#look i understand that i am someone with barely any followers on any platform and maybe that influences me here

[wild-at-mind]

I think the worst kind of intra-left arguing is 'look how the people who aren't quite like me don't care about x!' and the evidence given is all about posting on social media. (Lack of it/amount of it, subject matter of it etc.)

[heartfeltwarmth]

𝑶𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒆 - 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆

After surviving the battle with the last Supreme Guardian, Cocolia Rand, most people would have expected the crew of the Astral Express to be in high spirits. While some amount of joy and relief were evident on their faces, Dan Heng could not help but notice the way Stelle’s usual small smile would falter at times when she thought no one was looking.

“This is a lot to ask of you but you and the Astral Express Crew are the only ones I can trust with this.” Stomach dropping, Dan Heng barely had time to brace himself for Stelle’s request.

Read the rest on AO3 or continue down below :3 (3,372 words)

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written for alteanroyals. Fun Fact: When Stelle got impaled by Cocolia’s lance, Dan Heng was the first to gasp and rush closest to where she might have fallen. Bf behavior.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Our children can now finally see the sky!”

“We owe you so much for reuniting our families…!”

More people crowded in the streets of Belobog with loud and happy chatter. In the center of it all, the young and newly coronated Madam Guardian smiled at the now warmly welcomed outsiders. As a young child, she had always dreamed of such an occasion, not the coronation, but rather being able to see the people of Belobog together as one.

With regal steps, Bronya stepped down from the makeshift platform standing in the middle of the Administrative District and made her way to March 7th, Dan Heng, and Stelle. She put a gentle hand on March’s shoulder and nodded at everyone. “You must all be exhausted. The festivities can continue tomorrow but for now, let us all rest.”

That’s when March gave a nervous chuckle. “Is it possible that we can– uh– change hotels or…” She tried to smile harder to make up for any wordless complaint Dan Heng made as he sighed exasperatedly.

“We’re no longer wanted criminals, thankfully, but…” He glanced at Bronya who began to press her lips into a sheepish grin as well, most likely remembering the morning she was ordered to arrest the trio. “I understand March’s concern. I hate to inconvenience you at such a busy time right after your coronation, but is there a different place we can stay for the night?”

Bronya closed her eyes in thought, placing a hand under her chin. “I’m sure arrangements can be swiftly made if we decide upon something… Ah!” The young lady gestured for the three to follow her and soon the crowd behind them dissipated with their last words of heartfelt gratitude.

To the Astral Express Crew’s surprise, they found themselves walking up the stairs that led to Qlipoth Fort. Stelle was the first one to pipe up about this. “Are you sure it’s alright to stay in such an important place?”

At this, Bronya let out a small but comforting laugh. “I am simply inviting distinguished guests to my humble home. Also you three now know all of the Supreme Guardian's deepest secrets, not to mention you are the ones who helped prevent the great calamity the past Guardians worked tirelessly to get rid of. I am sure there is nothing you will find in there that I would want to prevent you from knowing.”

March���s eyes lit up. “So this is going to be even more luxurious than the VIP rooms in Goethe Hotel?! Yes!!!” She pumped her fists up in the air excitedly, earning herself a chuckle or two from just her contagious excitement. “Time to sleep away these eye bags! Dan Heng, you should try doing that too.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Dan Heng gave March a side-eye. “I do not have eye bags.”

“Dark circles, my bad. I could hardly tell the differences between the two when I look at your face.”

“Hey–!”

“Alright now…!” Stelle put both hands behind March and started to lightly nudge her in the direction Bronya was going as she smiled at Dan Heng seemingly in effort to cut between the two before another squabble broke out. “I think this is where we will be parting ways?”

Bronya nodded. “I will have someone take you to your room Dan Heng. I’m sorry ladies. You’ll have to share a room. As grand as Qlipoth Fort is, we are still limited in guest rooms.”

“It’s fine! We’re grateful either way, Bronya. Thank you.” Stelle thanked her, ignoring March’s pout for now, before Bronya waved goodbye at them to retire to her own bedroom for the evening.

“Hmph.” March crossed her arms and frowned at Stelle as they stood in front of the door of the hallway where their room would be located. “You always take Dan Heng’s side and defend him!” She complained before Stelle could even open the door.

Unfortunately instead of feeling guilty as March would have liked her new friend to feel a prick of, Stelle just giggled at how adorable the pink-haired girl was all worked up. It was a bit hard not to spoil her. “I do not. You’re mistaken.”

“Am not! You even tried to offer to keep watch last time when he was the one who suggested it in the first place Stelle! Tell me how that’s not always siding with him!” Try as she might, Stelle’s gentle pats on the girl’s back did nothing much to quell her accusations which Stelle predicted March would forget as soon as she laid her eyes on a comfortable bed.

From a short distance, Dan Heng could hear Stelle make a promise to March to make it up to her somehow which made him sigh. Seriously, that girl was always biting off more things than she can chew. Though…..somehow she still does. Still, too much of anything can be a bad thing. Dan Heng just wished that everyone could keep that in mind, especially Stelle after what he had observed of her so far.

Then Dan Heng picked up the sound of March hollering in success, happy that she was going to receive some special treatment from Stelle tomorrow which she thought she greatly deserved. It made the young man want to roll his eyes. But as he was about to turn and leave to follow a guard that just walked up to him, the look on Stelle’s face made his steps falter.

She looked… upset?

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It had been ten minutes since Dan Heng laid himself down on his bed after taking a long-awaited bath. But even the serenity of Qlipoth Fort did little to quiet down the tumultuous thoughts in his mind, the image of Stelle’s void expression replaying over and over.

Granted, Stelle on many occasions had a more or less neutral look on her face but it never meant she was devoid of emotion either.

Everyone around her had easily accepted that it was just her natural resting face, an expression that often hid another layer of emotion. There were just enough times where Dan Heng caught a slight twinkle of amusement in her eyes whenever Pom-Pom spoke animatedly with her. He was so, so sure that Stelle wasn’t the type to suppress her emotions given that she would make her little funny quips here and there, some humorous enough that even he at times found himself needing to fight the feeling of the corners of his mouth threatening to lift.

Could he be wrong?

Unable to find sleep, Dan Heng reluctantly got up and put on his coat without all his usual important ornaments.

He was just going to go on a quick stroll to clear his head and come straight back to his room afterwards.

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Whether or not the Eternal Freeze had taken over Jarilo-VI, it was still a beautiful planet. From beyond the frosted glass panes that lined the corridor Stelle was treading through, a beautiful moon lit the white snow, the outdoor heaters glowing like festival lanterns in the streets. After the Stellaron had been contained, it seemed that the cold let up even if just a little. The usual storm-covered skies of the night was clear that night for the first time in a long while.

All was quiet and ethereal, nothing like Stelle had ever seen, which made her chest tighten even more at the question of why Cocolia would ever want to trade this world for another. Stelle let her mind wander further as she stopped at the window, wondering what it would have been like to grow up in Belobog. She wondered…whether or not she had a childhood she could even remember.

Remembering Cocolia’s final moments, a hand found its way onto her chest, over where the Stellaron was placed inside her.

The voices that had plagued Cocolia’s mind… Stelle could no longer hear them, nor did she dream of them. Even so, the ashen-haired girl had found herself waking up with a trembling gasp next to a sound asleep March 7th. There were no other voices that woke her so Stelle concluded that it must have been a dream she had forgotten the moment she woke up.

“What if it was something I should remember?” Her own voice echoed in her head with hesitant inquiry. Then her mind alerted her to an incoming presence from behind her. The sensation was soon followed by the sound of a very quiet inhale. “Dan Heng?” For some reason– It looked as if he was more surprised to see her than she was to see him. Her surprise was quickly overcome with familiarity. She offered him a slight grin. “Taking a midnight stroll?”

It took Dan Heng an extra moment before he could find the words to speak. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw a few seconds as he walked down the carpeted hall. Stelle, standing before him bathed under the light of the moon. His breath caught in his throat. They were both much more simply dressed than usual, both in sleepwear and a jacket to wrap around them. But for the first time, he had to dwell in confusion on why having his guard thrown off like this didn’t alarm him as much as it usually did. It was just Stelle. Why was he being so affected right now? Right! Words– Uh–

“Just a short one.” Was his equally short reply. There was a mutual understanding that sleep had escaped them tonight.

Stelle nodded in understanding. “Me too. I thought looking at the scenery might help.” Her head turned from him and back to the scenery. As Dan Heng walked over to where he was, Stelle slightly turned her body to the side to make room for him to share the picturesque night. “Maybe you could take a picture of this for the data bank.” She smiled at him. “Belobog at different times of the day. What do you think?”

It wasn’t a bad idea in the slightest so Dan Heng gave her a slow nod. “I don’t see why not. But I didn’t bring my phone with me.”

“Oh– Ah. I didn’t think to bring mine either.”

Dan Heng shrugged with his shoulders crossed. “March is better at this sort of thing. You can pester her about it some other time.”

To his surprise, Stelle let out a small laugh. “Wow, don’t you two get along great.”

The harmless comment made the young man narrow his eyes. “If by get along you mean to annoy each other to death, then by that definition you are 100% correct.” This earned him another laugh, one that Stelle tried to stifle but could not do so entirely.

“A friendship that transcends even death, huh? How sweet.”

Then for a second, Dan Heng recalled a gray sky, the feeling of mind-blanking horror as he watched a lance plunge deep into their comrade's body. Everyone’s blood went cold at that moment even without all the ice and snow. It was a near-death experience that almost took away the latest addition to the Astral Express before anyone could get a chance to really get to know her, including Stelle herself.

Feeling obliged to ask, even more so after seeing the face she made before they went to their seperate rooms earlier, Dan Heng cleared his throat after a moment of silence. He had to force the words lodged in his throat when Stelle gave him a slightly concerned look. Seriously, wasn’t he supposed to be the one who was concerned here? “Did you really come out here to just admire the scenery?”

As Stelle went quiet, Dan Heng bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, after all they’ve only had known each other for a short while. It was one thing to trust your life to someone on the battlefield, Stelle being a person anyone with a good head on their shoulders would give that trust to.

It was another thing entirely to trust someone with the life that you’re living, the experiences encompassing all the fragments and knots of one's thoughts and emotions. Even Dan Heng knew that he had never entrusted anyone with his life in that way before, leading him to think he was most likely being invasive right now. But in his case, Dan Heng had come to an understanding, a long, long time ago, that his past was a burden that he alone should shoulder. He didn't know what Stelle wanted to do with her burden but he certainly wasn't going to pry for an answer.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He added, murmuring the last few words as he craned his neck away with regret. “I can leave you alone–”

“It’s alright! You don’t have to go…”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened.

Stelle fought to keep a stammer from overtaking her speech. “I really don’t mind the company, in fact I appreciate you asking.” Dan Heng’s body relaxed but in his mind– He couldn’t quite understand why he was feeling slightly light-headed after Stelle stopped him from leaving. “I just wasn’t sure how to tell you in a way that wouldn’t burden you too much. A lot has happened in a short amount of time and I’m sure you’re just as exhausted as the rest of us.”

Dan Heng frowned. “Burden me how?” He was determined to hear how Stelle came to such a conclusion. If anyone had implanted this useless idea into her head…

It was Stelle’s turn to look away, every small movement she made cast a glow from reflecting the moon’s beams. “I have so many questions and well– Since you’re in charge of the data bank…”

Nodding, Dan Heng motioned her to continue.

“I wanted to ask you more about Stellarons but from what I heard from Himeko and Mr. Yang….”

The Stellarons remained to be enigmas. Any information that one could get their hands on about these seeds of destruction, the data bank had already indexed them including the events which transpired after Stelle appeared out of nowhere. The IPC also called them the Cancer of All Worlds, a title that certainly brought about worry to all those who heard it. The gears in Dan Heng’s mind began to click. “Are you afraid… of the Stellaron?”

Unflinchingly, Stelle looked into his eyes and in them, Dan Heng found desperation.

“I don’t…”

She began to slightly tremble.

“I don’t want to end up like her…”

Dan Heng moved closer, cautiously. “Like Cocolia?”

Stelle nodded, her head dipping down seemingly in shame. Her fingers twitched as if they wanted to move across her body and clutch herself, to hold herself from spilling any more than she already had but it was too late. Even in this moment, Dan Heng could see with clear evidence that Stelle was still trying to be brave… yet she was failing. “If… If the Stellaron…” Stelle took a deep breath and tried again.

“This is a lot to ask of you but you and the Astral Express Crew are the only ones I can trust with this.”

Stomach dropping, Dan Heng barely had time to brace himself for Stelle’s request.

“If one day I can’t resist the call of the Stellaron, you have to stop me by any means necessary.”

“A–” The nauseating expression on Dan Heng’s face made Stelle retreat a little. “Any… means…. Necessa- No. Stelle.” His usual reserved nature was nowhere to be found as he frantically caught Stelle by the shoulder. “That will never happen. You are different from Cocolia. You even now walk on the path of Preservation that she failed to as a leader of Belobog, you two can not be any more different.”

As Dan Heng’s words reverberated in Stelle’s mind, she failed to notice the way how both of his hands now held her firmly by the sides of her upper arms as he tried to do everything he could to turn her away from making a final decision once and for all. “But the most important thing is for everyone to be safe.” She tried to explain her reasoning.

Sighing heavily, Dan Heng turned his head away before looking back at Stelle. “I’m the guardian of the Express. It should be me keeping everyone safe, including you. You've already tried sacrificing yourself once.” He then felt a gentle press on the back of his hand where he found Stelle’s fingers lightly touching the hand he had around her arm.

Shoot– When did he start grabbing her like this?? He was ready to admit his wrongdoings and pull away to apologize before Stelle clasped his hand tighter in her own.

Dan Heng’s heart stopped.

“....Stelle?”

“Thank you.” The ashen-haired girl smiled and it was so warm, akin to the golden sun like the ones in her eyes, radiant beams of light to bask under if you ever fell under her gaze. “Thank you so much, Dan Heng. I honestly can’t put into words how grateful I am to you and the crew.” Like her smile, her hand felt warm too but in the way Dan Heng could feel it in his chest even though there was still space between them.

The Eternal Freeze could have gone on for another 700 years and Dan Heng would still have never felt as warm as he did in this moment than he had in his whole entire life.

“You say all of this as if you’ve not done anything for us either.” He found his voice growing more gentle as did his facial features. What was she being so grateful for? Maybe she's just this type of person. “If we continue to keep records of who owes whom what, we’d have an archive larger than the Express itself so forget about it Stelle.”

Her soft giggle in response tickled in his ears like a dancing summer breeze and he felt his hand under hers grow hot. It didn’t seem like she wanted to let go just yet so he didn't move away. In all seriousness, Dan Heng had meant every word he had said but even as she laughed, he had to admit to himself that he didn’t feel the need to correct her. Laughter suited her. “I’ll do more research and share with you any findings we come across. And you win…” Dan Heng sighed as if to prepare himself. He couldn't believe he was deliberately choosing the next words that were going to come out of his mouth. “As cheesy as it is to say this, I need you to understand that we’re a team.”

“Roger that, Master Dan Heng.” Came the witty reply but Dan Heng could tell from Stelle’s smile that the intent behind her reply was just as every bit genuine as his statement to her.

Dan Heng sighed again, but this time with exasperation mixed with a bit of relief as he finally let her go. “At least you didn’t call me–”

“Cold Dragon Young? I put that as your contact name on my phone!”

“You what?”

“You’re really garnering up a solid fan base here, y’know?” A glimmer of amusement appeared in her eyes and Dan Heng instinctively facepalmed.

“Please stop.”

“I also wired you the money I got from selling your picture. Keep up the good work, Dan Heng!”

A blush crept up from his neck, also slightly dusting the edges of his ears. “You really didn’t have to. I’d rather you keep it so I can forget that ever happened. It’s beyond embarrassing.”

Stelle hummed as she tapped her chin to think. “Well, perhaps I should just use the credits to treat you and March to something? Let’s do that tomorrow, how about that?”

Even if Stelle had offered to take only him along, Dan Heng felt like he would have still agreed and somehow that revelation... bothered him quite a bit. Not that he’d ever reveal this thought to anyone. He had to first make sure he didn't catch a fever from being in the Belobog cold for so long.

“That sounds fine.”

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“Yaaawn… Where were you last nigh– Hey, why’re you turning so red??”

[brokebonewritings]

Into the Dark Fire

Sodo x TransMasc! Reader

Tags: 18+, Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Searching for your soulmate, you begin life in new surroundings. How easy will it be to transition from being alone to gaining a new family?

