#i see small lizard and go shoo!

[ohemaa-warrior]

Do you ever think parts of a past life or an ancestral trait shows up in the mundane?

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Wisteria

Part three

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word count: 1,168

Synopsis: Someone has been running laps around Miguel’s mind.

“Where’s Miguel???”

This had been the question all week long in the spider society. After ten pm he was gone. For other spiders, this was a normal if not longer time to leave work. But for Miguel, the workaholic rarely left his office. No one could successfully kick him out, not even Lyla. But for some reason ever since he stopped that lizard anomaly from Earth 1829, something about him has been different..

Jess was the first to clock it when she actually saw a smile form on his face. “Something’s up.” She told Lyla. “With Miguel?” “Who else? He’s been leaving at a normal time and hasn’t been frowning as much as he usually does.” Lyla thought for a moment about it, “you know I have been seeing him a little bit happier lately…”

She immediately began pulling up his files and stalking through them. Her yellow skin got brighter for a second when she found the reason.

“Aha!” She said, fishing out a tiny imaginary digital file and pulling it up.

“About two nights ago, he walked this woman, y/n l/n, home to her apartment after successfully taking down an anomaly that was in her area. He met her again last night to walk her home, which is probably the cause!”

They both looked at each other for a second.

“You don’t think he’s….” “No! I’ve never seen him like that before..” “Maybe she and he…-“

“Maybe who and I what.”

The two froze and turned around, Miguel right beside them now. His mask was off, with an eyebrow raised and the usual grumpy expression was looking at them.

“Miguel! We were just talking about work-“ “So who’s y/n?” Lyla asked, almost casually.

Although he didn’t move or seem surprised by the question, a small hint of blush formed on his tan skin. Jess noticed it immediately, but kept the thought to herself.

“She’s a citizen I was helping yesterday.” “And the day before? Sooo what’s up with that?” Lyla says, poking at the already annoyed bear.

“Lyla. Stop. It’s none of your business, I was just helping her.” He then turned to Jess, “It’s not yours either.” “Sorry, I guess I’ll get back to work.” Jess raised her arms up in defense, and left the two alone.

“Riiiiight, so why’d you go back.”

Lyla continued, making Miguel roll his eyes at her in annoyance. “She said she walks home every night, I was just being Spider-Man and walked her home.” “So why didn’t you just give her a taser and call it a day?” “Lyla, I'm not having this talk with you.” He said, and tried to shoo her away, but she went through his hand, staying in her spot around his shoulder now.

“Are you hiding something Miguel?” “No.”

“Then why does it look ,Ike you got sunburnt on your face.” “What? It doesn’t! Ugh- I’m not talking about this anymore.” He stormed off, slamming the door to his office on the way in.

“He’s definitely hiding something.” Lyla said to herself before glitching off, away to deal with something else.

Miguel stood in his office, looking at different screens.

With anomalies always appearing in different earths, there was always trouble to deal with everywhere. Checking multiple earths through the screens, he accidentally (completely purposefully) checks yours. Seeing nothing but semi empty streets lightly peppered with the usual purple flowers, he becomes curious.

What are you doing right now?

Probably in the book store helping with someone, or just being the kind person you were, but what? He wondered, subconsciously checking on more of your world. He didn’t know the Spider-Man who ran it, but after checking his files and the footage of him, he didn’t need to.

Although being presented and acting like an eco-friendly and caring hero, the man was really an arrogant and selfish person. After watching some interviews and reading his canon events, Miguel was already sick of the man. Working with the largest corporations in your earth to actually go against the climate instead of helping protect it like he promised and ignoring the people he was supposed to be saving, Spider-Man 1829 was a villain.

Miguel scoffed at the news, of course it had to be your universe. Of course that kind of ‘hero’ had to be protecting your earth.

He soon fell down a well of his own thoughts, not noticing Lyla popping up next to him until she spoke up.

“Still thinking about that woman?” She asked, propped up on a tiny digital yellow chair the same size as her.

Miguel jumped ( his non-existent spidey sense was always a huge help), “What? No!” “Then why’s her earth's footage covering your screens?” A smug smile plastered on her face, knowing she caught him red handed.

He grumbled, taking it off the yellow holographic screens.

“Anything else you have to say?” “Nope!”

And with that, she popped into thin air, leaving the already tired and annoyed Spider-Man even more in the regular feeling she had while working. He sighed, pinching the brick of his nose.

“Why did I program her like that??”

This was a question he repeated regularly.

Suddenly a message signaling the presence of an anomaly in a different earth showed up, prompting Miguel to go on a mission. He sighed, and turned his mask back on, covering his tan and tired face. He was back in the game.

After two more annoyingly difficult missions, Miguel was back sitting in his office.

Running a hand through his hair, he checked the clock. 9:48. His heart skipped a beat, knowing it was almost time to see you again. He stopped for a minute.

Wait. Why’d he have that reaction?

He barely knew you, and this was just him doing Spider-Man work. Right? Regardless, Miguel stood up and began to push the coordinates of your world onto his goober. After stepping into the brightly colored portal that appeared in front of him and going through the time tubes to your world, he landed on the familiar concrete.

Immediately clocking the rain that was pouring down, he sighed and quickly went back to hq to find an umbrella for you. Just in case. Miguel fished one out of the corner of his office, and continued on his plan.

He entered earth 1829 once again, and read his clock. 9:57. Looking down from the top of the building he landed on, he noticed the dimly lit lights of your bookstore still on. He remembered you mentioning your interest in books, and complaining about the screens that people were beginning to turn to instead of reading a physical copy. Miguel admired your love for literature and the earth, something he never really stopped liking either.

Again lost in thoughts surrounding you, he didn’t realize it was closing time until you were locking the front door of the shop. A smile emerged on his face under the mask he wore, watching you for a second. You were wearing nothing but a small shirt and shorts, clearly not knowing the heavy weather that would ensure. Freezing in the wet cold air that cling to you, he swung down to meet you.

“Hey.” He said, standing on the pavement suddenly next to you with the umbrella in hand, You turn to him, a smile he could look at for days on your almost ethereal face.

“You’re back.”

A/N: Oh em gee. My first story done!!! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to end it early or what, but let me know if I should make a part four! My requests are also open for the moment so make sure to give me any ideas y’all are thinking! Thanks for reading!!!

[molarbeardoc]

I love cooking. Sorry if this isn’t as high quality as the rest! I forgot to save it earlier and it deleted like 7 paragraphs and dialogue so I had to rewrite some of it AND I was struggling to think of how I wanted to continue it. Also it gets kinda funky at the end so uhm yeah if you’ve got any questions about that part feel free to ask ily guys remember to be silly

Split would open her eyes, finding herself in an empty white void. This was definitely a dream, or a nightmare, she hasn’t figured it out yet. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter..

She sat up, looking around before trekking through the blank space, curiosity fuelling each step she took. Something about this place was… ominous. Like she shouldn’t be here.

If that didn’t make it better, she felt as if she were being watched. As if something were documenting her every move while she made her way deeper into the void.

`What if someone is..?`

The thought made her shudder. Someone, or something, was hiding in this blank canvas. Hiding out of sight despite there being no crooks or crevices, nor shelves or walls, to hide in or behind. Whatever this threat was, she did not plan on sticking around for a friendly meet and greet, picking up the pace as her ears lowered.

As she continued on his invisible path, she noticed something in n the far distance. She couldn’t entirely make it out but it seemed… Well she couldn’t really describe it. But seeing as there was nowhere else to go, she made her way towards it.

As the trekked closer she began noticing how the floor was fading from its pristine whiteness to an inky black. If that wasn’t enough, she also noticed how every pawstep she took left a small ripple effect on its surface, as if she were walking on water.

That’s not possible is it? The only times she’s heard of that happening is in religion and that one lizard. Maybe it was oobleck? She knew enough about it, well the basics at least. It was a liquid when there was no force applied and solid when there was.

If so why didn’t it stain her paws? She’s seen it stain people’s hands went dealt with, so why weren’t hers becoming black or at least grey?

She was yanked from her thoughts as she heard the subtle sound of movement behind her, whipping around to meet whoever her friend, or enemy, was. Unfortunately, it was no friend and a deep scowl graced the Fruit-Taur’s face.

"You?! What are you doing here?! How are you even here?! Out of everything, it’d had to be you! I don’t get why DrRETRO doesn’t just use a sledge hammer against you already! No one likes you!"

She snapped at the smiling rock beneath her a quiet yet guttural growl rumbling in her throat as her ears folded back.

"Silence dog creature."

She was taken aback, quite literally, when it spoke, blinking as she stared at it incredulously. Its voice horrifically deep and statical.

"You can talk? You’ve been able to talk this whole time?!"

"Always have been. Now leave."

"Huh-"

"Leave. You’re not supposed to be here. I don’t want you here, your thoughts are too loud and disturbing my work. So shoo shoo, I’m busy."

MR stared up at her, its smiling face unable to show up its obvious glare of disdain and condescending contempt for her.

"You’re still here?"

"You act as if I want to be here."

"Then leave."

"Tell me how!"

"Don’t raise your voice at me, I have divine authority you’d only see on your glass screens."

Split let out a mocking snort.

"You? Divine authority? The most you can do is magic tricks."

The rock, now infuriated, glared at her shoulder, a small flame appearing on her clothing as it did as she let out a yelp and immediately pat it out.

"Apologize and I’ll consider not breaking your limbs. At least not all of them."

"I’m not apologizing to an oversized geode! Especially not one who set me on fire!"

MR was about to set her ablaze entirely, turning her into a blackened banana before a moment of malicious remembrance crossed its mind as it hummed in response. Physical torment lasted long, yes. But anyone could recover from it. Even the most vicious wounds of attacks can be healed, even if they left scars, they still healed.

Emotional and mental torment however... Those were difficult to conquer. Even the strongest of men can crumble at the feet of a weak mind. The detrimental effects that it can leave behind are sickening. The way it can drive people mad and take drastic measures to make it stop. It was too perfect of an idea for the rock to let go. It had used it many times in the past on specific victims, especially its current one.

Besides, it'd be killing two birds with one stone...

"Your friend."

"I have a lot of friends."

"The hairy one."

"I have a lot hairy friends."

"The detective."

"Bive?"

"You two are close, no?"

"Duh! She’s-"

"You care and love her don’t you?"

"Love is such a… strong word? I adore her! But of course I care about her!"

"Interesting. How is it you tell her of your life and she never responds with similar information?"

"She’s probably just had a bad childhood? Wait a minute how do you kno-"

"How do you sympathize with a freak such as her?"

Split’s expression hardened, but before she could jump on the defence, it continued.

"You know she’s a a failure right?

"A mistake."

"She’s not even supposed to exist."

The fruit-taur snarled at it, a spark of fury slowly growing into a bonfire.

"Now listen here you-!"

"What is your goal?"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Is it to be her rock?"

"Is it to be her white knight in glistening armour?"

"To fix her?"

"You’re wasting precious energy on her.. You can’t fix a vase that’s been shattered in to millions of pieces. You can’t fix a broken record. You can’t fix her."

"This isn’t about fixing her! Shut up! You’re just trying to trick me!"

"Au contraire. I’m just trying to enlighten you of your situation. After all we’ve both had someone we care for."

"Well, you still have that someone…"

Despite her fury, a small twinge of confusion nagged her.

Perfect…

"I had someone. I cared for their every need. When they were hungry, I was the first to feed them. When they were thirsty, I always brought them enough water to last them throughout the day. The others? They saw them as an experiment. An analysis. Something to simply studied. Me? I treated them as if they were my own child."

Split felt the anger in her begin dying down as she listened on. For once, she felt… bad for the rock.

“I taught them to walk, to speak. Countless nights I would lay awake for them when they were ill. Whenever it stormed, they were afraid of the thunder, so I would stay by their side to help to rest. To bring them comfort.."

As cruel as the stone was, it sounded like an excellent paternal figure. She never knew it had such loyalty and affection in it. Perhaps something changed it?

"I did everything for them. I would’ve given my life for them. And you know what they did?"

"What?"

"They stabbed me in the back. They left me when I needed them most. I returned to find them gone and my life’s work with them. I loved them and they abandoned me as if I were garbage. Do you know, how painful it is, to care for someone as if they were your successor, your own blood… just to have them turn their back on you..? It’s worse than any physical wound imaginable…"

The fruit-taur couldn’t help but sympathize with it. Clearly it was hurt, hurt beyond imagination. It had gave and gave and gave, only for its affection to never be reciprocated. Whoever did this to MR had turned it into what it was now, a bitter and broken mess. Who could do such an awful thing?!

As if it could read her thoughts, it spoke up.

"You know them too."

"I do..?"

"Yes. You give them the same amount of love and attention as I once did. You treat them with respect and kindness while others turn their back on them, as they rightfully should."

Split stared at it for a moment, surely it didn’t mean..? No! That’s impossible… Right?

"You’re not talking about..?"

"Your little detective friend? Unfortunately, I am…"

She felt her heart drop. No. That couldn’t be true! It had to be lying! Yeah. That’s right! It’s lying. She would never do such a thing. Sure she wasn’t always the most morally correct person, but to do that?! That’s too far. Not even Gnarpy was that cruel, and xe threatened everyone! Even Fleshcousin! But there was still sense of doubt that whispered in her head, its voice quiet yet loud enough to be heard.

`What if it’s not lying..?`

"Hard to believe isn’t it? I assume you have no intent on locating her now do you?"

"What..?"

"She’s here you know?"

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"… Can I talk to her?"

"I guess so. Continue going forward in the direction you were originally going. You’ll find her eventually."

Spilt looked behind her, tilting her head slightly.

"That’s all? She’s th-"

She turned back towards the stone, a quiet ‘oh’ escaping her mouth as she realized it was gone. How does a rock move that fast? Does it have legs or something? That’s a funny idea- Wait no no! She needed to get answers. No distractions.

She sighed as she continued forward, the questions that whirled in her head made her feel ill.

Is she actually the reason MR was who it was now? Did she actually break its heart? Why didn’t she tell her this earlier? Was she trying to hide her true self? Was she even who she thought she was?

The more Split thought, the more distraught she became. She was starting to believe that everything she knew about Bive, everything she cared for, everything she adored about her was a flat out lie. How stupid could she be? How naive was she?! She thought she finally found someone she could connect with, to spend time with, to love even.

Then the truth came and proved it all to a sick and twisted fantasy.

Eventually, she came across the paranoid detective. She seemed distressed, like usual but it seemed much more intense. Like she was expecting something. Like she was in immense danger. She seemed more jittery than ever.

As Split got closer, Bive soon took notice of her, seeming to calm down a little, a small grin even appearing on her face. However as she saw the hardened expression on the fruit-taur’s face, she tensed up once more, her grin slowly disappearing as she got closer.

"Split..?"

She paused a few feet in front of her, staring down at the detective before sighing. Bive tilted her head as she tried to read her face, why’d she look so upset? Did something happen

"Why?”

"Why what?"

"Why’d you do that to it?"

"Do what to who?"

"You know what I’m talking about!"

"Well, to be honest I really don’t."

Split bit back a harsh retort, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Why’d you just… abandon MR?"

Bive was completely taken aback. Firstly, how’d she even find out about her history with the stone. Secondly, who told her she abandoned her?! She never abandoned anyone! If anything she was abandoned! Well not really but that’s not the point!

"Aha… What?"

"Bive please tell me it’s a lie."

"You don’t believe it right? You don’t actually believe that do you?!"

"The more I think about it, the more believable it sounds!"

"It’s all a lie, I promise! Who even told you this? It’s obvious they’re trying to distract you from the real threat such as the clowns and snow so-"

"ENOUGH WITH YOUR CONSPIRACY THEORIES! STOP TRYING TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT!"

Bive was taken aback. Never had she heard Split so upset, and especially never at her. It hurt. It hurt a lot actually. Did she even know the actual story? Who tricked her like this?!

She tried to stammer out a response before Split just responded with a frustrated growl.

"Please just tell me the truth. Did you leave? Yes or no?!"

"It’s a much more complicated answer than that! That’s not fair!"

"So you do know it?!"

"Well! I didn’t say that!"

"Then what are you saying?!"

"That our connections are more complicated than that!"

"That sounds like you’re trying to tiptoe around the fact that you know MR."

"I- Well-! Just please!"

She watched as the fruit-taur sighed, turning her head to the side as she used her hand to rub the temples above her forehead.

"I may know it just a bit but-"

"But..?"

"I didn’t abandon it! I just left!"

"That does not make it sound any better…"

"Well I just-"

"We just aren’t on the best of terms because of previous events!.."

"I wonder why.."

It was like every answer that came out of her mouth wasn’t the right one. At this point Bive was beginning to panic. Apart from Split she had virtually no one else. Scratch that, she HAD no one else. Everyone else didn’t listen to her, they found her insane, they thought her truths were lies. She couldn’t lose Split, the mere thought of it scared her more than anything else.

"Look I dunno what they told you but it’s not true please! I promise!"

"It’s getting harder to believe you…"

Bive watched as Split took a step back, her panic growing into pure terror as she noticed the stone that had materialized beside her. Of course. Why hadn’t she realize it sooner? That dumb rock was the reason Split didn’t trust her, it was the reason she didn’t believe her. It lied to her and got her on its side. She hated MR, it was lying, cheating, skank that fed off of suffering.

But so far, it seemed as if it was winning this battle..

"Split, please! You can possibly believe it can you?! You-You don’t actually… Right?… RIGHT?!"

Split only stared at her, too upset to think of a response. The agonizing 'reality' had set in that the detective she once loved was a two-faced traitor. It hurt her too much to even think of it as she fought back tears.

The stone looked towards her, despite the permanent smile that graced its face, it seemed express some sort of empathy towards the fruit-taur. As if it knew how she felt, as if it had once been in her place.

It let out a quiet hum, signalling for Split to go of which she did without hesitation. Her paws heavy as she left the two alone…

Bive could only watch as she left, her own feet stuck in place, her mouth too dry to let out a pleading ‘stay’. Before she knew it, she was gone. Where? She had no idea, but she had disappeared past the horizon and could no longer be seen. She turned to the stone, watching as it gave her its sickening and mocking grin. How could something be so cruel? How could something be so vile?! How could something be so… cruel?

A wave of pure hatred and grief washed over her, the stone knew it too. It felt it coursing through her body, and it relished it. It fed off of such negativity, and right now? She was a gold mine…

"You… You stupid-! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

The rock didn’t answer, just stared… Just stared as tears streamed down her face, just stared as she trembled with mental agony, just stared as she glowered at it with pure unfiltered hatred.

"WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?! WHY DO YOU FOLLOW ME?!"

Her breathing was heavy and irregular as the stone answered her with a command.

"Drown… Let your suffering be the waves that kill you…"

The ground beneath her seemed to liquify as she fell straight through it, letting out a yelp as she splashed into the inky 'sea' beneath her. She had tried to swim back to the surface, despite her poor abilities, but it was futile as some sort of thin layer of invisible 'glass' blocked her escape. She held what little breath she had as she pushed at it.

She could see MR staring down at her, staring at her as she tried to break through. It’s mocking grin still gracing its face. It knew it had won but it wouldn’t indulge in its victory until it saw the realization in the detective’s eyes. Until it saw her realize she had lost.

She kicked and punched and clawed and scraped at the layer, fighting to escape as her lungs pleaded for air. Her chest felt as if it were on fire as she continued, her movements becoming weaker

Split would awaken from her sleep before groggily looking around. She was back in reality, back in the maze, back with her… Split looked down at the sleeping detective, a wave of guilty disgust washing over her as she realized she was leaning against her.

Bive felt herself getting tired, her limbs began aching as her actions became weaker and weaker

The fruit-taur nudged her off, not enough to wake her up to prevent an awkward and painful conversation.

The detective’s movements became slower before eventually stopping. Her body tired and aching as her chest continued to burn…

Split let out a sigh, getting up as she gathered her own belongings, despite not being much, and began leaving.

She gave the stone a glance, the sudden realization of defeat hitting her as she began to slowly sink. The 'water' was cold yet oddly comforting in a way, it quelled the fire in her chest. Bive couldn’t help but feel relaxed in its waves..

She avoided thumbtacks and coffee cups as she made her way out of Bive’s corner of the maze. Meeting Fleshy by pure coincidence due to accidentally bumping into it.

Her vision began to blur and her mind began to cloud. Bubbles escaping her mouth as she continued to sink down into the dark abyss.

Fleshy escorted her out of the maze, babbling random nonsense as it usually did while remaining upbeat and optimistic, not picking up her solemn attitude.

For once she felt at peace, no more running, no more fearing, just peace.. It was a nice feeling. The light around her had began to dim as she sank deeper and deeper.

She waved a polite goodbye to the fleshcousin as she made her way back to the elevator, pressing its button as she waited patiently.

