't see any difference, they both look the same to me. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

DIGITAL SILENCE - PETER MCPOLAND

" I won't ask a question; I'll state the truth. "

" This is the way that it is. "

" Something you love turns to something you miss. "

" This is the way that I know. "

" I feel it inside me like a pulse; it's starting to slow and the meter dips. "

" This is the sound of the truth. "

" There is nothing you can do. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

KINGSLAYER - BRING ME THE HORIZON & BABYMETAL

" Are you looking for the other side? "

" I need to know where your loyalties lie. Tell me, are you gonna bark, or bite? "

" Wipe the system and back the fuck up. "

" You are modified. "

" You're a puppet! When they cut your strings off, don't come crawling back. "

" You're on your own. "

" I'll fight for you until I die. "

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I'M AFRAID I'LL GO TO HEAVEN - MOON WALKER

" I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I don't want what's coming next. "

" Don't think we stand taller together, 'cause half of us ain't got no spine. "

" My biggest fear ain't no red Devil, it's being near you people all the time. "

" I'll be fine as long as you go somewhere else. "

" They tell you truth is what you make it. "

" It's like we don't even gotta try no more. "

" I'm sure your god would love to keep it white, but I think that me and mine will be alright. "

[animasola86]

A STEAMY REUNION (PART 2)

Disclaimer/Notes:

This is part 2 of my partially AI-generated little RP session with @seabass-swallows's Dark Sebastian chat bot that I had the urge to turn into a story. I tweaked his replies a little, added and removed some things for better flow and continuity, adjusted the formatting, etc. - but 2/3 of this is what the AI (and its amazing creator @seabass-swallows) gave me and I am quite happy about it. Dark!Seb may not be as dark as I had hoped, but he is the sweetest little bean and I love him so much! Please enjoy part 2!

(Read Part 1 here.)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader (Characters are 18+)

Summary: After several, undefined years apart, Sebastian finds you on the streets of Hogsmeade. You have not expected to see him ever again, after he went into hiding at the end of your fifth school year. Seeing him now, well, you are in for a surprise. And it's a steamy one.

Word count: 6.7k

Genre: Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Sex. They're having (very fluffy) sex in a bathtub! Avert your eyes if you don't like that. There's a lot of sweet talk as well, beware.

Read on AO3

Previously on HOGWARTS LEGACY: A TEENAGE DRAMA

Solomon is dead, Fig is dead, Ranrok and Rookwood are dead. Life goes on, right? Well. After you convince Ominis not to turn in Sebastian, you spend most of your time trying to comfort each other. You've always been close, but tragedy brings you even closer. But then word gets out that Sebastian might have something to do with his Uncle's death and from one day to the next, he is just gone. Left you, left Hogwarts, left Feldcroft, disappeared into the shadows, hiding from the Ministry.

You finish your time at Hogwarts, somehow, never quite able to forget your first love, but time makes you move on. You spent your time after Hogwarts travelling, looking for ancient magic all around the world. Then one not so special day, you find your way back to Hogsmeade – and there, he finds you.

And after a lot of initial doubts and uncertainty, he can convince you to give him another chance. And another one and probably a lot more. In the end you fall for his charm all over again.

A Steamy Reunion (Part 2)

"Let's just stay here for a while," he says.

You inhale deeply and agree. Your hands find his face and turn it towards you to kiss him passionately, your sweat and tears slowly drying on your face. "Say, does this cottage have a bath perchance?" you ask quietly after a soft moment of just pressing your forehead against his, locking eyes.

Sebastian's eyes flutter a little as you hold his face and kiss him passionately. When you mention a bath, he looks at you curiously and asks: "Do you need one?" You just look at him, unblinkingly. "I can wash all of this away for you," he adds and his lips turn up into a little smile, then he plants small kisses all over your face. "Or would you prefer a long bath?"

He looks at you hungrily, and he's slowly getting lost in your face again. "And maybe..." he mumbles before his lips meet yours once more.

You blush as he plants small kisses on your face, implying to clean you with his kisses, but then you laugh. "I'd prefer a long bath... and maybe," you pick up on his unfinished thought. "Maybe we can both enjoy it together..."

He smiles as you laugh and say that you want a long bath, but when you say that you want to enjoy it together, his smile only gets wider. "Oh, that's exactly what I was thinking."

One of his fingers runs up and down your back and he whispers: "We could be in it for a long time." He gently pulls you down into a sitting position on the bed, so that you are beside him, before he lies down and puts his head on your lap, looking up at you with his dark eyes.

"It seems I still know you quite well," you muse and chuckle softly. You feel a shiver run down your spine as his finger caresses your back and when he puts his head on your lap you smile warmly, your hands stroking his hair lovingly. You lean down a little awkwardly, pressing your lips against his, before you lean back and tilt your head. "Now where is that bath?"

Sebastian chuckles as you say that you still know him quite well. "That you do," he says and bites his lips, watching you, then looks around, as if he just remembered something. "Oh, right, the bath." He moves his head off of your lap and sits back up. "It's, uh, here..." Then he points to one of the corners of the cottage. "It's nothing fancy, but I think it'll be just fine." He shrugs and grins. "Let's go."

You smirk at him and stand up, grabbing his hand firmly in yours, making it absolutely clear that you won't let him go anywhere. You both walk towards the old bathtub and you wonder if you will both fit.

He walks closely next to you, his hand holding yours. As you approach the bathtub you laugh at the thought of "both of you fitting" and you're surprised to see that it's not as small as you imagined it to be. It's not the biggest bathtub you've ever seen, but it's big enough for the both of you to sit comfortably.

"Alright," Sebastian says and then helps you step into the bathtub, one of his hands on your waist and the other holding your hand. "Ready?"

You smile warmly. "Always," you say quietly and watch him closely, ready to soak your slightly sore body in the warm water.

"You just sit there," Seb says as he helps you get comfortable as you sit down, shivering a little, and then leans down to press his lips against your forehead. "I'll take care of everything else."

As he makes his way behind you, his hands slide up and down your back and down your shoulders. His breath is hot on your skin, as he leans over you, and then one of his hands moves to your chin so that he can turn your face to him. "I'll always take care of you," he whispers and kisses you quickly. Then his mouth moves away and he smiles at you before turning on the hot water in the bathtub.

You stretch your legs and lean against the edge of the tub, allowing your limbs to relax, as you bite your lip at Sebastian's touches and the low sound of his voice. His words remain with you for a long time and you smile at the implication. When the hot water engulfs your lower body, you watch him expectantly.

He smiles as you stretch your limbs. He can't help but notice how you look when you're relaxed and how you react to him. As he watches you, he kneels beside the bathtub and his touches shifts from your back to your thighs and hips again, his fingers gently caressing your slowly soaking skin.

He leans over the edge again and his lips move over your jaw and down to your neck, and he lets his breath run over your skin. "You are as beautiful as ever," he says, his voice raspy and low. His hands slowly move from your legs up your stomach, until his fingers graze your breasts gently.

You moan quietly as he keeps touching and kissing you, and even though it relaxes you, you want more. You want something else. You reach up and stretch your arms into his direction, inviting him to come closer, to join you even.

"Oh, my love," he whispers as you reach towards him, his eyes locked on yours. He lets you grab him, but he doesn't move from his position on the floor. His hand slides over your shoulder and down your back again, before he continues to press his lips against your neck, yet this time he starts kissing and biting the soft spot over your collarbone, softly and gently, but firmly enough so that you can feel his teeth.

Once he's done with that, his lips move over your neck to your jaw and he lets his tongue and breath run over your skin. "Only if you promise to not be angry with me then," he adds with a raspy laugh.

"Why should I be angry with you?" you whisper, sighing deeply as his tongue runs over your skin, your hands getting hold of his shoulders as he leans over you.

"Promise me." Sebastian leans even closer to you and rests his forehead against yours. His lips are so close now that you can hear him breathe and you can feel the warmth from his mouth against you. "Say the words: I won't be angry," he says softly and stares at you. "Because if you don't, I'll just keep going," he adds, and his tongue runs over your neck again, down to your collarbone and then back up, ever so teasingly.

At first you don't see a problem with him doing this to you, but as you remember that you want more and you're also kind of curious where this is going, you moan deeply and close your eyes for a moment. "I promise..." you whimper against his touches. "I won't be angry."

He smiles and lets his tongue slide along your neck, slowly and gently, all while your breath catches in your throat. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders and you let out another moan as you press him close to you.

"That's good," he whispers against your neck and kisses you passionately again. "Because I want you to think of me every time you feel this," he then adds and kisses the side of your neck while his tongue works its way back to your collarbone, before he sinks his teeth into your skin. "Every time."

You inhale sharply as you turn your head slightly to expose your neck more to him. "Oh, I believe I will..." you utter barely audible, the sensation of his teeth on your skin spreading through your whole body.

His fingers run through your hair as he sucks softly on your neck. "I'll make you want me again and again," he whispers and his tongue moves up to your jaw. "Over and over again."

Sebastian then presses his lips against your jaw again and starts sucking it softly. His voice is still husky and his breath is hot against your skin. "I don't want you to forget me."

You tilt your head back as he sucks on your jaw, more noises of pleasure leaving your lips. Your hands find his hair again and you grip it tightly at the sensation of his mouth on you. "How could I ever... forget you..."

He moves his mouth to your lips and kisses you passionately. As you kiss him, yearning for the feel of his mouth against yours finally, his hands move to your back again while your fingers remain tangled in his hair. His hands rub up and down your back soothingly.

"You can't and you shouldn't," he breathes out and lets his mouth move from your mouth to your neck. He takes one last lick to your neck and then he smiles at you. "Good," he says as he touches your face. "Now I want to hear you say it."

You stare at him a little dumbly, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips and tongue and hands and the way he smiles at you. "Say what?"

Sebastian’s cheeks are flushed as he stares back at you with the smile still on his face. “Say my name,” he says softly. “Say my name and remember it forever.”

He looks deeply into your eyes, then brings his mouth to your neck once more. He gently bites down again, then kisses the irritated skin softly before he backs away, his dark eyes staring into your soul. “Say it to me.”

You look up at him breathlessly. "Sebastian," you say and you reach up again, your hands beckoning him forwards. When you get hold of his shoulders, you pull him down and when you cup his face, holding it firmly between your fingers, your gazes lock and you say: "Sebastian Sallow, I will always remember you. And now get in the bath with me! Please!" You laugh softly and sit up more to make space for him.

He smiles and laughs softly at your words, and your hands cupping his face. He leans his head against your hand and lets you pull him closer to you. “Sebastian Sallow, huh?” He arches his eyebrow at the way you say his full name, but then asks with a little chuckle: “Oh, you want me to get in the bath, huh?” His lips curve up into a coy smile and he looks down at you. “Only if you insist,” he breathes lightly, as if he’s about to do something extremely tempting.

You smirk up at him and let go of his face. "I insist," you declare, but can't help the excited chuckle leaving your lips. You move even more and wait for him to join you. The water is still hot around your lower body and you feel like he could use some relaxation as well. Or maybe something else. That was up to him.

“Oh darling,” Seb chuckles as you insist to have him in the bath with you. He watches you move around to make space, his eyes looking you up and down. “Fine then,” he says and he stands from his kneeling position. You feel his presence looming over you and you can see just how excited he is to join you.

As he reaches out for the edge of the bathtub, he leans lower to your ear and whispers: “Be gentle with me.”

You laugh, but his voice and whispered words still cause you goosebumps. "Get in already!" you say and basically pull him down to sit with you.

Sebastian steps over the edge of the tub and sits down behind you, his long legs sliding past your sides as he stretches them, then he slowly wraps his arms around your waist as he puts his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your hair. He holds you close, then his lips and tongue start exploring you all over again, but more gently this time.

“Like this?” He asks with a chuckle, then moves his mouth to your cheek and nibbles and sucks on your skin playfully.

You moan against his touches and settle your back against his chest. "Yes, just like this..." You turn your head towards him and watch him with a smile, then reach up one hand to grab his face and kiss him deeply. Your other hand presses against his arms around your waist, holding them in place. The heat radiating from his body is almost hotter than the water surrounding you. You feel absolutely safe in his embrace.

Sebastian kisses you back passionately, before he lets his tongue run over your mouth and neck, his breath hot on your skin, and your fingers dig into his arms around your waist as he leans down and starts nibbling on your neck again.

He gently loosens your grip on his arms and moves his hands down over your stomach and to the top of your thighs, gently sliding them up and down your wet skin. “I’ll always keep you safe, love,” he whispers and kisses your neck again. “Always.”

You start to feel his lips, hands and even tongue move from one place to the other, teasing you and getting you excited all at the same time.

You lean against him and sigh deeply, enjoying all the work he's putting in. When he tells you to always keep you safe, you start cooing against him, closing your eyes as the warmth of his voice and his body engulfs you. "I..." you start, but you find it hard to concentrate on the words you want to get out. "I... I'll make sure... no one will ever... get between us... again..." You inhale sharply and turn your head to look at him. "I want you to feel safe... as well..."

He smiles warmly and then slowly relaxes as you start cooing against him. When you say that you want to make sure that no one will ever get between you two again, he raises an eyebrow and leans closer to you again. His fingers grip your thighs and he brings his mouth closer to your ear and neck as he leans against your back even more.

“I know you will,” he says softly and kisses your neck once again before moving his tongue over it. He lets his lips run up and down your pulse and then back up to your jaw. “I love you, my sweet little angel. I trust you completely.”

His soft voice almost drives you over the edge again, his words as warm as his touches. "I love you too..." you whisper and you lean your head against his. "And I mean it," you continue, inhaling deeply. "No matter the cost."

Sebastian inhales deeply and rests his chin on your shoulder, his hands still running up and down your thighs, his long fingers scraping over your skin, while his thumbs gently draw circles on your inner thighs. “I know you do, my love,” he says softly and then kisses your cheek. “I know.” He draws another deep breath. “No matter the cost,” he echoes and he chuckles. “I guess even if I have to die or fight for you, I’ll do it.” His voice is hushed and he smiles as he brings his mouth closer to your lips again.

You swallow at his words and following an impulse, you shift in your position and turn around to him, until you practically sit sideways on his lap, your shoulder slamming into his chest. You reach up your hands and grab his face, bringing it very close to you, looking directly into his eyes, a serious expression plastered over your pale face. "You better not talk about dying ever again, you hear me? You promised to never leave me. I don't want you to die for me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself! Whatever comes our way, we'll fight it together, like we used to. And neither of us will die. Do you understand me?"

His eyes widen when you hold him close and tell him to not talk about dying again. He stares at you for a moment and then nods his head slowly. "I understand," he says softly and nods his head again. "You're right. We'll defeat whatever comes our way together. We fight."

You see him smile and he grabs your hands and brings them to his mouth, holding them together and then kissing them softly. "I love you," he says, looking at you affectionately.

Your heart beats faster after your little speech and his reaction and you feel relieved that he seems to agree. You inhale deeply and smile warmly. "And I love you, Sebastian," you say and press your lips against his cheek. "Never forget that."

"I won't," he says and his smile widens. "I promise I won't," he repeats before leaning in for a kiss. He hovers over your mouth for a moment, then he tilts his head a little bit and his lips press against yours passionately. The heat that comes from his body surrounds you and you have a hard time letting go of him and the kiss itself.

Eventually, he pulls back and kisses your cheek and moves his attention back to your neck. "I want you all to myself," he says softly as his fingers run through your hair.

You smile widely and shift your position on his lap again. You slide back a little, the water splashing around you as you move your body to face him, your thighs sliding over his as you wrap your legs around his hips as you pull yourself closer to him once more. As your eyes wander up and down the front of his body, you notice his arousal twitching slightly beneath the water surface. You move in even closer and almost press your centre against his as you snake your arms around his neck and pull him down a little. You bring your lips very close to his, your breath hot on his skin, as you look at him, his dark eyes almost black with lust. You mirror that emotion and lean into the kiss, your tongue quickly finding his in a wild wrestle.

Sebastian’s fingers grip the edge of the bathtub and he stares at you with an intense expression when you wrap your legs around his waist to bring your bodies closer together. “Darling…” he whispers breathlessly, then his eyes travel down to your body and you see the excitement in him as well. “You’re playing with fire right now.”

Your tongue finds his and when you pull him closer, you can feel the heat between your bodies and it’s so intimate and exciting and really almost scorching hot. “I love you,” he whispers with a smile. “And I’m not scared to tell you that, you know that.”