Word Count: 2.8K

Navigation | Masterlist

Chapter 1

Destiny is not a thing that defines you. It is the actions you make towards your destiny that creates who you are.  The words played in your mind throughout the train ride. Your Nonna had given you a journal that her mom had found buried in her backyard.��

She had told you that something had compelled her to save it for you. It certainly was strange to him. You thought about the quote some more and wondered if you had read it in a book somewhere. For some reason it sounded very familiar to you. Like a lyric to a hymn you loved to hear as a child.

As you studied the leather journal on your lap, your fingers graced over the two names printed in the book. Dimitri and Seamus. Two boys who had fallen in love, and were accused of being witches. Such as life was in the 1700s. Dimitri was hanged and Seamus managed to escape the town’s wrath and hid in the woods until he died of the cold winter air. 

‘What a tragedy’ you thought, this boy lived day to day without the love of his life. You watched as the train passed old shops and slowed into the station. The reflection of his face showed the grim expression that was permanently plastered. 

See, you were only 18 years old and had no one left in your life. Nothing really scared you, except death. You never understood why though. You didn’t understand anything really. Like why was this journal’s story so similar to your own. You looked down at the leather booklet and sighed.

You sat quietly reading the journal entries. All composed of sadness, love, and regret. The writer must have put their whole thoughts into this little journal. You looked up as the train stopped to see if this is where he got off at. It wasn’t, but as you looked up a boy got on. Someone you had seen before? No, it couldn’t be. You had never left your hometown before this. The boy looked around for a seat, then by some divine intervention, he locked eyes with you. 

You both gawked at each other even as the train began to move. The boy walked over calmly and sat in front of you. You couldn’t describe him in any way, except for a wonder. You shook your head and opened the journal to the last entry you were on. Halfway through you heard a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“What are you reading?”  You looked up and saw the boy was staring at you. His dark green eyes looked deep into your soul. It was haunting.

“Huh?” You looked down at the booklet. “Oh, just this journal my nonna found.”

“Can I see it?”

You hesitate at first. You didn't even know this person’s name, or if they’d just end up stealing the book. Something does compel you to hand over the small journal. Cautiously you hand over the journal and your eyes never leave the boy's gaze. He took the journal delicately, almost reverently, as if he knew that it held something of immense value. His fingers traced over the worn pages, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face.

"Dimitri and Seamus," he whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and sorrow. The boy's gaze lingered on the names before meeting your eyes again. "Where is your stop?"

"Oh uhm, it's the next one."

"You're going to the church?"

You think for a moment. Was church the right word? It was definitely a form of religion. “Yeah I am joining the ministry I suppose.”

“Well we can walk together. That’s where I live.” The boy smiles before handing back the book. “I’m Rain, by the way.”

“Devyn.” You give a polite nod.

Rain studies your face before quietly testing your name, “Devyn…”

As the train came to a stop at their destination, you gathered your belongings and stepped off onto the platform, followed closely by Rain. Together, you both walked side by side towards the church, your footsteps echoing through the quiet streets.

The sun began to set, casting golden hues across the buildings around them. It was breathtaking. You had never seen anything like it before. Approaching the church, you noticed a small cemetery adjacent to it, its tombstones standing solemnly in rows. The sight sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

As they reach the steps, the priest opens the door wide enough for you to smell the incense inside. The man was tall, and wore dark robes. He definitely wasn't intimidating to say the slightest.

“Rain, you silly ghoul, who is this?” He spoke in a thick Italian accent. It was comforting really. It reminded you of your nonna, and the way she spoke.

"A new sibling, I think." The other responds. "I met him on the train, papa."

"Ah yes! Yes, come in. Er, what was your name again?" 

"Devyn... sir." You state shyly, you were never an extrovert.

"Devyn, yes, Welcome." The old man begins as he steps out of the way to let you both in. "I am Papa Emeritus IV, but you can just call me Papa."

Rain walks besides Papa while you trail behind. The interior was dimly lit, with stained glass windows casting vibrant colors onto the pews. The air smelled of old wood and candles. It was a place of serenity and solace. He led them to a small room adjacent to the main sanctuary, an office to be more precise.

"You may have a seat, we will get the paperwork all sorted for Sister." Papa says to you before turning to Rain. He whispers something into the boy's ear before they turn and look at you for a moment. It was only slightly unsettling, were they talking about you? 

As you look around, you begin to notice that it was not a traditional church. There were dark portraits, and records upon the wall. Upside down crosses pinned above the door. You hear a throat clear before you turn and see Papa closing the door behind Rain.

"Devyn," he begins, his voice low and solemn. "This may come as a shock to you, but the truth is, this church is not like any other. It is a sanctuary for those who have strayed from the path of light." Papa's eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of understanding.

"Yes, Papa... I know." You respond, unable to tear his gaze away from the older man’s mesmerizing eyes.

"Why have you chosen to seek us out?"

"For understanding. I guess I was drawn here, to search for myself." 

Papa hums in response as he sits behind his desk. "We do not get a lot of young people, I will admit. How old are you? 18, yes?"

It was your turn to silently nod, and he smiles before writing on the parchment in front of him. "Tell me," Papa continues, his voice filled with both warmth and curiosity. "What have you experienced so far on your journey?"

"Well, there's this journal," You fidget in your seat. "My nonna found this journal in her attic, and I can't really explain it, but I think it brought me here to find the other half of it."

"Curious..." The priest spoke slowly, "Nonna, you say? Sei Italiano?"

You nod sheepishly, "Si, Papa."

"Good, very good. I believe you will get along just fine then." He says, "Do you have the journal of which you speak?"

Devyn reaches into his bag and pulls out the worn leather booklet, handing it over to Papa Emeritus IV. The priest takes it with reverence, his fingers delicately tracing over the intricate patterns etched into the cover.

"This is intriguing," Papa murmurs, his eyes fixed upon the journal. "The journey to find the other half, you say?"

"Yes," Devyn confirms, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. "I believe that this journal holds a connection to my own story, to my soulmate."

Papa nods thoughtfully, flipping through the pages. The room is filled with a heavy silence as he reads, occasionally pausing to absorb the words written on each page. After what feels like an eternity, he closes the journal with a snap.

"Vieni qui." He says loudly, making you jump in your seat. As if on cue, a tall man comes into the room followed by another shorter man.

You don't notice anything peculiar about the two except for the masks they wore. To cover their identity? Some religions did this as a common practice so you chose not to think too hard about it.

"Mountain, please take our new sibling to the living quarters." Papa asked politely. "And Swiss, could you please take them to see Sister and Papa Nihil"

Both men nod before turning to you and wait quietly. You stand and look at the priest nervously. He smiles and shoos you away. "Go, go. I will see you in the evening."

Something in Papa's kind eyes reassures you, and with a deep breath, you follow Mountain and Swiss out of the office.

As they walk through the dimly lit corridors of the church, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that your journey has only just begun, that there are mysteries waiting to be unraveled within these walls. The air is heavy with the scent of incense, and the sound of distant chanting reaches his ears.

"So Mountain and Swiss? Are those your actual names?" You ask them both.

"It's not our actual names." A deep voice says to your left. You look up towards the taller man and see his mask turned to you.

"What are your real names then?"

"If we tell you, we'll have to kill you." The other man said. Turning your head in shock, it takes a moment for the three of you to burst into laughter. It was like music to Mountain’s ears. It was a momentary release from the weight of the unknown that lay ahead. As they continued walking, he found himself growing more comfortable in their presence.

"So, what do you guys actually do here?" You ask

Swiss thinks for a moment before responding, his voice like melted butter. "We assist Papa with various tasks and rituals."

"It is a solemn duty, but one that we take great pride in." Mountain adds.

You hum in response while glancing at Swiss, noticing the way he held himself with an air of mystery. "And what about Sister and Papa Nihil? Who are they?"

Mountain exchanged a knowing look with Swiss before answering. "Sister is a wise woman with incredible knowledge and-"

"And Papa Nihil is the man who started all of this!" Swiss finishes.

Before you can ask any more questions, you all arrive at a small door. Swiss turns the knob and it swings open easily. It was a quaint little bedroom. A bed, wardrobe, and more space than you ever had.

"This will be your living quarters," Mountain says, gesturing towards the room. "Make yourself at home."

You nod gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It had been a long journey to reach this moment, and now, you were finally here.

Mountain and Swiss linger by the doorway, their masked faces unreadable. They seem to be waiting for something, their eyes fixed on you expectantly. You hesitate for a moment before breaking the silence.

"So, what now? What happens next?" you ask, your voice filled with curiosity.

Swiss steps forward, his voice soft but full of conviction. "Now, my dear sibling, it is time for you to meet Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil."

With that, he gestures for you to follow him out of the room. As you walk through the winding corridors of the church, you can't help but feel a mix of apprehension and excitement building within.

Finally, you reach a large wooden door adorned with ornate carvings. Swiss pushes it open, revealing a spacious room filled with flickering candlelight. Sitting by a fireplace is an elderly woman in a dark dress. Her eyes striking like a cat preying on a mouse.

Another figure sits across from her, an elderly man in white robes. You can't see him very well, but you didn't feel as intimidated by him.

"Sister, Papa" Swiss speaks softly, "this is our new sibling, Devyn."

Sister Imperator's piercing gaze shifts from the fire to you, her eyes narrowing for a moment as if assessing your worth. Papa Nihil, on the other hand, offers you a kind smile, his aging face showing traces of wisdom and compassion.

Papa Nihil, his voice gentle and soothing, beckons you closer. "Come, child. We will not bite, well I cannot speak on Sister's behalf" He chuckles earning a pointed look from Sister.

You obey his command, stepping into the room. The warmth of the flames dances across your face as you await their words.

Sister Imperator leans forward, her eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. "It is not often that new blood finds its way to our sacred haven. Tell me, Devyn, what has led you here? What is it that you seek?"

"I seek answers, guidance... I've been drawn here to find something, or someone." You explain.

Sister Imperator's lips curl into a slight smile, her eyes glinting with intrigue. "Ah, the pull of destiny. It is a powerful force, isn't it? Tell me, Devyn, do you believe in soulmates?"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of soulmates. The journal, the half you possess—the notion of finding your other half feels palpable in this very room.

"Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I believe that somewhere out there is my other half, my destined companion."

Papa Nihil leans forward, his voice carrying a calm wisdom. "You have been brought to us for a reason, Devyn. Are you prepared to embark on this journey? To unravel the mysteries that lie before you?"

A surge of determination fills your chest as you meet Papa Nihil's gaze. "Yes..."

"But first," Sister interrupts. "We must discuss your duties, as a sibling."

You turn your attention towards her and nod. She smiles before taking a piece of parchment off the side table next to her chair.

"You are to report to the Cardinal- er I mean Papa's office at 8am sharp. You will be overseeing his personal library, and needs." She orders, your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"But what about Swiss and Mountain?" You ask innocently.

She tuts, before shooing you off like Papa earlier. "Get some rest, child. You'll be needing it."

You smile at her before turning back to the door. Surprisingly, both Swiss and Mountain were waiting for you at the door, their masked faces tense. 

As you all walked back to your room Swiss places a hand on your shoulder, his voice filled with concern. "Devyn, I need to warn you about something. Sister Imperator can be... demanding. She expects perfection in everything she assigns you."

Mountain nods in agreement. "It's true. She is a formidable figure in this church, and her expectations can be overwhelming at times."

"I understand. I will do my best to meet her expectations."

"And don't worry, we'll make sure you're well taken care of." Swiss assures.

You smile gratefully at both of them, feeling a sense of comfort in their presence. As you walk back to your living quarters, Swiss begins to explain the intricacies of your role as Papa's overseer.

"You see, Papa Copia has an extensive collection of ancient texts and manuscripts," Swiss explains. "Your task will be to organize and maintain his personal library. It is a position of great importance and trust."

Mountain chimes in, his voice steady and reassuring. "Remember, Devyn, our work here is shrouded in secrecy. The information contained within these walls must never leave this sanctuary."

You nod, absorbing their words and feeling a growing sense of responsibility settling upon your shoulders. You understand the weight of this position, not just in terms of maintaining the library but also in upholding the trust placed in you by Papa and Sister Imperator.

As you enter your living quarters once again, Mountain and Swiss bid you goodnight and leave the room. You find yourself alone for the first time since arriving at the church. The silence is comforting, allowing you to reflect on everything that has led you to this point.

You sit on the edge of the bed, taking out your journal and carefully flipping through its pages. Each word holds a piece of your soulmate's story, and as you read it once again the feeling of peace begins to settle within you.

Closing the journal, you set it aside and lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows on the walls, and a gentle breeze rustles through the open window.

You can't help but wonder what lies ahead in this journey you've found yourself on. What secrets does this church hold? What will you discover within these sacred walls? And most importantly, when will you finally meet your soulmate?

As the anticipation stirs within you, sleep slowly envelops your tired body.

Next Part || join my taglist!

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

More pages I have skimmed and tried to compress in a short amount of time. I really don't want to stay longer than I have to, but I think my findings are interesting enough to get your attention.

Transcript of the first and second page: This rock on the first page, does it remind you of the Rosetta stone? This is the Tabula Smaragolina. It's been found according to several myths by Abraham's wife, one dude out of the bible. It's written in Latin and has some hints or rather guides on how to create the Philosopher's Stone, gaining eternal life, healing every sickness, and so on. Some of the key points noted are: - as above, so below - the Sun ist the father, the Moon is the mother - all is being made from one substance - you shall segragate soil from fire - the wind borne you, the earth fed you It basically attempts to explain the macrocosmos as well as the microcosmos and claims everything is connected either way. it was recited especially in the Middle Ages and is used even today in pseudo-science and occultists and even the Lux Veritatis seem to have worked with it. It's written by Hermes Trismegistus, who is an author with a pen name and there's a whole belief made by his collective works someone titled "intermeticism". It's religious texts mixed with philosophical inputs.

Transcript of the third page: This is a paper with a collection of medieval torture methods painted on it. I might have brought the page with me, you know, a woman's gotta collect something before she dies. I made peace with the fact I don't know if I'll get out of here. Anyway. The most important thing here is that the Sanglyph is in the left upper corner with text I cannot read. Maybe it's a pre-Sanglyph or something, but it has these holes and shapes and symbols as the original.

Transcript of the fourth page: Here's a colection of symbols for elements. All of them are still considered elemts today and are in the periodic table. The symbols are more often related to plantes that to elements. I guess all elements needed by Eckhardt are being logged here. He managed to turn one into another, which today is 1) too expensive and 2) involves some atom-knowledge no normal person besides a physics expert know about. I kinda wish I could decipher all his motes, or the LV ones. So much knowledge lost in time and there's barely any I can carry with me or write down.

Transcript of the fifth and sixth page: Say hello to one of the numerous papers I have no idea of! I don't know what that is. Neither his nor the next pages make sense to me. I can only assume, so my tinfoil is as follows: this looks like a wheel of the year? Or some planetary sketch? Could aslo be some measurements taken of some star- or astronomy or astrology-related things. Really I wish I could understand this. The rest of the books contained a lot of writings propably in Angelic Alphabets, something beyond me, so I only included these pages.

I'll have a closer look at this place, I am hearing weird sounds..and I really don't want to go there. I am stalling and hoping to be left alone.

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page: So uhm...after a while I had to move on. I can't be stuck in this place forever. When I walked out I was greeted with a deadly room, I am not kidding you. I made a map to show you somehow where I am so you can dig up my corpse some time...So. At 1 there is a door with a lion, leading to my place. Bascially I stand here. At number 2 are statues of angels holding fire, at 3 are platforms I could jump on if I am insane and at 4 there are two bridges, probably one that fell apart like my current faith of getting through this in one piece. Oh and at the other side at 5 there is another door leading to this room- and perhaps also out.

Someone crossing my way would have to jump on these pillars, climb ladders, jump over giant pits filled with molten lava and somehow survive this while also pulling a lever, at least there is one I can actually see. The lava is far away from me but honestly I wouldn't want to test its temperature. There is literal fire on the ground, it's incredibly hot in here, and I won't and can't go in there. The only open path left is the fucking door at the other end of the room. Shit.

I made two charts with my idas on how to deal with my situation right now.

GO FURTHER:

maybe find out who the fuck went on a killing spree in Paris and Prague

confirm Lara Croft hasn't murdered her friend

see a nephilim/Eckhardt/ a Lux veritatis

GO BACK:

hope I can actually find the way back

all I've done and learned so far is not completed

Lara isn't redeemed

my ellbow that I somehow bruised and that is throbbing was for nothing

won't know if all I gathered is even real

no one will get to read this book yet I'm still alive...