She eventually hit the bottom, the light dim as she laid on the sand-like ground. The aching in her body had stopped. The fire in the chest had been quelled. All that was left was for her to close her weary eyes…

She heard the familiar and welcome ding of the elevator, her floppy ears lifting as she stepped into it. Mark and Wallter were there but paid no attention to her as they argued over wood and concrete. She placed a coin in the elevator’s slot and selected Splitsville. She needed some time to herself for now…

WOWOWOWOWOWOW HOPE I DIDNT MAKE YOU CRINGE BECAUSE I CERTAINLY DID WHILE WRITING THIS

Anyway I hope you enjoyed the Four Part Spive Angst series! I did enjoy writing it for the most part and I’m glad you all like it

ALSO SILLY AXOSUN USERS

Plus my #1 Fan (They get their own section because of how COOL and AWESOME and NICE (evil) AND KIND (mean) THEY ARE!!!!!!

I WILL STILL BE WRITING MAYBE FLUFF MAYBE ANGST MAYBE HURT AND COMFORT IDK YET (A different server is demanding Spive fluff from me) SO KEEP ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THAT RAHHHHHHHH

(I was listening to this while writing someone of this fanfic as well you should too)

[eddieheart]

MOTHER OF MONSTERS

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: NONE

Words: 594

Description: While searching for Dart, Dustin and Steve find the mother of monsters, Moreen.

Warning: I have never seen stranger things, yes I know, I’m terrible. I have seen some videos and read some fanfic, but I also have my amazing editor @buggylad, who has seen the show. So enjoy!

Voices could be heard, they echoed around, piercing through the nighttime fog. A light shown through the thin greenhouse walls. Moreen approached the light, the voices grew louder. She waited by the door.

"No I swear I saw him go this way! No it's a green house in the middle of the night who would be here." A soft voice whispered out.

The front door fell open and the intruders were face to face with Moreen. With her arms crossed she looked at the two boys.

Raising a brow she gave the boys a look of questioning.

"Oh, yeah umm... we were just... um looking for my-my pet! My pet, Dart. You haven't seen him have you? He's about yay big."

He mimed a box with his hands as the older boy put what seemed to be a weapon behind his back. The young boy followed suit trying and failing to hide the axe in his hands.

She shook her head no before backing up, Moreen could practically feel how restless they were getting. A sharp sound echoed through the greenhouse. Moreen now looked just as suspicious as the boys.

The screech ripped through the air startling all of them. The older boy stepped forward and quirked a brow, hand tightening on his weapon.

"What was that?" He motioned to the direction of the sound.

"Oh, that... that was my budgie, y'know parakeet. Loud little things aren't they?"

Glancing to the side she could see the creature stepping forward timidly. Waving her hand she tried to shoo it away from the boys but it surged forward to the shorter one. The older boy raised his baseball bat in fear.

"No Steve! Look it's Dart!" The small creature jumped into the boys arms. The older boy dropped his weapon with a sigh of relief, Moreen looked confused.

"You're not here to hurt them?" She asked softly.

"Hurt who? Dart? No way! He's like my best friend... besides you Steve." The younger boy said, nodding Moreen looked at the pair.

"Thanks so much for taking care of him and y'know... not killing him," The young boy chuckled. "I'm Dustin this is Steve."

"Moreen." She spoke calmly, leaning forward slightly.

"How exactly did you get... Dart?" She asked cautiously.

"I found him outside! I thought he was a lizard, until his mouth opened up and he ate my cat." Dustin spoke with his hands miming Dart's mouth opening.

"He ate your cat?" The boy nodded enthusiastically in return.

"Great, Dustin, Steve, Moreen, fantastic. What exactly do you mean by them?" The older man's eyes looked frantic, his hands waving wildly. Moreen's eyes widened and another shrill scream rang through the building.

"Oh my gosh." Steve said in a panic tone as he scrambled for a better grip on his bat.

She raised a hand in a pause motion towards the boy and turned half her body towards the creatures behind her. Demogorgons, demodogs,  demobats and others like Dart (demotadpoles) creeped out from behind the girl. The largest or the creatures was at least double Steve's height, making the young woman look puny in comparison.

Making and odd sound, (something akin to rolling your tongue like a cat purring but stoping intermittently like, brr brr brr), A demodog slowly stepped forward and brushed its head under her hand like a dog starved for attention.

The creature let out a groan, not opening its mouth fully. The two boys stumbled back, this tiny woman had a zoo of demo- creatures behind her.

"What the fuck?" Steve's jaw dropped.

Part 2

@buggylad

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Hey! A new wlw short story is up on my Patreon. Check it out! And please consider becoming a Patron for more wlw writing and more. As a struggling artist anything helps.

Here’s a free preview:

Headlights Girl

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the land, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they shrank away from my gaze deep into their cages into the nooks and crannies. Most things do.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness and sleep. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There have been stranger kids born in the age of spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for small articles and mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy with fire on his breath. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father calls it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He doesn’t look at me much. And I know what he means. I know what he means when he calls it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They could barely afford to send me to That School. I didn’t want to be there either.

We weren’t the same, not really. None of us are the same age and most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons under flat mattresses. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or have a pig-nose or blackhole for a nose. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he runs away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I’m 16 when I heel-toe my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with a collection of loose clothes, change, a bath towel, sewing kit, a bible written in a language I don’t speak, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he’s at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at Target and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There’s a beer in front of his idle hands and he glances at the bag on my shoulder.

He sighs like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafs through a wad of cash he kept in a safe in the garage. He hands me almost three hundred bucks and we nod at each other. I’m out the door before the midnight bus arrives.

I watch the headlights of the bus approach through dense summer night and think it must be like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I get on the bus and kick my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, I cross my arms over my chest, and watch the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet move like tides. They toss me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I taste the painted deserts toward the west. I dip my toes into the largest cities with lights brighter than my own. I graze my palms on neon signs and hunch my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touches me. They don’t come close enough when I open my eyes and they see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that will smite them.

I find my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gather. I don’t talk much, I don’t like to, and people stare at me whether I’m speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it aches. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’ve never seen a movie in any theatres, but I can imagine what it’s like.

I like the ocean cities best with their pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding white paths, and crushed seashell parking lots. I like the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkles from the ocean water as it sun-dries. I camp out on beaches and bum cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I’m good at taking care of myself once I get in a rhythm.

Sometimes, or often, I dream of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dream of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I am weighted down through the cold to where no human has ever been before. I open my eyes there, I open them all the way, lightning-bright, and in my dreams, the salt doesn’t sting. It doesn’t hurt, instead, I light up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I do something good then. Maybe I do something good and bring the sun to places that have forgotten it.

I meet Mags on the beach. She’s got one eye and five teeth and carries around string and scissors everywhere. She smells like seawater and roasting kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes are neat despite her leather-cracked skin and her arms and neck are covered with tattoos of shipwrecks. She cackles and pulls me aside the first night we meet.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is old creaking wood. I am quiet. “I could give you one.” She offers with a grin that is more empty space than anything.

I shake my head. “Nana.”

“What do you like, kid?”

I shake my head again.

Mags likes me more than I deserve. I pocket her last pair of socks when she’s not looking. She never mentions it and drags me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She takes me to the soup restaurant for something that isn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackles, she spits when she talks, people glare at her as well.

I think she’s normal, not touched by the spirits, but she likes me more than most people and I don’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snort. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snap.

“Lippy-wild thing. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heats the needle before she uses it, red hot and untouchable. She dips it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she calls them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin with color and movement. She shows me on her right foot first, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It takes her six hours to make a little shipwreck right above her big toe. It’s a schooner going under and I’m the only witness to the way she makes the waves come to life and crash against its sides. I can’t look away and I forget to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washes another needle. She heats it red-hot. She dips it in ink and hands it to me.

I practice all over my thighs first, there’s enough meat there and it’s easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looks like nothing but squiggles, a wobbly stick figure on a skateboard, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practice designs in the sand. Mags takes me to the museum on Sundays. They’re free on Sundays.

Something stirs in my chest, even as the guards yell at me about how flash photography isn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I’m shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rots roars to life in my chest.

I stab in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake next, and then finally, something good, something that gives people a reason to stare. I make it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than the others.

I don’t want to leave the ocean city. Mags says she has to keep moving though. She gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackles. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winks as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I want to make her pinky-promise like I’m a kid again and begging one of the other kids to tell me if I’m actually beautiful when I close my eyes. I can’t do that; I wave as she totters up the steps of the bus and is taken away with the tides of her own feet. ------------ I get an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked to them first and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but coach surfing and camping out on beaches is a tiring pastime. Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie run a tattoo shop together. Davies walks like he’s never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie has a throw-pillow that says “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies is nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie has topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’s been asked to leave a number of stores before the children start staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me, it’s not that type of town. I rankle at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. I brush off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie calls me “Shadow” and I think it’s a joke. Davies says I must be possessed by the ghost of a dead star and now I’m nothing but a blackhole: take everything in and let nothing out.

Neither of them lets me touch a needle in those first six months. They have me practice on pig skin and stand by their shoulder as they work. I feel like a dental assistant except I’m the hanging light above shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stand at their shoulder as they draw thick lines and thin dots and make hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They ask me to stop blinking and stand still. I almost walk out and find a new cliff to crash against, almost. No one had ever expected me to show up to something before. No one cared if I went to school or when I got home. And no one kept any tabs on me after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, it didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow.” She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I am eloquent in the morning.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want the desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

I grumble. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before. I tell myself I’ll just try it out, no harm in having a bit of a savings anyway. No harm in seeing what the fuss was about.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t let up though. I put on pants for this, after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder now.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, he had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me now as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “The line’s barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” He chuckled darkly. His grin is crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.

“Look at you go. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun before the new year. I tell myself I’ll only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I don’t have to actually stay. I’ll just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chases after girls with eyes that glow.

I don’t break my lease. I draw cartoon heroes in speedos on tipsy college girls who swear they’re sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I have to give two refunds for a duck that turns out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with nothing but doors ahead of her. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I’m best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It’s dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hide my smile when she goes to my bosses and points at it while jumping up and down. The best thing she’s ever seen. She should pay us double. Where did you get this girl? I try not to blink so they can’t see the wetness under my eyes.

Sometimes I still stand by the bus stop to check who’s coming off. I don’t expect to see Mags again so soon, but sometimes I want to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

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[idy-ll-ique]

Bollywood Hits.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Desi!F!Reader

Warnings: deals with racism

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Requested: Nope

Summary: Steve sees Y/N for the first time and instantly falls in love, finally getting the date he wanted 6 months after meeting her. When they go to a restaurant, though, things go downhill.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This one is for my desi readers lmao but everyone is allowed to read (pls do lol). Enjoy!

---

"Yeah, excuse me, one second—"

Bucky and Sam waved him off as Steve stepped into the balcony at Bucky's place, taking out his phone which was ringing. As he stood there talking to the person on the other end, his eyes landed on the balcony next-door. His phone nearly dropped from his hand, his eyes bulging, a shocked look on his face.

How come Bucky never told him his next-door neighbor was so pretty?

She was wearing headphones, singing along to the songs as she cleaned her balcony. Only, the songs she was singing weren't English. Judging by the accent and words, his best guess was Hindi. Her voice was angelic, and her looks further confirmed the fact. That woman was going to be the death of him.

"Rogers, Rogers, are you listening?!"

"Uh— yeah, sorry, you were saying?"

After the call ended, he went back inside and towered over Bucky, who was sitting on the couch and having beer with Sam. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve's stance; his arms were crossed and he had a glare on his face. "What did I do?" he drawled. "Who's your neighbor?" Bucky blinked.

"My nei— oh! On my right, Y/N. Why, what happened?" Steve groaned and plopped down next to his best mate, grabbing a bottle of beer for himself. "How come you never told me your neighbor was so hot?!" Bucky burst out laughing as Sam stood up, walking into the balcony to check for himself. His eyes, too, went wide and his jaw dropped.

Y/N, when she felt someone's stare on her, paused the music and turned to see an incredibly handsome, dark-skinned man staring at her, jaw dropped. Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze, turning away from him. No way. Why would someone look at her in that way? When she looked back up, no one was there.

She shrugged and continued working, resuming her favorite Bollywood Hits playlist. "Aye, aye Y/N!" Blinking, she looked up again and saw three men standing in the balcony. A white, blond haired man, the previous handsome dark-skinned man and her neighbor, Bucky Barnes.

"Hi Bucky, your friends?" she smiled at him, taking off the headphones. Steve's heart squeezed in his chest at her accent; God, she was breathtaking. "Yeah. Sam and Steve. Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N." Y/N snorted at that, coming over to rest her hands on the railing of her balcony. "How do you manage to get it right, always? Accent and everything."

"I try my best," he winked at her and she grinned. Bucky, ever since he had moved into the apartment, had shamelessly flirted with her. Y/N didn't like him back, but she got flustered at every single pick up line and Bucky found her endearing. Recently he had stopped but they still talked; he was now like her protective friend.

"How long have you been living in America?" Sam asked her, grinning. "A few years now," she answered, giving him a smile. "Where did you live before moving here?" Steve inquired. "I used to live in Mumbai," she grinned at him. "Nice, nice. Well, I see you're busy right now, how about we go back inside, boys?" Bucky clapped both men on the back and went inside.

Sam followed but Steve stayed where he was. "I heard you singing, you have a brilliant voice," he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you! I actually took lessons, back when I was in India," she laughed, picking up the headphones again as he followed his friends into the apartment.

What had just happened?

---

After that day, Steve's visits to Bucky's apartment became more and more frequent. He often bought gifts for her; tiny things, like her favorite Starbucks order (that he had learnt from Bucky) or flowers, like a true 40's gentleman. Bucky passed on the gifts to her, saying Steve left them at his place to pass them on to her.

Y/N always had the same question on her mind, why? Why would he bring her gifts? Bucky used to suggest that he liked her and wanted to take her out on a date, but Y/N never believed him. Why would Captain America, an American hero, a global sensation, want to take her out on a date?

6 months passed just like that; the boys were back at Bucky's apartment after a gruesome mission, chilling around and having beers. That's when they heard it. A loud shriek came from Y/N's apartment, followed by… more loud shrieks and smashing of glass kitchenware. Steve's blood ran cold; Y/N was in trouble and he needed to do something.

He abruptly stood up and ran out of the apartment, breaking into Y/N's with ease. He didn't expect what hit him, though; Y/N was crouched near the door, her knees pulled to her chest, seemingly cowering away from… nothing? "Steve!" Y/N sobbed when she saw him, immediately getting up and throwing herself into his willing, open arms.

"Y/N? Doll, what happened?" Steve whispered into her hair, rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. Bucky and Sam entered the apartment too, looking around for potential danger. "Th-There's a lizard in my apartment… I—" She gulped, trying to keep more tears at bay, "I have a phobia of liz-lizards, please get it out, please," she cried into his shoulder.

Steve didn't laugh. He simply held her close, looking around for the tiny reptile. Sam located it near the window and easily shoo-ed it out, Bucky cleaning the glass that was lying on the floor. Y/N probably dropped the plate in shock and fear. "Y/N, it's gone, you're fine," he smiled, making no move to get her out of his arms.

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked meekly, pulling away from him. She finally realized how close they were standing and blushed; she liked the man too, had liked him ever since Bucky suggested he was into her. Their lips were currently only inches apart. "Yep, I'm sure. Sam got it out of the apartment." An agreeing noise came from Sam and Y/N finally relaxed.

Bucky stepped into the sitting room after throwing away the glass pieces in the trash can that was in the kitchen. "Thank you so much, Bucky." Y/N looked at her neighbor with a smile. "Call me whenever those things bother again, okay? I'm always here for you." Steve watched as Bucky and Y/N shared a hug.

"Thank you for shoo-ing it out, Sam," Y/N said next, turning to his friend. They gave each other a hug, too. "No worries at all," he winked at her and Steve smiled when she blushed. She looked cute when she was flustered. "And finally, thank you Captain America for… keeping me safe," she breathed out, her breath hitching when she turned to her crush.

"Oh, no problem at all!"

Bucky and Sam left the apartment, leaving the two with their obvious tension. "Listen, um, I was wondering… would you like to get dinner sometime? There's a diner nearby, Bucky's friend works there…" "I'd love to get dinner with you." Expecting a hug, she was pleasantly surprised when he leaned in and gave her a sweet peck on the lips.

They shared numbers and Steve left the apartment with a huge grin on his face.

He was finally getting the date he had wanted for 6 months.

---

"Steve!"

He looked up, grinning when he saw Y/N making her way towards him, dressed in a magnificent red dress. "Doll, you look wonderful," he commented, bringing her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek to not spoil her makeup, and Y/N giggled at that. "Shall we?" Y/N nodded and the two people entered the diner.

Almost everyone looked up at them, their eyes going wide when they saw Steve. Then their eyes immediately narrowed at Y/N, because who was she? Surely Captain America was not dating an immigrant? Y/N's brows furrowed and she unconsciously shifted closer to Steve, who hadn't noticed anything.

"Hi, I'm Adam, your server for the day. What would you like to order?" Steve and Y/N went over the menu and Steve gave his order first. Y/N's voice cracked slightly when she noticed how Adam grimaced at her accent. She had made no point of getting a fake American accent, since she loved her desi one so much.

"Will that be all?" Adam turned to Steve, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, thanks." Adam went away and Y/N's eyes followed his form. He went back to his friends and talked to them in hushed whispers, which made them all giggle quietly and sneer. Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest, her fear unbeknown to Steve.

Then suddenly, she noticed a young East Asian lady in the bunch who was frowning at the others. Her gaze caught Y/N's and she gave her a small, apologetic smile, nodding her head towards the white people that were talking shit about her. She reluctantly returned a smile; at least she wasn't the only person of colour around.

"Y/N!"

Startled, Y/N turned to see Steve blinking at her. "Hm?" she cleared her throat, giving him a grin. "Is something the matter? I called your name three times and you weren't listening…" Oh God, was this date too boring for her? Should he have done something else? "Sorry, sorry, just lost… what's up?"

They maintained a light-hearted conversation as they waited for the food to arrive. Surprisingly, it was the East Asian woman who brought them their orders. "Hi, I'm Leah, I'm replacing Adam. Here are your dishes." Leah placed the food in front of them. "What happened to Adam?" Steve asked curiously.

Y/N tensed up. "Um, does that really matter? Thank you so much Leah, that will be all for now." Y/N briefly closed her eyes as Leah sympathetically patted her on the shoulder, going away. "Y/N, is something the matter? You've kinda been on the edge ever since we walked into the diner," Steve asked finally.

"You wouldn't get it," Y/N muttered, prodding her food. "What? Try me, tell me, please," he insisted, eyes going wide when Y/N's filled with tears. "Just eat your food, Steve." Heartbroken, Steve only watched as Y/N gulped down her food through the tears.

Leah was watching the couple and she sighed when she saw Y/N crying. Wiping her hands on her apron she walked up to the couple and stood next to them. Y/N didn't look up, but she could tell it was her. "Is everything okay?" Steve asked her, now getting irritated. "I know what happened to her, sir."

Steve blinked. "What is it?" he asked, desperate for answers. "I replaced Adam because he was being a racist jerk. Everyone working here, in fact, is looking at you two weird. You can't help but notice the stares, speaking as a POC. You wouldn't get it, Mr Rogers, you're the pinnacle of America, a blond, white man. We have it rough."

He turned to see Y/N desperately hiding her tears as she tried (and failed) to choke down the food. "My coworkers were talking about you two. Why would Captain America want to go out with an immigrant? Why doesn't he settle for a nice, white lady, that's more his type. I'm sorry about that," Leah spoke quietly, toying with her hands.

Steve's entire being filled with rage like he had never felt before. He pushed himself off the table and stormed past Leah, who sat next to Y/N and tried to console her. Y/N's tears ceased when the palm of Steve's hand connected hard with Adam's cheek. Everyone in the diner froze. "How dare you," Steve breathed out.

Adam clutched his cheek, paralyzed with fear. "How dare you talk about my date like that? Who I like or hate is none of your business. Not any of your business!" He yelled the last line. "If I ever, ever catch you talking about my love life again, any of you, you'll be sorry you were ever born!" With that, Steve returned to his table.

Pulling out his wallet, he paid for his untouched and Y/N's half-eaten food, handing the money to Leah with a smile. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, helping Y/N into her coat. "No worries, sir. You two make a cute couple," Leah chuckled, waving as the two walked out of the diner. Y/N, as soon as they were outside, threw herself in Steve's arms.

"I'm sorry for ruining our date," she mumbled into his neck as his arms went around her waist, bringing her close. "You didn't ruin anything, doll. How about next time, we meet at my place and order takeout?" he suggested, pulling away and wiping Y/N's face with his fingers. "I'd like that a lot."