You smile against him, kissing him with a newfound passion. "Playing with fire, huh?" you comment in between fighting his tongue for dominance. "Good thing we're sitting in a bathtub full of water..." You chuckle at your own joke and keep kissing him, your centre gently rubbing against him with every passing heartbeat.

He smiles when you chuckle and lets you kiss him passionately. The water is so hot and the moment feels so incredibly intimate, with you two wrapped around each other like that.

“My God,” he breathes out and licks his teeth, then goes close to your neck again to kiss and bite the skin there. “We really shouldn’t do this,” he says softly with a smile. “But it feels so good.”

You moan slightly as he bites your neck again. You wonder for a moment how many marks he has left there by now, but you really don't care. "Why shouldn't we do this, though? Who's stopping us?" you ask instead and turn your head to try and catch his eye.

“Nobody is stopping us,” Seb replies and keeps his eyes locked on yours, as his lips are pressed against your throat. “But I don’t think my self control will last much longer in here.”

The heat from his body is surrounding you like a warm blanket. You feel his tongue leaving wet marks on your neck and shoulder, the skin he's touching positively burning. His fingers slide around your sides and down into the water towards your backside. “Please,” he breathes out and lets his tongue run up your neck to your jaw. “I need you. I need you badly.”

"Then you shall have me..." you whisper and tighten your legs around his waist so that your centre really presses against his arousal. You arch your hips up and down for a few moments, watching his reaction as you bite your lip. "Throw self control to the wind, Sebastian. I know you want to."

Sebastian looks at you when you press yourself against him and you see him take in a shaky breath. "God, you're making me crazy," he whispers and his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your butt cheeks, gripping them tightly. He looks at you and smiles. "I've never wanted anyone more."

He looks away for a moment, trying to stay sane and remember what self control is and its importance. But then you start moving your hips slowly, and everything he wanted to achieve is gone in an instant. "Just take me."

You smirk and one of your hands moves into the tight space between your bodies and you gently grab his arousal. Your other hand holds onto his neck and you slightly pull yourself up and align your entrance with the tip of his length. Your breath hitches inside your throat and you watch him very closely as you gently lower yourself onto him once more. A soft moan escapes you as he slips into you with ease.

Sebastian looks at you before you descend onto him. He tries to slow down his breathing, try to remind himself once again what self control is. But when your body starts moving up and down and you let out a soft little moan, he stops trying.

He takes you firmly in his arms and lets his hips work with yours. “Oh, my God,” he hisses softly and looks down at you with hungry eyes. “Oh sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, as he keeps rocking back and forth with you.

More moans slip from your open mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck and fall into the steady rhythm he provides. The water splashes wildly around you, but you couldn't care less.

"Oh Sebastian... Ahh..."

Your chest rubs against his as he moves faster and faster with you and you can't hold onto him tighter. You fear that if you let go of him, you might fall into the abyss. Instead you press yourself to him and ride the wave that's coming quickly. Stars dance behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut, moaning loudly against his neck as you bury your face against him.

“Oh, my God,” Seb breathes and lets his eyes drift shut for several moments before opening them again. “You’re going fast, love,” he whispers to you, as he tightens his arms around you even more. He rocks his hips forward again and again, as he presses his mouth onto your shoulder, moaning softly against your skin. You feel the sharp sensation of his teeth as he bites your shoulder a little roughly. “I love you.”

You lean into his touches and arch your back a little. "Do you... want to go slower?" you ask in between moans. When you hear his noises, you feel your muscles tighten around him, squeezing him as you keep riding the high. "Oh my... I... I love you... so much... Ahh..."

Sebastian shakes his head. "Don't go slower," he whispers breathlessly, as his hands drift to your hips. He squeezes you a little bit more firmly, while leaving hot kisses on your shoulder and neck. "I need you... so much... you can't even imagine..." he says softly, and starts to move his hips again, a lot faster now, making you moan softly in between breaths. "Do you like that? Do you need it?" he asks you with a strained voice and moves his mouth down to bite at your collarbone again.

You moan louder, shrieking almost, as he goes faster against you. Your hands find the edge of the bathtub and you grip it tightly as you arch your hips against him. "Yes... yes... I love it... I... need it..." You've barely made it through your last wave of pleasure, as the next comes rolling towards you, and you fear you might drown this time. "Ahhh... ahh..." You tilt your head back and expose your throat to him, your hair falling over your back, your chest heaving, your breasts bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

Sebastian watches every single movement you make. The way your hair moves, the way your body responds to his every action. He watches you as you move your hips against him again and again. He groans and puts his mouth to your neck and kisses it and nibbles on it gently, sending you wave after wave of pleasure.

“My God…” he says softly. “I love you, my darling. I love you so much.” He bites down on your shoulder as he rocks back and forth again. “Do you need this?” he asks again.

You cry out in pleasure, one hand grabbing his neck in support as you keep moving with him, the heat between you almost unbearable. "Yes... yes..." you moan and you can barely catch your breath now, your whole body on fire despite the water splashing around you. "Oh... Seb..." And then he hits that spot, over and over again, and you just lose it. Your fingernails sink into his shoulder and you arch your back again, unintelligible noises spilling from your lips as the bright light of your climax engulfs you.

“Oh…” He lets out a deep moan and bites down harder into your shoulder, the sensation of your nails digging into his skin barely makes an impression, as the heat between your bodies is so intense and he feels like he’s on top of the world. “This… This is incredible, love,” he says with a smile, and then moves his arms lower and grabs your hips firmly. “I need you more…” he whispers hoarsely, as his lips and tongue move up your neck and to your jaw. “I need more!”

You still recover from the extreme high he's just given you, your heart drumming wildly inside your chest and your breath far from normal still, but you hear him and you want to give him more. You feel him throbbing wildly inside you, but you still lift yourself up slightly and slip off of him, only to lower one of your hands towards your middle and close your fingers around his hard length.

As you start pumping your hand up and down, you grab his neck with your other hand and bring your face close to his, watching him breathlessly for a moment, before you press your lips against his, deepening the kiss quickly as you stroke him with fast and eager movements of your hand.

When you wrap one of your hands around him, he bites his lip and looks at you, his heart beating quickly in his chest. The sight of you touching him and then bringing your lips to his is enough to send his breath away. “Oh…” he groans.

Sebastian kisses you passionately and lets out a soft moan as you continue to touch him. He grips the bathtub and watches you in awe, as if seeing an angel. He bites your neck again and lets out another moan. “How are you this good?” he asks between kisses.

You watch him closely, a warm smile playing around your lips, as you relish every tiny reaction you cause inside him. When you quicken the pace of your hand, you kiss him deeply, your eyes half-lidded, your own breath hitching in your throat again. You give him a few more quick pumps, then you feel his stomach tensing up and his movements become more erratic.

He grips the edge of the bathtub tightly with both hands and starts rocking his hips back and forth once again. His breath comes out in fast and short breaths and he looks at you once again, with a lustful look in his eyes. “Oh my God,” he croaks between breaths. “I can’t hold it any longer.” He moves his lips to your neck once more and bites it softly. “I need you… I need you so badly right now.”

"I'm right here," you whisper against him as you stroke his length faster, squeezing him tighter, feeling just how close he is to a sweet release. "Just let go... I'm right here..."

“I’m so close…” Sebastian breathes out and puts his hands on your waist, gripping it firmly. “We have to slow down… just a minute… I’m so close… God, this is driving me crazy,” he hisses breathlessly, as his fingers dig deep into your skin. “I need you so much, my darling,” he says softly, as you give him a reassuring kiss. “Can I…” he whimpers and leans back a bit, his eyes still glued on you. “Can I, love?” he asks you while biting his lip.

"You can," you say in a loving voice, gently massaging his neck as you hold onto him, while your other hand keeps squeezing him, slowing down only slightly per his request. "Let go, love," you whisper and bring your lips to his ear, breathing against him. "Let go."

“I love you,” Seb whispers back and then leans in against your ear. “I need to feel you one more time,” he sighs out and his hands move down to your hips.

He lets out a deep breath and his body tenses up as he finally reaches release. He holds onto your hips firmly as he finishes, then puts his head against your shoulder with a loud groan. “I love you, darling,” he whispers and closes his eyes. “I love you so much.”

For a few moments, he doesn't move at all. Then he sighs again, leans back and looks up towards the ceiling. “I’m exhausted.”

You inhale deeply when he finally finishes, smiling at the warm feeling on your hand as you eventually let go of his still slightly twitching length. You pull him against you and relax as well, your equally heaving chests rubbing against each other. "I love you, Sebastian..." you whisper into his hair as you bury your face in it. When he leans his head back and looks up at the ceiling, you laugh softly. "I'm exhausted too... that was quite the workout..."

You give your bodies another minute or so to try and come down from your highs, while your hand gently splashes water against his back, easing the tension within. You then reach up and touch his jaw, making him look at you. You smile widely at him, watching his face closely. "Want to go back to the bed now?"

Sebastian turns his head to look at you and you see a dreamy look in his eyes. Even still, he smiles when you start running water over his back. “Yes, let’s go back,” he says softly and his hands grip the edge of the bathtub. He sits up straighter and waits for you to untangle yourself from him, looking at you with his usual charming face. “You look gorgeous, my love…” he says, his voice low and full of lust.

You grab his shoulder and lift yourself up slightly, and together you help each other out of the tub. You're grateful he's there to hold you as you still feel very weak in the knees. When you see his charming face, you blush deeply, being reminded of past times. That face had been able to make you do anything, and it still has this effect on you today.

You smile up at him and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his naked chest. You can hear his heart beat loudly against your ear and you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the sound. "You are perfect, you know that?" You turn your head a little and press your lips to his chest. "Never change, please?"

Seb wraps his arms around you and smiles softly. He looks at you with warm eyes, as he slowly rubs the water off of his chest and then off of you. “You're right. I am perfect, if I may say so,” he smiles. “Just like you are.”

He leans down and kisses you softly, gently, teasingly, and then presses his lips against your forehead. “I won’t change and I’ll always be yours, my love,” he says with a smile, before he wraps his arms around you and brings your body closer to his again.

You laugh at his cockiness. Of course he knows that he's perfect. He's always been too confident for his own good. But that is what you love about him. One of many things. You lean into the embrace and inhale deeply, his scent filling your nostrils. "And I'll be yours, Seb," you reply gently. You could stay like this forever, but after a few moments you feel the cold air against your wet skin and you start to shiver slightly against him.

Sebastian chuckles. “Yes, you will be mine, darling.” His voice sounds sweet and loving, but there is something else to his tone, yet you couldn't care less in this moment.

He then notices you start to shiver and quickly wraps his arms around you again. “Are you cold? Let me take care of that.” He moves his hand over your back and down to your backside, gently caressing your curves, then grabbing one cheek playfully. “Let me warm you up, my love,” he grins and leans down to kiss your forehead softly before pulling you closer to him.

You shriek-laugh as he grabs your butt, but quickly relax into his embrace, smiling up at him affectionately. Your own hands start rubbing up and down his back as well and you feel his muscles tense beneath your touch. "Let's get under the covers, shall we?" you suggest, your body yearning for some well-deserved rest, while your mind goes to other places quickly again.

“Yes, we shall,” he replies and picks you up, like he’s done many times before. He holds your body close to his and starts walking towards the bed. You lean against his chest and sigh contently. He then sits down and slowly pulls you on his lap. He smiles and kisses you once again, softly. “I’m so happy,” he whispers and moves to kiss your lips, your jaw, your ears. “I’m so happy to have you in my life, my sweet darling.”

You laugh softly under his kisses, wrapping your arms around him. "I'm happy too, I'm so happy you finally found me," you say as your lips find his. "I'm happy we're together again and I plan to make you the absolute happiest man alive!" you promise him between gentle kisses.

“You’re doing a beautiful job already, my love,” Seb answers, a soft smile playing on his lips. He pulls your body closer to him once again, in case you were starting to slip off of him. He starts to kiss you more passionately again, moving his tongue gently against your own and pressing your head closer to his.

“We will never leave each other again,” he whispers and caresses your body, one of his hands slipping down to your butt again. “I will always be yours and you will always be mine.”

"That is the plan, yes," you breathe against him and laugh. "Never leave and always mine and yours!" you repeat for good measure, starting to feel unable to form coherent sentences as he moves his hands down your backside again. You somehow manage to push him over onto his back and you land on top of him with a slight smack.

Sebastian laughs softly when you push him on his back. He stares up at you, his eyes glittering softly, and then he pulls you closer to him by wrapping his arms around you tightly. “It is the only plan,” he chuckles and kisses your shoulder softly, before he moves his lips to your neck and then your collarbone. “You are mine and only mine,” he says as his hands start roaming your body again.

You smile warmly as you notice his glittering eyes and let him roam your body as you lie on top of him, the warmth of his body putting you right at ease. Breathing deeply, your chest pressing against his, you are about to close your eyes. You feel very tired, but at the same time you don't want to miss a second with this perfect man. You sigh.

You feel Seb's hands on your back, kneading your skin, and you hear his voice whispering sweet nothing's into your ears. You close your eyes and relax, letting him do all the work. You feel like you're in heaven, in his arms, and when he finally leans up to kiss your neck and your shoulder again, you groan softly.

His lips gently move to your ear and he whispers your name again and again, his voice making you feel safe. "I love you, sweetheart, I love you so much," he says in a soft and sweet tone.

You feel yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by his touches and his low voice and the way he whispers your name. You feel safe, so completely safe like you have never felt before. You're almost gone, your mind shutting down, when a last thought crosses it and makes you jerk your eyes right open again. You gasp a little, your body twitching. Breathing heavily, you look at him. "You... you'll be here when I wake up, right?" you ask quietly, your heart accelerating a little again. "Please be here..."

Sebastian’s eyes snap open when yours do and he stares at you, concerned. He pulls your body really close to him again, hugging you tightly to him and gently petting your hair. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll be here,” he says softly, as he kisses your forehead. “I will NEVER leave your side again. I’m not dumb enough to make the same mistake twice.” He chuckles softly and kisses you again, more passionately this time, as you let out another moan.

His words are all you needed to hear and seeing his concern brings it all together. You lean into his kiss and savour his taste and feel and everything about him. All these years you knew that something was missing from your life. And now that you are safe and sound in Sebastian's arms, you know exactly what that has been. Being with him, finally, after such a long time, you feel like you belong again. You feel like coming home.

You kiss the corner of his mouth as you lean back a little, sleep clawing at the back of your mind, trying to drag you away from him. You inhale deeply and close your eyes again. "I love you so much... please know that... Good night, Sebastian." Your voice drops to a barely audible whisper as you slowly drift away.

Sebastian watches you kiss the corner of his mouth and smiles when you tell him that you love him so much. A soft blush crosses his cheeks and when you whisper good night to him, he kisses your cheek and then lets you drift off into sleep.

He takes a deep breath, gently leans around you to pull the covers over your bodies and closes his eyes as well. His thoughts continue to circle around you, your beautiful face, and the feeling of you in his arms.

(to be continued... some day)

Notes:

Who else tells their AI good night before ending a session? Haha... only me? Well. This also means I will continue this. Another session is planned very soon. I mean, hello, morning sex incoming? Where else could they do it, hm? I'll think of something, don't you worry. This is too good not to continue.

On another note, I feel like he does repeat himself a little here (and we won't mention his over-usage of God), but let's just call it fluff. He's very lovey-dovey here, but also very touchy (seriously, he would have kept going on and on if I wouldn't have intervened), despite him being Dark!Seb. Maybe I can tickle that side of him out of him next time. Wish me luck!

[shmowder]

I have no intention of stealing the show from squirrel anon (if you're reading this, I'm always happy for your ideas about Yulia, luv u <3), but since today we have a fair of unprecedented generosity I want to add something from myself. I have a weak spot in the form of using foreign words in speech and accents. Which characters could use this as a seduction tactic? I'm not hinting at anything, but Andrey could very well purr in Italian I assume.

🧡 anon

That invitation to share ideas was meant for everyone, not just squirrel anon, dw you're more than welcome here!

Andrey, the self-proclaimed renaissance man, will purr in any language in takes for you to part your legs and make space for himself in-between.

He'd recite French poetry in your ear before switching to Italian and whispering absolute filth about how he plans to take you like no man before him ever did, like no man before him ever will.