Transcript of the nineth and tenth page: I have been listening to a man and a woman talking. I will try to slowly get down the slide here. not end up as barbecue, and see what's going on. There is a path ahead, and people. I think I am on the right way.

I made it! I made it and only hurt my knees and have run out of first aid supplies so I had to rip part of my jeans' seam and pat the wounds dry. I need a goddamn week of sleep. I picked up some of the talk in between the two though:

Woman: You stole their body parts. Man: As I will take yours! W: *unimpressed, shots fired, running* M: Only I can make the old race flurish again. W: I'll stop you then. M: I killed the last Lux Veritatis. I am immortal. W: *shows him something* Scary, huh? M: It's on me to bring hell onto earth, you mean nothing! W: It's gonna be a real pleasure to shut you up. gunfire

This has to be Lara Croft! I saw a glimpse of her face while hugging the wall. it's her!! This other guy she's talking to is on a platform upstairs. He has a belt(?) on his arm and I think I can see a chest place connected to one arm. This reminds me of this drawing on a man...it has to be Eckhardt!

Shit, I am hiding behind a pillar. There's screams and rumbling and noise everywhere. I'll just listen and once everything goes silent, I'll have a peak. I wish I could be of use, but there is nothing I can do, is there?

Holy shit. He is real. He really exists!

[whenyourlightdims]

I think the only people who follow me are the ones knowing me from my other blogs.

Except that this place is pretty much my void to shout my feelings, but I don't want to make anyones day sad, so I put it under the cut. Just keep scrolling.

I do think about leaving Tumblr. Like, not just a quick thought, I have been thinking that for a few weeks.

Tldr.: Blogs will probably be queue powered, and I only look occasionally in here to check if a mutual posted something cool or contacted me.

Before anything, it's nobodies fault, not the anons or open blogs that sidestabbed me out of the corner.

What drew me back here in the first place was the social aspect I had so many people to talk to! But within a month, many got burned out or had no time to anymore. Then those who still were there moved on to other fandoms. Of course, for something to be that long in everyones mind, Larian sure did a great job!

So yeah. I feel lonely. That's the gist of the whole post here.

The BG3 roleplay community is something I am not able to fit in. I really hoped, I really enjoyed it, I loved drawing little silly comics to what was written. That was what actually got me into drawing comics, and for that, I will be forever grateful. But yes, I really tried and kept successfully failing at it. So either it's my English (not native tongue, so my writing could be horrendous and I don't know it.) Or Ceres (and Tae) are just not someone that fits (everyone I approached) the general taste, which is... unlucky. I don't know. But it is me who is the problem, sadly I will never find out what it is.

In the end, it is nobody's fault. It's a me problem. I am not sure how to tackle it anymore.

Then there is the Galemancer community I adore. The tags and comments on my little switch-aroo Gale videos were genuinely wonderful. Addictive! I was laughing at them loudly and had to explain to my partner, which tags or comments it were this time that made me cackle. Outside of Tumblr, I barely found people who liked him, so it was a wind of fresh air! However, I am out of content for videos I could create, and there are better gif and screenshot makers out there for Gale content. I haven't seen anyone who has yet made the videos, but I am sure that will come too since his popularity is now rising!

But I did pretty much everything I could with the Content Larian gave us, and with me running out of it, the interactions there pretty much died down. I keep reblogging, of course! After all thats what my blog was created in the first place, for me to shout into a void how much I love the wizard, so Gale art, fics, and creations of all kinds are filled in my queue!

Now to the most depressing topic. Art. Well... Art is sadly a thing that never worked on me on any platform. For an artist to be fed the good chemicals, art needs to be seen, and to be seen, it needs to be reblogged or retweeted or whatever the term on each side is. I know my art is not good, nor will it be ever good enough to be considered worth sharing. For that, I am not creative enough.

I love my friends reaction to the art I draw, so I will keep drawing, but sharing it immediately on Tumblr? I don't really feel like it anymore. Especially since I gathered mostly Galemancer and Art that's not Gale or horny Gale related gets ignored. (It really hurts)

Again. Nobodys fault except mine. It was my little Dom!Gale who gave me most followers! They came for the smut I barely provided.

I did get a few Patreons, which is amazing. For someone with disability it made a huge impact, not money wise - of course the money is nice - but more about having people out there who say "your art is worth 3usd a month" does give you a really nice feeling. Like... I am allowed to exist: I am contributing to society. It's hard to explain, but maybe someone out there understands what I am talking about.

Anyway, on Bsky, I cultivated a very small following of people who genuinely follow me for my art and ideas, not for Gale exclusive things.

And yet, I am still here. I am writing this and feel really dumb why I am even writing it. It's clear Tumblr is not my space. Not that any social media ever was. But I guess Bsky is the thing that comes the closest for me.

So yeah. If I am suddenly stopping or the blogs die down. At least 5 followers here can check this blog if they remember, and find this post.

[crowwithguns]

There’s a part of me, that’s appealingly sweet.

This was a request from @GalacticEmpireCadet. Yxavi is their oc, I have no credit in her. Check them out, they are really cool!

My editor/beta was astral thank you so much!

——————

Just outside the platform where the statue of Raiden stood was a small makeshift fur stand run by trappers. Next to the stand was a very small cage, and in it was a small child. no older than maybe five or so, as she was bone thin as she shook. The child was thin, and her fur was spotty and torn. Her tail was thin and ragged. She had several open wounds as well. The stand was just outside the normal market place, but still close enough that it didn’t stand out too much.

**

**

One of the samurai was talking to one of the hunters, as he had spotted the six-year-old holding a cryo vision, which the overheated child was using to help keep her cool as she lay weak in the cell. Her arms and neck were covered in rashes. The man was trying to investigate, as his partner had already run to inform Raiden of the rather strange occurrence of a snow kitune with a vision in the city.

**

It was a normal day for the Raiden Shogun, sitting and listening to reports from her advisors.

She has been trying to be more of a part of present-day Inazuma.

‘And that is why I believe we should-‘

The doors open with a resounding slam.

‘YOUR HIGHEST!’  A young samurai burst through the doors, panting as though they had run the whole way here: "I highly apologize for coming here unannounced, but me and my partner seem to have found a young kitsuna!"

They said it, clearly out of breath.

"And what of it?"

"T-they are being sold."

It seems she may have to take a trip to town sooner than she planned.

 —————

The shogun walks toward the statue of her likeness; she was informed the sale was happening here. She was very unhappy that a likely criminal picked this location.

As she walks, heads turn and conversation stops, all eyes on their archon. Some filled with fear, some anxiety, some awe, some pure respect.

The foregoing samurai was still discussing with the trapper, trying to get him to hand over the child, as the shogun walked up. Raiden notes the clear terror on the face of the child in the cage as, as she believes, she backs away into the back of her cage.

The samurai greets her with barely concealed shock. Clearly, he believed she would send someone to go for her. He was wrong.

"Your highness," she greets him with a quick "greetings" before he explains the situation. She looks coldly at the trapper, causing him to start stuttering off greetings and apologize.

She holds up a finger, quickly quieting the man. It seems no matter how fair she is, mortals always act like this, and the only one who seems to understand her is Miko.

She walks over to the cage and inspects its condition with a cold eye. She binds herself down to the cage and says softly, "I am Raiden Shogun, but you may call me Raiden." "What is your name?" She puts on her kindest smile, doing her best to not threaten the child.

The kid slowly moves her ears as Raiden speaks, her dual-colored eyes finally opening to look at Raiden. Raiden feels a ping of warmth in her The kid was silent for a few seconds, wheezing as she attempted to answer. "Y-y-Yxavi..." she says barely above a whisper.

Raiden committed that to memory, smiling lightly. "Yxavi, Yxavi," she says, as though trying out the name, "that’s a beautiful name." "Yxavi, do you know where your parents or guardians are?" She asked.

Her eyes moved to some pure white pelts with blue streaks that the trapper had on display as her ears flattened. She curled up more as she shook. but she didn’t verbally answer.

Raiden follows the kid's line of sight, her eyes widening. She understands now. Raiden stands and looks at the trapper. "You.  What is your name?" He startles and sputters out, 'Mark Diggins.' She nods coldly and says, "Mark Diggins, I have seen all I need to see. You are here under arrest. Do you have any reason why I should not?"

He stands there in shock before his face turns unreadable. "I am just trying to sell my pelts that I got from Dragonspine. They are a very rare kind, and due to their quality, they are very helpful with shielding from storms and the cold." They stare at each other for a few seconds.

She is in rage, pelts? PELTS??  Those were people! But she can’t let her anger show; she must keep up her emotionless shogun persona. "I mean not of your wears. I mean the child caged in your shop. State.  Your. Defense."  She says it with a sense of finality.

The trapper, 'Mark,' looks a bit shocked; she cares, "That is a live pelt, nothing more than a creature from Dragonspine. Its pelt is still fine and soft." He seems annoyed.

"Upon order of the electro archon, this "live pelt" is under the protection of me." and shall be taken to the grand Narukami Shrine at once." Her voice was booming, startling many customers who were just getting comfortable with her presence. She looks at the samurai, seemingly expecting him to get on the job.

"What of the vision, Shogun?" They say they are unsure if she wants the vision hunt decree order to be in effect.

As she raised her voice, Yxavi whimpered a bit in fear. Upon hearing the whimper, she looks behind her; seeing the kitten in fear, she binds down again to say, "It’s ok, child, I am not angry at you." "All shall be alright soon enough."

She looks down at the shaking child, clutching the vision like a lifeline. "This matter shall be discussed at the shrine, but as of now, she keeps it." Her voice left no room for debate. 

Yxavi seems to be struggling to get out; she is stuck. The samurai nods and walks over to open the cage. He helps the child, who is warm to the touch.

She calls a guard over, stating, "Take this man to the cells, so his trial can be arranged." The guard nods excitedly, seemingly happy to serve her. The guard with Yxavi seems to be struggling; the child’s claws slightly pull on his armor.

Raiden makes a rash decision: "Help your comrade with Mr. Diggins; I shall take the child."

The samurai stares at Raiden with a confused look. "Are you sure, Miss Shogun?" "I can handle her." 

"Indeed, I must speak with Miss Miko; now ride eternal and help your comrade." She said this, trying not to sound agitated. walking over to the samurai to take Yxavi.

The guard nods and hands the child over. Raiden frowns, feeling how warm she is. The kid immediately relaxes in her soft hold, dropping her vision. The guard picks it up and hands it to Raiden. She takes it and puts it in her pocket. 

She begins to walk away, ignoring Mark's yells. 

When the weight of the situation finally hits her, she is just outside the city and has a kid. A kid, while it may be for a short while, is still responsible. Let’s just hope it doesn’t take too long to get to you. She looks around and sees the mountains silhouetted in the distance. 

She looks down at the kid and says, "Hello there. So you come from Dragonspine?" "I have a friend who tells me all about mondstat and dragon spine; he is a bard." She hopes talking about her home will make her happier and explain more. Win win.

Yxavi looks up at Raiden, confusion clear on his face. "B-blood snow," she says. This must be what she calls it. 

‘Hm?’  Raiden hums in thought. "Oh, is that what you called your home?" "That's a very clever name," she says, not fully aware of how to speak to kids. "Well, here we call it dragonspine." She smiles warmly. She has no idea why, but this child makes her so happy.

She nods, yawning, before coughing roughly and badly. Her tiny claws gripped Raiden tight. "T-that’s a cool name." She seems to be sleepy, Raiden notes.

Raiden smiles at her. "Yes, it is; you may sleep; I will be here when you wake," she promises, with every intention to keep it.

The child looks at her with teary eyes and says, "N-no trapper?" She asks weakly, looking around and sniffing at the air to check. 

Raiden nods sadly, "no trappers." She pauses, "I will protect you for eternity." She promises, and she is making a lot of those today. 

The child seems to calm before yawning and nuzzling Raiden's shoulder. Dear her, who could think to hurt this kid?

Raiden looks at her sleeping form, hesitantly patting her head lightly. She can’t help but remember when she had to take him away.

——————

After a while, they make it to the shrine. She would have been faster, but she didn’t want to wake the child. Miko greets them happily: "It’s been so long; glad to see you up and running."

"Miko, I have found a young kitsuna being sold in the city; I need your help." She said it straight to the point, like always. A few shrine maidens gasped in shock.

Yae frowns and nods; Raiden can see her hands clinching. "Bring her here." What is wrong? "Tell me everything." She says it demandingly, and the other maidens look horrified at the way she spoke to their archon. Raiden does not mind.

Raiden nods and walks forward, setting the young child down. She explains all the injustices she is aware of. Throughout the whole thing, Yae looks more and more worried. 

Raiden waits in silence for a while before finally saying, "They were selling her as a live pelt," she says hesitantly.

Yae growls, "She is but a baby for her kind!" "I can only imagine where her parents are!" She says she's grabbing things to treat her high fever and rashes, but she can’t fix her fear or trauma.

Raiden stays silent for a long while before finally saying, "I believe they were killed for fur." She immediately looks away and avoids looking at either of the kitsunas.

Yae sucks in a breath and says, "I thought so." She says coolly, instructing a shrine maiden to bring her a towel and a bowl of water.

Raiden silently places the vision next to her, having already decided she can keep it. Yae looks at it, and then she nods approvingly.

Yae looks over at Raiden. "I would like you to go get me a lot of ice." "As much as you can find, she needs the cold." 

Raiden nods and says, "It shall be done." She will make sure to care for this child; there will not be a redo of him. 

She walks down the mountain much quicker without a child to keep safe and resting. 

——————

About 20 minutes later, a samurai comes with two bags of ice. "Sorry, lady, the shogun has requested that I ask you to let her have a bit of time to look into something." 

Yae takes the ice, understanding what she is most likely looking for.

——————

Raiden is taking a breather; all that has happened today has left her very frazzled.

Walking by the stand from earlier, she sees the pelts. Immediately stopping the guards, she takes the pelts. 

Examining them with a trained eye, they are clearly the parents. She knows she cannot take them to the shrine because of the child being there, so she writes a letter she sends with her fastest crow, telling Miko of her findings.

——————

Yae was watching over the child, smiling as her state had vastly improved. As she was going to change the towel on her head, she heard a loud "CAW" sound. Turing around quickly, she sees a crow with a letter. She opens it to read it.

Dear Miko,  I have been gone for a very short amount of time, but I have found much. I have found the pelts of the parents; they were being sold at the same stand. along with many other furs. It seems Mr. Diggins was very well trained in his craft. 

P.S. Don’t eat the bird.

Yae frowns as she spites out the crow, who staggers away. When the crow returns, the feathers are wet and messed up. Raiden chuckles a bit at the sight.

——————

When Raiden came back, Yae seemed to have been waiting. "You give me a snack and yet say I may not eat it?" "How cruel of an archon." 

Rauden notes the lack of shrine maidens. It seems you wanted this to be private. 

Raiden pulled out a plate of dango, having expected her friends' antics. "Here.  "That was my fastest crow; we could not afford to lose it." Her tone lowered. "I have the pelts; I can show you when we are out of sight of the child."

Yaw nodded and frowned a bit. If anyone knew the pelt was a kitune, it would be Yae.

Raiden takes Yae to a stand at the shrine. Gently laying the pelts on the table, she sadly ran her eyes down and up them. 

Yae gently handled the pelts, stroking them. "I understand you already know what I am about to tell you." She says it sadly.

Raiden just nods, silent. I mean, what can an archon say? ‘Oh yeah!  That horrible man murdered two people and skinned them! No.  You stay silent.

Yae puts the pelts down; it’s clear she cannot handle holding them any longer. "So this child is alone." away from her natural climate. "And being hunted?" Yae asks, but everyone knows it’s not a question.

Raiden doesn’t answer, "What do you say we do?" She asks, and for the first time in years, Raiden is helpless. 

Yae looks down. "I can try and raise her as a maiden of the shrine, but I cannot protect her for her lack of documents and papers, nor for her gift." She says the last part sadly.

Raiden nods.  "That would be best." "I have already bestowed my blessing on her." She thinks for a bit: "I could also train her on how to fight and use her vision."

Yae looks down at the table—and the pelts by extension—with a guilty look and says, "I feel she will be safer with you." "I understand you’re busy, but in my line of work, I can’t have a small child under my tail; she can get wounded." She says this as though expecting Raiden to disagree. And Raiden should; she is an archon; she has no place to be a mother, not after how she failed him.