"Let me drop you home, come on." With a soft kiss placed on her forehead, the two walked back to her apartment building hand-in-hand.

---

A/N: Leave a like you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[effiethebookworm]

TSE Appreciation Week Day Six

Hi. It is Day Six. No exclamation marks today, for the week is over and it is a sad occasion. I hope you like it. Also, I noticed that I accidently titled yesterday’s post “Day Four” when it’s supposed to be “Day Five.” Oops. 

Enjoy.

Laura Hollingsworth sat down at her computer, fingertips poised over the keyboard. She heard a whine from under her chair, and looked down to see a fluffy dog staring back at her.

“No distractions, Gwladys. Now that the Hiatus Secundus is finally over, I'm writing the script for Chapter 21.”

Gwladys whined again, and Laura gave her a treat.

“Now go sleep or kill a lizard or something. I'm busy.” She gave the dog a little scratch behind the ears, and firmly patted her on the rump.

“Shoo.”

Gwladys left the room. Laura turned back to her keyboard. She yawned, and looked at the clock.

“My, it's a late to be writing, but I want this finished today. I guess I'll just sleep in a bit tomorrow.” she said to no one in particular. She took a drink of water, and began to write.

CHAPTER 21

CLIMB

APEN: *Looks up at Ayran, shocked * Ayran Greenway? Fabled Nedarian architect and designer of Greenway?

AYRAN: *Carswell Thorne grin * The very one.

BERLYNE: *is not impressed * What are you doing here, Mister Greenway, and where is “here” anyway?

AYRAN: We are in an old city that I made centuries ago. It's quite embarrassing, really. Looking at the stuff I made ages ago.. *cringes * Ugh.

JOE, CHARA, AND MARCUS: *run into the room *

JOE: *sees Berlyne and Apen on the floor and rushes over to check on them*

CHARA: Berlyne! Apen! Where have you been all night? We were so worried about you.

MELLY: *runs over and licks Apen's face *

APEN: Melly! You're all right! Thank heaven.

BERLYNE: We went wandering and got lost. Then, *glares at Ayran * this man attacked Apen, so I stabbed him. *is pleased *

CHARA: *is disturbed * BERLYNE, what have I told you about stabbing people?

BERLYNE: *is unremorseful *

JOE: *walks up to Ayran * I don't appreciate you attackin' my so- er- daughter's boyfr- er-- the person to which I am a father figure.

AYRAN: Oh, yeah, buddy? What'cha gon' do 'bout that?

JOE: Nothing, because I am a pacifist. But I will glare at you. *glares at Ayran *

MARCUS: Oh no! Not the glare!

APEN AND CHARA: The glare!!!

BERLYNE: What. The what. Is going on.

AYRAN AND JOE: *have a staring contest *

*music begins to play. Cut to Marcus playing the Jaws theme on the violin he was playing last chapter *

AYRAN: *blinks *  No!!! I have been vanquished!

JOE: Heck yeah ya have! *begins to dance the Cotton Eyed Joe *

MARCUS: *begins to play the Cotton Eyed Joe *

BERLYNE: Daddy? Um- are you alright? CHARA: It's his victory dance, Berlyne. You've lived with him for nineteen years, you know this.

MARCUS: Yeah, Berlyne, even I know that! * continues to play Cotton Eyed Joe, but joins in the dancing.

AYRAN: *is sulking in corner *

BERLYNE: Marcus. You can't play the violin and talk, much less dance. This is impossible, what is going on?

MARCUS: *kindly, like speaking to a very stupid small child* *still playing and dancing* Berlyne, Berlyne, Berlyne. You lowly little mortal. You have hardly seen my powers at work.

BERLYNE: W- Excuse me? MARCUS: You all thought that I was Marcus, a little hipster librarian. No. That form is past me now. I will now show you who I really am.

*a bright light flashes, and a shirtless faun with a red scarf stands in Marcus' place *

MARCUS: That's right. I am Mr. Tumnus!

BERLYNE: I am so confused.  *turns to Apen* Apen, what is going on?

APEN: *is with Chara, over next to Mr. Tumnus. He is making :baby_apen: face.*

APEN AND CHARA: *in unison *  MR TUMNUS?!?! MARCUS: Yes, my children. I am.

BERLYNE: *:shooketh * I AM SO DARN CONFUSED.

IDONY: *enters * What's going on?

MARCUS: Ah, my love. I have shown my true form. Maybe it is time for yours.

BERLYNE: what

IDONY: *sailor moon transformation sequence *  *becomes casserole lady from Velv's trial *  Yes, and I am Casserole Lady!

AYRAN: *horrified * NO! NOT CASSEROLE LADY! *falls over *

BERLYNE *checks pulse * Okay, he's dead. Guys, this is really weird.

EVERYONE – BERLYNE: No it's not!

BERLYNE: AH! I got it! This is a dream, right?

EVERYONE- BERLYNE: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

*the scene goes black *

END.

“Ah!” Laura awoke with a start. She squinted at her surroundings. She was in front of her computer.

“Wow, that was a crazy dream. I must have fallen asleep while writing.” She moved the computer mouse a bit, waking up the screen.

CHAPTER 21

CLIMB

APEN: *Looks up at Ayran, shocked * Ayran Greenway? Fabled Nedarian architect and designer of Greenway?

AYRAN: *Carswell Thorne grin * The very one.

BERLYNE: *is not impressed * What are you doing here, Mister Greenway, and where is “here” anyway?

AYRAN: We are in an old cit

“Huh, I fell asleep mid-sentence. I must have been exhausted.” She turned off her computer and went to bed.

THE END

[arkdsmp]

Chapter two: The undying

Warnings: implied vore, implied fatal vore, fear, angst, blood, death, cursing. Note: Any and all deaths in this series are not permanent Wilbur’s POV: 

Wilbur ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding. He only stopped when he heard Tommy’s fearful scream. That’s when he hid in the bushes and watched.... He watched his best friend- no, his brother be eaten alive by that monstrous bird. Tears welled in Wilbur’s eyes, he wanted to scream and shout, but he couldn’t risk giving away his position. He was alone now, and had to survive on his own.... Tommy would’ve wanted him to keep going. He turned back towards the forest and ran, briefly blinded by his own tears. He’d been running for a while, when his legs buckled underneath him. He yelped as he hit the dirt, groaning in pain. He must’ve landed on a sharp rock, because his leg was now bleeding heavily. Wilbur pressed a hand to his wound, feeling the hot blood spread quickly. “ Fuck... “ He got himself up slowly, limping over to a tree and leaning on it. Now Wilbur would hear the chitters of a group of small reptilians in the forest. They approached him curiously. “ Shoo, go on now- “ He tried to gently push them away, but they refused to budge. He noticed little feathers on the top of the creature’s heads. Some were blue, others red, and there was even purple feathers. “ Well, you lot are cute- Think you could help me find some water? “ He asked the creatures. His throat was dry, so water sounded really nice right now. Something rustled in the bushes. The little creatures turned and fled, chittering as they went. Fuck, Wilbur thought. Has some predator come to finish me off? Boy, he hoped he was wrong. Suddenly a large reptile burst out of the brush, letting out a monstrous roar. It’s back was lightly furred. The beast looked at Wilbur hungrily with heterochromic eyes, one brown and one blue. Wilbur didn’t have the strength or energy to run. He knew this would be his end. That’s when something... no, someone, rushed out with a spear in their hands. “ Back off. you overgrown lizard! “ They yelled. That voice.... It was so familiar. Wilbur’s vision was blurred from his tears, so he couldn’t see who it was. The dinosaur growled before backing away slowly, it clearly knew what that spear could do to it. “ That’s right! Get! “ The person said, thrusting the spear towards the dinosaur, which hissed in response and ran off. Wilbur collapsed, he was bleeding too much. “ Wilbur “ he heard the person say. He looked up at them, managing to get a good look at them. “ Tommy? How-.... How are you alive? “ Wil rasped. “ I’m not sure- I was swallowed by that bird, then I blacked out. When I woke up, I was here again. “ The boy explained. Wilbur smiled, before his own vision faded. Before he went fully unconscious, he heard Tommy cry out to him. “ Wilbur!? WIL!? GET UP BIG MAN! “ Haha so this took forever, and it isn’t as long as the first one-  I’ll try to write more often

[loz-and-lu-fan-blog]

Memories of a Kokiri

Link earlier memories aren’t from the forest he grew up in, they aren’t with the little fairy Navi that might as well be his mother; no they are of Saria and Mido, at the orphanage they call home.

Link never remembers how he got there, his parents, his life before then was all a mystery to him. His first memory was of the nice man who ran the orphanage; the man who handed him food every day. He remembers how Saria looked before, she had deep brown hair that always seemed to get tangled, it's why she had cut it so short. Mido was the ‘bully’ in the orphanage, Link however thought it was because he was hungry, like so many others in this weird house.

The nice man that fed him made the children learn ‘skills’ as he calls them, learning how to make fire, making shelters, working with animals; the nice man said it would help them get adopted. One girl, who called herself Hila, told Link there wasn’t a point, that a family would never adopt any of them, especially after the war.

Link should have known something was up when the weird lady showed up to talk to the nice man. Something about the lady rubbed Link the wrong way, maybe it was that her eyes were slightly too far apart, or how her teeth look slightly too sharp. He should have known by the way the nice man reacted to her talk, the way his eyes held such fear but was trying to hide it behind a big reassuring smile. The nice man was worried about something but he never told any of the children.

Link remembers the day their life changed very clearly, the day they all became Kokiris.

It had been sometime in the afternoon when the nice man said he wanted to take the children to a special place to play and that they should grab any toys they wanted to bring. Link opted for a bag of pretty much everything he owned, the young boy never liked to leave it behind, before the large group of children got ready to leave. However before they left the nice man tied some very long strips of rope around the children, Link had to guess it was probably the length of the weird place they called home. Link faces must had confusion written all over it because the nice man explained.

“I don’t want you guys to get lost, it’s dangerous to get lost in the woods” He said with that force smile.

Link didn’t like the nice man’s worried look but Saria and the other children seemed to be fine with it so the young boy followed as well. 

To which they began their walk into the woods.

They walked and walked for a long time to the point each step filled Link with dread. Link wished he knew why the forest filled him with the horrible feeling but he could shake it. He went as far as taking a shell necklace, that must have been given to him by his parents, and breaking it and dropping it as he walked.

Finally they got to a clearing in the woods, a little grove with a stream cutting through it.

“Alright go play” The nice man said unroping most of the rope that he tied to his arm for the walk. Almost all the children took the order and began to run around, picking up the little frogs or playing in the water.

But not Link.

Link stood by the nice man's side, only ever looking at him when he asked why Link wasn’t playing. Link couldn’t shake the feeling he was having, he had it all the way of the walk and coming to the grove only seemed to make it worse. It felt like the time the big mean dog came to their house and just barked and glared at them, however there was no big mean dog, at least from what Link could see.

Saria must had noticed Link standing alone before grabbing the young boy and physically dragging him away from the nice man. They played by the water picking flowers, Link would often look up to see the nice man who always replied with a wave. Eventually Link got lost weaving the water flowers into Saria’s brown hair, ignoring Mido grumbles of wanting Link to play with him. Finally Link was finished with his flower crown and turned to the nice man to see his reaction to his creation.

But the nice man was gone.

Link let out a cry which seemed to alert the other children as well. The young boy ran down the path he had known they had taken to get here. The nice man had to have just walked away for a minute, or look for a snack! He always told them how dangerous the woods were when you were alone, he wouldn’t leave them alone! He was nice!

Link felt a jerk back, as he looked back he realized what happened. He...They were tied to a tree.

Link ran back to  his bag to take out a knife, something that was left to him by his parents. To which he slowly began trying to cut the ropes off the tree, not any easy task given his short nature. By the time all the children were free the sky had been painted with the colors that ment night was coming. Soon the children began to bicker, do they try to leave the forest following the path they took, or do they wait it out and walk in the morning.

It involved into a big argument, Mido went as far as to shove Link down. Saria finally yelled at the group of bickering children, opting for the idea of spending the night in the forest. Link and the other children, while not liking the idea, helped the best they could; some finding the edible berries they had read about while Link worked to build a roaring campfire.

By the time the sky was blanketed in darkness the group of children had a fire going and were eating some edible berries and plants for their dinner. Some of them were eating less than others but that's what they had to do.

Link couldn’t understand why but he felt that something was watching them, he was the one who voiced they stayed together after all. He still expected to see a big scary dog jump out at them, yet he heard no growling...it unnerved him. 

“I need to pee” a little boy, Zazo, stated.

“Well, go on then,” Mido said with annoyance in his voice. Zazo started to get up off the ground.

“No!” Link yelled standing up “Something out there, dangerous” screamed in his broken speech.

“Shut it Mr nobody!” Mido screamed at him which Link responded with his tongue sticking out. Saria seemed done by their actions.

“Link if it bugs you so much you can go look after Zazo” Saria states as Links nods and follows the other boy. They weren’t trying to go so deep into the woods, when they weren’t far enough to not see the light of the campfire anymore Link forced the other boy to stop.

Zazo just seemed to scoff at Link and gave Link a shooing motion to at least get some privacy. The younger boy gave an eye roll back and turned around to look towards the campfire. Link tried to shake his scared feeling by looking around at the rushing of the leaves or the dancing fireflies. It wasn’t until he heard some snapping of branches and the whimpres of Zazo that snapped Link to reality. The young child immediately turned around and ran to help his fellow friend.

Then he saw the creature.

Zazo was pinned by a giant creature, it had to at least be the size of the nice man. The giant creature reminded Link of the small lizards they would catch, considering it’s body was covered in scales. It had a pair of wings and long scaly tail; as well as long claws and teeth. The creature’s weirds legs supported it’s body as a clawed hand pinned the boy’s head, the creature's face was close to Zazo with a fanged smile. Zazo just whimpered under the creature’s grip, too scared to scream.

Link finally snapped out of his shock before realizing he needed to do something. The creature was to focus on Zazo to even notice Link had appeared. 

Link grabbed his knife running up to slash the creature’s chest; it let out a scream and releashed the shaking child. Link immediately grabbed Zazo while the beast was distracted and ran, just ran.

Until finally they were back at the campfire.

“Guys what’s wrong?” Saria asked the shaken boys that ran back to the campfire.

“Monster!! Monster out there!” Link cried out before going up to Saria and pulling on her arm “We need to go! Go!”

“Stop!!” Mido said pulling Link off Saria and shoving him down.

“Mido enough!” Saria screamed as she helped Link off the ground. Saria soon turned to the other boy.

“Zazo what happened? Was it a monster?” Saria asked the boy.

Link watched as Zazo stared down at his feet before looking around the group, the boy's eyes finally stopping on Mido. Link ignored the sheering that Mido gave him but something in his mind chilled when he saw Mido turned to Zazo and gave him a look before pointing a thumb at Link and laughing. Finally Zazo seemed to look up to face Saria.

“No..there was no monster” Zazo said in a shaky tone “I don’t know what Link is talking about” 

Zazo looked towards Mido with a smile as Mido said something positive before making fun of Link. However Link couldn’t stand this, was Zazo going to risk their safety for Mido’s approval?

“LIAR!!” Link cried out as he made a move to run over to the boy, only to be stopped by Saria “You saw! You saw!”

Saria immediately tried to pull Link into her arms to comfort him, and when he broke free of that, Hila, Lote, Vetho and Kiroi came over to hold his hands and try to calm him down. 

It didn’t help Link, he knew what he saw, that creature had to be the eyes watching them, it had to be! And they wanted to stay in the woods while that sharp creature was still running around. Why couldn’t they be in their weird home, with the nice man that fed them?!

“What’s wrong with the baby?” Mido had said making it very clear he was talking about Link. Something inside Link snapped and as he freed himself from the others grip, he tackled Mido to the ground throwing punches to any spot they could land.

“Your fault! Your fault!” Link screamed as he threw punches, if Mido wasn’t such a bully, if Zazo didn’t look up to him; they would all be safe.They would all be safe. Finally hands wrapped around Link pulling him off Mido, some of the boys stopping Mido from retaliating and attacking Link. 

“Enough!!” Saria screamed, putting herself between the two boys “You guys need to stop!”

“I’ve had enough of him!!” Mido screamed as he pointed a finger in Link’s face “If you can’t deal with staying in the forest then leave!”

“Fine…” Link said breaking away from the kids holding him back. He went to his bag trying to pack his knife and other stuff. Mido and the other boys grumbled at the idea and some of the other children seemed to follow Link.

“Link you can’t go alone, you said it yourself it’s too dangerous to go alone” Saria stated holding onto Link to try to stop him from going off in the night.

“He wouldn’t be alone” Vetho said as some of the others girls nodded “He’s is safer, has skills”

Link couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed a piece of wood to light it on fire making himself and the girls a torch for the dark night. Link grabbed onto Saria’s arm trying to pull her to come with him, however Saria pulled back.

“I need to stay here and make sure Mido and everyone else is safe; we’ll see you in the morning” Saria said with a smile as Mido smirked from behind her. Link felt dread fill up his body, he knew what he saw and if Saria didn’t follow him..what would happen? However Link could feel the eyes of the creatures on him, he felt like the snaps of the branches weren’t just the wind. 

Link allowed some tears to fall before taking out a wooden instrument that had been left with him when he had been dropped at the house. He shoved it into Saria’s arm with a quick bye and turned back to the path; off white seashells almost seemed to glow under the fire of his torch.

To which Link and his little group began to walk.

The group walked in a slow past, the girls grabbing each other's hands as well as Links. Normally Link’s first instinct would be to run as fast as he could and dragged the girls with him, but he knew better, one Hila was a lot smaller and couldn’t run as fast and two if that creature were hunting them, they would take notice of the fast moving children. Just like that mean dog when it bite him.

“Link!” a voiced cried out, causing the group of kids to stop. They turned to see Dedu running up to him, his face stained with tears.

“Monster! Heard sounds! Ziru was with me, it got her!” Dedu cried to Link as he tried to grab the boy's tunic. Link and the girls were trying to get the boy to calm down. “Oh the way here, heard screams” the boy cried out.

The group finally got the boy to stop freaking out and to take a breath. It didn’t last long before another creature landed behind the boy, causing the children to scream. The creature immediately grabbed Dedu who screamed and thrashed at being held in the air. Link took his torch and stuck the fire to the creature’s skin.

The creature let out a scream and grabbed the boy closer with it’s sharp claws before spreading its wings and flying up into the air. Leaving a confused Link and a group of scared girls. Dedu was taken by the creature, the children watched in shock. The girls were freaking out as Link tried his best to calm down the girls. Then Link heard a scream.

It was Saria’s scream.

“Saria!!” Link screamed out as he dropped his torch and ran towards the campfire, leaving the girls behind. He would later learn that him leaving sealed the girls fate.

Link ran and ran until he finally got back to the campfire, he could hear the screams and cries of the other children. He tightened his grip on his knife, and was looking around for answers. Why was this happening? Why were they being attacked? 

A sound finally brought him out of his thoughts, he remembered it from the time Saria had cut her hand on some broken glass...Saria was in pain. Link ran towards the sound and finally found Saria, he nearly dropped his knife in shock.

A different beast was over Saria and was holding her down with the sharp claws. The beast head was buried into Saria’s neck completely unaware that Link was even close by. Saria let out a wheezing sound through the pain, tears falling down his face. The unsettling part to Link was Saria hair, the once deep brown hair was slowly becoming deep green starting at the top and working down. What did this mean? What was the beast doing through to Saria?

Link finally snapped out of his shock, grabbing the knife and jumping on the back of the creature, plunging the knife into it’s back. The creature screamed out, red staining it’s teeth while a red and sickly orange pooled around Saria’s neck. Link was originally going to grab Saria and run like he did with Zazo, however that wasn’t the case.

The creature hit Link with its tail, sending Link flying back into a hollow log. Getting his head knocked around made Link pretty dizzy. The creature seemed to be speaking in a weird language to the forest, likely very angry. Link finally got a good look at Saria, she was pointing to the log next to Link.

‘Run’ Saria mouthed to her friend ‘please run’

The creature turned back to bite Saria, however another a creature came down from the trees. It was fluffy however it was sharp and spiky like the other one; it was looking at Link with twisted sharp teeth.

Link took a chance and crawled into the dead log, thanking his small body. He crawled and crawled away, he could hear the creature screaming in their weird language. 

Link finally stopped crawling, turning to look back towards the opening; he realized one of his boot were missing. He could see Saria from the whole in the log, her once brown hair was now just a memory, now a fully forest green. He saw the creature's arms come into the frame to pull Saria off the ground. Link started to cry but then he remembered Saria’s advice.