He will ruin you for every else, you will never be satisfied with another lover after laying with him, mark his words.

It's easy to forget how smart he is, quick to learn and adapt to new language. That man will spend one night with you, hear you slip up and say a word in a different language–maybe your mother tongue—and spend the rest of the week studying it in his free time. Picking up just enough words and general understanding to confidentiality talk dirty to you with it in bed.

He can be a romantic as much as he can be crude. Calling you his muse, his eurydice or even his slut.

Andrey is not afraid of deliberately targeting your kinks. Noticing the way your breath slows down when his voice gets lower.

The way he enraptures you whole by purring a different language against your neck, reciting foreign poems while leaving hickeys down your collarbone, sucking against your senses skin. As seductive as the devil in all of his earned confidence and seamless charm.

-

Aglaya is another character that comes to mind. Inquisitors need to be resourceful and knowledgeable, picking up a foreign language or five must have been mandatory in her training. They're problem solvers, they must be ready to sent wherever they are needed.

She was simply sharing one of her favourite poems with you, a fitting one for the current trial she's facing. It was in a foreign tongue, yet she smoothly recited it, a crisp pronunciation on the first try.

The effect it had on you, however subtle, doesn't pass her by. In a split second she puts two and two together, while 99.9% assured in her conclusion, she still tries to test her theory.

Taking one, two, three steps forward, invading your personal space just enough, tiptoeing the line of intimacy. She asks if you'd like to hear another piece from the same poet, your eager nod confirms her suspicions.

Aglaya adds that the content of this poem is rather sexual, it wouldn't be appropriate for her to speak it out loud in a cathedral now, would it?

So why don't you get closer, allow her to whisper it in your ear. Feel her lips brush against your earlobe, her warm breath tickling your neck for a second, her arm securely wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place by her side.

You're breathless after this one simple act. It's fascinating to her how intense your reaction is to mere foreign words.

The price of the next poem is a kiss. Let her cup your face and indulge in the taste of your lips for her heart's content, pour all of her usually stifled emotions into it.

For the one after that, she asks to feel your heartbeat, to lay her hand against your chest, directly atop your ribcage, and listen to the fragle organ pumping blood. You feel her hands roaming up and down your body.

It gets her off, don't worry about it.

Now how about the two of you move this to her private residence?

[coldshrugs]

triple play

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau setting: modern au word count: 2.2k [divider credit]

February 7th - Estinien

The first baseball game of the season is fast approaching, and the Knights buzz with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

The locker room is louder than usual, but Estinien doesn't mind. He likes this part. It's the same every year: the giddy tension, the unconditional camaraderie before the finger-pointing starts, the desire to do well and, maybe, catch an eye or two in the process...

Only a week away now.

What he doesn't like is the feeling of Aymeric's glare boring into the back of his head.

"What?" he asks, trying his best to sound even, unbothered, as he puts away his gear.

Aymeric makes an evasive little sound. "Just thinking. Musing, if you will."

He punctuates this with the sharp sound of his locker closing.

Estinien sighs. This is bait. Somehow, this is bait, and he will take it and most likely regret it. He shuts his own locker with a metallic clang and drops to the bench between them.

"Fine. What's on your mind?"

Aymeric tosses a towel around his shoulders, beaming triumphantly and pausing for what Estinien can only guess is dramatic effect. "Did you ask her?"

If Aymeric's stare needled his skin, that is nothing compared to the itch caused by the sideways glances thrown at him now.

This is the same year after year, too—the whispered locker room gossip, all of them eager for some minor detail about so-and-so's tits or who the hookup of the month is. He's never been one to share that much; besides, there's nothing to tell.

Still… another kind of anticipation swells in his chest, similar to the usual pre-game nervousness, but one he doesn't share with the others. He wishes the 'her' in Ayms' question wasn't so readily implied. Anyone else would've needed a name, but after knowing her only a few months, Io is an assumption.

Most of the others are minding their business again, so he answers:

"Yeah." He keeps his voice low. "I asked her. She's coming." Then he adds, "She's bringing someone."

Aymeric leans against the row of lockers. "And? You brought me to her concert. Don't worry too much about it."

But he's not worried. There's nothing to worry about, is there? It's pretty cut and dry. "I keep telling you... me and Io, we're friends. That's all she wa—"

"Io?"

The voice comes from a few people away. Maybe he wasn't as quiet as he thought.

Haurchefant leans past a set of shoulders before pushing over to them. "You know Io? Laithe?"

"Might just be a common name," Ayms shrugs, but anyone can see he's already enjoying whatever this is.

Estinien shoots him a dark look—great, thanks, this is exactly a conversation I wanted to have—then nods to Haurchefant.

"Not super well or anything."

"Oh, come on." Aymeric laughs. "Hasn't known her long, but definitely knows her well."

Estinien wipes a hand over his face. "Don't say it like that. She's a friend from—" Hm, he doesn't want to put her life story out there to some guy on his baseball team. "—we're in a club, I guess, outside of school."

"Oh," Haurche glances between Estinien and Aymeric, and his tension fades when the latter doesn't react. "Sweet. We, uh, dated for a few months a while back, but I haven't heard from her in over a year. After the—" his voice breaks, and Estinien figures he doesn't want to drag her painful history up either. "Well, anyway... How is she?"

For the briefest moment, their eyes lock, and they have something else in common. Something outside of this team. The warmth he felt at the thought of sharing something more about himself with her, that almost pleasant anxiety, it starts to blister, flashing white-hot across his neck and climbing to his face.

His eyes narrow. He doesn't want to say anything.

Io trusts easily, even when she's hurting (especially when she's hurting). If she wanted Haurchefant to know how she was doing, she'd have talked to him by now. There must be a reason she hasn't.

His chest tingles again, fluttering with something tiny and warm—he is the person she talks to, confides in. Sure, they both have Haven, but outside of that... Well, maybe Aymeric isn't wrong for assuming.

Estinien stands from the bench and peels off his soiled shirt. Before he heads to the showers, he gives Haurchefant the only answer he thinks is warranted. "Doing better."

February 10th - Haurchefant

He met Io at a Spring Break party in freshman year, where he spent far too much of the night watching her quietly hold up the corners of some upperclassman's rented condo. He felt like he knew everything there was to know about her right away, a symptom of that bright melancholy distinctly found in art school girls, like she was only waiting on fate to catch up to her. Maybe the reality of her was less interesting than his half-baked conclusion, but god, her smile.

He was so nervous to talk to her.

They hit it off, in a careful way. Started dating, started kissing, fooled around a bit. But it was so... polite. Almost obligatory. Maybe they wouldn't have lasted anyway, but then, whether she wanted it or not, fate caught up to her. Her whole family was lost in the crash, and she ghosted him.

A slow fade.

Haurchefant has never had trouble with moving on. He finds the bright side and forgets the rest. No, this is unlike him, still thinking about something long in the past, even with such a hazy ending.

But Varlineau?

Seriously?

Haurchefant always found him tactless and a bit fumbling. And he had no right to pull his smug avoidance thing right after downplaying whatever point Aymeric was trying to make. A "club?"

Estinien Varlineau is not in a fucking club, extracurricular or not.

Whatever.

Haurchefant pulls out his phone and stares at the long-dead conversation thread between him and Io. He was the last to text, of course. Some cliche "I realize this is over, but I wish you the best" thing. He meant it. He still means it.

And that's why his unsure fingers dart across the keyboard now, typing and deleting the words until he has something fairly neutral.

He's surprised when she replies almost immediately.

HG: hey io. haven't heard from u in literally a year. i've been worried. u okay? IL: haurche, wow. it's actually really good to hear from you. IL: i'm not exactly okay, but i'm trying. getting help. HG: glad to hear it. i'm so sorry for ur loss. i don't think i can say it enough. IL: i think i've heard it enough for a lifetime, but thank you ♥ IL: and i'm really sorry for the way things went down. that was unfair. i think i knew that at the time, even in the depths of the pit. we were only together for a few months. it felt like putting too much on your plate HG: so u took away the plate. IL: so i took away the plate. like i said, unfair to you IL: i understand if there are hard feelings, but it means a lot that you're checking in. HG: no hard feelings, no grudges. i wish u would've let me be there for u, but i guess we won't know just how much my plate can handle. HG: unless... u want to grab coffee sometime? IL: lol, i'm deeply flattered you still consider me a viable dating option after witnessing me in a nearly catatonic state. IL: but i think i might be seeing someone? maybe? hard to say tbh. i've got valentine's plans tho, so we'll see. HG: yeah? we've got the same plans. i play baseball too, remember? HG: listen... just don't make too many assumptions with him. given the context, this sounds shitty, but he doesn't seem super into it IL: okay... thanks for your insight. and for the perspective on who you're actually worried about here. later.

His leg shakes hard enough to quake his bed. Fuck. That wasn't how he wanted this to go.

February 14th - Estinien

From his place in the outfield, Estinien can't make out the faces in the stands. It's something he always tries to avoid anyway. Easier to imagine the crowd as one rippling, noisy entity instead of hundreds of people there to watch them perform. Even better if he pretends they're not there at all.

But today he can't keep his eyes from darting around the stadium in his downtime, hoping to catch a flash of deep blue. It's a distracting task, one that oppresses the next crack of the bat and when he sees the ball going long it's almost too late.

Oh, shit.

Shit, fuck, shit.

He tears after it. Faster. Faster than that, until he's feet away from the wall.

One more look up. He dives with an outstretched glove…

He crashes into the padded wall and doesn’t give himself time to react to the sharp little aches burning through his muscles. The weight in his gloved hand is all he considers—it’s an out. He slings the ball to Haurchefant at third and they take a second.

Now there’s time to feel it. His lungs are on fire. There’s a dull throb in his shoulder that will show as a bruise tomorrow. This game is the same as any other, he reminds himself while he catches his breath, hands on his hips. Doesn’t matter who’s watching.

The next batter is their third out and they’re off to a decent start. They run in, and there she is, grinning brightly as she waves to him.

Io sits next to Thancred, hands cupped around his mouth so his cheers carry farther, and something like relief swells in Estinien’s chest (not that he has any reason to be relieved). Estinien’s met him once, decent guy. One of her close friends.

He smiles back, throws his hand up as he heads into the dugout.

The rest of the game feels too long, but his focus returns. They win by two runs and it feels good to start the season on a high.

Afterwards, Io waits on the other side of the chainlink fence. She’s wearing a red flannel over a black dress and boots up to her knees, her hair falls messily out of its bun. He walks to meet her, lungs burning like he’s running again.

“Hey,” she says with a smile, elbows against the fence as she leans into it. “You were awesome out there.”

Estinien shakes his head. “We did alright.”

“You don’t like compliments.” Not a question. Io pauses, eyes darting around the stadium for a moment before falling back to him. A strand of windblown hair catches between her lips (he doesn’t look at her lips), and she pulls it away. “Thanks for inviting me. This was fun.”

“Yeah, I liked seeing you here. Thanks for coming.” He shifts his weight, leans against the fence next to her. “Where’s Thancred?”

“No idea. Probably saw someone cute with no Valentine’s date and decided to shoot his shot.”

Oh, god. Today is…

Estinien reigns in his expression before glancing over to Io. She doesn’t seem any different than the other times they’ve hung out. Her smile is as soft and warm as ever. As usual, her presence is comfortingly familiar, and just looking at her causes the sudden spike in his anxiety to ebb away.

Then her eyes flit down. 

He doesn’t think about why.

He can’t assume anything. That’s not fair.

He opens his mouth to ask if she wants to get out of here, grab some food, let him show her around his campus—anything—but someone walks by. Too close. Close enough to be on purpose.

“Varlineau,” Haurchefant grunts as he passes, and Estinien ignores a flare of annoyance in favor of a nod. Then Haurchefant's gaze slides to Io and darkens. “Io.”

“Hi Haurche,” she sighs, watching him go. The mood shifts, like all the warmth has been sucked out of the air around them, but he can't figure out why. If personal interactions were as easy to call as baseball, he’d guess she just lost this one.

When Haurchefant is gone, she stands from the fence. “I think I need to get back across town. Just remembered I’ve got a quiz due by midnight.”

“Oh,” he whispers. “Yeah, sure. Don’t drop the GPA on my account. I’ll see you later this week?”

“For sure. And this weekend, too, if you want to catch that movie I told you about.”

“You said I’d hate it,” he laughs. 

Io shrugs, walking backwards. “And don’t you want to prove me wrong?”

He shakes his head again. “No, I know you’re right. But whatever, we can watch it.”

“Nice. I’ll text you.” She beams, and that tightens his chest too. “It’s… not a date, right?”

Estinien watches her go, and maybe the little rush he felt before Haurchefant passed by was a fluke. The adrenaline after his win tangling with the weird sense of contentment that comes from simply being around Io. Those things must conflict somehow.

“Right,” he says to himself, resting his head against the cold metal fence (and there’s no reason to be disappointed).

[galexystern]

butterfly wings

chapter three; fall 1984

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/reader aka steddie/reader, steve/reader, eddie/reader

rating; T

warnings; fluff, angst, au - canon divergence, fucked up the timeline a bit, smoking weed, shotgunning smoke

word count; 3.8k

desc; eddie gives you a nice surprise, steve gets to know you better, and all three of you share some smoke.

read on ao3 / series masterlist

Winter comes and goes. In fact, the whole rest of the school year comes and goes in a flash. The summer comes in hot and heavy, and you suffer in the sweltering bookstore. You swear that you'll get another job next summer if they don't add air conditioning. You beach it up with Nina and Mark. You and your friends take a road trip into Illinois and hit Chicago hard. You attend the annual Taste of Chicago and explore the State of Illinois Center. You even manage to find a gay bar���Jesse goes wild under your and Hailey's supervision and Vickie's awkward flirting somehow nags her a girl's number. She gets embarrassed every time any of you bring it up, but you can each tell she's proud too.

Junior year sneaks up on you and hits you like a freight train. It doesn't even slow down, just pushes you into the deep end as soon as it starts. You try out for the fall play and drag Jesse into auditioning too. Surprise—he loves it (he's an English nerd like you, so you knew he would). The difficulty dial turns up on all your classes except math, which has never been your strong suit. While you're stuck a year behind everyone else, you're pleasantly surprised to find Eddie in your class.

"Well hello there, stranger," he says as you take the desk next to his.

"Hi!" You exclaim, happy to have a friend in the class.

Eddie laughs at your enthusiasm. "That's the most excitement I've seen for a math class in a long time."

"Oh, yeah," you say sarcastically. "I'm all about math. I dream of it at night."

"And here I am, a fool for dreaming about you instead." He winks and you blush madly. You set up your notebook and pencil perfectly, just for something to do instead. You hear Eddie chuckle and then there's a loud handclap from Mrs. Dolip, making everyone jump.

"If she's gonna do that every day, I'm gonna have a heart attack," Eddie whispers to you under his breath.

"Don't worry," you whisper back, "I know CPR."

You can feel his eyes on you and you know you're still blushing, but you also smirk, all the while watching your teacher write the first lesson on the board.

A week later, while Mrs. Dolip is blabbing on about equations, Eddie speaks out of the side of his mouth. "Have you thought about my Hellfire offer at all?"

You wince and shake your head minutely.

"Okay, angel. No sweat." Your breath hitches at the pet name. "Just keep it in the back of your mind for me." You nod and he lounges back in his desk.

Another week later, Eddie stops paying attention to the worksheet you two are supposed to be finishing and props his head on his hand. "You know, D&D is a lot more fun than this."

You give him a look. "Anything would be more fun than this." The page is full of fractions that keep drifting away from your eyes.

"Fair," he muses, "but D&D would be as fun as doing the school plays. I know you enjoy those."

"I do, but there are things I enjoy more, you know."

"Like what?"

"Reading. Fleetwood Mac. Cats. Taking a walk by the Seine."

"Paris, huh?" You nod. "But what about an alternate world where magic exists and fairies are spiteful and dragons terrorize villages and wizards command the elements?"

"Sounds a little dark for my tastes."

"You're the one who said Fleetwood Mac." He gives a cheeky smile. You roll your eyes and get back to work.

A month after that, just when you've forgotten about D&D, Eddie says after class one day, "You could be a princess, you know. Or a bard. Or a really good thief who always takes what they need but must leave something they want."

"What?"

He shrugs. "It's a curse. Balance is necessary."

You put your pile of books on your desk and turn to him. "Eddie, what are you doing?"