But she still says, "I see." I will have to make arrangements for her stay. "I will need time to get it all together." Yaes' eyes light up. 

"I will take a break from my duties until then and tend to her; she will take time to heal... "She is still just inches from a grave."

Raiden looks at Yae in the eye and asks, "What of Mr. Diggins?" She waits patiently for her friend to answer.

Yae doesn’t answer. If she were in charge, she would want Diggins painfully executed, but it’s not her choice.

Raiden understands what she is thinking and feeling quickly; Yae couldn’t get the smile on her face fast enough.

It was a few hours after Raiden made all the needed plans for the execution. She now needs to have a trial with the trapper to give the illusion of fairness.

——————

Raiden takes a deep breath. Even though she doesn’t need to, she finds it grounding. "You are being charged with two counts of murder." 1 count of kidnapping Multiple counts of unlawful possession of contraband and a multitude of other charges. "How do you plead?"

"I plead innocent under legal trade and hunting possession." Mr. Diggins seems to have that memorized or rehearsed.

She looks at him with barely hidden disdain. "In which nation has this been issued?"

"Mondstadt, and most recently, I got possession to trade and sell hunted pelts in Inazuma." He seems smug. 

"You may have permission to sell and trade pelts, but that does not explain the other charges you have accumulated." "A hunting license does not mean you can kill people." She emphasized the word "people."

"I hinted the pelts out of the nation." "And in the nation where I hunted the pelts, kitsunes are not recognized as people but instead as animals." He says it calmly. 

The audacity  "That may be true in the other six nations, but in Inazuma they are recognized as citizens." The head shrine maiden is a kitsune. In the nation of Inazuma, you have committed the murder of two people and kidnapped another. Then sold the bodies of the first two. She says, clearly mad. 

He opened his mouth in shock. "How would I have known that the already abstained pelts, which were inspected and approved at port, would be considered people?" He yells

She is now the one to look smug. "You, as a trader in Inazuma, are expected to have read and understood the laws of this nation." Even if I were to let you off the hook for that, you still had possession of a young child. This young child is under my protection and care. "If they were seen as animals here, you would be getting charged with animal abuse and cruelty."

The man looked down, and he could tell there was no way to charm his way out of this. 

"Have you any more contradictory points?" she says; she knew she won. 

"No maam."

She nods and motions to a waiting guard: "You have been found guilty on all charges by the courts." "You shall be taken back to your cell while we discuss your punishment."

He nodded and followed the gaurd. Another gaurd opened another door, and Yae walked in with the child.

Raiden walks over to the two kitsunas and says, "The trial went smoothly." "I really will have to speak with the other archons about Kitsuna rights," she chuckles.

Yae nods a bit as she holds the child close. She clearly cared a lot for her. "I didn’t want to miss the news or help with the decision." "But I did not wish to leave the kit alone with the maidens."

Raiden nods.  "Now all I need is the promise of their archon or leader."

"What do you mean?" She looked confused as Yxavi started to wake up; her vision was not on her as Yae was having it merged with a small headdress-like piece to keep it with her.

"A long while ago, before the archon war, a law was passed so an archon could not execute a citizen of another nation without the permission of the leader or archon of that nation." "Just so all judgments shall be fair." Raiden explains.

Yae nods.  "Guess I should send word for Jean then?" 

Raiden nods “indeed”

3,238 words, 9 pages.

https://quotev.com/story/15707839

[sorio99]

So, the short answer is, no, banning people for criticizing Musk isn’t illegal, just incredibly stupid and hypocritical.

Disclaimer: I am in no way a legal-expert, I’ve just seen people talking about Free Speech for most of my life.

So, the basic summary of Free Speech as defined by the law is this: the government cannot limit, punish, or censor an individual’s right to make a statement through any means, including through arresting them. There are some exceptions to this when this speech would be actively harmful to others (the go-to example being yelling fire in a crowded theater, as the resulting mass panic could lead to people being hurt or possibly even killed).

Now, Twitter is not a government organization; it is a privately owned company which operates a social media platform. Because it is privately owned, Twitter has the legal right to prohibit whoever it sees fit, baring any explicit discrimination laws. Basically, Twitter probably couldn’t get away with banning all black people from its platform (at least, not for long), but it could ostensibly ban any Democrats if it so desired.

It’s important to note, Twitter has banned people before Musk bought it, in some cases without legal necessity. For example, the suspension of Donald Trump’s account, following the January 6th insurrection, was not legally mandated, but instead a decision by Twitter itself, made for its own reasons. This is, legally speaking, completely acceptable, as is Musk restoring his account (again, legally speaking. Ethically is a whole other conversation).

Free Speech in a legal sense does not apply to Twitter, and it pretty much never has. The only way it could apply is if, say, a US President worked with Twitter itself in order to censor tweets he didn’t like. But of course, that wouldn’t happen, right? …right?

Now, Free Speech in a rhetorical sense is…interesting. Basically, while any privately owned platform has the legal right to remove any speech or user it deems fit, many have argued that doing this is harmful or wrong, as it removes a persons ability to contribute to the discourse on that platform. Personally, I think things such as hate speech and active threats of harm should be grounds for anyone’s removal from any platform, but many would disagree, and that’s understandable.

However, one person in particular who has publicly disagreed that this removal is justified is Elon Musk, who has described himself as a Free-Speech absolutist. Basically, he believes (supposedly) that no individual should ever be deprived of the ability to make any statement they want, on any platform they want, at any time. This seemingly includes:

Hate speech

Active threats

Impersonation (more on this later)

Harmful jokes

And pretty much anything you can imagine

Now, here’s the thing: Twitter is a company. It is theoretically supposed to make money, in order to pay its employees, and sustain itself within the market. That’s how capitalism works (Source: I’ve actually taken economics classes). For a social media platform LIKE Twitter, its income is earned primarily through advertisers purchasing ad space on the platform, which users will see, which will theoretically lead to the advertiser making more sales. Again, this is just how capitalism works, and I should know.

Interestingly, advertisers ALSO have the ability to selectively choose where they advertise, in much the same way social media platforms have the ability to choose who uses their services. For example, advertisers may not want to place ads adjacent to material which makes their products look bad, either directly (say, by actively insulting or degrading the product) or indirectly (by making it appear they endorse something considered socially repulsive). This has happened in the past: after Tucker Carlson defended an alleged child molester, numerous companies pulled their advertisements from his program, as they didn’t wish to look like they endorsed someone who would defend a child molester. Similarly, advertisers can choose not to place ads on, say, a conspiracy website which claims mass shootings are false flag operations, which necessitates that website finding other ways to earn money (for more on this, see Alex Jones Sells Supplement Pills So He Can Buy Rolex Watches for further information).

Now, the problem with Musk’s Free Speech Absolutism, which he didn’t seem to consider when forced to buy Twitter, is that, if you make a platform that stops any attempt to censor hate speech, which your own employees point out is algorithmically predisposed to prop up hate speech, then your platform looks an awful lot like it’s endorsing hate speech. And, fun fact, most people in the United States don’t actually like Hate Speech very much (Source: the last four presidential elections in terms of popular vote). And if most people don’t like Hate Speech, advertisers will not want to look like they endorse Hate Speech!

This issue only got worse when, in an attempt to make more money as advertisers understandably pulled away from Twitter after known Free Speech Absolutist Elon Musk bought it, Elon began selling verification check marks for about eight dollars, leading to people being able to convincingly imitate large corporations and high-profile celebrities and politicians. Surprisingly, a website where someone can randomly make a tweet which makes one of the largest pharmaceutical companies lose billions of dollars isn’t too appealing to advertisers!

Which brings us back to the question: can Elon Musk be sued for banning people from Twitter? Again, the answer is no. Not being able to use Twitter is not a violation of the first amendment, nor any free speech law, and so it’s extremely unlikely anyone would be able to sue Elon because of that. The numerous other actual laws he’s broken in the past couple months, sure, but suing him for suspending Jeph Jacques is probably a nonstarter.

However, not only is banning users for making fun of him extremely petty, and not a wise decision for a social media platform, it is extremely hypocritical for a man who claims to be a “Free Speech Absolutist”. It’s basically openly admitting to the world that you don’t actually give a shit about your definition of “Free Speech”, you just don’t have a problem with hate speech.

So no, we can’t sue him, but we can still make fun of him somewhere else.

While im mostly like the equivalent of someone reading a book and only every so often look up from it to focus on the faint yelling coming from my neighbor then getting back to reading, when it comes to twitter being disintegrated by the Muskrat, a bit of a thought just occurred to me

A lot of the twitter bans and suspensions lately were just people being rightfully critical and questionable towards felon must's actions (or god forbid, implying he should pay taxes *gasp*.) As ridiculous as it is, isnt it like, also a violation on peoples right to speech? Yknow like, censorship?

Isnt that, like, illegal? (Genuinely asking here)

If so imagine if every twitter user suspended/banned by him in those circumstancies decided to sue him... that is legally possible right? (Also genuinely asking here)

Now im not saying everyone should do that, esp not those who just cant afford it, but if those who can did... well, the more mud to drag melon rust on the better, right?

Im mostly just rambling here

[itsthewritergal]

I’m not scared - D.M. x Weasley!Reader (ODD ONE OUT)

This part is a little bit of filler, you guys are going to LOVEEEE the next part!! 

part 1 

part 2 

part 3 

part 4 

part 5 

part 6 

“Y/N” Pansy called as Y/N emerged from out of her dorm room

“Hey Pansy” She said gently, following her friends through the Common Room. Y/N barely slowed down as Pansy struggled to keep up with her

“Are you heading to the train?”

“Yeah, me and Taylor want to get a compartment to ourselves” She said simply

“You’re not going to be sitting with us?” She asked

“Not this time” Y/N said knowing that Pansy would be sitting with Draco and she just couldn’t quite bare that, especially not since she hadn’t even spoken to Draco since the Buckbeak incident

“We all miss you” Pansy said quietly “Draco mostly”

“Look I really don’t have the time for this” Y/N said turning her back on Pansy as she jogged to catch up with her friends.

Taylor turned to her with sad eyes

“You haven’t spoken to any of them have you?” She asked

“Not since it all happened” Y/N replied quietly

“Perhaps that’s for the best?” Taylor asked

“For the moment it is” Y/N said “Can you guys go ahead, I need to speak to Professor Lupin before we leave” She said

“Of course! We’ll save you a seat” Taylor said

— — — — —

“Professor? Are you in here?” Y/N knocked on the door to Lupin’s office,

“Yes yes I am!” He said tiredly, Y/N pushed the door open and was greeted by Lupin packing up his things “It must be the day for all my favourite students, after all Harry just left” He chuckled

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” She said sitting herself down on one of the armchairs

“I am” He nodded

“Do you have to?” She asked, as Lupin sat opposite her, his case packed neatly in the corner

“It seems someone else found out about my condition” he paused “and no doubt the owls will come by the morning with concerns from parents”

“That isn’t fair” she said firmly, concern passing across her face. Lupin let a solemn smile grace his lips

“It seems you’re become quite the crusader for justice” He chuckled

“It’s a shame I haven’t been able to save anything” She said

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?” Y/N asked desperately hoping for some good news

“Buckbeak, he made it out alive. It seems he escaped before the executioner could get to him” Lupin said

“Really? He didn’t die?”

“No, and you didn’t hear this from me but he’s gone with a good man. He will be well looked after” Lupin promised

“Can I ask you something?” Y/N said after a moment of silence

“Of course”

“You’re friend, the one who was in Gryffindor when his family were in Slytherin” She started, Lupin nodded gently coaxing her to continue “Does he think all Slytherins are bad?” Lupin let out a sad chuckle

“You know Y/N” Lupin started “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, saying all Slytherins are bad is like saying all Werewolves are monsters”

“But—”

“I know how hard it must be for you, and after seeing your Boggart I understand the stress being put on you right now but you need to understand that there is too much good in you for you to turn to the dark side. When I look at you I see a bright and happy future so promise me that you’ll hold on to that” Lupin said

Y/N nodded slightly “I’ll miss you” She said quietly. The words danced on the air before disappearing

“I’m only ever an owl away” He said “Now you ought to go before you miss the train”

— — — — —

The train platform was packed, students hurrying to get onto the train. Y/N spotted Draco’s blond hair above the crowd, he stood looking at all the first years who rushed around him. He looked sad, deflated even; Pnasy said something to him which drew his eyes to Y/N who quickly looked away. She turned and bumped head first into Cedric

“Little Weasley!” He grinned looping his arm around her shoulders

“Hey Cedric” She smiled, they had grown close after spending hours in the library together most Friday nights when the common rooms were filled with drunk students

“Malfoy’s looking at me with daggers is something going on between you two?” He asked as he navigated them through the crowd and towards one of the open doors on the train

“We aren’t talking at the moment”

“This about the whole Buckbeak thing?” Cedric asked as Y/N stepped onto the train

“Yeah, I told him that I hated him because he wanted to watch the execution” She said

“How are you doing?” He asked genuinely

“I don’t know right now” Y/N answered she paused and looked up at him “Draco’s alway been there and now I’ve  seen a side to him that I don’t like, I don’t even know where we stand right now” She said

“Maybe the summer will be the best thing for the two of you? Some space?” He said hopefully “I hope so” Y/N said “Anyway, I want you hear about you and Cho!” she said changing the subject.

——————

Kings Cross was packed, Y/N hauled her case onto a trolly and begun craning her neck around to try and spot a flash of red hair. It was times like this when she cursed being the short one in the family. First Years ran past her tackling their parents into long embraces, Y/N felt her heart squeeze, Draco would usually be by her side mocking the younger students but not this time. She heard Lucius Malfoy’s voice over the crowd, and she turned her head to spot him along with Draco and Narcissa walking towards the exit of the platform.

“Miss Weasley” Lucius said viciously

“Mr Malfoy” She said through gritted teeth

“I hope you’ve calmed down from our last meeting”

“I wouldn’t count on it, you still tried to take an innocent life” She snapped “But it seems you failed, perhaps you’re not as important as you pretend to be” She smirked as Lucius’s frown deepened

“Watch you’re mouth”

“I’m not scared of you” She seethed “You might be able to fool everyone into thinking you’re terrifying but not me. I see right through your little act” Draco stifled a laugh “Have a nice day” she said turning around and pushing her trolly in a direction, she still hadn’t spotted her family she just needed to get away from the Malfoy’s

Taglist :) @whitewineandpizzapuffs @planet-naptune @thefandomplace @sebby-staan @witch-and-a-half @nojamsonmytoast @seanh-boredom @wanniiieeee @louweasleymalfoy @missryerye

Odd one out taglist :) @loxbbg @haroldpotterson

[thefanficmonster]

What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 

“Come in.“ 

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 

                                                             * * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

                                                             * * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“ 

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[mercurial-madhouse]

Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.

My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.

************

This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.

***

We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.

However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.

Have a great week!

- [redacted] Mods

***

This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.

I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.

The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.

The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.

I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.

I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.

The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.

I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.

So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.

I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.

I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.

Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.

I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”

This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.

In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.

Pain only comes from pain.

The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.

So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.

Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?

I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?

I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.

Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.

They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.

I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.

We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.

Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.

So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:

I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.

Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.

So here, now, is my truth:

I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.

I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.

I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.

I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.

This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.

Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.

So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.

You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hello omg, can I request Sasha with a warrior S/O? Like reader came with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt on their mission and during Reiner and Bertholdt’s reveal, she reveals herself too? UAUAUA it can be angst or whatever you prefer 🥺❤️

I gave the reader the Warhammer titan btw cause it’s my favorite akdkakfkd

Also, it’s a little long, but that’s just ‘cause I wrote out the whole warrior reveal in word form, and it’s longer than I remember lol

With You

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, slightly divergent

Warnings: Gore/graphic description of injury, season 3 spoilers, slight season 4 spoilers

Genre: Angst

Summary: Following the battle at Utgard castle, Reiner stops to have a chat with Eren, and reveals that he, Bertholdt, and Sasha’s s/o are all titan shifters, right in front of Sasha.

Words: 3.9K

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You had no time to process what had happened. Ymir was a titan, Christa was Historia, and Zeke has finally made his appearance.

You sighed and leaned against the rope tethers of the pulley system, regaining your bearings on the platform as you were pulled up and over the wall. The battle of Utgard castle had been tough—and many secrets were uncovered.

So, Ymir was the titan that ate Marcel all those years ago... You recounted in your head, sighing as you held your face in your palms. And now Zeke is here. We must’ve been too long without any sign of progress. We’re in big trouble. If we get back without Annie and Eren, it’ll be all over for us. Magath is gonna—

“Y/n!” A cheery voice brought you out of your slump, and you looked over your shoulder to see Sasha standing behind you, an arm outstretched as an offering of help.