‘Run!’

He needed to run. He could crawl out of the log, finding where these paths lead. He could escape the forest! He could get the people from the town to help his friends!

Link crawled and crawled through the logs, which seemed to be a traveling system. Each step forward gave Link more conficance to help his friends, he would help them and hurt the creatures that hurt them. He finally got to the end of the log, he stayed inside and listened to see if the creatures were around. He heard nothing.

Link freed himself from the logs, taking a second to gather where he was at. He smiled to himself, he was close to the exit of the forest, he was close to freedom. 

He was free.

Link ran towards the exit of the forest, he would run across the field and go home to the nice man. He would tell the town people of the weird creatures, he would bring them back and he could help Saria. 

Then something tackled him to the ground.

Link screamed, swinging the knife at whatever knocked him down. However when the knife was knocked out of his hand he felt something wrap around him, keeping him in place. Link finally opened his eyes seeing the beast above him.

Unlike the spiky ones from earlier this one was fluffy like a moth, it explains why the tail wrapped around him didn’t hurt him. The creature brought its hand up to Link’s head. Link tried to scrump up, protect his neck from the creature. 

The creature let out a snort that Link would guess was a laugh, before grabbing Links head, forcing him to reveal his neck. The creature gave an open mouth smile, rows of sharp teeth greeted him as sickly orange venom fell down from the creature's mouth.

Link closed his eyes and let out an ear splitting scream, as sharp teeth pierced his neck.

Then Time woke up.

-

Time opened his eyes but then immediately groaned as pain shot through his left eye. Bringing his hand to rub his bad eye he took note of his surroundings. He was in Wild’s Hyrule in his Korok forest, there were no Kokiris, there weren’t any fairies. He let out a sigh as he brought his hand up to scratch the mark on his neck, the one Navi had given him when he was only six.

Something in him wanted to allow the mark to be out in the open, maybe if it was exposed to open air it would finally heal over, maybe the Kokiri symbol on his neck would be lost with the rest of the scars he had.

Time breath in the forest air trying to force down those thoughts. He knew it was dangerous to do so, and the fairies already flocked to him because of his Kokiri nature, he couldn’t imagine the conflict if they saw his mark. Even if the Kokiris aren’t around anymore, something tells him that the fae wouldn’t just stand aside.

Time just signed and looked towards his side, it appears that Four had fallen asleep next to him, holding onto Time’s tunic like a little child. Time smiled to which a sound made Time turn to his other side.

Time suppressed a snort at the sight. Wind was curled up in his sleep and he had apparently taken a Korok hostage in his sleep. The Korok seemed unhappy in its current situation as it was trying to wiggle for freedom and saying small little sounds, however Wind apparently slept like the dead because he didn’t wake up.

Time decided to help the little Korok freeing it from Wind’s grip, replacing Wind’s teddy bear Korok with his own arm. Having a toy to grab Wind drifted back to sleep, and Time grabbed Four to bring him closer in. 

Time leaned back onto the forest ground, the little Korok looking at Time with his new freedom.

‘Thank you,’ the Korok said to the older hero.

“No problem” Time whispered to the Korok, closing his eye to slowly fall back to sleep.

‘We missed you link’ the korok said.

‘Wait? What!?’ Time thought to himself as he opened his eye. In front of him was Saria.

A quick blink and the form of Saria turned back into a Korok, who gave a simple wave and began to tottle off into the forest.

Time just took a deep breath and brought the boys closer. The Kokiris gone, the koroks had taken their place. Their were no more fae that kidnap children and taking them into the forest. They were only in Time’s Hyrule.

Right….

[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 12

It occurred to Maul only when they were halfway to the mainland that he should probably tell Jango that they hadn’t died. 

Maul didn’t know why he was bothering, exactly. However much Jango might fancy himself a would-be-father for Maul he wasn’t. He wasn’t a father, or a master, or anyone that Maul owed true loyalty to. Maul owed him for patching him up, nothing more. He did not ask to be adopted and he did not need a parent or anyone to take care of him. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He had been for years. 

After this job that debt of his should be paid for, and Maul could go on about his life. He could find Kilindi and Daleen, fetch his brother from Dathomir before the witches could twist him into a tool for their use, and start building his shadow empire. 

That was his plan, wasn’t it?

"Plans are fragile things, and life often dashes expectations to the ground."

Maul’s head snapped around. He’d heard something again. A woman’s voice this time, one that whispered to him from a space between shadows. In his mind it was painted pale purple and white. 

Tiny, pin-pricked claws caught on his sleeve and one of the vornskr’s clambered up to rest on his shoulder, pushing her head against Maul’s cheek before she crawled inside his hood and lay herself around his neck. Her dark body was warm and fluffy with baby fur. 

She hadn’t reacted to the voice, nor had anyone else in the ship of freed slaves. Not even those few who stood close enough to hear a whisper away from him where he sat next to a control panel in the galley. 

Not a real voice then. Not one from a physical place. 

Maul touched his temple, beneath one of his crowning horns, and felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. Was it returning, now, the madness he had spent so long entrenched in? Mother Talzin’s magics had stitched together his fragmented mind with green energy and her own will, and after her death he had been forced to learn to hold it together himself. Sometimes the insanity threatened to creep back in. Sometimes he woke up and it was too dark and he could hear acid rain hissing and see the scratched paintings that a lunatic had put on the wall in fits of rage that kept him living and breathing but not truly there. 

It was a terrible thing, the madness. 

Being not himself, or worse when he was lucid enough to almost grasp onto concepts more solid than filling his mouth with blood and filling his heart with vengeance but could not quite grab hold of the flitting knowledge of who and what he was, or even what he hated so much that it kept his heart beating when the weaker would have perished.

He’d lost a decade of his life to that haze, in the squalor and the garbage and the fire. 

Thrown away like everything else on Lotho Minor. 

His nails dug hard into his thigh, biting into the skin there until it threatened to break and grounding him in the fact that he was not there. He had legs. They hurt. 

Maul took a breath, slowly, and wove the fear in his heart into a latticed shield that he’d been patching around his mind. It had done enough to keep him safe from the Jedi, but they hadn’t really been looking at him. They’d had no reason to prod his mind for more than superficial surface thoughts. 

Sidious had done more damage than Maul wanted to admit, and it would take more time than he had to completely fix it. If he ever could. There were scars in his skull, deep claw tracks that his master had left for him when he lanced through his thoughts and tore them asunder. 

He touched the small muzzle of his vornskr. Her companions, siblings, perhaps, found a place on his lap. 

The voice did not sound like the mad hissing and the frantic, cloying whispers of his shattered self. For one thing, he had never had a woman's voice. For another, it was not dripping with loathing and desperate pain. 

The scars on his palm itched. 

Once he was centered again, and sure of the world around him, Maul input Jango’s comm code. 

He answered a second later. 

“Who is this?” he demanded. His voice was short and sharp and there was the distinct sound of metal being ripped apart in the back ground. What was he doing? Maul had the feeling he’d missed something while he was on the platform with Kenobi. 

“Maul,” was all he said. 

Jango’s tone changed instantly. “Maul! Where are you? Why didn’t you answer the call?!” 

Maul rolled his eyes. Why was Jango so worked up? 

“I used an EMP to kill the explosive charges in a bunch of slave collars on the mine I found Kenobi on. It knocked out the comm along with everything else.” Maul wasn’t sure why he wasn’t just telling Jango that he hadn’t felt like it. 

“... You know what. I’ll ask when you get back. Where did you get the EMP?” 

“I made it.” 

Jango went quiet. Then, “Where did you come from?!”

Maul couldn't help it. He actually laughed. A rough, unused sound. 

“Orsis,” he said finally. “I trained on Orsis.” 

“Orsis. Fuck. That explains a lot. Okay. How did you make the EMP?” 

“Battery, door lock capacitor, wire coil.”

“Kriff.” 

“Why?” 

“Long story short? The di’kut jetii’s wayward student planted a bomb on a timer in the ionite mines. It’s going to blow up the planet.” 

Maul looked up to see Kenobi sitting across from him, horror on his face. “Cursed,” Maul said firmly. 

“Wait!” Kenobi jumped across the gap to slap his hands next to the ships com, nearly knocking his little lizard askew from its place clinging to his ginger hair. It’s tail slapped Kenobi in the cheek. Maul leaned away from him.

“Ionite! Ionite disrupts electronics, especially clocks and sensors. Miner’s are afraid of it,” Kenobi said quickly. 

“Ob’ika!” Jango sounded relieved. “You’re both safe?” 

“Yes,” he said, a strange smile on his face, “But the bomb-”

“We’ll handle it,” Jango promised. “Can the two of you meet us at our apartment?” 

“We can,” Maul assured, shouldering Kenobi behind him. “And Jango?” 

“Hmm?” There was the sound of rocks being thrown against something metallic. Jinn shouted something too far away to be heard. Hopefully he got hit with a rock.

“I have dibs on the dar’jetti.” 

“Absolutely not-!” 

Maul hung up the com and sat back in the seat to shoot a crooked grin at Kenobi. 

“What did you mean by that?” Kenobi asked curiously. 

“I mean that Xanatos has royally pissed me off, and I have no intention of letting him go now. If he was at the mines I have a starting point. Go back to the apartment.” 

“Not without you!” Kenobi grabbed his arm. “We go together.” 

Maul looked at him. His blue eyes were bright and true. Maul’s mouth thinned into a line. It would be dangerous for him but… Kenobi was stronger than he looked. If he had survived this on his own before, he must be. Maul underestimated him. 

“Very well. Together, then.”

Maul inclined his head to Kenobi, and ignored the way he burst into a grin. Force, he was so young. 

Maul had the newly freed slaves drop them off somewhere where Maul could ‘commander’ and speeder for them. Kenobi sat behind him, holding onto his poncho while the vonskr piled into the front of his shirt and Kenobi’s little lizard hid inside the jedi’s pocket. 

Maul turned them suddenly away from the mine. The Force, darkness whispering around his fingers, hissed at him that Xanatos was not there. 

“Where are we going?” Kenobi shouted in his ear. 

Maul didn’t respond. He sped faster, roaring through the crowded streets of Bando. If Xanatos had set a mine to blow up the planet then he wouldn’t still be around, and Maul had found the landing platform that Offworld used for its corporate members when he’d been poking around Xanatos’ files. 

They shot onto the landing platform from the street, bursting past the security teams and weaving between blaster fire until they went tumbling off the bike and directly into the cargo hold of a shiny nubien transport ship. It certain didn’t look like it came through an Ion storm. 

Kenobi landed on his feet and Maul at his side in a crouch. He forced the vornskr out of his clothes and shooed them off to the side. 

They were like him. Fighters, angry and vicious down in their bones, hunters with sleak bodies ready to grow into muscle and danger. Venom coated their pointed tails. 

“Stay,” Maul ordered harshly, pushing them between two boxes for their own safety. He could feel the little female in his mind, upset at being pushed aside. Their bond was already strong. 

Kenobi put his little pet in with Maul’s future hunters and the pair turned around right as the door slid open with a hiss and Xanatos came out, his cloak billowing. He was flanked by two assassin droids of a much more basic model than the CIS had used. He moved with a natural battle prowess, and looked down his nose at the children before him. 

Maul bared his teeth. Good. It would make it that much easier to kill him. 

Maul drew his blaster and fired without warning. Xanatos ripped his lightsaber out of his sleeve and flicked it on with a buzz. The red blade hummed ominous. Maul eyed it derisively. He could sense it from here. The crystal had been bled, but not properly. Xanatos was full of hatred, but not enough. 

Maul fired again and Kenobi ignited his own ‘saber. The little Jedi threw himself at the wash out with abandon. He was vicious and fast, the familiar forms he had used in the future nowhere to be found. 

Maul ignored the off footed feeling it left him with and kept shooting, careful not to his Kenobi while he was at it. The bolts shot back and hit the walls, scorching them and freeing crates from nets to go falling around them. It gave Maul the leverage to climb higher and hit Xanatos in the shoulder, thoroughly ruining his fine cloak. 

Good. It was gaudy anyways. 

The assassin droids came after them alongside their master with electro-staves, forcing Maul and Kenobi to fight three on two. Enraged by his loss of fashion Xanatos snarled and launched himself clean over Kenobi to slash down at Maul, who ducked and rolled out of the way. When Kenobi tried to held the droids intercepted him and tried to cut him down, forcing him on the defensive. 

He had to dodge and weave the slashes and jabs that Xanatos sent his way. He dropped and swept his foot out to knock Xanato’s feet out from under him. 

Maul fired at him twice and had both shots deflected.  

“Have you always had such sloppy footwork?” Maul asked dryly. 

Xanatos rose to his feet. Kenobi circled him on the other side.  Xanatos dodged between the two of them, trying to get them to slip up and strike eachother, but both of them managed to avoid it. The Force curled around Maul as his temper rose and impatience came with it, practically begging to be used. 

Maul shot just over Xanatos’ shoulder and steam erupted in the ship, screaming through the hold. The steam burned Xanatos’ arm, forcing a howl out of his mouth. 

Pathetic. 

Maul caught Kenobi’s eyes and jerked his chin towards the ex-Jedi. Kenobi caught his meaning and abandoned his opponents when he launched himself at Xanatos with a powerful overhead strike. 

Xanatos lashed out with the Force and slammed Kenobi into the wall so hard the metal dented. His lightsaber went out and fell to the ground with a clatter beside him while Kenobi’s body fell limp, just behind Maul. 

Rage coiled through Maul’s body. 

No, absolutely not. 

He didn’t hear the speeder roaring closer. He didn’t hear his comm, recovered from the EMP, going off. All he heard was the echoing of Kenobi’s body and his own blood rushing through his ears. 

“You shouldn’t have bothered with the Jedi,” Xanatos lectured, his voice slick. His Force slithered around Maul’s skull and tried to poke and prod him into listening. Maul snarled. “They don’t care about anyone or anything. They are cruel, and they will betray you in the end. They don’t understand true power.” 

“And you do?” Maul snapped, his voice harsh and echoing through the coiling steam. Xanatos’ smile was a sickening sight. Maul was going to cut his face off and rip the mouth apart. 

“I understand it better than any of them. Let me show you!” 

Xanatos threw his hand out, intending to strangle Maul, but Maul batted the Force choke away. Xanatos was strong in the darkside, for someone who hadn’t been trained in it. 

Maul was born to it. 

Raised in it. 

Suffered and bled and killed for it. 

The Darkside hummed through his veins. 

The ships ramp shook and clattered around the ground and the ship itself creaked as power filled it and pushed outwards, away from Maul. He lifted one hand and squeezed a fist to crush the droids on either side of Xanatos into nothing more than balls of scrap metal and wire. 

The former Jedi stepped back, his eyes wide. Fear flickered through them. 

Good. 

Maul touched the barrels of his blaster. He unhooked them from the base and pulled them free. They swung apart, a hinge in the middle keeping them together until the bases met. 

Red extended from one side, and crimson from the other. Maul held it in front of him, with Kenobi limp behind him and the darkness raging around the pair. 

“You-” Xanatos gasped. 

Maul met his eyes squarely. 

“You speak of power as if you have it. You have barely scratched the surface of the Darkside. So you covet one scar and one loss above all else? You are weak. Pathetic. The Darkside is born of fear and hate and you seek to control all things. But the Darkness can never be truly controlled. You are weak, ex-Jedi. You were never even a Knight. I have killed Padawan’s, Knights and Masters. I will kill you too.” 

Xanatos lifted his ‘saber up to block Maul’s first attack, but he was forced to defend. Each arching strike was powerful and intended to take his head. Each twisted and flash of red launched at his openings and weaknesses. 

Over, under, left, right, Maul came from all angles. Xanatos was good, but not good enough. He was no Jinn, no Kenobi, no Tano. 

Maul dodged and slash aimed at his shoulder and drove the edge of his ‘saber through Xanato’s chest. 

It was quick. Quicker than he deserved. 

Maul stepped back and let him fall to the ground with a hole smoking in his chest. 

He stood over him, his lightsaber singing in his grasp of vengeance and satisfaction. It had met its first blood with a fallen Jedi of the same lineage that Maul had spent a lifetime battling. Maul’s hood fell from his shoulders and he turned at last to his fallen battle-partner. 

He found pale blue eyes watching him. The pupils were dilated and Kenobi only uttered a weak groan. There was blood along his lips and his injured back had certainly been done no favors by the rough treatment at Xanatos’ hands. 

Maul walked towards him slowly. He turned off his ‘saber and folded it back in half just as Jinn and Jango came bursting through the doorway in a clatter of armor and boots. Maul picked up his blaster and carefully clicked the ‘saber back in its place before he joined Jango at Kenobi’s side. The Mandalorian was checking him over, testing his ribs and stomach for broken bones and internal bleeding. He head bled sluggishly from a cut along the back of it. 

“You found us,” Maul said, surprised.

Jango shot him a look. “I don’t know if you know this, but it’s my job to find people on the run. It doesn’t matter if their petty thieves or corporate hot shots. I’m very good at my job, Maul’ika.” 

Jango glanced at Maul’s blaster. So he had noticed after all. He was still acting like everything was the same. Like Maul wasn’t a sith. 

“Come on. Let’s get Ob’ika to a proper doctor. And stop shaking the ship.” 

Maul hadn’t even realized that it was still trembling under the force of his anger. The ship shuddered and the lights flickered when he draw the darkness back inside himself and tucked it carefully into the ocean of his being. 

He spared a glance at Jinn, who was cradling the body of Xanatos as if he hadn’t just tried to kill him and half a planet’s worth of people. 

Had Kenobi held Jinn like that after Maul had killed him? 

An armoured hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts. Maul looked up to see Jango standing over him with Obi Wan hefted onto his back. He still looked dazed, but with the weight of Maul’s anger lifted from him he was much more relaxed. 

“C’mon. Let the jetii mourn. I’m trusting you to watch my back on the way to the hospital.” 

Maul personally thought trusting a Sith was a terrible choice, but whatever. He nodded once to the Mandalorian before he went over to the shelter he had left their companions in. He came back holding three vornskr and Kenobi’s varactyl. 

Jango stopped walking when he saw Maul approach with a bundle of tiny animals. 

“... You’re cleaning up after them.” 

Maul scoffed. “Obviously.” 

The pair left Jinn to mourn his fallen apprentice. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Jango left Obi Wan to rest in Maul’s bedroom in their apartment before he made his way out to the kitchen, where Maul was feeding their new little guests. Three small feline creatures with puffy black fur and long tails that pointed at the end in a diamond shape. 

The three were all equipped with tiny, sharp claws and razor sharp baby teeth. 

Jango hadn’t even considered saying ‘no’ when Maul had pulled them out of a small space between crates in the cargo hold of Xanatos’ ship. The boy was a natural born hunter if he’d found the dar’jetii before either he or Jinn had arrived.

Jango hadn’t liked working with Jinn, and he liked even less tripping over him in close quarters combat with a coward who had no intention of fighting them straight. They had done more damage to each other than they had to Xanatos. 

In the end it hadn’t mattered. 

Jango’s kid had cut him down with a lightsaber of all things. 

Jango couldn't say he was surprised. 

The Manda had been very loud about the boy, and Jango had seen him building the strange blaster over the last few days. He’d known he’d been up to something curious, but he hadn’t been inclined to ask right off. Nothing had been put together in a way that looked like it would explode, and Maul had seemed to know what he was doing. 

Now Jango knew why. 

Orsis. Kriff. 

He’d heard of the academy there. The headmaster, Trezza, had recruited a Mandalorian years ago. Meltch Krakko may have been Kry’tsad but he was a formidable fighter. When he disappeared for nearly a decade it had been enough to warrant Jaster looking into it and Jango after. Now he was back with the Kyr’tsad and a royal thorn in Jango’s side. 

Had Maul been trained by Krakko? He’d been back for three years, and Maul looked much too young to belong to Orsis for that long. Yet, Maul was not a half trained student. He was well trained, a frightening thing. No child should be that good at killing. 

It also confirmed… certain things. 

Jango came to sit across the counter from where Maul was wrestling one of the felines with his hand, trying to ‘fight’ it for the small hunk of meat he was holding. The little varactyl that Maul said was Obi Wan’s was stretched out in front of a sunbeam that came through the window. Morning had already come and only Obi Wan had gotten any sleep. 

Jango set his helmet on the counter and ran his fingers through his hair. 

He was too young for this. He was too young for two kids and four animals, and more kids to come. He’d promised to help Maul fetch his brother. That would mean three kids. Four, maybe, Maul had used plural but he’d been vague. 

Jango didn’t know that he could raise all of them on his own. He was only twenty two, and he was Mand’alor as well. He didn’t even have a riduur to help him. How could he give the boys all the attention and care they deserved? 