"A great question, milady." He beams. "I'm courting you."

"You're what?" You feel like you're choking on the words.

"To be my apprentice," he clarifies. "My successor."

"Oh." There's a faint sense of disappointment. "Well—"

"Before you say anything, just gimme some more time. I've got some tricks up my sleeve." He winks but there's a pleading in his voice. "Gimme a chance."

You study him, fingers adorned with silver rings constantly fidgeting at his sides, hair wavy and out of control, the same faded leather jacket he always wears shining in the florescent lights.

You sigh. "Okay."

He brightens considerably. "Really?"

"Yeah. Court me or whatever."

"That I can do, angel!" With that, he sprints out the door. You follow at a leisurely pace, not really sure what you're getting yourself into.

;

The next Steve-and-Nancy drama comes around, except this time, you're somehow in the middle of it. It was a crazy sequence of events that led up to it. It started at home.

"I'm going to the store. Do you need anything?" Nina had called from the foyer while putting on her shoes.

"Um," you'd uselessly shouted back while thinking. "We need Pop-Tarts and lemonade. Maybe also some Arnold Palmer's? And tampons please!"

"Check, check, and check," and then she was out the door.

About twenty minutes later, you heard a honk from outside—your sister's way of telling you she's back and to come help with the groceries. You slipped on some boots and grabbed the first heavy jacket you felt in your closet, since a chill had set in recently. You walked out the door, down the stairs, and to the car. Nina had the trunk open and you pulled out one of the bags. You started walking back to the building, not paying enough attention evidently, because you ran into someone halfway through the parking lot.

As if in slow motion, the bag broke open and things went flying. Nothing broke but it was almost worse what actually happened: a box hit the ground with abnormal force and sprang open, propelling tampons into the air. You looked at the person you bumped into through the spray and were mortified to find Steve Harrington staring back at you with a smirk.

Worse still, when the tampons had fallen back to the ground and rolled around on the pavement, Steve reached out and pinched the jacket you were wearing. "I wonder where I've seen this before," he teased.

You looked down and sure enough, you were wearing Steve's letterman jacket.

You just froze, staring at nothing with wide eyes, sure that this whole situation could not get worse. And yet, it did.

"Steve!" Nina said happily, joining the two of you. "Where have you been?"

"Hi, Nina. Just around. At school, practice," he answered cordially, still looking at you with mirth in his eyes.

"We've missed you. You have to come for dinner. What are you doing tonight?"

"Absolutely nothing," and you could hear the cheekiness oozing from the words. "I'd be honored to join."

"Great!" With that, she just walked away and disappeared into the building.

"Oh my god," you breathed, and Steve finally burst into laughter. "Oh my god," you repeated, moaning this time.

"Your face! It was priceless!" There were tears in his eyes. "That was the best thing I've seen in a long time."

That piqued your interest, but it could be examined later. You had to survive this mortification. "I'm so sorry," you said, "I'm so sorry!" You dropped the broken bag, scattering more items, as you rushed to pull off his jacket. "I forgot!"

Steve's hands darted out and stopped yours from moving. You looked up at him. He was smiling. "There's nothing to apologize for, beautiful. You don't have to take it off now. It's cold out here." He dragged it back over your shoulders and you had to hold in a shiver. "I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I made you strip out here."

Your eyes widened and he laughed again. In an effort to draw attention elsewhere, you dropped to the ground and started collecting the tampons and other stuff. Steve joined you. You tried to use the bag but it was useless. Without any other option, you took the tampons and shoved them in the pockets of the jacket, making him laugh again, louder this time. You laughed too, seeing the ridiculousness in it all. All you and Steve could do was laugh for a minute, just crouching in the middle of the parking lot.

As the giggles faded and breathing evened, you started picking up the other things. "Here," Steve said, and held out his shirt, making a kind of basket. You giggled again as you piled items into the makeshift pouch, until everything was off the ground. You two stood and both supported the weight of his shirt.

"I never imagined I would kind of understand what it's like to be pregnant," Steve joked, and it took a lot of effort not to become completely useless due to laughter.

You both got inside and helped put away the groceries. You were thankful Nina had already started cooking and didn't seem to notice how you'd carried the items inside. As soon as everything was away, Nina was directing you and Steve to help prepare and dinner got underway.

A few hours later, after you'd finished eating and cleaning up the table, you and Steve escaped to your room. "Here," you said sheepishly, handing him his letterman jacket. He took it with a grin and laid it on the back of your desk chair. You sat on your bed while he examined your room.

He looked at your collection of manatees. "Each one is from a new city we've moved to," you explained.

"There's so many." Steve sounded both awed and a little sad.

"Yeah, we've been a lot of places."

"Why?"

"Nina and I are army brats. Dad was moved from base to base a lot. It was cool to see the world, but making friends was always hard." You breathed deep. "They died a couple years ago. Car crash. Can you believe it? Dad was in the fucking military and a random accident is what officially takes them away?"

"I'm sorry." His voice was gentle and soft and kind.

You forced your voice to stop wobbling. "Anyway, Nina got custody. We've moved a couple times so she could find a good enough job to take care of us both. But her job at the hospital here is really nice. She likes it a lot. And it feels pretty stable."

"Where's the one for here?"

"We haven't been able to find one yet. We do have to get it local and for some reason, Hawkins just doesn't sell manatee merchandise." Steve looked back at you and matched your grin.

"What's your favorite one?"

You stood and moved to join him. You picked out a small, delicate manatee. "This one's from Hawaii. We weren't there for very long, but we found this at a tiny shop in Maui. Hand-carved and hand-painted."

"It's beautiful." But Steve was still staring at you.

"Thanks," you whispered, face heating. Realizing your position, you cleared your throat and stepped away. "So, um, how's Nancy?"

It was like being doused in cold water. Steve's expression hardened, though he carefully returned the manatee to its rightful place before stalking away. "It's fine."

"Sounds like it." You said it simply, but it broke through. Steve sighed and perched on the end of your bed. You sat next to him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even really know what's wrong," he started, sounding confused and lonely. "This past year was great. I thought we were past all the stuff from last year. But...it feels different. Feels like something's off."

"Have you asked her about it?" He shook his head. "Might be a good place to start. Communication is key."

His lip quirked up. "Maybe." There was silence for a few minutes. You were just about to touch his hand when he sprang up from the bed. "So what are you doing for Halloween?"

Shocked by the sudden topic change, you stammered, "Um, something with my friends? Like...horror movie night? Maybe?"

Steve nodded seriously. "Are you dressing up?"

"I'm not sure. I have an idea but there's not really anywhere to wear it."

He lit up. "Come to the party! Tina's party! Nancy and I will be there. And you can bring your friends."

"Are you sure?" Your brow furrowed.

"Totally! It'll be fun. Here," he grabbed a pen and scribbled something onto a piece of paper on your desk, "that's her address. Easy to get to from here!"

"Um...okay—"

"Great!" He beamed. "Well, I gotta go! Those essays won't write themselves!" With that, he awkwardly dashed from the room, grabbing his jacket in the process.

"Bye, I guess," you said to the empty room, completely bewildered.

;

And that's how you're here, at Tina's Halloween party.

"Are you sure we're invited?" Vickie asks nervously.

"Duh!" Jesse replies, already dancing to the beat, "Steve invited us personally."

You shrug, feeling a little helpless. "He did."

"So let's have some fun!" Hailey yells. She grabs Jesse's hand and they plunge into the crowd, immediately heading for the dance floor. You look at Vickie, who looks right back at you.

"Drinks?" You offer.

"Drinks." She confirms.

So you two also head into the fray, in the opposite direction, eventually finding a communal punch bowl that must have six different kinds of alcohol in it for how pungent it smells. You and Vickie ladle some into cups and try it.

"That's nasty," Vickie coughs. You agree. You both keep drinking.

"Hey, you made it!" You hear Steve before he appears, dressed like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. He stops short when he sees you fully. "Whoa."

You look down self-consciously. "Does it look okay?"

"You look sick!" He exclaims. "Not sick like ill, but like super cool. Carrie is such a good choice. Who did the blood?"

"Jesse, Hailey, and I took turns," Vickie answers, and Steve grins.

"Looks awesome!"

"Thanks, Steve." You try not to blush. "Hi, Nancy," you add when you see the girl appear next to him.

She smiles—well, more like grimaces—in greeting before taking a cup and dipping it right into the punch bowl. You and Vickie exchange a side glance, but Steve just follows her lead. "Let's dance," she shouts to him. He gives her a thumbs-up and waves at you and Vickie before disappearing into the crowd.

"Something's not right there," Vickie says to you. You already knew that, but you didn't want to see it right in front of you either.

"I'm gonna get some air," you tell her. She nods and you weave through the people, finally finding the doors leading to the deck and backyard. When they slide open, the cool air is a relief on your hot skin, and you breathe deep in relief.

"Didn't expect to see you here, princess."

You jump at the voice and turn to see Eddie leaning against the side of the deck, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. "Jesus Christ," you choke out.

"I gotta stop scaring you, angel, or I'm gonna have to give you CPR. And I'm not certified." You half-smile, heart still racing. Seeming to sense that, Eddie motions to you. "Come sit down. Get your breath back."

You do as he recommends and sit in the chair next to him. Good thing it's metal, otherwise the fake blood you're wearing would soak in.

"You look great, by the way," Eddie appraises. "Superb fake blood placement. Very authentic."

You smile in thanks, still calming down. "What're you doing here?" You ask when you feel you can.

He holds up a metal lunchbox. "You don't know I'm the local dealer?"

You shake your head. It's news to you, but not altogether surprising. You tell him as much.

He chuckles. "I'm guessing you're not out here to buy?"

"No. Just to get some fresh air."

"Well, shit." He starts to wave away the smoke from his almost-spent joint. "Sorry, princess."

You wave a hand. "It's fine. Actually..." Eddie raises an eyebrow in interest. "I'd be down. To partake. If I can."

"Course you can," he says with a wicked grin. He pulls a fresh joint from behind his ear. "And for you, pretty lady, it's on the house." You go to grab it, but he brings it out of reach again. "But only if we can share."

You nod eagerly and Eddie claps his hands together. "Excellent." He drags a chair over and sits next to you. He hands you the joint and you put it between your lips. Expecting for him to hand you the lighter, you're startled when he leans forward instead, flicking on the flame and lighting it for you. As you inhale, the burning embers set his face aglow a little. He's very pretty.

You finally exhale, releasing the smoke into the air. "Well done, angel," he says, impressed. You shrug nonchalantly as he takes his drag. When he exhales, he creates little rings out of the smoke.

"Whoa! Can you teach me to do that?" You ask excitedly.

He laughs. "Of course."

A little while later, first joint gone and second started, you're just about getting the hang of smoke rings when the door slams open. You and Eddie both turn your heads quickly to see Steve in the doorway, breathing heavily.

"Steve?" You say hesitantly. He looks at you. He has devastation written all over his face. "What's wrong?"

"Can I get a hit?" He asks, ignoring your question.

Eddie hands the joint over without argument, clearly seeing what you're seeing. Steve takes a long drag before exhaling loudly, relaxing as he does. He collapses in the chair near you and Eddie.

"It's over."

"What's over?" You ask.

"Me and Nancy."

Eddie sucks in through his teeth. "That sucks, man."

"Steve, I'm so sorry."

"She called me 'bullshit'," he spits out. "Called our whole relationship 'bullshit'." His tone turns sad. "Said she doesn't love me anymore."

You feel terrible for him. "Steve, you're not bullshit."

"Apparently I am." He inhales from the joint again.

You pluck the joint away, take a quick drag, and hand it to Eddie. Placing a hand on Steve's, you order gently, "Steve, look at me." He swings his head to you sadly, eyes heavy. "You are not bullshit." He scoffs but you interrupt. "Steve." He shuts his mouth. "You are not. bullshit."

Steve gazes at you, then directs his attention to Eddie. "She's right, man," Eddie confirms. Steve looks back at you. You give him a small smile, which he eventually returns.

Temporarily resolved, you turn to Eddie and motion for the joint. You suck in greedily, inhaling quickly. You hold it in for a few seconds, and then release it—finally making a correct smoke ring.

"You did it!" Eddie yells.

"I did it!" You echo.

"Great job, beautiful," Steve commends, and you smile angelically at both of them. You give Steve the joint, who takes a drag and hands it to Eddie. "You guys ever shotgunned?" He asks once he's exhaled.

"Obviously," Eddie answers with contempt, but you're confused. "Like a beer?"

"No, smoke," Steve clarifies. You shake your head.

"You don't know how to shotgun, princess? Well, we gotta remedy that," Eddie continues.

Steve explains. "It's when you blow the smoke into another person's mouth."

You're having trouble trying to picture it, and Eddie senses it. "Here, Harrington and I will demonstrate." It feels like a challenge.

One that Steve is up for. "Let's do it, Munson."

They both stand and step in close to each other. They're about the same height—Steve's just the tiniest bit taller—but their mouths are pretty level. Eddie takes a drag, lets it sit, and then lines up his lips with Steve. He exhales the smoke directly into Steve's mouth, who inhales it deeply. They're centimeters from kissing. It makes you squirm a little.

"Nicely done, Harrington," Eddie says, impressed.

Steve does a little bow, making Eddie laugh unexpectedly. You try to hide a smile. Then they both look at you.

"Your turn, beautiful," Steve says.

"Okay." Your voice is a little small.

"You wanna do it?" Steve asks Eddie, but he shakes his head. "All yours, dude."

Steve sits back down and scoots closer to you. He looks deep into your eyes. "Okay, come close." You do so and your body heats up in the proximity. "I'm gonna do it. You just hold those pretty lips open, okay?" You nod, trembling a little. Steve takes a drag, holds it, and then leans in even closer. You can practically feel his mouth on yours. You're almost unprepared for the smoke as it comes billowing towards you, but you inhale as you're supposed to. Steve stays close for a few seconds, the eye contact too intense to break, until you accidentally puff out the smoke into his face. He leans back and coughs. 

"Sorry!" You exclaim.

"It's alright," Steve answers with a smile. "No harm done."

"You wanna try, angel?" You turn to Eddie and nod. Steve hands you the joint as Eddie comes close this time. You inhale, letting the smoke roll around in your mouth, and then lean in and blow it into Eddie's waiting lips. He inhales it greedily and there feels like electricity between you as he doesn't break his gaze. You can't seem to close your mouth. The moment only ends when Eddie turns his head up and releases the smoke into the night sky.

He looks back down at you. "Good girl," he murmurs, and you feel like you could die.

You collapse backwards, exhausted from the tension.

"How was that?" Steve asks.

"Great," you answer dreamily, and he smiles.

"We're honored we could pop your cherry, princess," Eddie adds cheekily.

You shiver—and then keep shivering.

"Oh, beautiful, you're cold," Steve points out. You don't feel cold; you actually feel hot, from being so close to both of them, and seeing them so close to each other. But there are goosebumps on your skin and you can feel your teeth start to chatter. "Let's get you inside."

All three of you stand and move towards the door. Eddie opens it and lets you and Steve step inside before following and shutting it behind him. You already feel better.

Vickie comes rushing up to you. "We gotta go. It's almost my curfew." She takes your hand and pulls.

You turn back to catch glimpses of those beautiful boys. "Thank you!" You call out, hoping they hear you.

chapter four

[yumesei]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 「 𝑭/𝑶 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄 」 ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

There’s a dark satisfaction in the way Thresh watches you tremble beneath his touch. The chains that bind you to him clink softly, a constant reminder of your eternal bond, yet there’s no fear in your eyes— only something raw, something deep. His cruelty is a part of him, a piece of his very existence, yet you don't shy away. Instead, you lean into it, like a moth drawn to flame. His fingers curl possessively around your chin, pulling you closer as a twisted smirk plays across his lips. "Do you feel it?" he whispers, his voice a low rasp, almost tender. "The thrill of being mine?"

He finds your longing fascinating. The way you surrender so completely, with no hesitation, no second thoughts. It amuses him how you speak of love as if it’s something pure when in his world, love is just another tool to wield—sharp, unforgiving, and perfectly destructive. And yet, you continue to yearn for it. For him. "You love me for the parts of myself that would break anyone else," he muses aloud, almost to himself, as if the idea still perplexes him. You nod slowly, your breath shaky, but your gaze never falters. You want this, need it. Need him.