You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, and you slowly rose from your spot on the makeshift elevator, taking her hand and pulling yourself up onto the wall. “Thanks, Sasha.”

As soon as you stood up straight, Sasha lunged at you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, lifting her feet off of the ground as you leaned all of her body weight onto you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay...! I was so worried!” She buried her face in your neck as she spoke, and you wrapped your arms around her lower back, putting your hands on her butt as support so she could wrap her legs around your waist.

You giggled at her, cuddling closer into her embrace. “I’m alright, I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know, but I heard that you and your squad got held up at Utgard castle overnight in the middle of a titan horde, and when we finally got there and saw the tower collapsed, I was so scared! I... I—!” She cried into your neck as you moved a hand to rub small circles on her back.

“I know, I know, but we’re okay now. We had a bit of...” You glanced to the left. Ymir lay unconscious and steaming in the stretcher, a distressed Historia leaning over her and brushing strands of brown locks out of her face. “Unexpected help.”

“Mhm...” She mumbled, leaning into you for support. You stayed like this in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after so long of being separated.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A loud shout caught your attention, and both you and Sasha turned to the source; Connie. “Save that stuff for the dorms! We still have stuff to do!”

“Right...” Sasha muttered, climbing off of you and running towards Connie, helping him haul terrified soldiers over the wall.

You stared in admiration for only a brief moment before your attention turned to your comrades, Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner’s arm was wrapped up in the torn cloth of Historia’s skirt, and Bertholdt was close by, the two of them standing in a solemn, heavy silence.

You approached them quietly, taking a seat next to Reiner. Neither of you said anything. The sudden appearance of the beast titan, or rather, Zeke, had shaken you all. You had been gone for years, and gave no sign of retrieving the Founding Titan. Not only that, but you had lost Marcel and Annie. No matter what, the situation wasn’t going to end smoothly for you three.

To the right, many of the Scouts had gathered around a blonde Garrison soldier. Hannes—his name popped into your mind, as Eren had mentioned him before, while in the 104th. He seemed to be disclosing something to the others, and they looked on with mixed expressions.

“Do you think this has something to do with Zeke?” You questioned. Reiner kept his face buried in his palm, and Bertholdt turned to you with a sigh.

“Most likely.” The tall man answered. “I mean, we saw him. He’s clearly here. He must be doing something with his spinal fluid. Speeding up the process, perhaps.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anxiety, eyes wide. “We’re in deep shit.”

You didn’t respond to him verbally, offering only a huff in solemn agreement.

The group of soldiers disbanded, though many branched of into separate conversations of worry, wonder, and resentment. As they walked off, Reiner stood up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground.

“Eren.” He called out, drawing the attention of the shorter man. “We should talk. You got a moment?”

“Sure, I guess.” He sighed, walking over. You and Bertholdt shared confused and concerned looks. The two of you had long noticed that Reiner had gone a bit off the deep end since arriving at Paradis, so you were wary of what he might say or do next.

“Five years ago, we compromised Wall Maria and launched an attack on humanity.” He spoke, turning his back to Eren, hanging his head in defeat. You looked at Bertholdt, and he mirrored your emotion. Panic.

“I’m the Armored Titan. He’s the Colossal.” He pointed his thumb in your direction when he spoke. “And she’s the Warhammer.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you telling him?” Bertholdt chocked out quietly.

“Reiner!” You whispered sharply, venom dripping from your tone. The three of you had done such a careful job keeping your identities secret from the others, and Reiner just spilled all of it. There was no going back from this.

“We were on a mission.” He continued.

“Stop!” Bertholdt pleaded, but Reiner didn’t waver.

“Our goal was to ensure mankind’s extinction. But now, there’s no need for that. Eren,” He turned to face the shocked and confused boy to his side. “If you want the walls to remain standing, it’s simple. Just come with Bertholdt, Y/n, and me. Do you understand?”

A good look to your left proved that he did not, in fact, understand.

“Understand? What the hell is there to understand?!” He shouted, drawing the attention of a few soldiers. Mikasa stood protectively a short distance away, and Sasha, with her impeccable hearing, turned to face the scene as well. The two of you made eye contact, and your distress must have been evident even at such a distance, because her eyes widened, and she started to make her way over with concern and confusion.

“Listen to me.” To your and Bertholdt’s horror, Reiner kept speaking. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Look, I know this is sudden, but we have to go.”

“Right now?” He exclaimed. “Where would you take me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Internally, you started to collect yourself. This wasn’t ending quietly. Bloodshed was dreadfully immanent. “Just think of it as our hometown.” Your eyes widened. He’s just gonna ask Eren? You thought, astounded. After all this, he really thinks Eren is just gonna follow us? What is he thinking?!

“Okay? So what’s it gonna be? Not a bad deal, right? The chance to avert a major crisis?”

“I’m not so sure...” He muttered. You were surprised he didn’t have a stronger reaction, especially for someone as fiery as him. Perhaps he was still in shock, or denial. Either way, they were teetering on the edge of battle, even if you and Bertholdt were the only ones to sense it.

“You guys!” Armin shouted, waving to capture the attention of you, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren. “Get a move on, we’re heading out!” Despite that, Sasha pushed right past him, closing in to the conversation, standing still now that she was in earshot. Mikasa was to her left, watching Eren with a dangerously protection glare.

Eren closed his eyes, taking in a deep sigh. It felt as if, for a moment, the world stood still. Damn it, he thought, I didn’t want to believe it...

A distant memory flashed through his head. When Annie had been found out, they had discussed the possibility of Reiner, Bertholdt, and Y/n also being shifters, but they didn’t have proof. Was it really so simple, though?

He opened his eyes and placed a firm hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re just tired. That’s it, right? Help me out here Bertholdt, Y/n. Your nerves are shot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“U-Uh, yeah.” Bertholdt fumbled. “It’s the battle fatigue talking!”

“Yeah!” You reaffirmed, luckily being able to exude more confidence than Bertholdt. “You’re just tired. After everything that just happened, I can’t blame you.” You laughed nervously, praying no one saw through your bluff.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Between your bluff, and his shock, Eren took the bait. “If you really were the Armored Titan, what’s the endgame here? We wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. What’d you expect me to do? Say yes? Let myself be kidnapped just ‘cause you asked politely?” Somehow, you found yourself agreeing with Eren on that last one.

Despite Eren’s nonchalant response, a dead silence overtook the air, and Sasha found it as her cue to step forward.

“Y/n? What’s going on here?” She placed a hand on your shoulder, but as soon as she did, you looked back. She gasped at the sight. You looked petrified.

“Right. Not thinking straight, am I?” He finally gave up his ploy, wide-eyed and sweating bullets. “Barely know what I’m saying here. Must’ve gone off the deep end.”

Eren turned his back to the three of you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Deafening silence and still air ensued. You did not move. The clouds cleared, and rays of sun shone down on the stone beneath your feet.

“That’s the problem.” Reiner shook. He chuckled, and shadows covered his face. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’ve been here too long for my own good. Three years of this madness, surrounded by idiots. We were kids. What’d we know about anything?”

You couldn’t help but agree with Reiner on that one. You didn’t want to become a warrior, none of you did. If you knew the atrocities you had to commit in order to have the essence of a warrior, the idea would’ve never crossed your mind.

“Why did there have to be people like this.” He choked, tears pricking his eyes and mouth spread into a wide, ugly frown. “Why? Why did I let myself devolve into such a half-assed piece of shit?”

“It’s too late now.” He lifted his arm out of the cast makeshift cast, and held his arm up, showing the red and bloody bite mark. “Damned if I know what’s right anymore! Who cares? It is what it is. No choice but to face what I’ve done! As a warrior.”

His arm steamed, and shortly after, the skin closed up, blood drying and appearing as if he’d never been injured from the get-go.

“No road left but the one that leads to the end!” He screamed. Eren’s eyes widened as he gasped. He finally understood.

“Reiner! Right now? Here?” Bertholdt yelled back, prepared for anything, despite the beads of sweat that rolled down his face.

“We’re really doing this?!” You echoed, and Sasha looked on with a horrified expression.

“Yes. Right here, right now!” He commanded, marching towards Eren. “We settle this once and for all!”

Mikasa appeared out of nothing in a fraction of second, blades drawn and mind set on murder. She swung her blade at Reiner, who put up his hand defensively as the blade split his hand in half from his fingers all the way to his wrist. She spun around in an instant, and her blade cleanly slashed right across Bertholdt’s neck, who fell to the ground screaming and holding his throat.

He eyes were set on you, and an underhanded swing of her blade slashed a line right across your face. Blood immediately clouded your vision, and you groaned in pain as you were sure you had lost an eye.

She charged at you, determined to finish the job, but her sprint was interrupted by Sasha, who tackled Mikasa at full force, and the sword tumbled out of her grasp as Sasha pinned her down.

“Sasha!” She struggled. “Sasha, move! What are you doing?!” She tried to get up, but Sasha managed to overpower her momentarily, keeping her firmly on the ground.

“MIKASA STOP! PLEASE!” She pleaded at the top of her lungs. Rationally, she knew you were the enemy now, but she’d be damned if she let you die here, after everything the two of you had been through.

“Sasha, you can’t—!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She screamed. “YOU AREN’T GONNA HURT HER!”

Mikasa took quick advantage of Sasha’s emotional state and hurled her off, and she tumbled into a heap a few feet away. With little hesitation, Mikasa reequipped her blades.

But it was too late.

“Bertholdt! Y/n!” Reiner barked, lighting already manifesting around him.

The two of you looked at each other with horrified understanding, and prepared your own transformations.

Sparks of electricity surrounded you, and panic filled adrenaline exploded into flesh. Limbs shot out around you, plus the familiar hardened skin of the Armored, the skinless muscle of the Colossal, and the cloudy white body of your own titan.

Seconds passed, albeit one’s that felt like centuries, and you finally opened your eyes. You stood tall on top of the wall; 15 meters high. To your right, Reiner. And behind him was Bertholdt. Only half formed due to the space, and his lower body ceased to exist. Ribs shot out and dug into the stone, and powerful gusts of steam shot off of his body.

The terrified pawns on the wall stared up at you, mouths agape. But the shock didn’t last long.

The hurricane of steam that came off of Bertholdt started to throw things around, and those who didn’t make quick use of their ODM gear were sent flying. One of those figures, Eren, was quickly swept up by Reiner in the chaos.

It was no use, though. That’s why you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he bit his hand and sparks flew, his transformation queued by a guttural scream of rage.

“Damn you... YOU TRAITORS!”

The Attack Titan formed in Reiner’s hand, fist already drawn back and preparing a strike to Reiner.

In a fraction of a second, you formed a large hammer—your namesake weapon—from hardened titan skin, raising it into the air with a passionate battle cry.

The hammer struck Eren in his flank, and he flew abruptly to the left. You shot Reiner a look, and he looked down in understanding, drawing his arms back in preparation for a charge.

Eren had stood up by the time Reiner had started his charge, and immediately braced for impact—he didn’t have the time to move.

Reiner collided with Eren, and knocked him to the ground effortlessly, his greater size and weight being of good use.

The two wrestled on the ground, and you hesitated to intervene. After all, your weapon was powerful, but imprecise. You couldn’t risk accidentally hitting Reiner. Instead, you turned around, assessing the situation on the wall, where Bertholdt had been unceremoniously shackled.

It seemed no one was brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to approach the colossal in it’s torrid state, and you didn’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful.

But, out of the corner of your eye, a figure swung. Your eyes widened slightly in amusement as ODM gear shot from tree to tree, approaching you at in impressive speed. Hmph. Guess someone is stupid enough after all. You thought.

You were about to swipe them away without a second thought, but you faltered at the sight of auburn brown hair, loosely tied into a familiar ponytail.

You must’ve gotten a little distracted by the sight, because you were suddenly brought back to attention by the figure landing on your shoulder, the hooks of their ODM gear digging into your shoulder, which you assumed were used as leverage mere seconds ago.

You turned your massive head to look at it, and you saw the figure gasp and tremble at the sight. Sometimes, you forgot how terrifying your titan was. But you perked up for a moment, brought out of your violent trance by a familiar face.

“Y/N!” It was Sasha. “Y/n, what is going on here?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, and it came out in a gravely, deep tone because of your titan form. “Sasha...?”

She released the grapples of her ODM to run up and hug your neck—the best she could, that is, with your immense size.

“Y/n! Come on! Why didn’t you tell me! This... this isn’t you... tell me there’s a reason!!!” She screamed.

Turning back to observe Eren and Reiner’s struggle, you sighed internally. It was just like her to get too emotional in a situation like this.

You turned back to Sasha with a sad look in your eyes. Carefully, you brought your hand up to pinch the hood of her Scout jacket, lifting her and placing her back down on top of the wall.

Slowly, you crouched down to her level, meeting her eye to eye despite the pain it caused you to see the heartbroken look in her eyes. Your hand curled around her back to support her, the only kind of pseudo-hug you could give at the moment. Your thumb gently made its way to the top of her head, and you moved it down slowly to caress her head. Tears streamed down her face, the internal conflict being far too much for her to bear.

But a sudden mass to your lower back brought you out of your intimate moment with her. Pain shot up through your body as you felt your back collide with the ground, and your eyes opened in horror. Eren had somehow managed to best Reiner in their scrimmage—and he was after you now.

You started to form the base of your hammer in your hands once again, but a forceful punch to your jaw stopped it’s formation out of the shock and pain.

Another fist made it’s way to your face—and another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear noises. Roaring, growling, and, the loudest of them all, screaming. Though, in your state, you couldn’t discern if it was even you or not.

Eren delivered his last punch with a frightening roar of passion, and your neck twisted at an unnatural angle as your head snapped off the titan body with a horrid, bone-grinding sound.

Your battered body fell out of the nape of the titan, using what was left of your strength to emerge at the last second. It was all you had in you, though, and the last thing you heard was your own heavy breathing and distant shouting as your vision started to vade.

Eren stood up tall, towering over your unconscious body, raising his fists in the air with a triumphant roar of victory, the cheers of soldiers filling the air.

Filled with adrenaline and ego, he picked up your limp body in his hand, dangling your body over his already opened mouth.

He was going to eat the Warhammer—right here, right now.

That is, until a foreboding cracking noise brought his attention away from you. It took a few seconds for him to locate the source. The Colossal Titan.

It’s bones snapped and ground against one another, it’s massive body slowly shifting like a collapsing skyscraper. It twisted, turned, and groaned until it slowly lost it’s iron grip on the wall—and it was heading straight for Eren.

It’s body collided with Eren, and the force of the impact was comparable to that of an earthquake. Smoke rose from the ground as dirt was upended, trees crackling and snapping as chunks of rock flew up and around from the impact area.

The force of the impact sent you flying through the air. It didn’t take any hesitation, though, for your girlfriend to go flying through the air, catching your bloody body in her arms and wrapping herself around you to keep you safe as she hit the ground and slid against the dirt.

She groaned audibly from the pain, gritting her teeth in a feeble attempt to numb the painful sensations. But, her pain suddenly subsided when she laid eyes on you.

Your lower half had been all but obliterated. Your legs were completely crushed and squeezed out like an old container of toothpaste, and blood gushed from your stomach. She tried in vain to ignore the sight of your snapped bones twisting at odd angles and protruding through your skin.

Panicked, she brought an ear to your chest, desperately searching for that steady rhythm of life beating in your chest.

She had never taken a deeper sigh of relief than she did now, overjoyed at the slow heartbeat you clung onto. It was weak, yes, but you were still here. With her. That’s all that mattered.

Steam slowly rose from your stomach as your body attempted to heal your wounds. Even in a situation like this, your body managed to find the strength to start recovering.

She cradled your body to her chest, sobbing out in both relief and distress as you bled out onto her. Her clothes were already stained red, and her hands were sticky with morbid crimson, but she didn’t care. She held you close, as close as you could possibly be without her physically crushing you, catching her breath and calming herself to the sound of your shallow breaths.

It was a short-lived moment, though, as a dark shadow suddenly covered the ground, and Sasha froze with fear with you in her arms. By the shadow alone, it was impossible to tell if it was Eren or Reiner, and she didn’t want to check. She curled around you, crying quietly in preparation of getting crushed.

But it didn’t happen. A large finger instead placed itself on Sasha’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way to observe your injured state. Her body trembled fearfully as she turned to face it, and was met with the Armored Titan.