Maul and Obi Wan were already independent for their age, and given when little Jango knew of them it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Apparently the jettii sucked at caring for their young. While that meant that he probably didn’t have to worry about making sure they got dinner and washed up it meant that he needed to be more present for other matters. 

For the compassion and care they had been denied before. To coax the both of them into trusting him and letting him take care of them when he could. Would it really be fair to ask that they put up with a buir that had so many responsibilities to the Haat’ade?

Jango had been so sure of himself before. And he hadn’t changed his mind. He wanted Maul as his son. He wanted Obi Wan too. 

But he had to think about what was best for the boys. 

On top of Jango’s own issues there was also the matter of the Force. 

Obi Wan had dreamed for so long of being a Knight, and his heart was crushed by the idea that it would never come true. Maul had already proven himself to be powerful in the magic, even more so tonight. 

Jango glanced at his blaster. 

He didn’t know what he’d expected when he arrived at Xanatos’ ship with Jinn, their alliance held together only by the common goal of ‘stop Xanatos’, but it certainly hadn’t been Maul standing protectively over a downed Obi Wan before he sprung into a fight so fast and vicious Jango hadn’t been able to keep up with it at the time. He’d been a blur of red and black rage that took Xanatos down in the time it took Jango and Jinn to cross the landing pad at a run. 

“You are taking this better than I expected,” Maul said suddenly. 

Jango pulled his gaze away from the blaster to look at the boy. 

“Taking what?” Jango asked, laying his hands on the counter. He’d noticed Maul was more comfortable when he could see everyone’s hand around him. It was just the smallest easing of his shoulders. Jango understood. 

“Me,” Maul said bluntly. Jango frowned. His confusion must have shown, or Maul felt it in the Force, because he elaborated. “My lightsaber. And the Force. You felt it there.” 

“Well yes,” Jango tilted his head. “I knew about it already.” 

Maul’s head snapped up and he sat straight, knocking his playmate on his back. The feline chirped angrily at him and snatched the meat. He went scampering over to his litttermates, and ended up getting knocked head over heels by the female. She was a scrapper, and she adored Maul. 

“You what?!” 

Jango’s heart softened. Maul hadn’t known. He’d been hiding it this whole time. Had he been afraid? Had he thought Jango was going to punish him for having such abilities? 

Jango recalled the scars that painted Maul’s body. 

It was very possible that that was what he expected, because that was what had happened in the past. The idea made Jango’s blood heat with anger. 

Jango tamped it down so he could speak calmly to Maul. 

“When I found you on that ship, the one that you were stowed away in, you lashed out when you were hurt. Every light in the ship exploded.” 

Maul grimaced. “I see. Then why didn’t you leave me there?” 

Jango didn’t even try to act like he wasn’t horrified. 

“You’re a child! I wasn’t leaving an ad alone in the middle of space in a dead ship!” 

“You have no obligation to me,” Maul snapped. “I’m not your son, you’ve sworn nothing to me. I’m not a Mandalorian-” 

“But you can be. You know you can be.” 

The weight of his words betrayed the secondary meaning behind them. Jango watched Maul’s breath catch and his eyes grow wide. His skin paled to pink and grey. Jango winced. He hadn’t meant to scare him that much. He hadn’t meant to scare him at all. 

“You saw that,” Maul hissed, scrambling to stand up. Jango made himself stay calm. He made himself stay relaxed, his hands in sight and his eyes open and genuine. 

“I did. It was the future, wasn’t it?” He waited for Maul to give a stiff, short nod. Jango stayed very still. “I heard that jetii sometimes see the future, and sometimes they read minds. Mandalorian’s who are more connected to it can sometimes receive information from the Manda, but it’s mostly feelings and intuition.” 

“Beskar muffles the Force,” Maul said quietly. 

“I didn’t have my buy’ce on when it started. I saw what could have happened, and I saw what you changed it too, with your friends. You’re going to look for the girls eventually too, right?” 

Maul nodded slowly. 

Jango quietly added two more to his growing list of responsibilities. If it took a clan to raise a child it was going to take the entire Haat’ade to raise Jango’s.  

 “You knew the whole time,” Maul realized, looking at Jango with new eyes. One of the barriers between them was starting to dissolve. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to scare you. If you wanted me to know you would tell me, eventually. You hate having to make yourself lesser.” 

Maul grimaced. “Yes. I do.” 

Jango leaned closer across the counter. 

“I would never ask you to do that, you know. I would never ask you to pretend to be anything that you aren’t. You’re a feral nexu, and too smart for your own good. You’re a fighter the likes of which I’ve rarely met. Even if I wish that you didn’t have to be. I wasn’t lying, or joking, and I’ve known what you are and what you could be the entire time. I want you as my son, Maul’ika. If you say yes.” 

Maul sat back. He looked lost, and confused, but Jango could see a new light in his eyes. 

“My brothers. If you take me you take them.” 

“I know,” Jango promised. He hesitated. “I wouldn’t try to keep you from family. My buir, Jaster Mereel, took me in. I was a foundling. My parents and my sister were killed by the Kyr’tsad.”  

“Oh.” 

The door to Obi Wan’s room hissed open and they both turned to see the boy standing there, looking pale and shaken but standing upright. Jango waved him over and Obi Wan came to sit by his side. His varactyle came running off and climbed quickly onto Obi Wan’s shoulder. Obi Wan smiled and pet her head, where a crown of messy feathers was starting to come in. 

“It’s good to see you’re up,” Jango said fondly. Obi Wan shot him a shy smile before he sat up straighter. He was far too adult for Jango’s liking. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you like that.” 

Jango’s heart broke. He dragged Obi Wan into his side. His armor lay on the corner, so he didn’t smack the boys head on his breast plate. 

“It wasn’t an inconvenience, but I wish you boys had waited for us, or at least told us the plan. I would have helped, you know.” 

Obi Wan flushed faintly with the simple affection, but he let Jango hug him for a minute more before being released to sit on the stool next to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “But we won! Right?” He looked between the pair. “I.. don’t remember everything. It was dark, and cold, and kind of hard to see…” 

“Yes. We won,” Jango assured. “Xanatos is dead. Maul got him.” 

Obi Wan looked to Maul in surprise. The zabrak boy hunched his shoulders. Obi Wan’s eyes got wider. 

“The lightsaber. The red lightsaber, with two blades. It was real. It was yours.” 

Maul nodded, once. His lips curled, ready to bite. 

“Yes. It is.” 

“But, how? You aren’t a jedi, are you? You’re too young…” 

“I’m old enough,” Maul snapped, as he was wont to. Jango privately disagreed. From what he knew of zabraks, Maul hadn’t even hit puberty yet. He wouldn’t have even  been eligible for his verd’goten yet. 

“But you’re right,” Maul admitted. “I am no jedi. I am… I was, a sith apprentice.” 

Obi Wan sucked in a sharp breath. “But the sith are dead!” 

“Not dead,” Maul shook his head. “Hiding. A line of Banite sith have been in hiding for a thousand years, passing knowledge from Master to Apprentice.” 

“That’s- But- We have to tell the Jedi Council,” Obi Wan said suddenly. Maul lunged across the counter and grabbed his arm. 

“No!” He nearly shouted. The lights flickered and Obi Wan’s skin paled. Jango grasped both boys by the shoulders and pulled them apart. Maul spared him a brief glance. 

“No,” Maul said again, his voice low and sharp and urgent. “You can’t tell them. They wouldn’t believe you, there’s no proof of what I say and even if there was there’s nothing they can do about it. My- The Master is too powerful politically to be touched, and a religion is not illigal. The Jedi serve the Republic’s whims.” 

It was a messy, uneven argument, but it wasn’t wrong either. Besides that Jango had personal doubts about exactly how capable the Jedi Council was. Not just for Galidraan, but for Obi Wan too. 

They were fools. 

It was still a problem though. 

“That’s not all, is it?” Jango pressed, squeezing Maul’s shoulder. He frowned, but nodded, slowly. 

“No. It’s not.” 

“We can’t let a Sith Lord run free though,” Obi Wan argued. “The Sith are evil! They’ll hurt people.” He faltered and looked at Maul, remembering that he had just called himself a Sith Apprentice. 

Maul glared at the table. 

“No. We will not let him run free. I will kill him myself. For the pain he caused me. For the life he stole from me. For the people he ripped from my arms and the blood I painted myself in for him. I will kill him for it.”

Obi Wan frowned. 

“Revenge is dangerous. Master Yoda says it leads to the Darkside.” 

“I’m already entrenched in the Darkside,” Maul said irritably. He tilted his head. “Do you even know the Sith Code?” 

Obi Wan frowned. “Well, there’s only ever two of them. And they use that Darkside, and tried to take over the galaxy before. They’d angry and hateful, and evil.”

Again, he winced. Again, Maul didn’t take offense. 

“Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.

Through Passion I gain Strength.

Through Strength I gain Power.

Through Power I gain Victory.

Through Victory my chains are Broken.

The Force shall free me” 

Maul’s voice echoed with the words of a thousand Sith that came before him. Jango could feel it in his bones, the way the air shifted and the shadows lengthened in the corner of his eyes. 

Obi Wan frowned. “That… doesn’t sound that bad.” 

Maul inclined his head. “You’re not entirely wrong. My Master is evil. He’s cruel and vicious. And his own master still lives. He has broken the Rule of Two by teaching me. I will end the line of Bane. There is strength in the Darkside.” 

“Although,” he added, reluctantly. “The Lightside is not without its own merits.” 

“Don’t jetii preach about balance?” Jango wondered aloud. 

“They usually mean only for the Light to be prevalent,” Maul said with a grimace. 

“But, yes. We do,” Obi Wan said. His face fell. “They do. I’m not a real jedi now. And Master Jinn won’t take me and there’s no one else that would.” 

“I told you I would help you, Obi Wan,” Jango reminded him. He hated saying it. He really did, especially given what Galidraan could have been if they hadn’t had the warning from two years ago. “If you really want it, I’ll help you find a teacher too, if you’re willing to put up with us for a while more. There have to be a few Jedi who have less of a stick in their shebs than Jinn does.” 

Obi Wan looked at him with such fragile, heartbreaking hope Jango wanted to burn the Jedi temple to the ground. “Really? You think someone would take me?”

If they didn’t, Jango would. 

Jango nodded at him with as kind of a smile as he could muster. 

“I do. We’ll just have to start looking.” 

Maul made a small sound. 

“Actually,” he began, “I might have an idea where to start. There’s a reclusive Jedi Master…”

[stardustndice]

——A Fire Exit. A Sword-Fight. An Overdue Discussion.

Part 2 of 2 of an FBI AU Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader Story. Read Part 1 Here.

a/n: It’s finally here! I’m so sorry this took so long, everyone. I’ve been so busy figuring out plans for my freshman year of college and I graduated high school! Very exciting. Anyways, please enjoy the final part, I’m very proud of it. Props to @hellotherekenobi​ for spawning this fic. Couldn’t have done it without ya.

tag list (either you asked to be tagged or I like your writing a whole lot): @kaminobiwan​ @karasong​ @morganas-pendragons​ (if you want to be tagged in future fics, lmk!)

warnings: mention of blood, minor violence, some hot stuff near the end ;)

“Because she isn’t you.”

You thought it was impossible to have the air knocked out of your lungs without having been pushed onto the ground. Evidently not.

Your heart feels like it’s about to tear itself out of your chest and blood is rushing to your cheeks as thousands of possibilities sprint across your thoughts. Every time you’d seen him in the past, scanned his face, or gazed at him when his back was turned, you always assumed he didn’t feel the same way, that you didn’t deserve someone so kind, so hardworking, so passionate about protecting the innocent. To your surprise and excitement, you were wrong.

Another shriek from the hostage wrenches you out of your daydreaming. The Negotiator steps into view of the abductor, but not before nodding at the collection of terrified patrons huddled near the bar and meeting your eyes. You get the gist and begin to step towards them, avoiding the neon spotlights shining from the ceiling. Scanning the room quickly, a fire exit catches your eye on the other end of the bar, just a short distance from the room Orwen expected you to ‘service’ him in.

“Rheva, I need you to talk to me,” you hear Kenobi say calmly. His shockingly calm demeanor when negotiating never fails to shock you but you still feel an ounce of worry at his seemingly nonchalant tone in these situations. “What happened?”

You can’t afford to turn around as you begin leading partiers out of the exit. You don’t want to know the possible carnage that could ensue in the event that such a delicate position is compromised.

“You think I’m an idiot, Kenobi?” someone sneers, you assume Rheva. “No one wears a fucking suit and tie to Kina’s, not unless they’re looking for something.” You hear an exasperated sigh from your partner and you suppress a giggle. As they continue speaking, a Togruta gives you a look of shock, probably at your giggling during a hostage situation. You shoo him to the exit. Once everyone besides a few stiff, armed guards remain, you turn to see how Obi Wan is doing, moving silently until you’re merely a few steps behind him.

“I know you’re looking for me. You and your pretty little friend,” Rheva spits, gesturing to you with her knife. At this point, the hostage, a girl who looks to be in her early twenties, is hysterical. Tears are streaming down her face and she’s frantically looking between you and Obi Wan, desperate for eye contact. Despite his deescalation expertise, you see Obi Wan tense slightly at Rheva’s not-so-fond nickname for you.

“Rheva, we’re looking for Sarek, not you. Has he done something to you?” Obi asks softly, cautiously taking a step forward. Almost imperceptibly, Rheva starts to shake, her grip on the knife becoming weaker. Both you and your partner notice. Your partner’s patience is thicker than yours, though, as he spots you itching to quickly diffuse the situation.

“He can’t...if I tell you, I’m dead!” she shrieks. Obi Wan’s brows furrow. This is new information. If Sarek has been telling whomever he sleeps with about his plans, then you’ve had everything you need without even knowing it.

“Tell us what?” you chime in, taking a step to stand at Kenobi’s side. You hear a clatter behind you and you turn quickly, pistol drawn. A trandoshan hisses and licks his fangs, the last thing you glimpse before someone hits you in the back of your head and the world goes dark.

Someone poking your cheek gently rouses you into the conscious world. You groan lazily until a harsh slap hits your cheek. At that, the world rushes into your brain like ice water dumped on a drunk sorority girl. After several rapid blinks to clear your cloudy vision, you whip your head towards the source of the hit.

Sarek grants you a sinister grin, his lizard tongue darting out to sound a signature trandoshan hiss. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that your hands are tied behind your chair with zip ties. A spark of hope flies in your chest.

Sarek will regret not using handcuffs later.

It’s not long before that spark is snuffed out and replaced with a venomous anger. A grunt sounds from behind Sarek and your eyes dart away from his pale golden eyes. Obi Wan is in the same predicament, although his left eye is now outlined in a garish, swelling plum. As your blood boils you look around for an escape route. Nothing adorns the dusty concrete walls besides cracks and mold, so you assume however Sarek entered the room is out of your line of sight.

“Maybe your friend isn’t as tight-lipped as you, Kenobi,” Sarek drones, and you wrench your head away when he drags a claw down your jaw. A cry escapes you when he grasps your hair and yanks your head back towards him. It’s truly painful, though, when he steps aside, still holding your hair, to show your partner. When you make eye contact with him, ashamed, his eyes widen and his mouth opens barely, only to be replaced immediately by an angry mask. “Don’t touch her, Sarek.”

“And why not? What exactly are you going to do about it tied to a chair?” Sarek giggles maniacally, his back to you but you’re sure he’s baring his teeth grotesquely.

As quietly as possible, you begin to shimmy your hands, now in fists, out of the zip tie. It stabs into your wrists, but adrenaline and determination push you to keep pulling and twisting. Your partner notices your efforts and focuses on Sarek. He takes a leap of faith.

“We have Kaiela.”

For a moment you pause, your head shooting up to raise a shocked brow at Obi Wan, but he doesn’t return your gaze, and you quickly resume your task, praying that his risky bluff won’t get the both of you executed. You’re not too worried; Obi Wan has a 100% success rate at life-or-death mission improv thus far.

“If you let us go, we’ll give you two a happy little reunion,” Obi snarks. Time passes as Sarek stares down at Obi Wan, who huffs a strand of hair out of his eyes, all the while maintaining Sarek’s gaze. You’ve nearly wrangled yourself out of the zip ties when Sarek’s cackle makes your heart drop. “Oh, Kenobi, you handsome idiot,” he drawls and leans forward, whispering loudly “she’s with me.”

Everything happens at once. The zip ties snap apart and you lunge for Sarek right as he turns to smirk at you. His smile vanishes and you deliver a powerful blow to his solar plexus and he crumples gracelessly to the ground. Your eyes narrow when you notice an empty sheath for a small knife on his waist and look at Obi Wan. The world screeches to a halt for the second time tonight when you see a knife sticking out of his stomach. You spring up to inspect his wound and he winces when you touch the handle. Taking it out would make matters much worse. “Christ, I’m glad you never became a doctor,” he mumbles while you snatch another knife from Sarek’s inventory.

“We don’t have much time. He’ll only be out for another minute or so. We have to leave. Were you conscious when he dragged us in here?” you ask. Obi Wan nods and looks somewhere behind you. Once you follow his gaze after cutting him free, you see a large metal door. It takes some effort, but you manage to help him limp out the door only to groan upon seeing Sarek’s garishly-decorated office. A gold chandelier hangs from the marble ceiling and plush fur rugs are piled on top of each other in a seating area by the exit, you assume to whatever ‘jail’ the two of you were dragged here from. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of the starlit harbor, the ocean peacefully rolling into wooden pillars holding up the dock.

Halfway across the room: that’s how far you get before you wince upon hearing a metal slam and reptilian growl from behind you. You’re surprised when Obi Wan stands on his own to turn to Sarek, determined. Sarek, however, is not nearly as composed. Both of you sidestep Sarek’s messy charge, but you tense when he quickly pulls out...a sword? If it wasn’t for your partner slowly bleeding out and how painful your heels are getting, you'd laugh, but Sarek holds the blade to Obi Wan’s throat and backs him into the burgundy wallpaper in front of you.

By the grace of the gods, you spot an atrocious-looking display to your left, holding a gaudy and intricate broadsword. The rug helps muffle your footsteps, and the sword smoothly slides out of its mount. It’s surprisingly light and you whirl around to see Obi Wan struggling to push Sarek away. With all the strength of an MLB pitcher, you hurl the broadsword into the wall to his right. The blade sinks into the wall with a solid thunk and the practically-bedazzled handle wobbles back and forth next to Kenobi’s head. He then offers a sly grin that releases a cage of butterflies in your abdomen and yanks the sword out of the wall and brandishes it out in front of him. Sarek leaps back in the nick of time, nearly getting sliced in the belly.

You suddenly get an odd feeling of déjà vu.

Stress festers in the pit of your stomach as you watch Obi Wan and Sarek dance around each other, composing a metal rhythm as they lunge for the other’s vital organs. Sarek’s knife is still lodged in Obi Wan’s stomach and you fidget. “Please be careful,” you yell halfheartedly over the clanging, “You do remember your stab wound, don’t you?” Obi Wan glances over at you for a split second and gives you a cheeky grin. “Are you sure I’ve been stabbed? I hardly feel a thing!” he puffs, ducking under a particularly clumsy swing from Sarek. You roll your eyes but the duel escalates quickly when the exit bangs open harshly, and in piles an assortment of trandoshans, each of them wielding a firearm of some kind.

A snicker sounds from Obi Wan’s opponent. Kenobi drops the broadsword and backs away from Sarek and his rapidly-advancing cohorts. Tension has clogged the room at this point. It’s silent until Obi grabs a heavy-looking vase and unceremoniously chucks it at the window. Before you know it, he’s wrapped an arm around your waist and takes one, two, three steps and leaps out into the air above the water. You shriek and clutch at the back of Obi Wan’s suit jacket, shutting your eyes tight and bracing yourself for the icy plunge.

It never comes. Instead, a loud thump rattles your bones and forces your eyes open. The first thing you notice is that Obi Wan is still holding onto you. More importantly, he’s rubbing circles into your back to try and help you relax. You scramble gracelessly off of him and look around. A consistent dripping noise echoes around the space and you discover that somehow you’re in an open space under Sarek’s office, which was sticking out from the building and over the water like a sore thumb. Your eyes trace a long black wire leading from the edge of the building to your location. You squint at Obi Wan. “There’s no way you could’ve known that wire would be there.”

He chuckles. “I was fully prepared to go for a swim before I spotted it. It would’ve been a pity to ruin such a nice dress.” You stick your tongue out at him and he softly jabs you in the waist, eliciting a very mature squeak from you. Once he winces from laughter your face softens. “Let’s get you to a corner store and grab a first aid kit. If you’ve gone this long without passing out from blood loss the knife must not have punctured anything vital,” you tell him, gently touching his abdomen. He’s silent and you look up at him to see him...avoiding your gaze? You realize you’re still touching him and jerk your hand away like you’d just burned it.