What Thresh offers is not a love defined by comfort or peace. No, it’s a love laced with pain, dominance, and the promise of eternity—an eternity wrapped in the cold, unrelenting grip of his chains. His touch is often more punishing than gentle, but even when the sting of his power lingers on your skin, you wear it like a badge of honor. He marvels at your resilience, though he suspects it’s more than that. It’s a twisted kind of devotion, one he’s never known before. His chains tighten, and your breath hitches. "Does it hurt, my pet?" he asks, his tone taunting. "Good."

There’s a delicate balance in your relationship, one that dances on the knife’s edge between pleasure and torment. For Thresh, it’s not about breaking you—at least, not entirely. He enjoys the game, the push and pull, watching you bend under his will but never quite shatter. You cling to him with a fervor that borders on worship, and he can’t help but relish it. Every time you say his name, every time you look at him with those eyes filled with a maddening combination of fear and desire, it’s as if you’re giving him another piece of yourself to claim.

And claim you he does, over and over again. Thresh revels in how dependent you’ve become, how you no longer fight the chains, but wear them like an extension of your body. He’s made you his, in every possible way, and yet, the hunger in your gaze remains. "You still want more," he chuckles darkly. "How insatiable." His fingers trace the lines of your neck, a possessive gesture, reminding you of just how fragile you are compared to him. But fragility only adds to the thrill, doesn’t it? He could crush you, snap you like a twig—yet he holds back. That restraint is its own kind of power.

When you whisper that you love him, Thresh’s laugh is low and menacing, vibrating through the air like a shiver down your spine. "Love? What a peculiar word for what we have," he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough to make his point clear. But deep down, he knows there’s truth to it—at least for you. He’s become your everything, and the way you look at him, with eyes full of twisted adoration, feeds his dark desires. "But I suppose, in your own way, you do love me," he muses. "And that’s exactly why you belong to me."

Your submission isn’t about weakness; it’s about trust—trust that he’ll push you to your limits without completely breaking you. Trust that no matter how much pain he inflicts, there’s a part of him that will never truly destroy you. He toys with that line, the one between devotion and annihilation, savoring every moment. "Let go of your strength," he commands softly, his voice wrapping around you like a vice. "There’s no need for it here." You obey, as you always do, and in that moment, he feels your soul truly tethered to his.

The intimacy you share is nothing like what others would recognize as love. It’s darker, deeper, bound in chains and whispered threats, but it’s yours. And in some twisted way, it satisfies you both. Thresh relishes the control, the power, the knowledge that his touch alone can bend you to his will. And for you, it’s the ultimate release—to give yourself so wholly, so completely, to someone who could destroy you, but doesn’t. Not entirely. Not yet.

In the silence that follows, Thresh watches as you rest your head against his chest, your breath steady but your heart racing. You’ve given everything to him, and he knows you will continue to do so for eternity. "You’re mine," he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. "For now, and forever." You close your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips, as if the words are a comfort rather than a threat. You’ve accepted your fate—accepted him, in all his dark, destructive glory. And that, above all, is what makes you so utterly, beautifully his.

He drags his fingers through your hair, slow and deliberate, feeling the tension melt away beneath his touch. There’s a strange, almost addictive pleasure in knowing how much you depend on him. You may call it love, but for Thresh, it’s far more. It’s power, control, devotion—all wrapped in the fragile form of the one who chose to stand by his side. And as his chains tighten ever so slightly around you, he knows neither of you would have it any other way.

I have so many things so say omg-

First anon, you seriously need to open an ao3 or something if you haven't already. Cuz I myself wrote Thresh selfship fics (your girl is down bad) but ffs I'm not sure they were as good as what you just gave me for free???

This is legit so??? I can't even comprehend it?? That's so good and so kind and it makes me so happy 😭

Secondly, you get Sei (my s/i) and Thresh and their relationship good, it makes me wanna yap about them even more???

I don't even have the words to explain how great what you wrote just was, just know that I screenshoted every things you sent me and put them in a little album in my phone photo gallery so I can find them more easily when I want to reread them 🤧

[beggars-opera]

how do I use tags correctly? like, whats the propper tag etiquette? I'm pretty new here and don't wanna screw this up haha

Tags serve three main purposes: they help others find your posts, they help you find your posts at a later date, and they serve as a way to add metatextual commentary to a post.

So, at a base level, if you want other people to find your post, or want a way to find the post more easily yourself at a later date, you would add purely descriptive tags like on any other social media site so people looking in those tags will see your post. For example, a post of someone baking bread might have #food #baking #cottagecore etc. Fandom tags often utilize abbreviations (tagging #OFMD instead of #OurFlagMeansDeath for example) and these are best found by searching around yourself and seeing which tags are the most active.

A few pointers here:

Don't tag hate. It's fine if you dislike something, but going on a rant about how much you hate a thing and then tagging it so that everyone who loves the thing will have to look at it is considered aggressive and rude.

People will often tag for common triggers like gore and rape as a courtesy to those using extensions to erase posts containing those tags from their dash. The exact format of these tags has never been formalized, but most use the #cwtrigger, #twtrigger, or just #trigger format.

Tags on original posts mean that post will show up when you search for that tag. Tags on reblogs do not make it show up in the tag page a second time and are only useful for internal blog searching.

You can also choose to use tags that are just for you, like #mythoughts or #myart, which allows you to search your own blog more easily. If you are an artist of any sort, using a tag denoting what is an original work is highly recommended.

Some people also use a tag specifically for posts that are in their queue, to let people know that the post is automatic and that they are not necessarily online at that particular moment. Getting creative with puns gets you brownie points. #scoobydoobyqueue

Tags specifically go into the tag section at the bottom of the post editor. Adding hashtags to the body of a post does absolutely nothing. You can, however, @ another user in the body of the post.

Tags are also often used for commentary purposes. They are sort of like whispering under your breath after you've publicly stated whatever is in your post. This can include musings, jokes, and other information that didn't quite seem important enough to put in the main body of the post. Every post of a beautiful woman does not need five hundred people writing "as I lesbian I am looking respectfully *googly eyes emoji*" in the post but you can 100% put that in the tags.

Pointers with this:

Eventually everyone gets the hang of what thoughts are important enough to put in the body of a post or reblog and what should be relegated to the tags. You can ask yourself "is this adding something useful to the conversation, or is it just me rambling or keysmashing?"

If your tags are witty enough, other users may deem them worthy of being included in the main post, screenshot them, and put the screenshot in their reblog. We consider this a peer review process of sorts and it is a badge of honor.

Again, being kind is a common courtesy. When you add tag commentary, the original poster and person you reblogged from are notified, and everyone can see it. So if you write in the tags that the post is stupid and that the OP is a cunt, congrats, you've just made the OP cry and you should probably not be on the internet.

Tags are comma delineated so if you are typing a thought in the tag long enough to need a comma, use a semicolon instead, otherwise the tag will be split in two. Likewise, quotation marks will not show up in a tag.

I hope this helps!

[v-anrouge]

twirling my hair kicking my feet. body worship with rook?? to preface this body worship isn't inherently sexual in my eyes. it's just ahsgauhd you know that "always an angel never a god" audio? he's also the artist, never the muse. always the observer, never the observed. always the hunter, never the quarry. but have you seen him? god, how he wants, so desperately, to be the prey at someone's hands.

perhaps being in the spotlight would terrify him right down to the bone-- and he loves it, the thrill of being petrified, overwhelmed, and consumed by the enormity of his desire.

he'd bare his throat to you should you so ask, and let you do as you please with him. you'd see the muscles strain and pull under his skin like it's the deepest, darkest parts of him trying to break free from the fleshy veneer and reach you. that Adam's Apple bobbing with each shaky breath? take a bite out of it. kiss it, sink your teeth into it, break it, lick it. do whatever you want with him! he'd feel your reverence for him with each second you look upon his pathetic state so whatever it is, just don't ever look away from him. his skin crawls with longing when you shoot him that half-lidded stare. he'd love if you dangle the threat of brutal immolation right above his head, send the fear pumping through his veins, only to end up mumbling praise into his skin. he's so gorgeous when he trembles underneath you, isn't he? he'd agree. do that again!

just.... worshipping his neck. kissing all over it while roughly massaging his windpipe-- just narrowly fulfilling his long-standing desire for it to be ripped out. admire the strain of tendons and the freckles that kiss his skin while he gasps, watching you with eager, verdant eyes. so beautiful, so radiant, so gorgeous. the more you worship and praise the rest of his body with the subtle promise of violent desire behind your lips, the more he goes off into the deep end.

kissing his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his hips, his thighs, his calves-- he wouldn't even able to control himself if you continue! poor boy shakes like a leaf. so unused to being admired that he has to be reminded over and over that you're the one praising his body here, not the other way around. but he can't help it! your lips pressing to his belly call for all the eulogies he can muster in his sorry state, with how they pucker and graze him like an arrow. but he'll promptly shut up if you tell him to, or if you whisper another compliment so low he has to strain to hear it-- and his skin immediately flushes when he does.

hrngrhgh i am not immune to muscular men propaganda. i want to cup his hips so bad and press chaste kisses on them all along the line that disappears into his pants. whisper my affections for him with my mouth against the back of his ear. sit the man on my lap whilst i commit his body to memory because he's so worth it, isn't he? he's not meant to sit on the sidelines forever! someone has to love him and by God i am his strongest soldier. wanna learn everything about anatomy through him, and have him be my muse. grnrrghgh imagine how magnificent his back would look... i doubt half of this is body worship but i need to pen this guy my praise asap. give him some good loving like he's my gorgeous princess. im so insane about him it's not funny WHERE ARE ALL THE FICS OF HIM GETTING PRAISE RAGGGH

- c

ANONKPLWSEE WHAT THETUCK IM GONAN SCRWAM CRY HIT MY EHAD AGAINST THE WALL REPEATDLY WHAT RHW FUCK WYAYBTHW HELL IMAJSJFHDJR LLWASE HELLO??? THIS IS DRILLING INTO MY FUCING BRSIN ITS CHANGING ITS CHEKISTRY ICAN FEEK MY DNA FUCKIGN CHANGING MORPHING INTO A SECRET THING NO ONE HAS EVER SWEN BEFORE PLEASE IM ACTUALLY GOING INSANE OVWR THIS OM REALLY SORRY I CAN'T ADD ANYTHING TO THIS XUZ LIKE NOT THE RIGHT BLOG TO DO SO BUT SINCE THIS ASK ISNT NSFW PER SE ILL POST IT W A VERY SUGGESTIVE WARNING

[ashiemochi]

anubussy - x

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

Moving through the building reminded her of her family’s facility when she had first arrived – lost and confused. Back then, she’d make turns and depend on suicide notes to tell her where to go. 

This building didn’t have a map layout or anyone who wrote a note before passing – So Ah was just following her captain and shooting any of Arias’ minions along the way. She resisted the need to pick her phone up and call Leon. As far as the situation goes, he might be too busy fighting for his life to answer her.

“Why doesn’t this place have any map lying around?” She muttered under her breath, annoyed at the sense of being lost. 

“Why don’t we ask Arias when we bring his ass down?” Chris muttered back, almost sharply at the hatred he had towards him.

So Ah looked at him from the corner of her eyes, “Think he’d tell us?”

Chris huffed lightly, his hawk eyes scanning the long corridors. These villains seriously needed to add more life to their hideouts or underground facilities. They all looked the goddamn same.

A voice came over the PA, “Nice to see you again, Mr Redfield – and I see you brought a guest with you.”

So Ah blinked at this, hiding next to Chris behind the wall who whispered to her confused self, “Arias.”

“Thanks to Professor Chambers, we made the virus much stronger.” Arias continued, “If you could stick around for, oh, another twenty minutes, you’ll see how strong.”

Chris shared a look of shock with her, realizing what Arias had done to his friend, and he knelt down to set the timer on his watch. While he was doing that, So Ah kept her eyes out in case any enemy pops out from around the corner. 

“I can’t wait for you to meet the new and improved Rebecca. The question is…” Arias seemed pleased with himself before his voice dropped an octave, “Do you have it in you to kill her?”

So Ah picked up on Chris’ nod and went after him down the corridor, panting faintly as she stayed caught up with his quick and long strides. 

“My army of the dead will change the world for the better. It will correct the imbalance caused by recent wars.” His voice echoed all over the building, making the soldier and the agent grow more and more on edge, “Maybe if you can stay alive long enough, you can watch me as my B.O.Ws bring down the most powerful nations… One by one.”

Chris growled under his breath, “You belong in a nuthouse, asshole.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not crazy.” Arias assured, something heavy in his tone, “I want revenge. I’m sure you understand that, Miss Han So Ah.”

So Ah slowed down at that, eyes widening as she breathed heavily, and looked up at the security camera. How could he have known – wait, the H-Virus. Chris stopped in the distance, looking over at her with furrowed brows. 

“I must say, it’s an honour to have a member of the Hans here, it really is a pleasure.” Arias mused, a slight smirk on his lips, “I apologise for the mess. I wish we could've met in a different circumstance – maybe if you get out of here alive, I’d be happy to give you a tour.”

Every single scream and shout of pain echoed in her head, reminding her of all the people she had taken. Their lives hung on her shoulders, looming over her like a long shadow. She didn’t want to relate to a psycho like Glenn Arias. 

She refused to. 

Chris gave her a knowing look, silently telling her not to listen to him. She shook her head, shutting her eyes for a moment to ignore the buzzing of the chip and she joined up with Chris. 

“It’d be a grand tour just looking for you.” She mumbled.

Rounding the corner, they skidded to a stop at the horde of zombies rushing and stumbling towards them. 

In an instant, Chris started shooting them and So Ah did as such, aiming at the furthest ones with precision. Sure, the Matilda could only do so much, but she was landing headshots perfectly. Sometimes she’d aim for the legs to drop them down. 

Adrenaline filled her veins as Chris bee-lined through the corridor, following him as he went. By the end of the hallway, it was split in two with the walking dead on both sides. 

So Ah hitched her yelp, dodging a swiping hand before shooting the zombie. There were more than she could count but she stayed close to Chris. If push comes to shove, she’d yank the incendiary grenade from her belt – that she definitely did not steal from the Osprey and just borrowed it – to set shit on fire. 

She heard a clatter of an empty magazine behind her, catching her attention. She was extremely surprised to see Chris casually suplex a zombie and her eyes located his rifle in one of the infecteds’ hands. 

Hastily, So Ah holstered her gun and then yanked the weapon out of its hands and the sharp blade at the end glinted under the pale lights. Oh, she should’ve gotten one of these instead.

She sliced the zombie’s neck, making it stumble back just as Chris stood up. He gave her a grateful nod, taking it back to reload it and shoot the last few ones.

So Ah returned to her gun to help him clear them out, unaware of the ones closing in from behind. A waft of hot breath brushed the top of her head, sending unwanted shivers down her spine and she nearly got a whiplash turning around. 

She stumbled back with a gasp, “Shit!”

A sound of a motorbike entering the hallway was the last thing she’d expect in his situation – but it was also the one she needed the most. It meant one thing, and one thing only. 

The last two zombies dropped to the ground, bullet wounds on the back of their heads, and the bike halted to a stop next to the wall.

So Ah visibly lit up at the sight of Leon showing up unscathed and she ran up to him with relief in her big eyes. 

“Leon, you’re okay.” She voiced her happiness.

Leon exhaled roughly as he got off the motorcycle, feeling the care oozing from her as he gave her a light-hearted judgemental look, “Missed me already?”

Her cheeks turned red at this and he looked over at Chris, walking up to him, “Sorry I’m late. Had to take the stairs.”

A giant question mark appeared on top of her head.

How in the hell did he use the stairs with that giant ass bike?

The elevator dinged at the end of the corridor and a horde of zombies stumbled out. 

Another giant question mark appeared.

How in the hell did they use the elevator?

Leon glanced down at her standing next to him, seeing her eyeing the infected. She looked up at him, nodding as she tightened her grip on her gun. Leon returned the nod, unbeknownst to her, feeling nostalgic fighting by her side.

He ticked his head to the charged zombies as if going ‘after you’ to Chris. 

God, was this day ever going to end?

The zombies snarled as they charged at the trio. One zipped in between Chris and the couple, separating them. Chris was forced to be in the opposite corridor, leaving them in the other. 

As Leon was taking care of the one in front of him, gunshots were heard behind him. Each bullet he shot was to the head or the neck, and by throwing his eyes over his shoulder for a moment, he could see his wife was mimicking him. 