She wasn’t sure what to expect next, really. It could’ve crushed her like an ant and ran away with you, or worse, separated her and run off with just you.

She didn’t want to be apart from you. Even if it made her a terrible soldier, even if it made her treasonous, dishonorable, and irredeemable, she would stick with you, no matter whose side you were on. Right or wrong, she was staying with you.

Reiner hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just bring a Paradis soldier back, it would be a huge problem down the line. But, his eyes glanced to you. He was certain that if he left Sasha there without you, you would never have forgiven him.

So, he cut his losses and gently scooped the two of you up in his hand, holding you and her close to his chest as he started running—god knows where to. She caught a glimpse of a Bertholdt in his other hand, as well as Ymir, still unconscious and strapped to her stretcher.

And Eren. Somehow, Reiner had the severely injured and incapacitated shifter quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Sasha knew that once people slowly started waking up, the fighting would only continue, but she savored this moment. Even if you were bleeding and hurt, your face looked peaceful. As odd as it sounded, she felt content with you in this moment.

As Reiner ran further and further from the wall, Sasha glanced over his shoulder, watching as the faces of her former comrades as they faded into the background.

I wish somebody cared for me the way Sasha cares about Y/n in this fic lmaooo

[firstofficerwiggles]

Interview with the Mandalorian

Pairing: Mandalorian x Female Reader

Rating: T (future parts will be Mature/Explicit)

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of prior violence against the reader (not described in detail)

Summary: The Mandalorian has placed a want ad for childcare and you decide to answer it. Despite having a questionable past, he decides to hire you.

Word Count: ~5400

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter in a multi-part story of Mando and childcare reader. I love romance so expect lots of fluff, but there will also be some humor, action, and angst, and eventually smut. I’m going for more of a slow burn here -- or at least trying to if I don’t get too impatient.

Link to Chpt. 2

Gif by @bestintheparsec (Thank you! You're awesome 😁)

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Wanted: Childcare Professional

Caregiver needed for toddler for all basic baby needs. Single father with demanding job, odd hours. Position requires living on starship. Looking for someone not squeamish and good in a crisis. Preferred skills: cooking, pre-school teaching, and first aid. Bonus skills: combat training or ability to repair pre-Imperial tech. Interviews at Cantina Manolita, ask for the Mandalorian.

You re-read the want ad as you headed out to the cantina. It started out normal enough, not squeamish was a little odd, yet understandable, but then, good in a crisis and combat training as a bonus skill? Exactly what type of toddler does this Mandalorian have? Still, it’s not like you can afford to be picky, what with your past. You’d been bouncing around from odd job to odd job, each one more terrible than the last. Your most recent job had been cleaning rooms at a very seedy no-tell hotel and after that, you’d rather change 1000 poopy diapers than go back there. Despite your education and years of experience, no one wants to hire someone with the stain of the Empire on their resume. Your only hope is that the Mandalorian who placed this ad will be willing to hear you out and with a bit of luck you won’t have too much competition for the job. Many people are wary of Mandalorians, so perhaps that will keep the candidate pool small. You’re secretly intrigued by the idea of working for one, as all you really know is that they are respected warriors who either stick together in tight groups with other Mandalorians or they work alone. You wonder why this Mandalorian is seeking outside help, must be a special circumstance.

Din watches as a woman in a short red cocktail dress, platform heels, and quite a lot of makeup saunters through the cantina. It’s a lot of look for mid-morning and he’s surprised when she heads straight to his table, leans down to give him a generous view of her cleavage, and coos at him, “You must be the Mando who placed the ad.”

“The ad for childcare? Yes.” Din emphasizes the word to be certain she’s answering the correct posting.

“Yep! That’s why I’m here, baby.” She winks at him and plops herself down in his booth, ignoring the chair placed directly across from him. Baby? He’s a bit taken aback, but he figures he should at least ask her some questions about the job.

“Do you have any experience caring for children?” He begins.

“Well, not exactly for children, but I am very, very caring. I’m sure I can take really good care of you… both.” She flutters her eyelashes at Din.

“So, if you don’t have any experience, why are interested in this job?” He feels like this is a fair question, especially since he was hoping to find someone more knowledgeable than he is when it comes to younglings.

“I just have so much love and I want to share it. Especially for someone who needs me, hot stuff.” The woman has been sliding closer to Din as she speaks. He tries to move away from her to keep some space between them, but with the child napping on the end of the booth next to him, he really has nowhere to go.

“Uh, ok, do you have any experience with teaching?” This interview is not off to a good start, but what if she’s the only one who shows up?

“Oh, I’m a real good teacher,” the woman replies, and then drops her hand onto his thigh just above the beskar plate and gives it a squeeze, “I’m sure I could teach you a few things,” she says suggestively.

“We’re done here. I need childcare, not, whatever it is you’re offering.” Din lifts her hand off his leg abruptly, scoops up the child, and quickly moves himself across the cantina to another table. Who shows up to a childcare interview to hit on the father? He’s annoyed at her for wasting his time. He sees the woman pouting and then watches as she gets up with a little stumble, calls out, “Your loss” in his direction and heads to the bar. Under the helmet he rolls his eyes; the next person has to be better than her.

Din has become increasing fatigued and desperate for some help as he takes care of his foundling and searches for information on the Jedi. That alone would be plenty to keep him occupied, but he’s still hunting down bounties too in order to keep them in credits for all the fuel they’re burning up as they traverse the galaxy. Although he’s been able to keep the kid with him all the time so far, it’s not easy to hunt with a baby along for the ride, and he wishes he had someone he could trust to stay with the little one on the ship, keeping him safe and hidden away. After all, they’re still on the run from the ex-Imps and other hunters. Oh, and not to mention, Din is still dodging New Republic officers for that mess on the prison ship. No wonder he’s exhausted.

Sighing lightly, he reminds himself that he’s going to find the help he needs today when he sees a young woman, much more conservatively dressed, giving him furtive glances across the cantina. Din gives her a little nod, and she makes her way over to the table, but she barely takes her eyes off the ground as she does so.

“Are you interested in the childcare job?” Din asks, hopefully.

“Y-yes, I’m h-here to interview.” She seems extremely nervous and can’t seem to bring herself to look at his visor for more than a moment. “I l-like children, um, I have done, um, a lot of b-babysitting.”

“That’s good,” Din says softly, trying to put her at ease, “Can you tell me more about what you did as a babysitter?”

Looking down at the table, she replies shakily, “W-watching them, um oh, I don’t know, uh playing games, making snacks, um just, um, helping, I guess?”

Maker, she’s so uncomfortable, Din wonders what he can say to help her calm down or if it’s worth it to continue the interview. How is she going to handle their situation, if she’s this nervous at the interview? Before he can think of anything to say, the baby pops his head up suddenly to investigate what’s going on, startling the poor woman so badly she jumps up from her chair.

“Aah!” She lets out a little cry and then stammers, “I-I- I think this was a bad idea. I c- can’t do this.” and runs off.

Din sighs; maybe the third time will be the charm, isn’t that what they say?

“Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll find someone.” He says to the child’s inquisitive expression.

Din has the feeling of being watched and turns to see a well-dressed man hovering near the cantina’s entrance. He seems to be in his mid-fifties, with sort-of a schoolteacher aura about him, but he doesn’t look particularly pleased to see Din. The man stares at him for a moment over a pair of owlish spectacles as if assessing the situation and then finally approaches Din’s table.

“I am here to interview for the childcare position, but I want to be very clear that I am an experienced and sought-after professional.” The man declares to Din in a stern voice.

“I’m looking for a childcare professional, please sit down.” At least this one is experienced and looks like he understands the position.

“I must tell you I am a strict believer in order and discipline when it comes to children, and I do not abide any shenanigans.” The way this man speaks makes Din feel like he’s back in school and he’s been caught doing something naughty.

Din clears his throat, “Perhaps you can tell me about your experience.” The man rattles off a list of schools and families where he has worked; stressing certain names as if Din should be impressed, which perhaps he would if he recognized any of them. Din doesn’t care for the fact that this man keeps emphasizing words like prominent or respected as he speaks of his past, it sounds haughty and snobbish. This guy may have a lot of experience, but his frosty demeanor is off-putting. Still, Din can’t deny that he’s the best candidate so far.

“How do you feel about living on a starship?” Din asks him.

“If the ship is in good working order and the facilities are well maintained, I am sure it will be adequate.” He says the last word as if adequate means appalling, indicating that Din’s home is not an ideal living situation. Din feels his optimism dwindle yet again, as this fussy man will likely turn his nose up at the Razor Crest before he even has a look inside.

“What is that?” The man asks brusquely. Din follows his line of sight and realizes the child has climbed up on his chair again wanting to be a part of the conversation. The man’s tone of voice is irritating, but Din restrains himself as he says, “That is the child.”

“That thing is your child?” He has a look of mild disgust on his face. Suddenly this man’s illustrious qualifications don’t matter to Din at all.

“Thank you for coming, but I don’t believe you’re suited for this position.” Din tells the man, trying to match his haughty tone from before. The man lets out a little ‘hmpf’ but then gets up and leaves the table.

“I’m sorry, kid, I know he was bad.” Din sighs again, “We’ll keep trying.” He despairs that he’s in for a full day of bad meetings, when he glances across the cantina to see a beautiful woman looking in his direction. He gives her a nod in greeting, but he’s afraid to hope that she might actually be here for him. However, she smiles warmly at him and starts towards their table. He feels his heart skip a beat; damn, she’s pretty. He watches her as she moves confidently through the crowd noting that she appears courteous to the others around her and Din thinks maybe his luck is turning.

“Good morning! Are you the Mandalorian who placed the want ad for childcare?” You ask with what you hope is a winning smile on your face.

“Ah, yes, I am. Are you here to interview?” Din feels a surge of optimism; you seem composed and he already likes you much better than the other people he’s spoken to today.

“Yes, I hope you haven’t filled the position yet?” you ask him.

“No, not yet. Please sit down.” He gestures to the open chair across from him. “Can you tell me a little about yourself and why you’re interested in the job?”

You start to introduce yourself expressing a keen interest in children and briefly mention your training and experience as a teacher, when you notice two little green hands gripping the edge of the table next to the Mandalorian. Slowly a small green head covered in soft white peach fuzz lifts up to reveal two shining dark eyes and a pair of giant pointy ears.

“Oh my goodness,” you breathe out in delight, “aren’t you the most adorable child in all the galaxy?” You cannot control yourself from fussing over this little one. You really are a pushover for cute kids, but this one is beyond precious. The child smiles at your words and lets out a happy cooing sound. Totally entranced, you make goofy smiley faces back at him causing him to giggle while you completely forget that you are supposed to be doing an interview right now.

Din watches your face as it transforms itself from an expression of polite professional interest to a look of absolute adoration. Your eyes are sparkling as you look at the child, your smile is positively beaming, and you’ve clasped your hands together at your chest in utter delight. It’s like watching someone fall in love all in one instance. He feels that he could ask you to do anything for the child and you would. He reaches over and picks up the little one drawing your attention back to himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just, he’s so cute, um, what was I saying?” You quickly turn your head back to look at the Mandalorian, trying to remind yourself that you’re supposed to be impressing him with your childcare skills not going ga-ga over his son.

“It’s ok, he is cute.” Din responds amiably, this interview is already off to a better start than the others. You seem like a genuine person to him, someone who makes friends easily, who would be pleasant to have around. “You were telling me about your teaching experience.”

“Yes, yes, so my most applicable experience is my time as a pre-school assistant teacher. I worked there when I was earning my degree in Linguistics and Language Teaching at the main university on Riosa. I always loved that job so much and have really wanted to work with children again.” Oops, first mistake, mentioning Riosa is risky, he has to know of the Empire’s former presence there.

“So did you work with many toddlers at the pre-school?”

“Oh yes, so many toddlers. I’m very good at keeping them entertained with games and stories. I know how to set limits and help them learn about rules. Oh, and I also know how to make many snacks and meals that little children love.”

“He does seem to always want to eat, so that would be helpful.” The Mandalorian chuckles a little at that and gives the child a pat on his head.

“I also understand that children can be messy and I’m really good at cleaning and doing laundry too.” You try to think of what else you can say to show that you’re a good option for him. But before you can, he changes the topic.

“So Linguistics? That’s an impressive choice of studies.” He nods his head as if he approves.

“Thank you, I specialized in language structure and syntax. I speak Rodian, Naboo, Sy Bisti, and some Ubese too.” You hope you don’t sound like you’re bragging but none of your recent employers have been interested in your language skills in the slightest. It’s nice to hear that he thinks it’s notable and you do want to impress him if you can.

“Also impressive. All languages of commerce or politics. That’s very practical.” Again, he sounds like he values these skills. “But you don’t have a career in linguistics now? I would think someone with that background wouldn’t be interested in taking care of a toddler.”

“I truly do love children, and well, things don’t always go as you plan, do they?” You were really hoping to answer more questions about childcare or first aid or really anything else, but it looks like you’re going to have to get to the touchy part of the interview. The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything, and you can tell he’s waiting for you to explain.

“When I finished my degree, I was invited to join a prestigious research group. I thought it was an incredible opportunity, a chance to work with professors and other academics. I had to take several difficult qualifying exams before they even offered me the position, and when I did so well on them, everyone I knew was very impressed. I really thought I was going to do something fantastic. I found out too late that the research group was just a front and really it was part of Imperial Intelligence. I had been living in my happy academic bubble, I knew the Empire was on Riosa but they never paid any attention to the university, and I was too naïve to realize I had been recruited to be a code-breaker.”

You pause there, internally cringing again at your stupidity, and wondering if you should continue or if he is going to end the interview right now. While he’s sitting more rigidly than before, he gives no indication that he wants you to stop, so you decide to plow ahead with your story.

“For a while, I tried to be terrible at the job, pretending that I couldn’t break the codes, that they were too complex for me. I hoped they would think they made a mistake and let me leave, but they saw through the ruse. They punished me, and I knew I had to start doing better or they would likely kill me. So I did what I was told, but only about a third of the time. The rest of the time, I would purposely leave out crucial information from the messages I broke. Or sometimes I would just change it completely. I tried to be strategic and do it without a pattern so they wouldn’t catch on to what I was doing. Eventually though one of the other code-breakers figured out my secret and he turned me in.”

You pause again at the memory of that betrayal. You had thought that Kerrick cared for you. You quickly look up to avoid any tears springing to your eyes and take a calming breath.

“What happened next?” The Mandalorian asks you.

“I was punished again, more severely than the first time. I suppose I was fortunate though, because they deemed I was too valuable an asset to terminate. They didn’t send me back to code-breaking. Instead, they forced me to teach Sy Bisti to a class of officers. It’s one of the languages their droids couldn’t translate. I didn’t try to make trouble again. I didn’t think they would give me a third chance.”

Din watches you carefully as you tell him of your experience with the Imperials. The expression on your face and the way your shoulders have slumped tell him that you’re ashamed of what happened to you. That you feel responsible and likely blame yourself for having been tricked by them. Din doesn’t see it that way though. From his perspective, you were simply a young woman who was manipulated and then abused by a corrupt system.

“Can you start today?” You snap your head up in surprise.

“What? I- I mean yes, I can, but-” you stumble over your words, “You- you want to hire me?”

“Yes. The child likes you and you’re the best person for the job.” He’s very straightforward about it.

“You’re sure? Even with the Empire stuff?” Your words sound lame to your own ears, but you need to be certain he won’t hold it against you.

He gives you a brisk nod. “You were brave to try to sabotage their intelligence, but also not too much of a fool to get yourself killed.” He’s blunt but his words are a comfort to you in a way.

That seems to be all he is going to say on the matter, as next he tells you about the living conditions on his ship. He explains carefully about his creed and the fact that you can never see him without his helmet. That isn’t a surprise though as it’s one of the only other facts you already knew about the Mandalorians. Besides, after spending time with so many helmeted Imps, it honestly doesn’t seem that odd to you. At least you’ll know this helmet doesn’t plan to kill you. You arrange to meet him in a couple hours at his ship after you’ve had a chance to pack your things. You’re so elated to find someone who wants to hire you for a decent job and who doesn’t loathe you for your past that you completely forget to ask him about the need for combat training.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you’re packing up your meagre belongings it occurs to you that you didn’t ask him anything about himself or really much about the child at all. You realize you don’t even know their names. Maybe you should slow down and find out more about this Mandalorian and his son, but honestly you’re willing to take the risk. You’re sick of this awful city and the terrible jobs you’ve been forced to take here. At least you know that the Mandalorians were enemies of the Empire, so that’s a bonus in your eyes. Besides from the job description in the ad, it seems like this Mandalorian has to be at work a lot so you’ll probably be alone with the child most of the time. You’ve never seen a species like the child before, but you’re willing to learn all about him so you can be successful at this job. You gather up your bags, leave a few credits for the landlord, and head to the hanger, enthusiastic about a new life.