“Are you worried about me?” he laughs, beaming. In retaliation (and to hide your glowing cheeks), you move to support Obi Wan and begin to lead him out towards the street, purposely looking as far away from him as possible.

“We can buy a first aid kit at the corner store and perhaps grab a bite to eat at Dex’s?” Obi Wan suggests. You nod and the two of you walk/limp to your destination.

On the sidewalk outside of Dex’s Diner, Obi Wan sits patiently, waiting for you to bring out food. You both had decided not to eat inside the restaurant and scare the customers with Obi looking so banged up. You’d carefully cleaned and stitched up his wound, and all the while he stared down at you, bewildered by your concentration and skill.

He’d come to terms with his feelings a long time ago, only now he’s scared you don’t feel the same way. You’d always treated him like a brother, as much as it irked him sometimes. Too many times you’d come very close to catching him gazing lovingly at you while you cut down mobsters and the like. It was becoming more difficult by the day to keep his heart from tumbling out of his lips, to keep the dam shut.

His chest clenches as the memory of your pained and frightened face in Sarek’s grasp resurfaces. It cleaved straight through his soul. At that moment, he gives himself a task: he’ll make sure that you never have to be that scared again, even if it kills him.

He is torn from his thoughts when the bell at the door of the diner chimes and you take a seat on the curb beside him, a hand offering him a Shawda club sandwich. He groans in happiness and you laugh, watching him dramatically savor the first bite. Peaches and purples swirl together in the sky as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. Its rays are cut into pieces by towering skyscrapers and buildings, the pieces hitting the sidewalk around you. The moment is peaceful but you have something to get off of your chest, you just don’t know how.

“Obi Wan-”

“I-”

You both startle. You gesture to him to speak and all at once the words he was going to say are absent from his tongue. An awkward pause fills the space between you.

“What I said at Kina’s...I wasn’t lying,” he says firmly. “I’ve never met anyone who comes close to you. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same way but I need to tell you this before something happens to me again. You’re everything to me. You’re strong and capable and you deserve the world. I just hope you can settle for me.”

When you don’t move his heart sinks into his stomach. His hope tarnished, he begins to ramble. “If you don’t want to work with me anymore, I understand. I just hope we can-”

The defeat laced in his voice breaks you out of your shocked stupor and you whirl around, planting your palm on his mouth. He quiets, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. You press your forehead to his, giggling from relief and the last of your adrenaline. Your hand falls to cup his jaw, his beard soft under your fingers.

“Shut up and kiss me, you reckless dork.”

Obi’s face splits in a grin as he finally kisses you, pulling you closer at the nape of your neck and his other hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your other hand is splayed on his chest as you break for air and you initiate the next searing kiss, tugging him with both hands by the collar of his torn dress shirt. You hear his muffled chuckle at your unbridled enthusiasm.

You push him away to make sure it isn’t some kind of twisted dream, but you’re instead greeted by a rather attractive sight. Obi Wan is panting, his cheeks dark and one button undone on his dress shirt, revealing his collarbone and the top of his chest.

“I’m offended that you called me a ‘reckless dork’ when you just aggressively made out with me,” Obi Wan snarks, grinning.

“Oh shut it, you loved it.”

“I suppose it was alright…although it wouldn’t hurt to practice.”

[insomniac-arrest]

my mother did not tell us stories.

I was tucked up in bed nice and neat with my blankets pressed all the way up to my chin and my breathing coming out in an even flow. A smooth inhale, exhale, inhale again, it had all the trappings of real sleep. I’m the oldest so I have to tuck myself in neatly and wait for the others to follow suit. Though, I would guess most of them didn’t have to pretend.

Time must have slipped by, minutes, hours, the silver slash of the moon crossing the sky with a gradual ease of movement. I was somewhere between bruised-eyed wakefulness and a frantic dream trying to suck me down with the force of sticky tar.

Something banged from down below.

A crash like pots and pans, silverware tossed down stone steps, breaking flower vases on concrete. My eyes were fully open and my feet swinging out of bed before I knew what I was doing.

I can’t let the Pastor see this, that’s the type of thoughts I was having at the time. I was the oldest after all. 

I pushed my way out of the blankets just as two little heads poked up from the covers on the beds next to mine, “what’s going on?” Tom slurred his words and asked groggily.

“Sh,” I hushed him, “I’ll take care of it.” I was already out the door and down the stairs that groaned under my steps.

The lights were off in the house and a draft pushed through my thin pajamas. I shivered and rounded the living room to find the kitchen quiet and empty.

“What was that?” More voices came from upstairs, but none of them were the Pastor.

I looked left and right, but all of the kitchen cabinets were firmly shut. I took a step forward and wetness hit my toes.

My eyebrows rose and looked down to see puddles of water across the floor. They were neat silver pools that dribbled from the door to the middle of the kitchen. And then simply stopped. I took a deep inhale and it smelled of damp soil.

I gawked at it for a long second before I heard a wizened voice. “What’s that, Cathleen?”

I turned quickly, “Nothing, Pastor Kirk. A stray cat!” I frowned at the wet spots on the floor. “Let me tell stories to the children and get them back to bed.”

My own mother never told stories even when I knew her, but I had a few left. I told one about a ghost that night.—————-It was a week later and I had a toothache that dully worked its way through my jaw and took up my whole head space. That was probably why I forgot to bow my head at mother Mary when I walked in the door that day. We were always supposed to show our respects.

“Do you show disrespect?”

“No disrespect, sir.” I squeaked.

“Do you want the devil to possess your carelessness? Huh?” I shook my head vigorously and looked for an escape route as little Lilly glanced over at me and mouthed some words.

“I’ll go get dinner started.” I said quickly before the flood gates really opened, “I’ll go collect more eggs. We’ll have cake.”

He just watched me carefully as I fled out of the back door and into the thick grasses. I was breathing hard by the time I was free of his hateful gaze. I slowed when I approached the hen house and paused as I saw Margaret standing besides the little door and not going in.

She was a stoic girl with a handsome chin and small watchful eyes.

I gave her a wary look and examined the brown coop: it seemed the same wooden structure with a steep roof and little ramp up to the door. “Um,” I glanced to Margaret who had not spoken since she arrived at the home. “Is something wrong?”

Margaret pointed carefully toward the door and I shuffled over to look at the small tin handle. It was wet.

I slowly reached out to touch the moisture clinging to it, but jumped when the chickens burst out with a series of loud clucks and noisy bocking. I wrenched the wet door open and the chickens came flooding out. “Girls, girls!” I tried to calm them but all six of the ladies came charging out of the house and into the yard.

Except for one. I stuck my head into the dim little space that smelled of sawdust and animal warmth. And wet soil.

There was one chicken left in the house. She was standing over a very large egg and when I went over to her the egg broke open as if made of a chalk. Easy and strange.

One green scaly leg stepped out, and then another. I cocked my head to the side as a lizard seemed to be looked back at me. A chicken seemed to have laid a lizard.

“Shoo,” I waved the chicken off and looked at the strangest green creature I’d ever seen.

“Cathleen!” Someone called for me. “Cathleen, what are you doing?”

I grabbed the lizard with both hands and stuck it in my pocket. “Nothing!” There were more drops of water near the coop as I exited it.

The Pastor gave a small lecture that night about young woman who stray from the path of the righteous: ones who were did not listen well or have good in their hearts. He finished with his usual speech about the end of the world and judgement coming to us all.

I wasn’t sure about the rest of it, but I remembered what the chicken had just birthed and for once I almost agreed.—————“I can’t hear you!” It was late. The night sky had long since been glittering above and my eyes drooped.

“My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you.” Our voices joined together as we repeated the phrases and knelt and then stood and then knelt again.

“Louder!” He said with a look in his eyes you might see in race horses on their last lap. Lilly softly wept beside me.

It was long past our bedtimes and Tom’s knees were bleeding and leaving marks upon the floor.

“My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you.”

I was shaking slightly. I was the oldest. But I had already tried to reason with him to release the younger ones, but he just spat “do you want to see your siblings go to hell?” I knelt and then stood again.

My throat was raw and hoarse and I had forgotten in what way we had angered him this time.

My head was bent down and hair loose around my face when color bled across the floors. A rose-red slant of light that spilled and spilled out onto the kitchen tiles.

I looked up just as the full moon was colored a hazy, distinctive crimson. It bathed the entire fields outside like a battlefield. And the grass was wet.

“What is that?” The Pastor’s eyes went wide and he took a step back. My cheek still stung from when I had tried to talk to him earlier. I turned to him now, knees trickling blood and a defiance I didn’t know I had shining through my face.

Bang

The other kids jumped as the loud noise crashed from outside.

“Cathleen?” One of the younger kids reached for my hand and the Pastor backed away toward the corner.

“It’s fine.” I said and looked toward the door expectantly. The smell of damp earth and overturned soil permeated the air.

Bang

It was coming closer. All the signs were there. It had been coming for awhile now.

“What devils have you brought to my door, child?” He looked directly at me and I couldn’t help but be filled with it. Remade in the terror on his face.

BANG

Something banged on the door and shook its very hinges. “Margaret,” I turned to my foster sibling, “let her in.” I glanced back over to the Pastor with my head raised, “mom’s back.”

My mom never told us stories. But she was one.

[thesoobfiles]

feelings vs. duty - a. skywalker

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Prompt: "For some reason, I'm attracted to you."

Words: 3.1k

Summary: You and Anakin are both padawans and are paired up for a mission on Hoth. During said mission, you question your already forbidden attraction towards Anakin.

a/n: this was a little something i whipped a few weeks ago, but rest assured i’m getting to the requests as quick as i can :)

------------------------------

Your P.O.V.

For reasons unknown to myself, I've been called down to the Jedi Council. 

Perhaps for some sort of message or task?

I stand in front of the large doors and smooth out my Jedi robes, making sure I look presentable before I stand in front of the Council and my Master, Yoda.

I push the doors open and the attention of everyone in the room is directed towards me. I walk inside, looking around, to see Obi-Wan Kenobi's padawan, Anakin Skywalker, already present, in the middle of the circle and already having his eyes on me.

"My padawan, glad you could join us." Master Yoda says. I slightly bow before making my way into the circle alongside Anakin.

"We were just informing Padawan Skywalker of the mission at hand and of its importance." Master Windu voices.

"There has been chatter of Sith sightings and suspicious activities going on upon the planet, Hoth." Master Koon informs.

"You two will be accompanying one another on this mission, right away and this mission is strictly reconnaissance so DO NOT engage." Master Kenobi emphasizes while looking directly at Anakin. Not that he noticed because he's too busy staring at me, with his beautiful cerulean eyes.

"Given the destination of this mission, make sure you wear the proper attire." Master Kenobi finishes. All the while, Anakin continues to stare in my direction instead of paying attention; classic Skywalker.

"Your mission, understand, do you?" Master Yoda asks.

"Yes, Master. I'm humbled to receive such an important task." I say and bow before the Council.

"Do you understand the mission, my young Padawan?" Obi-Wan directs his question towards his apprentice. His question is met with silence as Skywalker's attention is still on me. I roll my eyes; I slightly turn my head to look at him and gesture with my eyes for him to pay attention. At the same time I try and help him out, Master Kenobi makes another attempt at grabbing his attention.

"Anakin?" Master Kenobi inquires and Anakin's head snaps to the source of the voice calling his name.

"Do you understand the mission?" Obi-Wan asks again.

"Yes, Master." He finally says and bows.

"Dismissed, you are." Master Yoda says and I bow once more before I make my exit, Skywalker hot on my trail.

I speed walk, trying to lose him, but he manages to keep up with me. Curse his long legs. I make a beeline to my room to grab my winter robes and surprise, surprise, Anakin is still following closely behind me. I stop abruptly and he bumps into me. I turn around, looking up at his gorgeous face and flawless skin. I stare into his ocean blue eyes and they stare right back at me. However, now is not the time to be drooling over Anakin Skywalker; I need to focus on the mission at hand.

"Out of curiousity, did you hear anything they said in the Council room?" I ask, wondering how much of the weight I'm gonna have to pull.

"Important mission on Hoth regarding Sith sightings and suspicious activity." Anakin makes it short and sweet. Huh, so I guess he was paying attention.

"Well, maybe instead of following me to my quarters, perhaps you should make your way to yours and grab your winter robes." I say. He stands there, in all of his 6'2 glory and looks like he's actually pondering whether he should head towards his room. He looks back down at me with mischief in his eyes. Oh my stars, may the force be with me so I can handle this guy.

"You have a point; I just wanted to say that we'll be making our trip in my ship." He stated.

"Who has decided this?" I question.

Who in the galaxy gave him clearance to fly? From what I hear, he's a suicide pilot!

"Me." He says, signature smirk planted firmly on his face as he walks away without another word.

This is going to be a long mission

—

I make my way down the halls of the Jedi Temple and to Anakin's ship, fingers crossed that I survive the trip.

At the entrance of the ship is Master Obi-Wan and Anakin; they appear to be conversing about something. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation so I walked slower, looking around. Taking in all of the other ships and the pilots climbing in to fly them.

The next time I look in their direction, Anakin is gone and Obi-Wan is walking in my direction.

"Please watch over Anakin. He's hot-headed and acts before he thinks. May the Force be with you" Master Kenobi requests with his hand on my shoulder.

"Of course, Master. Thank you, Master." I reply and nod my head. He provides a small smile then walks off.

"Hurry! We do not have time to waste!" Anakin shouts from the entrance of his ship.

"Says the boy who wasted time following me around..." I mutter under my breath. I walk over to the vehicle and settle into the co-pilot seat. Anakin is already seated and flips and pushes all the appropriate switches and buttons.

"Against my better judgment, you'll be flying this vessel; so, try not to kill us before we reach our destination." I say, voicing my concerns.

"Please, I am the best pilot the galaxy has to offer." He says, attempting to shoo away my worries and brag about his piloting skills. In return, I roll my eyes at his statement and prepare for the long trip ahead.

It's not too long before we're off the ground and on the path to Hoth.

—

The stories are true, Anakin Skywalker is a suicide pilot! He flies like a mad man! Anakin spins and twirls the ship any chance he gets and speeds off like there is no tomorrow!

He makes an especially dangerous turn; in response, my eyes squeeze shut and my hand flies off to grab the closes object. Turns out, the closest object was Anakin's right arm. Since it’s metal, I did not notice until Anakin started snickering. I open one of my eyes and look at Anakin; his eyes are still facing forward, but my hand is on his arm and he's got a smirk on his face.

"If you wanted to hold hands, you could have just asked..." He teases. I quickly retract my hand and return it to my lap, cheeks ablaze and heart rapidly beating.

You're losing your composure, (Y/N). Just focus on your breathing. Not on how gorgeous his eyes look even in the vacuum of space. Or how handsome he looks when he’s concentrated on flying.

“Your thoughts are loud.” Anakin speaks up, smirk never leaving his face.

Jedi can read thoughts now?

“Any force user can, it’s just frowned upon by the Council; it also takes a lot of focus to hear thoughts and not just sense the surrounding emotions.” He responds, confirming my thoughts.

Oh my stars, that means he’s been listening to everything I’ve been thinking about. My face goes red at the thought, heart beat still racing rapidly.

This is ok, it’s fine. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. I repeat in my head until my heart beat returns to normal.

“No need to be nervous; we’ll be there shortly.” Anakin says, whether to reassure me or calm my nerves. Still, after he finished his statement, he made a particularly sharp turn and my hand flew out again. Why can’t I control my limbs today? I assumed I grabbed his arm again, but no; I ended him grabbing his thigh.

“I’m sorry!” I say abnormally loud as I quickly pull my hand back.

Jedi are supposed to be calm and rational, I’m not being any of those things!

“Don’t worry about it; we’ve arrived.” He says, chuckling. I exhale a breath of relief. Finally, I’ve lost my composure more times than I would have liked to on this trip.

Anakin lands the ship in a rather wide trench, easy to land in or make a quick exit in, and we leave the vessel to take a look around the area.

The cold, harsh winds of Hoth howl as we stealthily walk around. We scout the trench, nothing out of place. We look around the surrounding area of the abandoned planet and see nothing but tauntauns.

“Looks like we are going to be walking a lot for this mission.” Anakin voices, a hint of complaint in his voice.

Not soon after, we see one of the wild snow lizards scampering off in the snow.

Anakin turns his head to me and smiles. Oh no. He’s not going to…

He is. He whistles and runs off like he’s going to wrangle horses. He returns on the backside of a tauntaun.

“Only you, huh?” I ask eyebrow raised. He smiles from his position and extends his arm to me.

“For some reason, I’m attracted to you…” I mutter and take his hand. He pulls me up and I sit behind him, arms crossed.

There is no way in the galaxy I’m wrapping my arms around this guy!

“If you say so…” Anakin shrugs and we start moving, fast.

On second thought, I fling my arms around Anakin’s waist and hold on for dear life. If I feel unsafe in an aircraft with this man, what would make me think I’d be fine on the back of a tauntaun?!

We ride around until we stumble upon a cave. We dismount the tauntaun and it goes running. It’ll be fun walking back to the ship…

We creep inside and take a look around the entrance; hands readily waiting on our lightsabers. Nothing. I wonder who said there was something suspicious happening when this is an uninhabited planet… As soon as I make this statement, I see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye.

Was that a lightsaber, a Sith, or something else entirely?

Anakin must have heard my thoughts or saw it too because he’s also on high alert. We draw our lightsabers and move closer to the source. We stalk closer and closer until we turn the corner the color vanished behind to see a family. One child is wearing a Darth Maul mask and the other a Yoda one. They play fight with icicles found in the cave, no doubt. The mother and father are sitting around, trying to communicate with some sort of radio. We relax, hilt our lightsabers and their attention turns to us.

“Are you alright?” Anakin asks the family; concern evident in his eyes.

“Do you need medical attention or anything of that sort?” I supply, searching the eyes of the parents.

“Yes, we are ok; we crash landed a few days ago and our ship has been buried under the snow.” The father fills us in.

“We have been trying to get in contact with someone since then and nothing but static is heard on all of the stations…” The mother says.

“It’s most likely because of the thickness of the ice in these caves combined with the howling winds outside.” I concur.

"Perhaps the damage from the crash discombobulated the device. May I see it?" Anakin asks politely and the father hands him the small metal box, as requested.

Anakin’s hand flies up to his ear at the same time he grabs the box.

“Master?” He calls out, eyeing the device.

“Y-s, A—k-n.” Master Kenobi’s voice rings in the cave of ice; the signal goes in and out.

“There are no Sith here; just a family and children playing as such.” Anakin fills in Obi-Wan.

“U—d-rst—d.” Master Kenobi says.

"Once we are aboard the ship, I'll fix it." Anakin informs the father.

"Thank you so much, both of you." The mother voices.

"Not a problem, ma'am. We'll be heading to Coruscant to inform the Jedi Council as well as get you a new ship." I say, reassuring the family of their transportation.

We take off a layer of our robes and hand it to the family. They happily take it and we start our trek back to the ship.

Multiple minutes later, we are standing above the trench our ship is residing in and make our way down. Anakin climbs down first as to help the family when they reach the bottom; I stay above to help them start their way down. When they are all down, I make my way down to see Anakin helping me.

“I’m a perfectly capable Jedi, Anakin. I can make my way down a cliff of ice.” I say as my foot slips and Anakin catches me in his arms.

“You sure about that?” He questions as the only face he seems to be able to make is displayed across his features. I roll my eyes in response as Anakin is still holding me in his arms.

“You have made your point. You can put me down now.” I say, as the blood rushes to my face, hopefully from the harsh winds and not the close proximity of one Anakin Skywalker. He places me down and we make our way to the ship. Anakin steps in first and myself right behind him.

“Everyone strapped in?” I ask, looking around to see them tugging on their seatbelts and giving me a thumbs up. I smile in return.

“It’s going to be a bumpy ride, so hang on.” I supply, subtly warning them of Anakin’s flying. I make my way to the cockpit to see Anakin in the co-pilot seat.

“Oh?” I question, settling in the pilot’s seat.

“Want to play it safe now that we have passengers?” I tease as I flip and push all the switches and buttons. He only smiles in return, tinkering with that radio as I take off.

Hm, let me try something…

I pay attention to what’s in front of me; but, at the same time, I’m focused on what’s going on in that brain of his… I concentrate. First, I feel emotion; he’s nervous. For what I’m not sure…I concentrate more, and his voice starts to ring out in my head.

I wonder what species that family is. I hope they get back to their planet alright...

Aw, how sweet.

It seems as if some of the gears inside have been knocked out of place. I'll have to unscrew the face to put them back where they belong...