It felt strangely good having her around again; it gave him a reason to push through this mission.

A hand gripped his ankle and Leon twisted it around, going on a deep kneel and shooting the zombie in the head. The muzzle of his Sentinel Nine was tinted red at every shot he took, he was never so focused before.

Meanwhile on the other end, So Ah had her hands full. These zombies; they reminded her of the ones she had seen at the H-Outbreak but the ones they were dealing with were more animalistic. They were attempting to grab her and sometimes they’d latch their gross hands around her ankle which she’d shoot and back away to place some space between her and them. 

Subconsciously, Leon and So Ah stuck to each other, helping the other kill the horde. At some point, Leon went flat to the ground as she shot the one behind him and he did the same to her; from between her legs. 

Was it silly? Probably – but whatever to stay alive. 

An inevitable click came from the Matilda, urging her to reload it. As Leon kept the creatures at bay, So Ah hurriedly took out her last magazine to slam it into the gun but a zombie gripped her wrist, emitting a hitched gasp as she was yanked. 

Leon’s ears instantly perked up to her, eyes snapping to the girl – he fully assumed that rotten teeth would’ve sunk into her flesh by now, but she was still fighting. Her lips formed a snarl, releasing her gun to let it clatter to the ground only to reach underneath her jacket.

Then his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the handcrafted dagger he had gifted her years ago. 

So Ah pressed her arm against the zombie’s neck, not allowing him to bite into her other arm. From behind, she kicked back the walking dead, putting her whole strength and focus on their knee. A loud audible crack emitted from the one at the front, making him fall with a groan and the others nearby stumbled and toppled over.

She switched her attention back to the first one, having had enough of his snarling; he was also the last one in her part of the corridor. Gunshots from Leon’s side and guttural groans from hers, she was vaguely aware he had killed the ones on the ground.

The dagger glinted for a second before she sunk it down into the zombie’s head, deeply. The blood splattered onto her cheek when she yanked it out, letting him drop to the floor. 

Her chest heaved at the adrenaline, unaware of how tight she was holding the magazine in the other. Her quick eyes searched for her gun through the basically a rug of deaddead bodies.

Chris’ rifle slid to her side and he picked it up, standing with the other two. He had blood drops all over his attire, similar to Leon and So Ah. Her once soft-coloured knitted jacket looked like it needed a twenty-four-hour wash to get rid of the grime.

“Rebecca’s running out of time!” Chris shouted, panting heavily.

Leon threw him a quick glance from the side, “Then let’s split up!”

“You go!” So Ah urged Chris, gripping the handle of her dagger tightly, “We got it here!”

Chris gave them a curt nod and went off, shooting the zombies out of the way. So Ah huffed under her breath, finding her gun next to a zombie on the ground. It was growling and waving its arms around from under the heavy bodies on top of it. 

She twirled the knife to a correct grip and she brought it down, flinching to herself at the burning sensation at the back of her neck.

That was when Leon caught a glimpse of something shining on her finger; the ring. It sent an electric shock to his own, setting his veins on fire at the feeling. It threw him back to their wedding and that angelic appearance she had when they were exchanging rings. 

When their highly respected friend said; “You may kiss the bride”, So Ah practically bounced in giddy, kissing Leon with her hands cradling his cheeks. He couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling her close by the waist. 

That day was one of the many memorable events and possibly, one of the few happy memorable events. Every night for over two-hundred-and-thirteen days, the memory repeated around his head like a carousel. 

It was unfair. 

It was so goddamn unfair.

Growling in audible frustration at the whole situation, Leon took down the rest of the zombies from his side. When the last body dropped, So Ah stood up, taking her dagger out and looking over at Leon. The silence was so loud it was deafening. 

His back was facing hers, his chest visibly heaving and his hands were clenching by his side – of course, his finger was off the trigger. He wouldn’t look at her when she slowly made her way towards him, worried he might’ve gotten hurt or even worse, bitten.

“Leon?” She asked gently, almost nervously. 

His sharpsharp ices were glaring harshly at the ground. She still wore her ring. She never took it off. How could she? 

After all she had done, she still cherishes something so broken? 

So neglected?

How dare she make him think that the chemistry was still alive and more than ever between them?

More growls emitted at the end of the hallway, finding yet another horde sauntering from the stairs. Her hand hovered over his arm, stepping back with a dreadful feeling crawling up her back.

“Le–”

“Go find Chris,” Leon ordered lowly, reloading his gun and turning partially to look over at the zombies, “I’ll finish up around here.”

“What – no–” Her eyes widened, shaking her head, “I can help.”

“Now’s not the time for you to be stubborn, So Ah.” Leon snapped, staring at her darkly, “Go. Now.”

So Ah went quiet under his eyes. The conflict was more than evident along with something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder at the zombies. 

Instead of listening to him just yet, she hurriedly grabbed his hand to set her dagger on his open palm. Leon blinked at her action, brows forming a deep crease in the centre.

“What–”

“Just so you’d have a reason to come back,” So Ah said, pushing his fingers to curl around the handle, “To return it to me.”

His hand twitched under her touch and she held his hand for a moment. 

“Be safe.”

It was evident she didn’t want to go and leave him to deal with those feral creatures alone. With this line of work, death was looming from every corner, forcing you to treat every day like it might be the last.

So Ah stood on her tiptoes, planting a faint peck on his cheek, her cinnamons softsoft and utterly worried as she whispered, “Please.”

Leon watched her step away from him before jogging past him, picking up her gun from the ground as she turned the corner. Her footsteps gradually grew distant. The sound of the snarls took his attention away from the heat rushing up the sides of his neck and to his ears at the lingering kiss on his cheek.

Leon holstered her knife into his belt with a faint scoff – a chuckle. Ticking his head to the side at the charging zombies, he held his gun, aiming it at them. A newfound determination and hope within him.

“Better make this quick.” Leon quipped wittily, “I got something to return.”

[joz-yyh]

Acta Est Fabula - Ch. 5

SUMMARY: Crimson Court AU. Tardif reports back to the Order to protect the one he holds dear. It goes just as horribly as he expected. No Beta. Read at your own risk.

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant / Crusader x Highwayman / Vestal x Hellion

RATING: M (violence / swearing)

WORD COUNT: 2,857  

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: Lots of characters introduced in this chapter as well as some lore! There's a reason behind every action and mysteries will be revealed in time. Comments and questions welcome~

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Tardif ascends the marble church steps with a burdensome trudge, the sentries waiting up ahead a familiar pair.

Missandei whistles at his arrival, surprised to see him, “Well, look who it is! We were starting to take bets on whether or not you were dead.”

“Feared the worst had happened,” William concurs, talking with his hands, drawing an invisible arch, “The great Nighthawk finally meets his match, slain at the top of his prime.”

“Teh, ye guys wish,” Tardif badgers, setting the rumors straight, “Ain't no one alive who can beat me.”

“Told you, man,” the female sharpshooter smirks, making a grabby motion with her glove, waiting for the other to pay up.

“Taking money straight outta the dog's mouth, you are,” William sighs, sticking out his lower lip, rummaging through his gear.

The houndmaster finally digs out a small coin purse, but is hesitant, looking down at his canine companion in morose consignment.

“Yeah right,” the arbalest growls, snatching up her winnings, “you know how many scraps I sneak Fergus from under the table? She’s getting fed plenty.”

“Explains why I've had to adjust her harness,” the houndmaster muses, rubbing his chin whiskers in assessment.

With a swivel of her floppy ears, the armor clad pet gives a guilty whimper.

“Serves ye right,” Tardif says, brushing the blonde man's shoulder in a mock punch, “Shoulda never bet against me.”

He takes a step back, eyeing the vanguards expectantly.

“Why do they got you two out here guardin’ the door fer, anyway? Thought ye guys would have better things to do.”

“I definitely do,” Missy adds before jabbing her thumb at the other, “don't know about kibbles and bits over here, though.”

William sighs, his posture a perpetual slump from moping too much, “Enough of your horrible dog puns.”

“But they're so good! Fergus loves my dog puns.”

The shaggy wolfdog barks in reply, making the pony-tailed girl grin.

“Told you!”

“Ignore her,” mumbles William, “I know I do.”

“Hey!”

The brute does just that, blocking out her bravado of puffed cheeks and sore green eyes.

“Ye were sayin’?”

“Right. Guess, the powers that be sent out a battalion while ye were gone. We're just filling in.”

“Hn,” Tardif muses, “Wonder what fer?”

“They didn't say,” the houndmaster drawls, crossing his arms in thought, “Not high enough on the ladder, apparently, strictly ‘need to know,’ but I could find out for you, for a price.

“Tryin’ to earn yer gamblin’ debt back, I see.”

“Any way I can.”

“Nice catchin’ up with ye,” Tardif says, patting them both on the shoulder, stepping past their vigil and into the great hall, “but I should get goin’. They’re expectin’ me.”

“You too,” the arbalest smiles, “good luck in there.”

“I'll be here if you change your mind,” William shrugs, mourning his empty pockets.

Tardif takes a deep breath as he enters the long corridor, ignoring the whispers and stares of those lining it, eyes focused solely ahead. It’s a wearisome walk, one of prejudice and judgment that makes him miss the company of his friends.

Lowly hunters like himself were not as well-received as those who were considered of higher rank. A ass-backwards shame considering others of his caliber had the most to lose, doing the dirty work none of the “purer” folk wanted to sully their hands with.

Another series of guards impede his path, blocking his access to the throne room, a poignant caduceus of axes that nearly clip his nose.

“Halt!”

“You must wait to be announced.”

Tardif swallows down the urge to argue that useless code of conduct. There were far too many stupid rules for his liking.

“Send him in,” Reynauld commands, standing from the dias further inside, “He's late.”

The guards remove their barrier, but sneer at Tardif, thinking him too irreverent for an audience with the knight superior, but Tardif returns their malice, leering right back as he traverses beyond their jurisdiction.

Reynauld seems too preoccupied with the scroll in his hands to pay him any mind, the length of it unfurled around his feet, trailing longer than his cape.

The church of Hamlet was governed by joint authority, Reynauld the decisive hammer of fire and action while Junia had a reputation for healing, a passive, merciful ruler that cherished goodness and virtue.

Tardif strides up to the set of twin thrones, kneeling before them to submit his findings.

“Hunter Darkwing reporting back from codename Rapture.”

“‘bout time,” Dismas barks from the shadows, leaning against one of the long red drapes, “Didn't think it would take ya four whole days, but then again, I was betting on the other guy.”

Of course the crusader’s personal body guard would criticize his work. He and Tardif never did get along, always at each other's throats, this undoubtedly causing more strife.

“That'll do Dismas,” Reynauld advises, looking up from his correspondence, tone gentle despite the scallywag who it’s reserved for.

“Teh, if you say so boss,” he growls, crossing his arms, staring out the window into obscurity.

“Well, I never had a doubt,” Boudica retorts, side-eyeing the ex highwayman, standing proudly with her glaive.

The brute can't help smirking in return, knowing at least the reformed hellion was rooting for him.

“Tardif, how nice to see you again,” the vestal smiles, awash in robes of white gold, the ever present warrior woman by her side.

Just as Reynauld has his right hand man, so too does the vestal have her honor guard, each their own inseparable match.

“I take it the threat has been neutralized,” the knight ventures, skipping past the pleasantries, eager to finish this unsavory business.

“More than that,” Tardif answers.

That earns him the holy crusader's undivided attention. “More? How can it be more? Explain.”

“Got a good reason fer takin’ as long as I did. Not only is the target neutralized, I dispatched the baron along with him.”

The room goes silent, Reynauld stiff as always, Tardif unable to discern his reaction from the narrow gaps in his helmet.

Junia and Boudica waver between shocked and impressed and Dismas is well … Dismas.

Tight-lipped as they are, waiting for the knight to share his verdict, the prodigal messenger instigates it.

“C'mon, don't leave me hangin’ in suspense. Tell me yer impressed.”

“He gotta be shittin’ me with this guy,” Dismas scoffs to himself, trying to hide his laugh of pity, “What an idiot.”

Junia's halo of Light glows brightly, reprehensible of such foul language, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Reynauld, the crusader reconciled for the moment.

"Taking down the entire brood is beyond you, Tardif,” the knight finally speaks, as if preaching to a child, “It does not fall to one man, but to all of us.”

“Didn’t ye hear wot I said,” the huntsman snaps, resentful of Reynauld’s lackluster reception, ”I killed the baron.”

“Yes,” the knight begins, throwing his precious scroll upon the ground, stepping up to the pretentious upstart with self-righteous fury, “I heard you defied orders, took authority beyond your rank and you’re being entirely smug about it, feeling entitled to our praise.”

Despite the knight superior standing before him now, garbed in all his shining, mantled glory, Tardif does not feel the distinction of status, addressing him as he would any other man.

“Who cares ‘bout all that,” the brute argues, doubling down, “I just took out the guy no one else could. Hell, ye should send me out again. Betcha I could slay every last one of ‘em wit’ an arm tied behind my back.”

The knight takes a moment to steel himself, gauntlets gripped into fists, pacifying his enraged tone. “Tardif, while I admit you are an exceptional warrior, you are also arrogant, insubordinate. You fail to grasp what is not your place to decide.”

Tardif can hardly stand the hypocrisy.

“Wot diplomacy is there in killin’ beings already deemed unfit to exist?”

The caped crusader does not entertain this, ignoring his underlings' words, a segway for his own victimized tangent.

“I knew it was a risk choosing you for this task,” the knight laments, bowing his head, “A grave disappointment I now regret. And though it pains me to do so, you’re hereby relieved of your hunter status.”

“Like hell I am,” Tardif barks, done with this charade, turning his back on the injustice, intent on storming out.

A steadfast grip reigns him in by the arm, the apprehender none other than the long-haired wild cat Boudica.

“Do not resist,” the warrior woman advises, a tinge of sympathy in her voice, “you know I have to bring you in.”

“Listen to the lady,” mocks Dismas, striding up to his left, enjoying his fall from grace a bit too much, “wouldn’t want to see ya get hurt.”

“Don't worry,” Tardif smirks, “I won't.”

In another horribly brash decision, the brutish delinquent suckerpunches the scarf-wearing bandit, an elbow jab delivered swiftly between the eyes.

The rebellious Tardif is feeling rather proud of himself, much better once he sees Dismas stagger backwards, blood pouring down from his crooked nostrils.

“Makin’ yer little lap dog do everythin’ fer ye as usual I see,” the axeman taunts, an insult aimed at Reynauld, but he stares at his dark-haired lackey, the injured man snarling, his scarf hanging around his neck to reveal his gruesome face scars.

The ex-highwayman wipes his lip, red droplets speckling the stone floor, drawing his firearm in retaliation, shoving the barrel against Tardif's back. “Go on. Say it again. I dare ya. ”

“Insolent savage,” Reynauld roars, demanding obedience from his flock, “can I teach you nothing of humility?”

“Oh, there is one thing I’ve learned,” Tardif intones, raising a middle finger, “Fuck ye!”

“Tardif, please,” Junia begs, breaking her silence, unable to watch this descent into madness any longer.

“My lady,” the persecuted hunter beseeches, “is this how I am to be repaid for all my years of devoted service? Being stripped and unmade? How many times must I lie naked before ye?”

Junia had been like a mother to him, as much as she could be before being coerced into the tireless position she wields now. A part of her will always see Tardif as a frightened little orphan boy, will seek to protect him above all else, hoping to one day absolve her own sins.

“Reynauld … ,” Junia councils, turning to face her fellow bishop, a chord struck within her, “is this punishment not too harsh? Surely, there must be another way.”

“You are too soft on him,” Reynauld decrees, knowing what angle his disciple was playing, “Let us see how he behaves after a few fastidious nights in prison. Perhaps, if he is remorseful of his actions, I will reinstate his title. Until then, get him out of my sight.”

—-

Dismas shoves Tardif forward, leading him down the stairs, further into the dungeon below.

He’s still sporting his pistol, poking it against the captive’s spine every chance he gets, Boudica’s escort trailing behind them, bottle-necked in such a tight space.

They’re underground, the seedy basement just as historic as the church itself, the old layout left unrenovated since it was built, but then again a prison didn’t have to be inviting. Tardif had visited this place a few times in the past, almost desensitized to it's eeriness.

“That's far enough,” the ex-bandit calls, halting their progress just shy of the empty cell, “Boudica, strip him down.”