Din is watching as crates of supplies are loaded onto the Razor Crest, and he thinks about his new hire. From the moment he saw your reaction to the kid, he knew he was going to offer you the job. His only concern is his own attraction to you, and, he has a little nagging guilt that he didn’t explain anything to you about the dangerous aspects of the job. If you knew the Imps were after the child, would you still be willing to take the job? Din knows he’ll have to tell you about that, but maybe he’ll wait until the Crest is in hyperspace before he does. Yeah, it’s underhanded, but he doesn’t have the time or the patience, quite frankly, to try to find other childcare. Plus, there’s a good chance your knowledge of the Empire will be helpful to him. Din hopes you won’t hate him too much for withholding information. He sees you enter the hanger, and once again you smile when you see him. Din’s pleased that you don’t seem intimidated or fearful. So many people look at him with trepidation or dislike, and although he’s learned to ignore it, when someone actually smiles at him, it’s such a pleasant change. Besides, you have a pretty smile.

“Hello again!” You call out to the Mandalorian, as you make your way towards him. Seeing him standing next to his ship, you’re suddenly struck by what an imposing figure he is in all that armor. He’s quite tall and obviously very strong. A whisper of an emotion runs through you, almost like desire, but it’s been so long since you’ve felt anything like that you can’t really place it. You forget all about it though when the little green toddler spies you and immediately runs right for you with a happy face. You drop your bags and crouch down, holding your arms out to him and scoop him up when he reaches you.

“Hello, buddy! Are you excited to have a new nanny? I’m excited to be here.” You tell him cheerfully as you give him a hug. You stand up again to address the Mandalorian, who’s come over to help with your bags. “I’m sorry, I was so happy to get the job earlier, I completely forgot to ask the child’s name.”

“That’s ok.” He tells you. “I don’t, um, I don’t actually know his name.”

“Beg your pardon?” He doesn’t know his son’s name. You try to keep your expression neutral, but you can’t help but give him an odd look.

“He’s a foundling. I rescued him.” The Mandalorian doesn’t elaborate. You remind yourself that you don’t know much about Mandalorian culture, so maybe that is typical for them. He hasn’t told you his name either.

“Well, what do you call him?” You look down at the little one in your arms.

He shrugs as if it isn’t important, “Kid, pal, womp rat,” he supplies, and in anticipation of your next question he says, “You can call me Mando.”

“Alright.” So, no names then, that’s different, but whatever works for him.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around.” Mando offers picking up your bags.

“Oh, you don’t have to carry those, I can get them.” He just gestures with his helmet for you to go ahead, so you head up the ramp into your new home.

The child babbles to you as if explaining things as you look around the hull of the spacecraft. It’s very utilitarian, but you figured it would be, Mandalorians don’t strike you as the types to think of creature comforts as a priority. The little one babbles at you again and extends an arm towards a section of the hull where you can see what looks like a mattress covered with a blanket and pillows that look new and unused. The Mandalorian comes up behind you and says, “Like I said before there’s only one bunk in the ship, but I thought this would work for you?” He sets your bags down next to the bed.

“This will be fine.” You’ve slept in much worse places, your cell in the Imperial Intelligence compound springs to mind. In any case, it’s nice to know that he’s thought to provide this for you. Other employers you’ve had would probably just make you sleep on the floor.

Din takes you on a brief tour of the ship, mostly making sure you know where the essentials are. He keeps waiting for you to make a comment about the ship’s age or make a joke about it being a clunker like everyone else does. But you surprise him, as you simply take it all in with a pleasant expression on your face. Although when he gets to the weapons locker, he sees your eyes widen in surprise. He realizes that he hasn’t told you what he does for a living, “I’m a bounty hunter, and weapons are part of my religion.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it makes sense you’d have a cache like this then.” You give him a nod, as if to say this seems completely normal, even though you’ve never seen so many weapons outside of a military facility. However, if it’s part of his religion the last you thing you want to do is insult him about it.

“Do you know how to shoot?” Mando inquires.

“Yes, I do. I had to take a course on marksmanship at the university.” You wince again at your innocence back then. A college that requires a course on shooting? No wonder it had been a recruitment ground for the Empire.

“Did you pass?” Mando wants to know.

“With high marks,” you reply, ever the top-notch student.

“Good. Do you have a blaster?”

“Uh no.”

Mando turns back to the locker and considers it before choosing one of the smaller guns in there. He hands it to you saying, “Here, this one should be good for you. But let me know if you think something else would be better suited for you.”

“You think I’m going to need a blaster to care for the child?” You try to keep from sounding incredulous as you stare down at the gun that he’s placed in your hand and then back at the sweet toddler who’s currently propped up against your hip.

“No, of course not, but you’ll need to be prepared when we’re off the ship.” He seems very matter-of-fact about it.

“Prepared for what?” Where does this man plan on taking you?

“Just, prepared.” Is all he says in response.

The baby makes grabby hands towards the blaster and you carefully hold it away from him. “Can I keep it in the locker for now?” you ask feeling a little uneasy. You might know how to shoot, but you’ve only ever aimed at targets in a shooting range and the idea of having to use a blaster for protection is frankly terrifying. What have I gotten myself into? Will I never learn?

“Yes, just remember to take it with you whenever you leave the ship.” Din stows the blaster away again and then says, “We should get going now,” and motions for you to head up the ladder to the cockpit. He probably should have waited to give you the blaster until later. He can see the questions and the anxiety in your eyes and he knows he’s going to have to come clean about the danger he’s putting you in. But sticking to his plan, Din says nothing and focuses on taking off and setting coordinates to Dantooine, the last known position of his next quarry.

You try to stay focused on the child in your arms, but you can’t keep yourself from staring back at Mando. The need for a blaster has brought your original question back to the forefront of your mind, and although it’s pretty much too late to ask now, you figure you should.

“So in your ad, you said, combat training was a plus. Why exactly did you put that in there?”  

You watch as he puts the ship into hyperspace, before he turns to you. You’re just starting at the black visor in his helmet, waiting for him to speak, when he finally says, “There are Imps after the kid.”

“Excuse me, what?” You hope you heard him wrong.

“I rescued the child from some ex-Imperials. They have a bounty out on him.” Din decides to leave out the part where he originally collected on that bounty, delivering the child right to them. He’s doesn’t want you to despise him so he figures he’ll keep that part of the story to himself.

“What do they want with him?” You’re still holding the little one tight, and you look down into his big, dark eyes and wonder what those terrible people could possible want from this adorable child.

“He has some kind of powers, like uh, like a sorcerer, or something.” He tells you sheepishly.

“Like a sorcerer?” You repeat, o-kay.

“I know it sounds strange. But, have you ever heard of the Jedi?”

“Oh, yes, I know a little about the Jedi. Wait, can the child use the force?”

“You know about the Jedi?” He seems excited to hear that. “What do you know? Do you know any of them?”

“I know the Jedi were once an order of knights and they had the ability to wield the force. Have you ever heard New Republic people say ‘May the force be with you’?” That phrase has been everywhere, so you feel like he must have heard it.

“Yeah, but I really have no idea what they mean by it.” Din feels a little embarrassed to finally admit that to someone. He hopes you don’t think him dumb for not knowing.

“From what I understand the force is like this invisible energy that lets the Jedi manipulate things with their minds. The phrase is meant to give you hope, sort of ‘May the positive energy be with you and bring you good things’. It’s a bit ironic though because for such an optimistic phrase it’s actually how Imperial Intelligence successfully broke several Rebel codes since they put it at the end of so many messages.” As much as your viewpoints aligned with the Rebellion, you had wished someone in their command had been intelligent enough to realize that you shouldn’t put a known saying into your coded messages. You look over to Mando and he gives you a nod in response, so you continue.

“I also know there were some Imperial commanders, very high up, who were pretty obsessed with the Jedi. They were always looking for any information about them. They thought there was a Jedi working with the Rebellion and any messages we decoded about him were supposed to be flagged as extreme priority. But, I never saw anything about him. So, that’s all I know.”

“That’s the most anyone has been able to tell me so far, so it’s very helpful.” Mando replies. He’s silent again for a bit and he seems to be looking down at the child. “It is my task to bring the child to the Jedi, he’s one of their kind. I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain. He- He’s special.”

Looking down at the little toddler in your arms, you remember how the Imperials treated you, and the years of damage, fear, and violence that they rained throughout the galaxy. You can’t possibly let them get their hands on this innocent one. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe,” you tell the child. And then you look at Mando, “I promise.”

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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged for Chapter 2, please let me know. Link to Chpt. 2

Tag list: @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ @theravenreads​ @nicotinebirds​ @boomtownboy @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative

[caramelcal]

heartbreak girl

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: ik i have requests to write (i am writing them don’t worry !) but i got super inspired when i was listening to my bbys 5sos

the luke hemmings / luke patterson comparison videos ive seen are my favourites, love it when two fandoms collide lollll

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s work for that matter) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x 

masterlist

You call me up It's like a broken record Saying that your heart hurts That you'll never get over him getting over you And you end up crying And I end up lying 'Cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do

You couldn’t stop playing the video. Ever since it was sent you from a random number, you couldn’t stop crying. The video was barely ten seconds long, but it was ten seconds that broke your heart. There your boyfriend was, clear as day, kissing a girl that wasn’t you.

It isn’t long before you heard the front door open and slam behind someone, reminding you of who you told to come over. Luke, your best friend since you guys met in the sandpit at six years old. When he accidentally pushed you in, so you kicked him in the nuts. You guys had been inseparable ever since.

Luke was your best friend, and you were his. You guys had been through everything together. When he first learned guitar, when you did gymnastics, when he joined a band, when you guys first went to high school, and now, your first heartbreak.

“y/n?” He calls from downstairs, looking around the dark room. He had learned from a young age to just come into your house without knocking, your house was his second home after all.

Of course, you do have a few female friends that you could have called but none of them knew you as well as Luke did and you knew Luke would be there with you through everything. He would understand. He would comfort you better than any girl ever could. You walked down the stairs, trying to keep your sobs in but once you caught eyes with Luke, the tears started to fall.

“Luke,” You let out, looking at the boy barely keeping yourself together.

“y/n/n, what’s wrong?” Luke questions, eyes wracking over your defeated posture before looking up at your puffy red eyes. It was clear you had been crying, but why?

“He- he-,” You cut yourself short, letting back a choked sob as you land at the bottom of the stairs, Luke walking closer to you, his face looking at you with concern, “Luke he was with another girl, he cheated-”

Mind wracking back over the video, you broke down into tears, falling into Luke’s now open arms. Suddenly, once you're in the arms of your best friend all of your walls come crashing down and you start to cry louder, letting out every emotion you felt that night. The sadness, betrayal, and overall heartbreak.

Luke holds the back of your head soothingly as you cry into his chest, playing softly with the hair on your head. By this point, he is supporting all of your weight but he doesn’t mind as he lifts you over to the couch, allowing you to continue crying in a more comfortable position than the awkward standing position you were in moments before.

Whilst Luke was sad hearing you cry, he was overcome with anger.  The fact that the scum would cheat, on you of all people. You were amazing, perfect even, so why would someone ever give away the chance of being with you? He knew he wouldn’t. Luke knew how much you loved and cared for the boy, Jack, and to see him cheat on you, he couldn’t help but be furious.

If he was being honest, the thing he wanted more than anything right now was to hook him right in the face. Punch him right where he stood, busting open his face so that no other girl would ever want to kiss him again. It’s what he deserves. Luke knew he was probably being a bit overprotective, but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was that you were okay right now.

The last thing you needed in your state of fragility was Luke leaving you by yourself to set into the dickhead. Oh no, that could be done another time when you weren’t crying. What you truly needed right now was his comfort, so that’s what he gave you. He held you close, not even saying anything but hugging you closely, silently reminding you that he was here for you and always would be as you softly lulled into a sleep.

And when then phone call finally ends You say "Thanks for being a friend" And I'm going in circles again and again

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

Walking down the hall, Luke’s eyes catch onto you. Even though he’s been with you all weekend, comforting you after the video you saw on Friday, just looking at you is a sad reminder of how you are doing. A frown has fallen onto your face whilst you look over at something. Following your gaze, Luke finds him, Jack, with his arm wrapped around the girl in the video.

He wants to punch that stupid smirk off Jack’s face, then they’ll see who’s truly laughing. When Luke’s eyes drift back over to you, he feels his stomach dropping slightly. The look in your gaze makes you look broken, eyes conveying a sense of vulnerability that Luke didn’t think was possible. Maybe it’s just because Luke knows you better and knows how to read you better than everyone else, but he notices all of the changes in you. He sees how your eyes lacked the sparkle they usually had, your usual smile not present, even your outfit seemed a little dull. Nonetheless, you’re still gorgeous, Luke thinks so, but you look different; less lively.

All of this heartbreak just because of a stupid boy. One stupid hard-headed jock that doesn’t know how to truly value the important things in his life. The stupid jock that didn’t know how much you were truly worth.

Luke knows he could treat you so much better if you just gave him the chance to. If you looked his way instead of Jack’s. He would hold you close and never let you go, let you know just how much you meant to him and those truly important around you. He would watch you like the only person in the world because you were the only one that mattered. 

He doesn’t even realize he was staring at you until he hears a cough sound from behind him as Reggie puts an arm over his shoulder, smirking, “You’re staring, pal.”

Luke, who’s eyes briefly glanced over towards Reggie when the bassist spoke, glanced back at you quickly, sighing lightly in relief when he realizes you didn’t notice him staring at you. He shrugs half-heartedly, not noticing the knowing look that Reggie gives him as he speaks, “I can’t, Reg. I’m not supposed to like her like this, she’s my best friend.”

“Best friend or not, I see the way you look at her, everyone does but her,” Reggie says before patting his friend on the back.

“She still likes him Reg, and I’ve known her since we were six. She’s been in so many relationships yet she fell for the stupid jock,” Luke says, shaking his head as his fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t realize but his face contorts into anger, making Reggie smirk, “she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who’s going to appreciate her. Someone who will show her how much she means to them-”

“Someone like you?” Reggie asks, making Luke glance at him with an annoyed expression, huffing. Reggie shrugs his shoulders, “Just saying man if anyone knows y/n it’s you. You just gotta be there for her and she’ll realize how much you mean to her. I mean, everyone thinks you guys are meant for each other, soon she’ll see that too.”

I bite my tongue But I wanna scream out You could be with me now But I end up telling you what you wanna hear But you're not ready And it's so frustrating He treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair

And when the phone call finally ends You say "I'll call you tomorrow at 10" And I'm stuck in the friendzone again and again

Luke is frustrated. It has been two weeks since his conversation with Reggie, and the hope Reggie had given him for pursuing a relationship was surely fizzling out. Reggie was wrong, that’s what Luke thought anyway. Not only had you not realized how much Luke was bending his back for you, going out of his way to comfort you, being there for you 24/7, you had been so utterly stupid. Jack had given you the most insincere apology known to man, and you were meeting up with him for a date.

It had been forty-seven minutes since you had left, not that Luke was counting or anything and he still hadn’t heard a word from you. No text, no call, nothing. Jack was probably taking up all of your attention with his boring jock stories or his lame jokes. He probably didn’t even compliment you when you arrived and that was practically criminal.

You had been all dressed up when you left, not that Jack would have even noticed, but Luke did. He noticed the way the outfit you wore looked perfect on you, complimenting everything about you and most importantly, how confident you felt in it. You deserved more than a boy that wouldn’t even tell you that you were pretty, Luke knew that, he just wished you did too. 

He paces around his room, feet aggressively hitting the ground. He wanted to punch something, to let out all of the anger and frustration that was itching, begging to be released. Yet, his anger was cut short when he heard his phone start to ring.

“Hello?”

“Lu?” Your voice sounded through his phone, ringing in his ears.

“Y/n?” Luke said in confusion, eyes glancing up at the time, “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date?”

You hesitate to answer, a complete silence hanging in the air until your light sniffles sound through the phone, “He didn’t show, Lu. M-My mom dropped me off, I don’t have my car. Can you come pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in 10, stay there y/n/n.”

Luke ran out of the house.