I glance down for a moment to see Anakin unscrewing the "face" of the radio. I then revert my eyes back to the vacuum of space and hone back in on Anakin's thoughts.

There we go... (Y/N) handled that pretty well back there. Who knew a woman in charge could be so attractive... Am I too flirty? I can’t help it, it’s just how I am with her. What if all she thinks I am is a flirt? I don’t flirt with anyone else, despite the rumors, only with (Y/N). Occasionally with Padmé, but only as a joke. How are there even rumors of this sort of thing, Jedi’s aren’t supposed to have attachments… Maybe I’m overthinking it…

Wow, this boy thinks a lot more than I thought he did.

“You are definitely overthinking.” I say as I giggle in response to his thoughts.

“Oh, you’re focused enough to hear my thoughts? How long have you been listening?” He asks, curiousity evident in his voice; though I am surprised at the lack of embarrassment I expected to see.

“Yeah. From your worries of the family to your overthinking. Let me assure you, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m sure the family will be alright and if you haven’t noticed, I like you quite a bit.” I say, eyes trained in front of me.

“Really? I haven’t noticed, especially not from how gorgeous you think my face is or how beautiful you think my eyes are. Definitely not from how you think my physique is impeccable or how you love our height difference.” He states, recalling all the things I’ve definitely thought about him.

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” I stop him before he says anything else.

How long has thig guy been reading my thoughts?

“Don’t answer.” I say, holding a finger out in his direction as he closes his mouth.

“Not even curious, sweetheart?” He asks.

“Might as well say all my thoughts aloud if you can just hear them. 1) The way you call me sweetheart really gets my heart pumping. If you don’t want us to crash, I suggest saving the cutesy nicknames for when I’m not piloting your ship.” I start off.

“2) Honestly, I’m afraid to know the answer. So, no, I am not curious about how long you’ve been listening in on my thoughts like your favorite radio station.” I continue.

“And 3) if there’s something going on here, it can’t. Jedi’s are forbidden from having attachments. Unless you are ok with having a purely physical relationship, this kind of banter cannot continue.” I finish, getting everything off my chest and making my position clear. I turn on autopilot and turn to face Anakin.

“We will be in Coruscant’s atmosphere shortly. Any questions?” I ask, once I have said everything I needed to say. He looks at me, his eyebrows raised. He ponders, seeing if he has a response to any of my statements.

“1 and 3.” He says, stating he has a reply for those numbers as he places the now fixed radio in the glove compartment.

“1) Good to know I have such an effect on you, angel; but, taking into consideration the fact that you are piloting my ship, I guess I can stop.” He begins. Thank the stars.

“3) Even though I disagree with the Council’s attitude towards attachments, I respect your decision to follow their rules. On the other hand…” He trails off. He places his hand on mine and looks me right in my eyes.

“…I believe this kind of banter can continue even with a purely physical relationship.” He concludes, staring straight into the very recesses of my soul. I blink multiple times.

Did I hear him right?  Was he agreeing to the engagement of this kind of relationship?

“Yes.” He confirms by thoughts out loud as I feel the ship land.

“We’ll talk about this later.” I point at him as I turn off the ship and stand up from the pilot’s chair, moving to the area where the family is situated.

What have I gotten myself into?

[thewritingstar]

26&27 with Butch and BC?

26. “Do you ever think?” “27. I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Okay I’ve never, at least I don’t think I have, written in 1st person perspective. So imma try it and you should all let me know what you think. If its good great if not be honest because I trust the opinions of you very much. 

----

This was bad, this was really bad. I thought the situation was under control, Blossom told me it was! But the pounding in my head was becoming too much. 

Of course right when I feel my brain pulsing, Bubbles loud ass had to belt out a sonic scream, in soprano none the less. My hands cup around my ears as the pounding increases. If I wanted to fly, I would be met with even more pain. 

Flying and headaches are a no go. 

From above I can see the monster stand and rush behind the building to be out of sight. 

“Hey Butters.” That voice. 

“Not fucking now Butch.” I scold and thankfully my head lets up. 

I don’t even have to turn to know hes wearing that shitty grin before waltzing his pansy ass over to me. “What ya doing?” He asks in such an annoying matter. Fucking asshole. 

I can only scoff. “Saving the day moron, now get lost.” I try to shoo him away but like a pesky bug, he won’t leave. 

“I know that dumb ass. Red sent me to get you. We got a new plan.” 

My eyes finally meet his. “New plan? Blossom didn’t-”

“Yeah don’t remind me. I’m not sure she even knows what I’m about to do.” His laugh was dark and my shoulders shuttered. 

“What are-HEY WHAT THE FUCK.” My scream is muffled as my body is jolted into the air and-did this bitch just throw me? I can feel the impact of the ground behind me as my head looks towards the sky. 

The stomping of the monsters feet vibrates through my body and my eyes widen as I understand now. Human bait. Fucking great. “Do you ever think?” I yelled as a shield activated just inches from my face allowing for the fire breath of the monster to not roast me alive. 

“Nope.” He smirks before hosting me up like some fucking rag doll, yeah my boyfriend was absolutely the kindest. 

So now my face is plastered into his chest and another shield encapsulates us like a bubble of steel. How come he got this cool ass power? Where was mine? Hello chemical X? Yeah thanks for giving everyone special powers but me, fucking douche bag. 

The claws scratch at the dome and I can just see the moment where we become cat posts for the overgrown lizard. I may have super powers but I don’t trust this plan, especially since it didn’t come from leader girl. Brick might rival her in almost everything but she had the title of commander and leader for a reason, not his dumb ass. 

“Butch.” I try to reason with a growl. Maybe he’ll drop it so we can get out of here and just blast the son of a bitch but he doesn’t listen but tightens his hold on me. 

“Relax” And in a flash the shield disappeared and reformed smaller around us, barely saving us from another claw. 

This death grip on me doesn’t allow me to get away and even if i could, I wouldn’t be able to tear down the electric green force field.“ I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Above us i hear another crash come down on the shield. The impact made it bubble and I heard his breath hitch. “Just shut up woman. We are not gonna die so quit bitching” He scolds me as if im not the one whose gonna die first if the thing were to fall. 

I can heard the scream of Bubbles again and my head goes back to a violent pounding. I can also hear Blossom scolding the fucking shit out of Brick as they attack he monster while its still occupied with the hamster ball bait that is us. 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“Fucking creep.”

“um yeah i think I can say that about my girlfriend ass wipe.” 

“Well you smell like shit.” Lies. He smelt like fresh pine but he didn’t need an ego stroke, not when we are being useless due to him. 

He lets out a chuckle and I only roll my eyes and don’t even try to wiggle out of his grasp. Its a little comforting knowing that I had the person I trusted most by my side in times like this. 

“They are almost done.” He says and I forget that the only view I have is of him. His face is stern as he focuses on the monster and yeah know, not killing us. One of his arms is stretched to the side to keep the force up and I wonder what it would feel like to have that sort of power at my disposal. 

“Remind me why we were bait and not the blues?” It really wasn’t fair. Bubbles secretly loved being the bait. The way she flew faster than anyone was kinda cool and she had always loved tag as a child. 

“Because Boomer isn’t fire proof and neither is Goldilocks.” And with that another flame of fire hits the surface followed by Blossoms ice and a loud crash. 

It makes sense and soon I feel the breeze hit my back and I never noticed how stuffy it was inside. Butch still has a hold on me before pressing a small kiss to my lips. “See. I wouldn’t let ya die babe.” He winks and I wanna hide my smile but I can’t.

“Yeah whatever.” I lightly smack his arm before he finally releases me. “Still sucks we couldn’t do anything, or at least I couldn’t” 

He wants to respond but before his mouth can open a large pink blast sends him flying into the nearest building with a loud crash.  

“DO NOT EVER DO THAT AGAIN BUTCH!” Blossom yells before turning towards me and grabbing my cheeks. “Oh Buttercup I’m so sorry, someone.” She glares at her boyfriend who is sitting on the sidewalk pouting next to his blue eyed brother who looks like he is gonna cry, poor dude. “Decided to use you as bait and I for one did not agree because you could of just smashed that monster and we could have been done with it.” 

I bit back a laugh before hugging her. “Its okay Pink, you saved the day so all is well.” She huffs and nods. 

“I guess so but it was still dumb. I am surprised you didn’t try to kill Butch.” 

I looked towards where she sent him flying and he finally stands up from the rubble with a thumbs up and I laugh out loud this time. “Yeah but I trust him. Now Im going to go see if he’s alright and maybe you should deal with your puppy dog.”

Blossom smiles softly before turning. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” 

“Me too.” And I mange to get to my boyfriend who is leaning against the rubble. 

“Sup babe.” He has a cut on his forehead and I swipe away the blood. 

“Looks like you got a good beating.”

“At this point I don’t know who the real monster is.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Blossom yells from fifteen feet away. 

“GOOD!” He yells back with a smile. “I’m her favorite.” 

I snort before he throws an arm around me. “Well Boomers my favorite.” I joke. 

“THANK YOU.” We hear Boomer shout before Blossom tells him he is still on time out and not even Bubbles puppy eyes can make her reconsider. 

We both laugh. ‘So wanna go get a milkshake?” He asks. 

“Sounds good as long as you never use me as bait again.” 

“no promises.”

“Ass wipe.”

“Bitch” 

“i love you.”

“I love you too.” 

-----

Hi heres me never writing 1st perspective ever again cause its TRASH!!!! Also i think they would be in high school or maybe 19 in this? idk your choice but anon im sorry if this was trash. 

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 21 - Hydra

While the dragon's away, the kobolds will... commit shenanigans. (1908 words)

Just outside of a wide, rocky cave, a dozen distraught kobolds of all sorts of horns and colors surrounded a blue-scaled dragon. Four kobolds sat patiently in bags hanging off the dragon's side, along with several of his favorite things.

"I'll just be gone a week or two," he said in a soft voice that clashed with his outward appearance of tough scales and sharp claws, "the festival is not something I want to miss, and I can take the opportunity to start these four on their new task." The little lizards in the bags chirped their enthusiasm.

A teal kobold with short, rounded horns approached. "But what if someone comes to steal from your hoard?" she asked.

"Then you shall stop them," came his calm answer. "The VitAzurel den does a fine job working together; why, losing a kobold is rare for us, AND it's rather uncommon for me to have to face adventurers, myself, unless I particularly want to." The dragon turned and carefully stepped over a couple of his kobolds, preparing to take off. "Oh, and if - not when, but if - you do lose a part of my hoard, make sure to note what the thieves look like. I'm much more lenient on a full stomach, after all." With that, he sprang off of powerful legs, flapping his broad, blue wings to soar towards the nearest friendly town.

The twelve remaining kobolds looked at each other. "So... we have our assignment," started the teal one, "we just need to figure out how to guard our lord's hoard."

"A dragon's hoard is best guarded by a dragon," a white-scaled one pointed out, only for a red one to interrupt, "but Azurel isn't here, and another dragon might try to claim it for themselves. So his hoard can't be guarded by a dragon."

They chatted amongst themselves, offering ideas for traps and encounters to dissuade or kill adventurers. While several were accepted as helpful minor things, and more were discarded out of hand, the kobolds couln't quite come up with anything big. Nothing could beat a dragon guarding a hoard.

Just before the den was going to return, fruitless in finding an idea to protect Azurel's hoard, the black-scaled kobold gasped. The others turned to see a big, eager, sharp-toothed smile on his muzzle. "Guys, what if... what if WE were the dragon protecting his hoard?"

There was a brief period of assorted muttering before the teal kobold came up and placed her hand on his shoulder, two pairs of yellow eyes locked onto each other. "...we're kobolds. We're not dragons. There is a truly insurmountable difference between us and Lord Azurel, and us and other dragons, even though he IS exceptionally amazing." Several kobolds behind her nodded as sagely as they could manage.

The black kobold shook his head, still smiling. "No, not an actual dragon. But Azurel encourages us to be sneaky and tricky to keep unfair fights in our favor, right?" There was a general murmur of agreement, so he continued, "so, we're small, and dragons are big, but there's at least ten of us, and we're scaly like dragons."

"And we have tails, too!" a green kobold helpfully offered from the back of the group.

"So, what if we trick adventurers that we, together, are one dragon?" the kobold continued, undaunted, "we have scaly, we have big, and they'll be expecting a dragon so they'll totally believe us!" His tail whipped back and forth in excitement. This got the group talking, some of them planning out a costume, others just gossipping about the mimic that Teal was getting to be a little too close friends with.

"We don't have a breath weapon or wings!" one pointed out, but another called out, "multiple heads! Our fake dragon's breath weapon will be more bites than a silly adventurer coul possibly imagine!" A cheer went up, and, invigorated, the den of kobolds hurried back into the depths of Azurel's lair to work on the disguise.

---

The white-scaled kobold pushed away from her part of the costume, dangling from the ceiling by a rope. "Okay, how's this?"

The green, black, and teal kobolds wriggled into position, drawing the aperture of the necks closed around their own. They looked at each other and tested out their controls, wiggling the heads around and occasionally bumping into each other, then grinned. "Functional and sturdy! I swear, Raktor," the green one said, "if I didn't see you make this in front of me, I'd think you had done some magic on it to get it to work so well!"

Teal turned around and called down to the body disguise, comprised of a kobold per leg, plus one to move the tail. "How's it working down there, guys?" She got several chirps of approval, and the fake, three-headed dragon took a step forward to test. More chirps. "Great! This is coming together really w-"

Suddenly, the group was interrupted by a pink kobold slipping out from one of their small kobold tunnels. "Intruder alert!" he called out, "a human traveler is in the lair!"

The green kobold gasped. "A human traveler is in the lair?" The kobolds looked at each other, gauging how ready they were for their first test of their dragon costume.

"Protect the hoard!" the pink one loudly reminded them.

"We must protect the hoard!" the green kobold relayed, and the eight dragon-bolds maneuvered between the entrance tunnel and the start of Azurel's huge cache of gold, gems, and other shiny things. The other four grabbed weapons and retreated into ambush points, waiting for the interloper to make an appearance.

Instead of the menacing adventurer, armed to the teeth, that they had expected, a young woman with curly, brown hair in a yellow sundress stepped out, smiling brightly when she saw one of the hiding kobolds in his normal spot. "Hey, VitAzurels! It's Penny. Is your dragon around?"

The green kobold opened his mouth to answer, but the black one started faster and replied, "foolish human girl! Your adventure was futile! This Ah-shoo-rell you speak of does NO LONGER exist in this lair!" Hidden claws moved the kobold in a fake dragon neck closer, looming over her. "Now flee, flee before you face the wrath of TAM!" The pink kobold made eye contact with Teal and Raktor, silently assuring each other that nobody else knew that was what he was going to call the fake dragon.

The woman seemed amused by this show. "Oh, huh! I thought he'd be back by now. So, do you kobolds wanna hang out? Feels a shame to waste all the time I spent coming up here, and I'm in a very playful mood."

"SILENCE!" the black kobold shouted. "Do not waste your time here, Penny-girl, for we have clocks numerous and beyond your feeble human brain! And-"

"I don't think that's working," Teal said, "gotta be more direct." She turned to face Penny. "Look. Human. I'm Tam, the dragon who now lives in this lair and protects its treasure from humans."

"Yeah, but you guys know me. If I was going to steal from Azurel, I'd save all of us the time and effort, and just climb down his throat directly."

"I... don't know what 'guys' you speak of, strange human," Teal lied, poorly, "now leave, or I will eat you, as that is what we dragons do to humans who try to steal treasure."

"Okay, then, eat me."

The three kobolds blinked. "What?" they said in near unison.

Penny pointed at Teal. "Eat me. Send me down that throat and into that belly. I don't think you're a real dragon; prove me wrong."

The baffled kobolds looked at each other, then the black and green ones stared expectantly at the teal one. Her scaly hands gripped the controls for her neck disguise. "Uh... okay, then," she said, and dipped down towards Penny.

"Wait, what?" The human took a half-step back and froze in shock. Right when she was above Penny, Teal spun the lever letting her have a snug fit in the disguise. She let go of the controls, reache out, and pulled Penny under her body and into the disguise's neck, pushing her out of the way before taking the controls once more and lifting back up with her green and black denmates.

Penny slid smoothly down the costume's neck like it was a slide, in large part because it was a slide, until she came to a stop in the empty cavity where the leg and tail kobolds stared at her. The human looked at them, rolling onto her back to better see all of the kobolds. "Huh, and from here I guess you could start beating on an adventurer..." she mused, "clever. Anyway, so what do we do now?"

The red kobold glanced around. "Uh... we could undo one of the flaps and let you out through there, I guess." There was a level of tension in the costume that all six of them could sense, but none of the kobolds were willing to break it.

Fortunately for them, Penny was not one of the kobolds. "Let me rephrase, guys and girls. Ahem," she fake-cleared her throat before putting on an exaggerated voice, "oh, heavens me, here I am all alone, deep in a dragon's lair, and hopelessly surrounded by kobolds. I wonder what ever might happen next!"

Purrs and soft growls filled the base of the dragon costume as multiple sets of scaly hands went to grab at her clothes...

---

"...so we only got through her modeling, like, a quarter of the casual outfits you keep for princesses," Raktor explained to Azurel, "plus, when she left the first day, she suggested mixing and matching stuff, so that was us set for the rest of the week. Oh, and yesterday she and Jimothy came over for House-Rules Parcheesi, so Teal and Irnat are almost done cleaning that up."

The blue dragon lifted one of the necks of the limp costume in a paw, peering at the mechanism inside. "Well, I'm glad to see my creativity has been rubbing off on you," he said. "How'd this do versus an actual threat? Looks well-used by now."

Raktor fiddled with her horns, a little sheepish. "Well, actually, only two tried; one ate the brownie we helpfully labeled 'poison,' and the other got mimic'd. It looks worn because we all wanted a go at quote-unquote 'eating' Penny, and she liked the slide." The white-scaled kobold perked up with a wicked smirk as she recalled one more detail. "Oh, and Norak is now called Tam."

"Oh, that's a fun development. Who's best to ask about that?"

"Probably Teal. She and Vernda were closest to him when the thing happened, and Vernda..." she trailed off.

"Doesn't have a way with words," Azurel supplied. "I'll look forward to hearing it from her, then. Now be a dear and get a couple others to put away the bags and the sword Kassar no longer needs." He yawned as he walked through the wide main caves. "Oh, and see if one or two will volunteer for basic shining duty; I'll be napping after that long flight, so it's perfectly fine if they can't get much of my scales."

Raktor chirped and darted off through the kobold tunnels as everyone fell back into normal motion again, the absence of their dragon remedied and new memories passed around as gossip.

[effiethebookworm]

I posted 320 times in 2021

59 posts created (18%)

261 posts reblogged (82%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.4 posts.

I added 131 tags in 2021

#ask - 28 posts

#the silver eye - 17 posts

#ask game - 16 posts

#nerdarians - 14 posts

#silverstars21 - 14 posts

#yes - 10 posts

#tag game - 9 posts

#future reference - 8 posts

#my ocs - 8 posts

#music - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#you're stuck in the early 2010s. you only listen to obama-era jams like gray flowers by the gray havens and hey juliet by tufts beelzebubs.

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

TSE Appreciation Week Day Six

Hi. It is Day Six. No exclamation marks today, for the week is over and it is a sad occasion. I hope you like it. Also, I noticed that I accidently titled yesterday’s post “Day Four” when it’s supposed to be “Day Five.” Oops. 

Enjoy.

Laura Hollingsworth sat down at her computer, fingertips poised over the keyboard. She heard a whine from under her chair, and looked down to see a fluffy dog staring back at her.

“No distractions, Gwladys. Now that the Hiatus Secundus is finally over, I'm writing the script for Chapter 21.”

Gwladys whined again, and Laura gave her a treat.

“Now go sleep or kill a lizard or something. I'm busy.” She gave the dog a little scratch behind the ears, and firmly patted her on the rump.

“Shoo.”

Gwladys left the room. Laura turned back to her keyboard. She yawned, and looked at the clock.

“My, it's a late to be writing, but I want this finished today. I guess I'll just sleep in a bit tomorrow.” she said to no one in particular. She took a drink of water, and began to write.

CHAPTER 21

CLIMB

APEN: *Looks up at Ayran, shocked * Ayran Greenway? Fabled Nedarian architect and designer of Greenway?

AYRAN: *Carswell Thorne grin * The very one.

BERLYNE: *is not impressed * What are you doing here, Mister Greenway, and where is “here” anyway?

AYRAN: We are in an old city that I made centuries ago. It's quite embarrassing, really. Looking at the stuff I made ages ago.. *cringes * Ugh.

JOE, CHARA, AND MARCUS: *run into the room *

JOE: *sees Berlyne and Apen on the floor and rushes over to check on them*

CHARA: Berlyne! Apen! Where have you been all night? We were so worried about you.