Once more, the redhead gives her comrade an emphatic look, the brute raising his arms up in surrender as she moves to relieve him of his weapons.

His belts are unclasped one by one, feeling less like a man and more like a thing, a tool robbed of it’s usefulness, a blade dulled and discarded. The hellion hefts his possessions around her shoulder, hooking his weapons onto her own series of straps while he endures this demeaning penalty.

“That should be everything,” the refurbished warrior announces, taking a step back, dressed to the hilt in his gear, signaling her task complete.

Dismas moves to inspect her work, noticing she's missed one item in particular.

“Forgot this,” Dismas says, ripping off the brute’s scouter.

“That stays wit’ me,” Tardif says, eyes forthright and stern, schooling his tone.

“You growin’ attached to the bloodsuckers or somethin’,” Dismas snickers, raising a brow, dangling the parasite's cage around by the clip, “wouldn’t that be the scandal of the century.”

“Don’t like people takin’ wot’s mine,” Tardif growls, putting on his best poker face. If they take Pierre from him now, the highwayman would probably squash him out of existence or worse.

“Teh, s'pose you two can keep 'nother company,” the ex-highwayman says, tossing the tiny creature at him, “Fine, take it. Don’t say I never gave ya nottin’.”

Tardif catches it, clutching the cage tight to his chest, masking his relief as Dismas shoves the brute inside his cozy new home. The gunslinger means to trip him, but the braided man is too big and his balance too practiced. At most Tardif stumbles, keeping his footing.

“Always knew you were destined for a grimy prison cell,” Dismas smirks, eagerly latching the door closed, locking it with a clatter.

“Always knew yer were destined to take it in the ass,” Tardif parries, face a vindictive glower.

Dismas is understandably incensed by the accusation, snarling as he aims his gun, intending to blow the lips right off his wise-cracking tongue.

“Enough,” Boudica shouts, knocking his gun away with her glaive, the firearm discharging against the bars. The bullet ricochets, missing it’s mark and Tardif silently thanks the Light for the hellion’s quick-thinking reflexes.

She leers at Dismas, anger notched across her nose, hurling a harsh reprimand, “He is our comrade at arms. He deserves some respect.”

“Ain't no more, remember,” the bandit sneers, tearing away from their confrontation to retrieve his pistol from the floor. He curses when he spots a nick in the metal casing, an imperfection caused by her meddling, one he’ll have to grind down if there’s any chance of buffing it out.

“That has yet to be seen,” Boudica says, watching the trigger happy hostile carefully.

Dust filters into the air, the side-shaven bandit following the trail of smoke to track where the pellet struck mortar and stone, prying at the hole with his finger.

“If you ask me,” he drawls, rife with ire, blowing against the debris, “He should rot in here. Better yet if we watch him hang.”

“Only if ye join me there,” Tardif quips.

“You wish.” The gunslinger laughs, twirling his pistol around before holstering it, “Maybe that lil’ bloodsucker there will do us all a favor and drink ya in your sleep.”

He spits at ground near the cell, taking his leave, whistling a funeral march, a trait usually customary of the knight superior.

With him gone the hellion can finally relax, her outward visage finally giving way, allowing her true self to shine.

She strides up to the thick-headed ex-hunter, scolding him through the palisade.

“What were you thinking,” Boudica urges, a grimace upon her face, wrinkling the war paint on her eyes, “You knew your actions would displease Reynauld.”

As much as Tardif trusts the hellion with his life, he cannot burden her with the truth.

“I was thinkin’, ‘ey, if I wipe out all the monsters, then we get a much needed vacation.’”

Her expression eases into a frustrated sigh, shaking her head of dreadlocks, “You are brave, *Kló (Talon), like myself. I admire that, but also very *þrár (stubborn).”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I would expect no less,” Boudica says, her blue eyes serious despite the more light-hearted tone, “I will speak with lady Junia, see what I can do for you. Until then, keep your head down.”

Her words are reminiscent of the shrewd disciplinary lessons Junia would often instill in him, but Boudica had the fierce wild heart to back it up.

“Can't cause much trouble from in here,” the axeman shrugs, looking around the lame accommodations. Bits of straw are scattered about the cell, iron manacles nailed to the wall, a questionably stained bucket positioned in the corner. Well, at least there was a bed, though it wasn’t much more than a weathered slab of wood suspended by chain.

Her dark lips curl into a smirk, recognizing Tardif as the resourceful kind, an underdog never to be outwitted for long.

“Sure you could. I know you.”

“Heh heh, yer right.”

The well-meaning hellion reaches her painted hand through the bars, offering assurances, “Be strong my friend. I will visit again when I can.”

He accepts the gesture, their palms sealing together tightly, making a vow of his own.

“Ye better, else I'll hunt ye down myself.”

A flex of muscle is shared between them, his and then hers, their arms swelling with combined effort.

“If it ever comes to that, I will meet you head on,” she nods, shaking on it before letting go.

The two friends part ways, Tardif watching as her tabard disappears behind a wall of pewter, headed back the same way she came.

[countlessrealities]

@advnterccs sent: Cutest headcanon: When Rick is alone in the garage, he'll end up either passing out or falling asleep at the work bench. And its only on the days when Morty has a nightmare, he'll come into the garage, find Rick there, and proceed to put a blanket over his sleeping form. Sometimes he'll stay to watch his grandpa sleep, even whisper out some of his frustrations to vent, but other times he just leaves without another word or mention of it. And Rick knows that Morty does this, but he refuses to acknowledge it but he's secretly very pleased with it. { For both Rick and Morty because i couldn't help coming up with one for both of them xD } What's the cutest headcanon you have for my muse? || Accepting !

Omg, this headcanon fits so well the way I write them! They don't show care openly, but through little gestures / moments like this one. They never mention them or talk about it, but they both know what they mean and treasure them x3

Rick is basically the centre of Morty's universe, his best friend and his (although chaotic) point of reference. In a universe that it's nothing but chaos and randomness, Rick is the (more or less) steady ground Morty clings to. So it's just natural that he'd go find him when he needs comfort. Even if he never asks for it directly, or even if Rick can't give him anything (because he's passed out like in this case, or too drunk to notice, etc). Just sharing the same room, seeing each other, it's enough.

And I think that for Rick it's the same, and that's why he so often goes to pass out in Morty's room / on his bed. He needs the company, the comfort, the safety that Morty offers him just by being Morty.

They tend to take it to the extreme at times, because it becomes totalising and they are the only person for each other. And that's one of the sign of their codependency. But I still think it can be sweet, even when it's straight out pathological xD

I'm gonna add a little bit, just to make it cuter x3 I can see Morty, in winter, grabbing a blanket when he wakes up after a nightmare and heads down in the garage. He knows that the room is cold and Rick drinks too much, so he needs something to keep him warm. So he drapes the blanket over Rick's shoulders before sitting down to watch him and vent.

In the same way, in the aftermath of a rough adventure, Rick knows that it's more likely for Morty to have nightmares, so he makes sure to leave either some juice or a sweet snack for Morty to find when he comes down after waking up.

Those little things aren't acknowledged either, but they are both content and satisfied with their little unspoken arrangement.

[hezzabeth]

"Everyone, make way! The Apple queen needs to rest before the grand ball tonight," Bridgadeiro screamed to the universe in general.

"Oh, Goup, we have to actually go to the Apple Ball now! And Revati will need a new dress," Mrs. Bun seemed to realize.

"I don't think we all have to go; nobody's forcing us," Vanilla said mildly.

Half an hour later, Revati was back in the Bun family's kitchen, carefully slicing open each of the apples. Bridgadeiro had wandered off with his father to set up "the flower fireworks" for the ball.

"Let's see, you have broad shoulders with a large bust, very small hips," Mrs. Bun, who was circling Revati, remarked.

"She does have great legs, probably from walking everywhere," Vanilla added from where they appeared to be examining a bunch of dress designs on the wall.

Revati merely ignored them and used a fork to carefully pry out another Martian Opal.

"What pattern codes do we have? She can't show up in that sundress," Mrs. Bun asked.

"We could go with the satin wrap-around I wore last Australia Day," Vanilla remarked as Revati grabbed the last apple.

Twelve apples, four opal seeds per apple.

"No, the two of you will look too similar! I have a pattern I wore to granny's funeral," Mrs. Bun replied.

"A funeral dress? Really?" asked Vanilla.

Forty-eight Martian fire opals.

"It's long and decent," Mrs. Bun pointed out. The fire opals glimmered, still covered in the remnants of sticky pulp.

"You don't have to keep the seeds; they're just weird pattern glitches! One time we created a bunch of tomatoes with gold seeds," Mrs. Bun said to her.

"I'm keeping them," Revati said, scooping them up.

One of the first history lessons Amma taught Revati was the legend of the Mars rover.

"Long, long ago, when our world was barren and desolate, a robot from old Earth came. The robot's name was Curiosity, and for eons, he rolled across the dusty red surface. Then one night, he discovered in a dry crater the water opals," Amma would whisper.

"We could fuse them into a necklace using the creatrix; that would add some glamour," Vanilla mused.

"Fine, just don't chip them! Otherwise, we won't be able to read them later," Revati said, handing her the opals.

"Read them?" Vanilla asked, faintly confused.

"Martian fire opals have a natural property where you can record information! Obviously, I was given these for a reason," Revati said.

"See, if she wears the shiny seeds with the funeral dress, she will look perfectly fine," Mrs. Bun said.

Suddenly, the kitchen door swung open dramatically.

"This year's apple queen is not wearing a funeral dress to the grand apple gala!" Auntie Magdeline declared, marching in carrying a bundle of red shimmering fabric.

Auntie Magdeline shook the fabric out, revealing a scarlet ballgown. The shiny silk was covered in apples made out of sequins and beads. The sleeves were ruffled layers, while the neckline, dipped in gold, was scandalously low.

"Auntie! Where did you get that? I haven't seen a style this sexy in years," Mrs. Bun said.

"Lady Mill influenced a lot of the fashion around here, and she's obsessed with the innocent princess look," Vanilla explained to Revati.

"Tish! This is the dress I wore when I was the Apple Queen sixty-nine years ago," Auntie Magdeline said, holding the dress up to Revati.

Revati merely touched the fabric. The sequins felt like scratchy ants. Revati flinched her hand, recalling.

"It's pretty, but it looks itchy on the outside," Revati said instead.

"Oh, it's fully lined with the softest cruelty-free silk," Auntie Magdalena said, stroking the fabric as if it were a favorite child.

The kitchen door suddenly swung open with a bang, and Auntie Saffron appeared.

"Sister cousin! I can't believe you would even think about giving this tourist the Esopus Spitzenburg," Auntie Saffron cried, gesturing towards the dress.

"You named a dress?" Revati had to ask.

"A dress? The Esopus Spitzenburg was worn by our great-grandmother to meet the Mill Emperor," Auntie Saffron said, patting the dress.

"It was handcrafted using a thousand killer butterfly cocoons. The sequins were forged using smashed ruby roses," Auntie Saffron added in a quiet, dreamy voice.

Her eyes then snapped upwards, meeting Revati's. Hateful cold eyes.

"The Esopus Spitzenburg was put into a trust to be worn by Bun women during events of historical significance!" Auntie Saffron said, trying to grab the dress off her sister cousin.

Revati had seen such eyes before.

"Are you seriously trying to intimidate me with this whole old, cruel matriarch act? I've faced psychotic killers," Revati snapped back, clenching the dress.

"You are not now, and nor will you ever be, a Bun woman," Auntie Saffron replied coldly.

"Really? Well, Bridgadeiro adores me! I'll just have to go and make a baby with him, and then I'll share some of its DNA in my placenta," Revati replied sweetly, and Auntie Saffron dropped the dress with shock.

"You wouldn't dare," she growled as Revati triumphantly held the dress up.

"Can I go to the rose room to try this on?" She asked Auntie Magdeline, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course, dear! Just clap your hands twice to turn off the government surveillance system," Auntie Magdeline said, and Vanilla handed something to Revati.

"Here, see if the seeds go with it," she said.

The creatrix had spun a fine necklace in the shape of a spiderweb, the opals studding its surface.

"I'll be right back," Revati said, heading to where Dityaa had slept the night before.

"Are you really going to let that little snippet talk to me like that?" Auntie Saffron huffed as Revati walked down the hallway.

"Well, as you pointed out, she's not actually a Bun woman, sister cousin. I can't tell her to do anything," Revati heard Auntie Magdeline's voice reply.

The first thing Revati did when she entered the rose room was clap her hands twice. Then, carefully, she took off the Kaskthaali necklace, tucking it into the sundress's pockets. Next came the Martian opal necklace; Vanilla had somehow made everything much easier.

Revati had only ever seen Martian opals a few times on the road, usually embedded in the walls of natural history museums. Before the widespread data cloud, they were often used in Martian libraries to store books. It was Nanni who explained that the key to unblocking them involved warmth from human skin. The necklace hung heavy; forty-eight tiny opals had a lot of weight. The warmth began to spread up her chest and towards her chin. It reminded Revati of Bridgadeiro's hand trailing down her neck.

"Greetings Lady IO, this is a pre-recorded message from Captain Delphi of the lost Princess resistance," a lady's voice suddenly erupted from the necklace.

"Oh god," Revati groaned; of course, her sister had joined some sort of resistance army. She probably thought it was romantic.

"Now that you've successfully destroyed the hidden AI appliance base on Cairnes, it is time for your next assignment," the necklace chirped again.

"Successfully destroyed? Thousands have died," Revati hissed at the necklace.

"We have recently uncovered the identity of the scientist responsible for your unique abilities," the necklace said, and the wall in front of the rose room's bed lit up. A still image of a man with thick light blue hair and a handlebar mustache stared down at Revati.

"Lord Artichoke Mill. We have secured your position as the Apple Queen, which will grant you passage to his private estate. During the ball, a distraction will occur, and you will extract Lord Mill, taking him to the pre-discussed rendezvous point," the necklace finished.

Suddenly the opal grew cold, and the image disappeared. Revati grabbed at the gold chains, completely flabbergasted. Surely the one-handed man with the apples couldn't have been so stupid? No one in their right mind would mistake Revati for Dityaa.

"Is everything alright in there? Does the dress fit?" Mrs. Bun's voice suddenly called.

"Just a second!" Revati cried, tugging at the chain, causing the necklace to break, and the opals to scatter all over the floor.

[astrajinn]

Duel of the Fates part 1

N/A: Okay, I will only narrate the fight from Astra's, Obi-Wan's, and Anakin's perspectives, okay? Jar Jar's perspective will not be included.

The three entered the room and positioned themselves behind Anakin, except for Astra, who stood by his side due to being the shortest.

—The Force is strong in him—declared one of the masters, causing Astra to smile at the boy.

—Will he be trained?—asked Qui-Gon.

—He won't be trained—declared Windu—. He's too old—assured.

—Even if you add up the age of everyone here, Master Yoda is still the oldest—whispered the girl, eliciting a laugh from the boy.

—He is the chosen one; you must feel it. Just like Astra, there can't be one without the other.

—Hmm, uncertain future, the boy has, and with her, I can't see it—mused Yoda.

—I will train him. Anakin will be my Padawan from now on.

—An apprentice already has, Qui-Gon. Impossible to have a second if the girl depends on you.

—The code forbids it.

—Another master could train me. Master Dooku, who trained Master Qui-Gon, has no Padawan under his care.

—I am ready for initiation—Obi-Wan hurried to say.

—The council will decide when someone is ready.

—He's stubborn and has much to learn from the Force, but he's capable. He won't learn anything more from me.

—Skywalker's destiny will be decided later.

—This is not the right time. The Senate will choose another chancellor, and Queen Amidala will return home, putting pressure on the Federation and possibly escalating the confrontation.

—It would make the attacker of the queen reveal himself.

—Go to Naboo with the queen and discover the identity of this dark warrior. That's what we need to solve the mystery of the Sith.

—You must be joking; she can't go—yelled the youngest.

—Young Starling—you were called.

—Jedi shouldn't even get involved in government affairs. If it will be—she knelt in front of the council and pleaded—Please, I implore you, send someone else.

—The decision has already been made. Either accept it and accompany them or stay in the temple waiting for their return—Windu pronounced as Qui-Gon carried her.

—May the Force be with you.

With this, the four left, and the masters looked at each other.

—Her attachment to him is too great—commented Master Mundi.