MELLY: *runs over and licks Apen's face *

APEN: Melly! You're all right! Thank heaven.

BERLYNE: We went wandering and got lost. Then, *glares at Ayran * this man attacked Apen, so I stabbed him. *is pleased *

CHARA: *is disturbed * BERLYNE, what have I told you about stabbing people?

BERLYNE: *is unremorseful *

JOE: *walks up to Ayran * I don't appreciate you attackin' my so- er- daughter's boyfr- er-- the person to which I am a father figure.

AYRAN: Oh, yeah, buddy? What'cha gon' do 'bout that?

JOE: Nothing, because I am a pacifist. But I will glare at you. *glares at Ayran *

MARCUS: Oh no! Not the glare!

APEN AND CHARA: The glare!!!

BERLYNE: What. The what. Is going on.

AYRAN AND JOE: *have a staring contest *

*music begins to play. Cut to Marcus playing the Jaws theme on the violin he was playing last chapter *

AYRAN: *blinks *  No!!! I have been vanquished!

JOE: Heck yeah ya have! *begins to dance the Cotton Eyed Joe *

MARCUS: *begins to play the Cotton Eyed Joe *

BERLYNE: Daddy? Um- are you alright? CHARA: It's his victory dance, Berlyne. You've lived with him for nineteen years, you know this.

MARCUS: Yeah, Berlyne, even I know that! * continues to play Cotton Eyed Joe, but joins in the dancing.

AYRAN: *is sulking in corner *

BERLYNE: Marcus. You can't play the violin and talk, much less dance. This is impossible, what is going on?

MARCUS: *kindly, like speaking to a very stupid small child* *still playing and dancing* Berlyne, Berlyne, Berlyne. You lowly little mortal. You have hardly seen my powers at work.

BERLYNE: W- Excuse me? MARCUS: You all thought that I was Marcus, a little hipster librarian. No. That form is past me now. I will now show you who I really am.

*a bright light flashes, and a shirtless faun with a red scarf stands in Marcus' place *

MARCUS: That's right. I am Mr. Tumnus!

BERLYNE: I am so confused.  *turns to Apen* Apen, what is going on?

APEN: *is with Chara, over next to Mr. Tumnus. He is making :baby_apen: face.*

APEN AND CHARA: *in unison *  MR TUMNUS?!?! MARCUS: Yes, my children. I am.

BERLYNE: *:shooketh * I AM SO DARN CONFUSED.

IDONY: *enters * What's going on?

MARCUS: Ah, my love. I have shown my true form. Maybe it is time for yours.

BERLYNE: what

IDONY: *sailor moon transformation sequence *  *becomes casserole lady from Velv's trial *  Yes, and I am Casserole Lady!

AYRAN: *horrified * NO! NOT CASSEROLE LADY! *falls over *

BERLYNE *checks pulse * Okay, he's dead. Guys, this is really weird.

EVERYONE – BERLYNE: No it's not!

BERLYNE: AH! I got it! This is a dream, right?

EVERYONE- BERLYNE: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

*the scene goes black *

END.

“Ah!” Laura awoke with a start. She squinted at her surroundings. She was in front of her computer.

“Wow, that was a crazy dream. I must have fallen asleep while writing.” She moved the computer mouse a bit, waking up the screen.

CHAPTER 21

CLIMB

APEN: *Looks up at Ayran, shocked * Ayran Greenway? Fabled Nedarian architect and designer of Greenway?

AYRAN: *Carswell Thorne grin * The very one.

BERLYNE: *is not impressed * What are you doing here, Mister Greenway, and where is “here” anyway?

AYRAN: We are in an old cit

“Huh, I fell asleep mid-sentence. I must have been exhausted.” She turned off her computer and went to bed.

THE END

12 notes • Posted 2021-07-31 18:36:17 GMT

#4

It won't let me tag, but #six fanarts #my art #effie makes a thing #merida #brave #disney

15 notes • Posted 2021-09-09 22:26:29 GMT

#3

TSE Appreciation Week Day One!

Hurrah, my first TSE Appreciation Week is here!! I have been preparing since late May, and I am almost done with all my fanfictions! Here is the first one. It is called Heirloom, like the theme for today. It uses both the Heirloom prompt and family dynamic prompt, even though the Shephards aren’t my favorite family. It was my first ever attempt at choose-your-own-adventure, and it turned out...decent, I think.

Heirloom

In this Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Fanfiction, you are a young Prince Joshua of Cedulan. That's all you really need to know for now, so enjoy!

1.

“Come on, Granpappy!” your oldest daughter Aphera yells from on top of the hill that you and your father are climbing. “Don't you want to sled with me?” Your father, King Amnon, chuckles.

“I'm coming, Aphera. Remember, patience-” she interrupts him. “Is a virtue. I know, Granpappy.” Amnon leans heavily on his cane as he walks.

“Would you like to stop for a moment, Father?” you ask.

“No, no. Aphera needs me.” Although he's only fifty-three years old, many years of ruling the kingdom of Cedulan have taken their toll. His beard is almost entirely gray, and his face is covered in wrinkles. He is tired more and more, although his eyes always twinkle when he plays with his granddaughters. Adara pulls on your gloved hand.

“Up,” she says in her quiet but insistent voice. You scoop her up and put her on your shoulders.

“Walking in the snow is hard, isn't it?” You ask. You crane your neck to see her nod her head vigorously. You are all at the top of the hill now. Aphera is constructing a snowman. Adara pulls on your ear, her signal for down. You reach up and grab her tiny hands.

“Ready?” you say. She squeals in response. You yank her forward, off your shoulders and swing her onto the ground. Aphera, watching, exclaims,

“I want a turn, Daddy!” Amnon interrupts.

“I thought you wanted to sled!”

“Weeeeeelllll, I guess we can sled now and do horsie rides later.”

“What's sledding?” Adara says.

“Here, Dara, I'll show you!” Aphera sits down on the sled. “Daddy?” You walk over and give her a push. She flies down the hill, whooping and calling. Adara's eyes grow wide with jealousy.

“I want to, Daddy!” she whispers. “Wait until Aphera comes back. You can sled with me then.” Aphera trudges up the hill, panting, sled in tow. Her woolly dress, coat, stockings, boots, hair, and even eyelashes are caked with snow.

“I almost hit a tree, but I didn't!” she proudly announces. “Adara, you wanna go with me?” Before Adara can respond, you tell her,

“Since this is her first year, I think she should only go with adults.” Aphera frowns. Amnon walks over and says,

“You can go with me next, after them.” You grab Adara's hand and walk with her to the sled that Aphera dropped into the snow. You plop down in the back, plop your boots firmly into the snow, and tell her,

“Sit here, in the front.” She does, and you hand her the reins of the sled. “Hold on tight to these.” You release your boots, and push off. As you gain speed, you see a wide grin spread on Adara's face. You go over a small bump, and are airborne for a moment. Adara laughs. You are very surprised. Adara has only laughed three times before in her life. As you slow to a stop at the bottom of the hill, she rolls off. She giggles while you grab the sled, sit her on it, and start pulling it up the hill. Her giggles eventually stop, and as you reach the top of the hill, you hear a scream from Aphera.

“Granpappy!” You sprint up the hill with the sled behind you. Adara, quickly realizing that she is extra weight to pull, rolls off the sled and starts running beside you. She is surprisingly fast for a three-year-old, almost keeping up with you. As soon as you reach the top of the hill, you see what made Aphera scream. Amnon is lying on the ground, his face contorted into a grimace. Aphera is standing over him, hysterically sobbing.

“Granpappy, Granpappy, wake up!” You shake him.

“Father. Father, speak to me.” He moans.

If you tell the girls to run for help, and stay with your father, go to 2.

If you try to scoop him up and take him to the palace yourself, go to 3.

2.

“Adara, Aphera, run home as fast as you can and tell the doctor to come here now.”

“But-” Aphera says, but Adara clasps her hand and starts running towards the palace. You put your hand directly in front of his mouth and nose. His breathing is fast and shallow. You look him over. No blood, no signs of an injury. You feel his forehead. Normal temperature. Please, you pray, let the doctor come quickly. At this, you hear the sound of a galloping horse.

“Help!” you yell. “The king is ill!” The horse and rider come up the hill.

“Prince Joshua, are you al-” the rider sees Amnon on the ground. “My King!” You are annoyed.

“Yes, and he's ill. I need to get him to the palace as soon as possible.” The man considers this. “Put him on my horse. I can sit behind and make sure he doesn't fall.”

“Thank you.” You manage to get Amnon onto the horse, and he is quickly taken to the palace. You grab the sled (Adara would be devastated if it was stolen) and run to the palace.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

3.

You start to panic. What am I going to do? An idea strikes you. You roll your father onto his back. He groans softly.

“Hang in there, Dad.” you whisper. You grab him under his shoulders and knees and hoist him up. You stagger backwards for a few steps, startled by his weight. Muscle is heavier than fat, you remind yourself, and he was quite fit.  You start walking down the hill, slowly. You hear Aphera crying behind you, but you can't turn around. Suddenly, you slip on the now-icy snow. Thankfully, Amnon lands on top of you instead of the ice. You get an idea.

“Adara, bring the sled to me, please.” She arrives momentarily with the sled in tow. You roll your father onto it, grab the reins, and start pulling him.

“Tell me if he falls off,” you direct Adara. She grunts in response. As you jog over the snowy hills, the palace slowly gets closer. You are out of breath and sweaty now, and you almost collapse when you reach the gates. A guard with an elegant fur cloak greats you.

“Prince Joshua, how are you?”

“King Amnon, f-fell and needs-needs a doctor.” you manage to pant out. The guard notices your father on the sled, and shouts something. Suddenly, ropes fall from the turrets above you, and two more cloaked guards slide down. One of them pulls a tiny key from inside her jerkin, and uses it to open a hidden door next to the drawbridge. The other guard opens his arms and faces up. You are confused, until a large object drops from the top of the building and the guard caught it. He unfolds it, and you see that it is a stretcher. The guards put him on it, and carry him through the secret door and into the darkness of the palace. You are in shock, both from your father's collapse and the complete preparedness of the guards. You knew that all of them were medically trained, in case of an accident, but you had no idea that they were this good. You quickly remember that you left Aphera and Adara behind. You turn around and see them a few feet behind you.

“Girls, why don't you go to the nursery. I'm sure Mother is expecting you.” They nod, still sniffling, and the guard escorts them inside. You stand there still, almost unable to move.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

4.

As you open the door to the East Wing of the palace, the familiar smell of the Christmas Feast hits you like a mace. The memories of past feasts with your parents and siblings, Isis, the girls. This will be April's first, you think. And possibly Father's last. You manage to get to the royal suite, and into the nursery. As you open the doors, Aphera and Adara rush to your side. Good, they managed to get back.

“Daddy, is Granpappy alright?” Aphera asks. You manage to smile and say,

“I'm sure he will be.” Isis stands up out of the rocking chair, holding April. She hands April to Aphera.

“Girls, why don't you take April for a walk?” Aphera's face brightens a bit.

“Maybe we can teach her how to walk.” You can feel a headache coming on.

“She's only two months old, Aphera. There's-” Isis elbows you.

“Well, you can try. But don't drop her.” They walk out of the room, and you collapse into Isis' arms. She leads you to sit down, and you fall onto the bed. Your throat hurts because the tears won't come. Isis sits next to you.

“Aphera told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” you whisper. “I am a grown man, the crown prince of Cedulan. Feelings are below me.” Isis frowned.

“You were happy when April was born, right?” You nod. “And angry when King Bhatair called you a royal pinnacle of idiocy?” You groan. “Well, those are feelings too. And if you can enjoy happiness and indulge anger, why do you refuse to cry?”

“Weakness,” you hiss, barely making noise. Your throat is throbbing now. “I cannot show weakness to anyone, ever. Not when I'm in battle, not at home, not even alone with you. Weakness is the mark of a coward.” Isis stands.

“The true coward is the one who is afraid of his own feelings. I'll leave you alone.”

Go to 5.

5.

You walk through the halls of the vast royal suite towards your father's room. The last time you had been there was four years ago when your mother died. She had been bloodily assassinated by a man with an ax. He still hadn't been caught, and you sometimes had nightmares about him. As you reach the door to the atrium for your father's room, you notice a few nurses ducking in and out of the door, murmuring to each other. You open the door to the atrium and the doctor greets you.

“Good afternoon, Prince Joshua.” Skipping the pleasantries, you say,

“How is my father?” The doctor's face falls.

“I am afraid that he has suffered a heart attack. He will die very soon, probably this week.” Oddly, you don't feel sad. Just.... numb. Like you are completely detached from the situation. Like nothing exists anymore.

“Oh,” you hear, and realize that it was you. “May I see him?”

“Yes.” The doctor opens the door and ushers you in. The room is rich, filled with deep purples and blues, satin and mahogany. A very old man is lying on the bed. You realize that it is your father. He turns to you.

“Hello, Joshua.”

“Hello, Father.”

“I'm sorry I spoiled your outing with the girls.”

“No, Father. Don't apologize. It isn't your fault.” He smiles slightly.

“I want to give you and the girls and Isis some presents, for Christmas.”

“But Christmas is in two days. Why not then.” He smiles again.

“Please bring them, as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

Go to 6.

6.

“Granpappy, are you okay?” Aphera asks as soon as she sees Amnon. He deftly changes the subject.

“How would you girls like your Christmas presents a few days early?” He asks. Aphera claps her hands. “Yay! Presents!”

Two servants come out of the corner, each holding a small stack of presents. Amnon takes a large one off of the top, and hands it to Aphera. She quickly tears off the paper, and opens the box. Inside are a small assortment of items. On top are a pair of boots, made of supple black leather with golden buckles. They are a bit too large, but you can easily tell that she loves them. She tries them on happily.

“They're beautiful, Granpappy!” “They're a bit large, but you'll grow.” His eyes glow at seeing her so excited. She picks up the next item, a silver locket. She opens it, and inside is a tiny, yet amazingly lifelike painting of her and Amnon laughing together. She gasps.

“The locket belonged to your grandmother's mother, and I had the painting made.”

“It looks just like me and you!” Aphera says with wonder. She puts it on carefully.

“I'll wear it every day.” She picks up the next, and smallest item. It is a tiny key that you have never seen before. “What is this?” she asks. You are wondering the same thing.

“There is an old Cedulanian custom that before a king dies, he passes on this key to the oldest child of his oldest child, unless that child is over the age of fifteen, in which case it should be passed to the next youngest sibling. Joshua,” he says, now addressing you. “I am sorry that I couldn't pass the key to you. I truly wished to, when you were a boy, but the tradition must be followed.” He turns back to Aphera. “This key unlocks one door in the palace. When you find it, use what you find there well. It will help you, if you know what to do.” He winks at her, and she giggles. You notice what Aphera didn't, that Amnon acknowledged that he is dying.

“Thank you, Granpappy. I love you!” She climbs onto his bed, and wraps her little arms around him.

“I love you too, Aphera.”

He gives her a pat on the head, and announces,

“It's your turn, Adara.” Adara steps forward, and receives a smaller box. She carefully unwraps it, and folds the wrapping paper into a neat square. She opens the box, and stares at the contents inside. She pulls out a thin book, and murmurs,

“What is this?”

“This is a journal, cursed by your great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother Melete Dolan to never run out of pages. It has been used by many before you. When you learn to read, read it and let the wisdom of your forefathers and foremothers guide you. Someday, you will also write in it, and pass it on to your children. I gave it to your aunt when she was a girl, but she died as a child.” His eyes cloud over, remembering a painful past. Adara opens to the middle, and a hair clip falls out. It is studded in tiny amethysts and onyx. She holds it up to the candlelight, and the room is instantly filled with tiny rainbows and shimmering light.

“That,” Amnon says, “has belonged to every middle daughter since Alla Jamiese, Melete Dolan's fourth daughter. It belonged to my mother,” he takes a deep breath, “Antigone Shephard.” Everyone in the room except April gasps. It is taboo, though not forbidden, to utter the name of Antigone Shephard. You are shocked. Your parents named you Joshua only because they wanted to break the a-name tradition to distance themselves from Antigone. You had heard rumors that they had wanted to name you Adam, but were too stubborn. Your father continued.

“Adara, that hairpiece holds much history of powerful women. There is a legend that the clip itself holds characteristics of its previous owner. I beg of you, always be careful. Do not allow Antigone's mark to hold power over you. You are young now, and you will forget my words.” He turns to you.

“Joshua, Isis, remind her when she is older.” Adara interrupts.

“Granpappy, if it is so dangerous, why are you giving it to me?” You are shocked. Adara has never uttered a sentence this long before.

“My dear, the legend also tells of the reversal of power. If it is true, you will have the power that Antigone used for evil. You can, and must, use it for good.” Aphera nods, and you pick her up and put her on the bed. Amnon kisses her gently on the forehead, and she smiles. She jumps down on her own, and Amnon beckons for Isis, still holding April, to step forward.

“April. Little April, you will not remember me. So I leave to you my Collection.” Your eyes widen. Every member of a Levantine royal family, Cedulanian, Bellingwrathe, Amethystie, Desdemonian, and so on, has a Collection. Every collection has an object from each year of the person's life, usually on a theme. It was a tradition that the Collection was buried with you, so this was highly unusual. Amnon pulls another box off of the pile and hands it to you. You start to open it, but the king stops you, saying,

“No, Joshua. Let her open it on her birthday.”

“Which one?” you ask.

“The second one after she learns how to read. I left her a note in there. I wish for her to read it herself.”

“Yes sir.” You bow.

“Isis, this is for you,” he says, picking up a tiny box, the last from the pile.

“Thank you, Amnon.” she says as she opens it. She gasps. “Oh Joshua, look!” Inside is a ring, a necklace, and a bracelet. They are all made of pure gleipnir, the most valuable substance on all of Elladess. Amnon chuckles.

“Yes, that is the Queen's Jewelry.” Isis frowns.

“But I'm not-” “You will be soon.” Amnon smiles sadly. Isis side-hugs him. You notice her eyes are watery. Come to think of it, so are yours. No emotion. No sadness.

“Joshua, it is now your turn.” The king shifts in bed, and pulls something off of his belt. Your heart starts to race. You've been waiting for this moment all of your life.

“Prince Joshua of Cedulan,” he says, “I, King Amnon II of Cedulan, now present to you the Silver Eye, cursed by your ancestor Melete Dolan. Use it well, wisely, and mercifully. Never bring it into Nedarian buildings, or use it for evil. Do you promise that you will uphold these rules?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to hand it down to the next heir to the throne when you die?”

“I do.” Your father pulls out a long, purple and silver telescope from a small leather pouch, and bids you,

“Kneel.” You do, and you hold your arms, bent at the elbows, above your head. He places the telescope gently into your hands. The metal is cool, and the telescope is the perfect weight. Lighter than a broadsword, but heavier than a sabre.

“Rise, Prince Joshua, rightful owner of the Silver Eye. You have taken the oath, and it is now yours.” You slowly rise, and your father sits up and ties the case around your waist. Then he falls back onto the pillow, tired.

“Thank you, Father.” You say. “You are tired. We will leave now.”

“You are welcome, my son.” Amnon says exhaustedly.

“Goodbye, Granpappy.” Aphera says, and Adara waves.

“Farewell, my girls. I love you very much.” You herd the girls out of the room, and back to your family's suite. You go down to the kitchens and ask for dinner to be brought up to you while Isis helps the girls into their nightgowns and robes. You return and eat, and then put the girls to bed. You and Isis then go to bed too, although you cannot sleep. You lie there for hours, thinking.

“You can't do him any good by not sleeping.” You are startled.

“I thought you were asleep.” You tell Isis.

“Goodnight, Joshua,” she says.

You take her advice, and fall asleep quickly.

Go to 7.

7.

As soon as you wake, an attendant is by your side.

“Sir, I am sorry to inform you that your father passed away in his sleep.”

“What?” Your mind is foggy from sleep and you don't understand.

“Sir, your father died in his sleep. You are the king now.” The servant is down on one knee. “My king.”

Isis murmurs something next to you.

“Isis. Wake up.” you almost say, but decide to let her sleep. You wish that you could have. You will never be able to again. You kiss her on the forehead, and silently slide out of bed.

THE END

17 notes • Posted 2021-07-27 00:12:26 GMT

#2

reblog if you're a nerdarian

i really want to get an idea of how many of us there are

you can also tag people you know are nerdarians

@aceofstars16 @lady-merian @silverstars21

22 notes • Posted 2021-06-25 11:47:25 GMT

#1

ay mutuals just a friendly reminder to READ THE SILVER EYE DO YOU HEAR ME DO IT NOW

62 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 19:36:20 GMT

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