—She is still young, has much to learn—Yoda reminded.

—Respect for elders is one of those things—Windu mocked.

—You see disrespect; I see a frightened girl who wants to save her father—said Master Yaddle.

—She acts as if she were going to die—pointed out Master Shak Ti.

—Perhaps not to that extent, but none can deny that Astra has shown the ability to perceive certain things unconsciously—Yaddle recalled—. Perhaps we were wrong not to listen to her.

Meanwhile, the group reached the hangar, where Naboo's entourage awaited them to go to the planet and resolve what was happening.

—Do you think they will train me?

—Sure they will, and if they say no, Qui-Gon will do it. He promised.

—But no one will train you.

—I am already part of the order; they won't leave me without training. In the worst case, I know someone who would teach me without hesitation. Alone, I don't think it's a good idea to go on this mission.

—Everything will be fine.

—How do you know?

—Because the best Jedi in the galaxy accompanies me.

—Astra, please get on the ship.

—Yes, Qui-Gon—she nodded, getting on her speeder and entering the ship.

Once underway, Anakin was left in the care of the pilot while the Jedi, the captain, the queen, and her handmaidens were in another room talking.

—Upon landing, the Federation will arrest her and force her to sign the treaty.

—I agree. I don't know what she hopes to achieve with this—Qui-Gon emphasized.

—Reclaim what is ours.

—More like putting a blaster to everyone's head. Should we wait for them to pull the trigger and find out which one is loaded? This is suicide—said the girl, twirling her lightsaber in her palm and stopping it repeatedly.

—The girl is right; we don't have an army, and there are not enough men.

—I can only protect her, not fight a war for you.

—You wouldn't even have to protect her if she had stayed still in Coruscant as she was asked to—she complained, restraining the urge to punch her.

—Jar Jar Binks—the monarch called.

—Misa, Your Highness?

—Yes, you have to help me.

The queen explained her plan, and somehow Astra had hope that they could get help from the Gungans, who, according to Jar Jar, were a warrior people with a good strategy despite their strange way of speaking. When they landed, Jar Jar went to talk to his people, Obi-Wan went with Qui-Gon, and Astra stayed with Anakin and Padmé.

—Do you think the plan will work?—the boy asked.

—I couldn't tell you. I have a pretty clear idea of how stubborn this supposed queen is. But as for the king, I can't say if he hates everyone on the surface or just dislikes Jar Jar.

—You're still on the same thing—Padmé sighed resignedly.

—I'll keep on it until you open your mouth to tell the truth—she declared, walking toward her father—. Take care of him, Padmé; he still doesn't know how to fight.

—Sometimes I don't know if he loves me or sees me as a helpless animal—the boy asserted with some regret.

—Jar Jar is taking too long—pointed out the padawan.

—Do you think he abandoned us?—the girl questioned.

—No, you saw how they treated him last time. I doubt he'll stay in a place like this.

—Even if it's the place where he was born?

—Even if it is. Here he comes.

Jar Jar emerged from the water, shook himself off before reaching them with not very pleasant news.

—No one there, the city is deserted. Maybe a fight, perhaps.

—Have they taken them to the fields?

—I think they eliminated them—suggested the captain.

—Misa, don't cry.

—They live in the water—reminded the girl—. The droids would take a while to find them. Maybe they managed to escape.

—Do you know where they are, Jar Jar?

—In these cases, the Gungan sanctuaries are always. Misa will take you; let's go. Misa will take you.

Everyone began to walk through the forest towards the sanctuary. Jar Jar led the way, followed by the supposed queen. Then came the four Force users along with the captain, the queen's handmaidens, and some soldiers. There weren't many, to be honest, but there were enough to attract the attention of the Gungans when they arrived at the sanctuary.

Jar Jar spoke with one of the guards whom he apparently knew, and he led them in front of the king, announcing only the queen.

—Your Excellency, Queen Amidala of Naboo.

—Hello, Great Chief, Your Excellency.

—Jar Jar Binks. Tell me, who are the others?—he asked, annoyed.

—I am Queen Amidala of Naboo; I have come in peace—the "queen" spoke.

—Ah, an important Naboo. You bring the chattedroids; you are very naughty.

—I've looked for them because I want to form an alliance.

—Your Excellency—Padmé spoke, stepping in front of the supposed queen, causing a smile in the youngest present.

—Who is she?

—I am Queen Amidala, she is my decoy. My bodyguard, my loyal protector. I apologize for deceiving you, but it was necessary to protect myself. Although we may not always agree, Your Excellency, our two societies have always been at peace. Now, the Federation is destroying what it cost us so much to build. If we do not act, we will lose everything, forever you must support us—she knelt before the king— I beg you to support us. We are your humble servants.

With these words, everyone in the entourage knelt to demonstrate the honesty in the words of the young queen, much to Astra's annoyance, who had to get off her speeder to do so. The king thought for a moment, leaving the attendees expectant, and out of nowhere, to their dismay, he burst into laughter as if he had heard the best joke.

—You guys don't think you're better than us Gungans— he exclaimed while still laughing—. I love hearing that. Being friends would be fabulous— he shook his head in a strange way, amusing the Force users and confusing the others.

The Gungans planned their strategy with the members of the guard who knew the terrain better. Obi-Wan spoke with Qui-Gon, and Astra tried to see what would happen with the battle, although it was almost impossible for her to notice anything. In her mind, there was torment; she saw the destroyed temple, saw a woman crying in the arms of another, and then nothing. No matter what the Force showed her, she saw nothing that gave her peace, nothing that indicated that everything would be fine. At some point, it became evident since she was floating almost half a meter off the ground, and the grass around her sometimes seemed to wither and quickly grow back. She felt a liquid run down her nose before falling to the ground when someone touched her shoulder.

—Are you okay?—Padmé asked, handing her a handkerchief.

—I would be better if you hadn't distracted me—she reproached, cleaning the blood without any care.

—What are you trying to do?

—Find out if your suicidal plan will end up killing us all.

—I'm pretty sure everything will be fine—Padmé reassured her.

—What if it's not? The Force is capable of many things, but there is still no way to bring back life without taking another in return.

—Astra, Anakin, come here—Qui-Gon called.

Qui-Gon asked Anakin to watch and come to warn when the Gungans were on their way, and Astra asked to stay with Padmé temporarily.

—They're here already—Anakin announced when he arrived.

—They did it.

—You did well, Jar Jar Binks, you have united us with the Naboo—congratulated the king—. So, I will appoint you Bomboso general.

—General—exclaimed the Gungan before fainting.

—What is the situation?

—Almost everyone is in camps; some police and guards formed an underground resistance. I brought as many leaders as I could. The Federation's army is larger and stronger than we thought. It's a battle that I doubt we can win.

—Not without the right strategy—acknowledged the girl.

—It's impossible.

—Difficult, not impossible, and we have a small surprise factor.

—At this point, they must have discovered the ship.

—And they know how many of us were on it, and they know the strength of the Naboo army, but they don't know the strength of the Gungans. It's an opportunity we must take advantage of.

—It's true. The battle will be a distraction; the Gungans will make the droids leave the city. R2—the droid projected a hologram with the plans of Naboo—We'll enter the city through the secret passage behind the waterfall. When we reach the main entrance, Captain Panaka will create a distraction. After that, we'll be at the palace and capture the Viceroy. Without the Viceroy, they will be lost and confused. What do you suggest, Jedi Master?

—The Viceroy will have many guards.

—It will be difficult to reach the throne room, but once there, it won't be a problem.

—Although it's a good idea, there is a possibility with this distraction that many Gungans will die.

—We are ready to continue—assured the chief.

—We have a plan that will immobilize the army of droids. I'll send any pilots I have to neutralize the droid control ship.

—It's a clever plan, with a lot of risk; their ship's weapons may not penetrate the shield.

—And there is an even greater danger. If the Viceroy manages to escape, he will return with another army of droids, Your Majesty.

—Intelligence is not your strong suit, right, Obi-Wan—mocked the girl—The third step of the plan is to capture the Viceroy; he said it right after the part where we infiltrate the palace through the secret passages.

—It's the most important, everything depends on it.

The Gungan troops took their positions and began to march toward the battlefield. Meanwhile, the Jedi and several soldiers entered the city in small groups to go unnoticed. They positioned themselves against the wall, and Padmé used a flashlight to signal the captain, who responded indicating that they could pass. Qui-Gon crouched in front of the children and first addressed Anakin.

—Ani entrar busca donde puedas ocultarte y quédate ahí.

—Si—acepto.

—No salgas—volteo a ver a la niña—. Cuidarás de Padme quédate con ella y no la dejes atrás.

—Si Qui-Gon—confirmo al tiempo que los soldados disparaba distrayendo a los droides que quedaban en la ciudad.

Los Jedi encendieron sus sables y desviaron algunos disparos y Obi-Wan se quedó atrás de la fila decapitando a un droide que se acercó demasiado. Entraron por puerta hacia el interior del palacio y avanzaron cubriendo a Anakin a Padme y algunos soldados que se les unieron hasta llegar al hangar. El fuego de los blasters los recibió, los jedi iban delante repeliendo el fuego.

—Anakin cúbrete—exclamo Qui-Gon.

—Todos a sus naves—ordeno Padme a los pilotos.

Estos corrieron a sus transportes intentando que no les dieran. R2 llego a una de las naves y un juego de ganchos lo subió; seguidamente empezó a emitir pitidos para atraer a Anakin. Las naves despegaban tan pronto Los pilotos subían a ellas

—Estas latas ya me están cansando—se quejo la más pequeña decapitando otra.

—¿Qué pasa princesa? ¿Te quejas de tu plan?—se mofó Obi-Wan.

—Mi plan era quedarnos en Coruscant ¿Quieres seguirlo?

—¿Siempre son así?—Padme disparo.

—Creo que moriré antes de que esos dos se lleven bien.

Anakin subió a la nave con R2 y vio a las dos más jóvenes luchando junto con los mayores, intentando deshacerse de todos los droides. Astra apago su sable y uso la fuerza para sujetar al último grupo de droides y lanzarlos afuera del hangar.

—Hubieras empezado por ahí—se rio Padme.

—Mis habilidades tiene un límite—informo repitiendo la acción de girar el sable en su mano—. Debemos seguir.

—El virrey debe estar en la sala del trono—

—¡Grupo rojo! ¡Grupo azul! Síganme por aquí—ordeno el capitán a lo que todos se dirigieron a la puerta.

—Oigan, espérenme—pidió Anakin intentando bajarse de la nave.

—Anakin, quédate ahí. Estarás seguro—informo Qui-Gon

—Pero—trato de protestar

—Quédate en esa nave.

—Quiero ayudar.

—Ani obedece, volveremos por ti, lo prometo—desplegó su deslizador y subió a él.

Las puestas se abrieron y estaban por salir, vieron a una figura encapuchada con la cabeza baja que los estaba esperando. Cuando se enderezó revelo sus ojos, entre amarillos y rojos, con una furia maldad que la pequeña no supo descifrar.

—Déjenos con él—pidió el maestro caminando entre los soldados.

—Todos, la ruta larga—ordeno Padme caminando hacia el otro lado con los soldados y doncellas detrás.

Qui-Gon Obi-Wan y Astra se colocaron firmes frente al hombre, quien retiro la capucha de su cabeza, revelando a un Zabrak de piel roja y tatuajes negros. Los jedi por su parte, retiraron sus capas y las tiraron al suelo para tener mayor libertad de movimiento. El sith encendió su arma, un sable de doble empuñadura, al mismo tiempo que los Jedi encendían los suyos y se colocaban en guardia.

—Astra quédate con Padme, tu deber ahora es protegerla—sentencio Qui-Gon.

—Papá—susurro asustada apretando la empuñadura del sable.

—Todo estará bien, Rani ve.

En contra de sus deseos, Astra paso detrás de su padre y su alumno para llegar hasta Padme que lidiaba con unos droideka con campos de energía.

El zabrak avanzo hacia los jedi y el primero en atacar fue Obi-Wan que salto sobre él para quedar a su espalda e intento darle un golpe de esta forma antes de ser bloqueado. La destreza del Sith era innegable, ya que podía repeler los ataques de los dos Jedi al mismo tiempo usando un arma bastante compleja.

Por otra parte, Astra no la estaba pasando mejor, los droideka no les permitían avanzar y ella sola no tenía la habilidad suficiente como para repeler todos los disparos. Aun así hacia su mejor esfuerzo mientras que los soldados y las mujeres disparaban intentando darles, pero el campo de fuerza que estos poseían lo hacía casi imposible.

On the other side of the hangar, Anakin was checking the buttons on his ship, trying to find the trigger to help Astra and Padme with the droids. R2 emitted a complaining beep, and he responded.

"That's what I'm trying to do; I don't know where the trigger is." He pressed a button that made the ship move forward. "Oops, not this one. Maybe it's this." He pulled a lever, and the hatch closed. "Wait, here it is." He took control and maneuvered the ship before pressing the trigger to shoot the droids.

"Let's go," indicated the queen, running into the palace with the soldiers behind her.

"It's on autopilot," he yelled when he saw it was about to take off. "R2, deactivate it." He put on a helmet.

"Padme, was that Anakin?" asked the girl, floating by her side.

"He'll be fine; it's safer than here."

"If you say so."

While the Jedi continued to battle the Sith, the blows went back and forth without rest. They couldn't hit him, but they also didn't give him a chance to attack. Until a moment when the Zabrak jumped while blocking a low blow from Obi-Wan and kicked Qui-Gon in the abdomen, throwing him to the ground. This gave the Sith the opportunity to move away towards one of the hangar doors leading to an auxiliary power plant. There, he used the Force to lift a cut piece of a droid and damage the circuit to allow him to pass. However, he couldn't afford to be distracted, as the Padawan was right behind him and didn't miss the chance to attack him again. The master ran to his aid, and before entering, the Sith hit Obi-Wan in the same way he had done with his master, throwing him far from the entrance, leaving only the master with enough time to step back. The series of bridges and generators supplying power were over a deep pit that, from where they were, seemed to have no bottom. The battle continued in this place, with the Sith retreating to a control panel from where he did a backflip to reach one of the bridges, followed by the Jedi.

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Chut Chut PateesaHow are you?

Once again here with you, I want to let you know that all the chapters of this first season will be published before or at the latest by December 31st, that is, before this year's Festival of Lights.

-Astra, run, I think he's finally going to do it. -Obi-Wan, is he going to shave his beard? -What? No, silly, Anakin challenged Jar Jar to a game of Sabacc, and Jar Jar is winning. -Are you kidding? I have to see this.

Well, my beloved Padawans, as always, I ask you to like, comment, follow me, beware of the Sith, and remember that "your focus determines your reality." And May the Force be with you.

[hvneymelons]

Dante flashed her a toothy grin, "Exactly!" he replied, giving his drink yet another stir. When she commented on the food he nodded in agreement. There was nothing that Leon could cook for him that he wouldn't devour in mere seconds. Ever since they were younger, when Dante was no more than a pipsqueak, he felt this desperate need for his cousin's attention. Throughout the years you'd think he'd grow out of it, but even now as the girl raved about the food review, he felt the need to empathize just how amazing Leon's dishes were. "Oh, you would have loved the food from the chef's old restaurant." Dante mused, salivating at the mere thought, "The precision with which he cooks is otherworldly." Dante didn't have to think too long on his response, but did it deliberately, pursing his lips upwards as he glanced up. "I'm pretty basic. I like some good ol' nacho cheese and bacon. Maybe some chives to dress it. I'd say parsley, but I personally don't think that has any taste." He leaned over towards her, covering his mouth as if to tell her the biggest secret in the world, and whispered "I honestly think it's all just a facade. Parsley, you know? There's no distinct flavor to it, and they just add it onto everything. Like - what gives?"

Well Leilani's worries began to ease a bit when he didn't seem to recognize who she was. Maybe he just didn't have enough time to piece it together yet or he wasn't really going to. She nodded as she looked in his direction at his suggestion and she smiled. "Alright, you heard 'em, i'm going to get some pickles with that too!" She said to the bartender. "I heard a lot of good things about the food here so I guess if someone makes a suggestion then it's something I should really listen to." She mentioned to Dante, smiling at him. Maybe this is all she needed, was just a talk with him so that she could ease into the topic or was it smarter to just lay it all out with a blurt? Probably not. That was probably going to scare him. "What do you like to eat your fries with?" She asked.