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

I know someday it's gonna happen And you'll finally forget the day you met him Sometimes I'm so close to confession I gotta get it through your head That you belong with me instead

Luke couldn’t help but smile at you, hazel eyes meeting your e/c eyes as he strung his guitar expertly. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you to be at band practices, actually, you were at a large amount of them. It was normal for you to watch the band, well that’s what you said you were doing, but you were only really looking at Luke.

You didn’t play any musical instruments properly, but you could play a little guitar from what Luke had taught you. You remembered his teaching you, arms wrapped around you, hands guiding your fingers onto the different frets, playing different cords. He didn’t give up when you messed up, and instead, he smiles and shows you again, your back flushed against his chest.

It was no secret that you always enjoyed watching their band practice and perform, but it was different this time because they had gotten you to stop thinking about Jack. This was the first day that you didn’t feel miserable and instead felt happy in their presence. It was the first day that your gleaming smile returned, one that all members of the band had missed.

Soon enough, they were finished, congratulating each other on how well they played with large smiles.

“We’re gonna sound great at the rally!” Reggie says, flipping his bass down to his side so he didn’t have to hold it as he gave Luke a high five before turning to Alex, all of them breathing heavily with huge smiles.

“Of course, we’re still finishing with the other song, right?” Alex asked, eyes looking over at Luke for approval. He nodded his head, making you look at them in confusion.

“What other song?”

Luke glanced over to you, walking closer before kneeling beside you, guitar still in his hand, smirking “Can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.”

You groaned lightly, flinging your head back before giving the boy your puppy eyes, “Please? I won’t tell.”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head at you. Over the years, he had often been the victim to your puppy eyes, and whilst he often found them irresistible, he knew he couldn’t tell you this secret. He playfully slapped you on the arm, “Get those puppy eyes away, they’re not gonna work today.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, standing up before you stood up alongside Luke, who slung an arm over your shoulder. You guys shared a look, almost communicating through your eyes, something that you guys had gotten freakishly good at since you were kids.

“So, who wants to go grab a smoothie?” Luke said, turning his attention towards the rest of the band as you jumped on his back, ready to leave practice for smoothies.

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure Heartbreak girl

Soon enough, the rally at school came and the students surround the stage that the band was playing on. You stood at the back, proudly watching them as they played. Their most recent song blasts through the halls, exciting the students more than you had seen for the previous people on stage, even Dirty Candy. Sweat drips off of them, lights blazing down on them with intensity.

Eyes looking at Luke, you see him jump around when he sings and it brings a smile to your face. You knew this was their surprise song, the song that they were ending with because it was an unfamiliar tune, but one that Luke was pouring every feeling into as he sang the lyrics.

Suddenly, he’s no longer playing his guitar and it’s hanging on the strap by his side, mic detached from the stand and he’s making his way off of the stage and running through the crowd. You’re astonished, not only because Luke is running off stage, but that it somehow isn’t affecting his vocals.

Everyone seems to knowingly make a path for him to run through, almost as if they know where he is going to. Your eyes stay on him as he comes through the crowd, slowing down to a walk as he begins to sing again,

“I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl

Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl.”

His eyes meet yours when he is standing barely feet away from you. His hair is messed up, dripping with sweat but you barely notice. When he stops singing, he lifts the mic away from his face and holds it down away from both of your faces so that it can’t pick up what you’re saying.

People start to talk between themselves, all of them staring at you and Luke standing barely a foot apart, eyes gazing into one another but you don’t notice because you’re too busy looking at Luke. You’re speechless, heart racing faster than you thought humanly possible, with lips slightly apart before he whispers to you, “This is for you, my heartbreak girl.”

Then, his free hand makes its way up and cups your cheek, and his lips connect with yours.

[divinefireangel]

I've Got You.

SF9 Youngbin x GN! Reader Fluff.

SF9 LEADER BEST LEADER

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Okay so I've included what happened at my uni and they way they conducted classes this semester and stuff. I hope that's okie 🥺 and it turned out shorted than intended 💀

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 13+ ages and all readers (nothing specified with respect to gender, appearance, etc of reader). Mentions of not sleeping properly. That's it ig. Lmk if I need to add anything. Binnie being supportive BF 🥺

Requested: Yes. By a cutie anon 🥰

hellow! can i request youngbin comforting you at his car (he pick you up) after you're getting sad because of something. thank you

0.9k Words.

Yes. Finally the ending bell.

" Okay write down this problem. It's a small problem only. " Y/N's professor said, as soon as the bell rang. Huffing in disbelief all the students continue to write what's being dictated. 'Let us go you monster' is all that's going through their head. It's 4pm already, they've been in campus since 8am. This is hell. But alas it is the last day of class for the week. All Y/N wanted to do was go home to their dream of a boyfriend.

It's a difficult transition from online classes to offline classes with all safety precautions and new rules to follow. It is for the students' safety, truly, but they would much rather have online classes than offline ones as the pandemic isn't completely over yet. And they're in a bloody pandemic. Feeling helpless and having to work to get a degree when there is no guarantee of a job? Would shake anyone to the core with fear.

Eight hours of sitting in the same place made Y/N tired physically, and mentally, they were literally hanging by a thread. Staying up late to finish assignments and then waking early to get to class, barely getting sleep or food, made the situation worse. And extending class just made the thread come down to a string. How much longer can they do it? Is it worth it? Are the not strong enough or capable enough? Everyone else seems to be alright. Is it so bad to want to take a break?

After ten extra minutes of class everyone leaves the room, going down to get ready to go to their home or temporary homes. Walking down the stairs, Y/N felt light headed. Was or overworking or under sleeping? Does it matter? Making their way down slowly, dreading the fact that they have to get on the bus to go back home, Y/N sighs. Walking slow as a tortoise towards the campus gate, Y/N notices a familiar figure, standing near his car in a comfy white hoodie, a soft smile adorning his cute face, waving to them.

Oh no. Not now tears, just hold on a little longer. Sprinting through the scattered mass of students, Y/N makes their way towards Youngbin. Throwing their arms around him, Y/N buries their face in his neck, standing on their tippy toes as Youngbin laughs with his chest. Fisting his hoodie in their palm tighter, Y/N clings to him, trying their best to stop the tears of frustration from falling down. Hiding their face in his neck, Y/N just gives up on stopping the tears, allowing them to fall on their boyfriend's hoodie.

Kissing the top of their head, Youngbin rests his head on theirs, shielding their face from the walkers passing. Rubbing the back of their head, Binnie removes their bag and places it on the ground near his leg, so that he can hug them completely.

" It's okay. I'm here now. Just breathe slowly. I'm here. Really here. You can let all your worries go now. I've got you. My hardworking baby. " He praised sincerely, cradling their head gently, the pair stand there for a few minutes. The cool wind blowing doesn't affect Y/N, who's in the warm embrace of their perfect boyfriend. The setting sun on this fine spring day, makes the whole scene look like it jumpes right out from a drama. Romantic, comforting, and just perfect.

They love how unbothered Youngbin is with so many people just walking around them, probably giving them weird judgy stares. But he doesn't care about them really. All he cares and worries about is his lover. His lover who has gone through so many changes recently, it gets hard sometimes. And having someone who understands what you are going through, even when they don't experience it hands on, is such a blessing. They can finally take rest tomorrow, knowing that he'll be there, right next to them, holding them in his arms as they sleep their tiredness away.

Pulling away from him, Y/N wipes their tears. Looking up at him, he's still giving them that soft smile, the smile that never fails to make Y/N feel like they're home.

Opening the passenger side door, Youngbin takes Y/N's hand and leads them to sit down in the car. Closing the door he grabs the bag, placing it on the backseat, he goes around to the driver's side and starts the car. After making his way to the main road, Youngbin grabs Y/N's hand, bringing it to his lips, a delicate kiss, shooing all their worries away.

" You know, I am so very proud of you, and how you are managing to do everything. Although I don't condone to the less sleeping, it's amazing how you get through so much. You'll be top of the class with how much you're working. " He glances at Y/N, a soft hidden smile playing at their lips. Nodding their head, they lean their had back on the headrest, looking out the window at the passing scenery. Continuing to hold their hand in his, Youngbin drives them home, making sure to take a detour to their favourite cafe, getting them a hot chocolate and a sandwich. Definitely the best way to end a tiring day. Adding cuddles in bed too.

[ask-them-bois]

Of Monsters and Matriarchs, pt 2/3

pt.1

TW: PTSD flashback, attempted mugging

TLDR: Deadscar heads for the desert. A new troll arrives.

.

Ishran cinched the strap on his bag and stood, swinging the pack onto his shoulder. He picked up his war hammer, sliding it into its holster between the bag and his back. Finally, he tied up his hair, made sure his campfire was out completely, and set out.

He’d been camped on the outskirts of the city for several nights, but now, mere hours after the meeting with Musrio and the other ancestors, it was time to leave. He made for the trackscuttler station, remembering the Decaying’s directions.

He stepped up onto the platform and looked around; the station was empty, as far as he could tell. No one was even in the ticket booth, the lights all dark. He found an old board that listed the trackscuttlers’ arrival times, but all of them were marked the same way: “Canceled.”

It was abandoned, he realized. Trackscuttlers were still a popular mode of transportation all over Alternia, and he idly wondered what would cause the station to shut down. Perhaps a better one had been built elsewhere.

Regardless, he put his curiosity aside; the inquiry of why a station was powered down was not his mission. Finally, he located a map of the tracks, in a case that stood in the middle of the station. It depicted most of the continent he was currently on, and it was easy to locate the desert; the landmass he resided on only had one, albeit a rather large one.

If Lucina wasn’t there, then he’d have to head overseas. First things first, though- he located the tracks that wound through the desert. There was only one track, and someone had scribbled over part of it in red marker.

Undeterred, Ishran followed the trail to the station he was currently at; it stood to the west of the desert, which meant he had to head east. Satisfied, he turned to survey the tracks by the station. They pointed north and south, but following the northern one would eventually take him the correct way.

A squeak of a shoe behind him was his only warning as a knifepoint was suddenly pressed to his shoulder.

“Give me everything in the bag, geezer, or I’ll gut you like an oink-beast.”

Ishran didn’t move for a moment, before he finally turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder.

Behind him, their only knife left pressed against the oliveblood’s skin, looking rather gaunt and messy, was none other than Fayroe Fallen.

The young fuchsia’s eyes were bloodshot, their undersides dark from lack of sleep. His fins were wilted, horns bare of jewelry; he’d either hidden them or sold them. He was covered in bruises and scrapes, his clothes worse for wear than ever before.

Outwardly, Ishran didn’t react at first, but his thinkpan was flashing warning lights as wailing sirens went off, unbidden memories whirling through his mind as he stared at those horns.

Pain, pain, pain- shackles, bolts embedded in his wrists, chains beating his back, dragging him like a dog, the coliseum, his hammer, smashing through skin and muscle and bone. Breaking, breaking, scars and bleeding and no rest. Beast and troll crying out, the deafening cheers as his knuckled crumpled bone like faygo cans-

The whirring, chittering, subsonic roar of the drones. His hammer screaming off of carapace, chitinous armor flying across sand, sparks from the contact and then- pain. Naught but pain, struggling to breathe, burning lungs and broken ribs and PAIN-

When he snapped back to himself, Ishran found himself knelt on the prince’s chest, the knife spinning across the floor and his hands on the kid’s throat, teeth bared. Fayroe had his arms up to shield himself, as if expecting a beating.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, please-! I didn’t mean it, please don’t kill me!” The seadweller’s wails suddenly cut through the ringing in his ears. They sounded terrified and desperate, sobs hitching in their chest.

Ishran stared down at the sniveling fuchsia, his hands lax around their neck as he tried to mentally catch up with what just happened.

“Please, I didn’t mean it- I’m j- j- just so h- hungry- I w- wasn’t going to hurt you!” Fayroe continued to babble, covering his face with his arms.

The oliveblood managed to lurch to his feet and stumble away. He leaned on the map case with one hand, his blood-pumper hammering in his chest. Adrenaline was screaming through him, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t breathe properly, he almost felt sick, but he managed to suck in a shaky breath.

“Who… are… you.” He spoke through clenched teeth. Behind him, the sniveling stopped abruptly.

“Wh- what?”

“You’re Enforcer’s spawn.”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, his voice shaky but even.

“I’m- I was just- I am-”

“Out with it, boy.” Ishran snapped.

“I was sleeping!” Fayroe shouted, his voice echoing around the empty station.

“… Here?”

“Yeah?”

“… Why?” Ishran wasn’t sure why he was asking. He didn’t even want to know, but the talking was making the buzzing in his skin fade. He turned to face Fayroe again, and saw the young troll had sat up, eyes huge in the gloom.

“Why do you care? Who are you?” They sniffed.

“I do not care. I am Ishran.” Deadscar stated bluntly, “Now answer my question.”

“I don’t take orders from lowbloods.”

Ishran’s brows settled low, and he turned away. “Fine.” He headed for the tracks.

“Wh- you’re leaving?”

“I have places to be.”

He heard Fayroe scramble to their feet. “Wait!”

He stopped.

“… Where… where are you going?” The fuchsia asked, trying to sound casual.

“Why should I tell you?”

“W- well- because you’re the Deadscar, aren’t you? Fath- Godric, talked about you a lot.” Oh, Ishran didn’t like that. There was a beat of silence, in which Fayroe was probably expecting a response. When that didn’t happen, he continued. “Take me with you.”

“I do not take orders from highbloods.”

“Wh- yes you do! You have to!”

“No.”

“But- but- but that’s-”

Ishran turned around to look at the descendant again. “I take orders from no one, boy, especially not the successor of the Enforcer.”

At that, Fayroe laughed bitterly, catching him off guard. “Successor? Not anymore, I’m not. Descendant, sure, but no successor.” He scuffed one foot against the platform. “… I got chased out. That’s why I was sleeping in here.”

They were interrupted as their stomach let out a feeble, yet loud gurgle, and they put their hand on their stomach. Their fins, somehow, drooped further.

“You are hungry.”

“I don’t have any money. I’ve got nothing but my hop-beast.” Fayroe huffed, shuffling his feet some more. “Godric saw to that.” Ishran looked around for said hop-beast, but Fayroe shook his head. “I left her with… erm… a friend. Or I guess, a former acquaintance, an engineer, who I made take her for a while. But she’s all I got.”

“Then we understand each other.” Ishran said, unmoved. Fayroe looked up, puzzled. “All that you see on my back is all I have anymore.”

“Oh…” An awkward pause fell. Tired of lingering, Ishran turned away again. “Wait- where are you going?” Fayroe called.

“To the desert.”

“Take me with you!”

Sighing, Ishran turned back once more. “Why?”

“I… I can be useful! I’m good at this survival stuff- I’ve lasted this long! It’s been…” They quickly ticked on their fingers, “Five weeks? Six?” They frowned, before looking back up. “Regardless, I can rough it, same as you, but I’m not… as good. Teach me, please! I’ll listen to everything you say, I’ll be helpful, I’ll-”

Ishran wasn’t really listening past that, memories once more overwhelming him. For a moment, he didn’t see a fuchsiablood, but a lime, standing before him and demanding to be taught how to use a bow. He’d been alone on the road for so long- his blood-pumper twinged with the thought of being on the move again with Amadri.

“- and, okay, I don’t know how to start a fire, or cook, or clean, but I’m willing to learn! I just don’t want to be alone anymore...” Fayroe’s words cut through the fog again, and the vision of Amadri was gone. “And I swear I won’t-”

“Fine.” Ishran said, making the younger troll stop.

“Huh?”

“You may join me. But you are to listen to my every order. You may be fuchsia, but I am your elder. You will not speak down to me, and I will not punish you for the sins of your father.”

Fayroe blinked at him, before they grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Okay! Yes! You’ve got it, Deadscar!”

Ishran nodded once, and turned away for the final time. “Come, then.”

“Wh- now?”

“Yes, now.”

He kept walking, hopping down from the platform and following the tracks. Behind him, he heard Fayroe scoop up their knife and run after him. “Thank you, thank you, oh you won’t regret this, I swear!”

Ishran only grunted.

“So where are we going?”

“The desert.”

“Yeah, I know. Why, though?”

“To find someone.”

“Oh. Who?”

“A woman.”

Fayroe sighed, giving up on making conversation. He trailed after Ishran, pouting in silence, as they followed the tracks. . . . Regret, regret, regret- Irritation buzzed under Ishran’s skin like stinging wasps. It’d been just over a week- nine nights, to be exact- since he’d set out with Fayroe in tow. It’d taken a bit of rearranging on Ishran’s part, and a stop in a town to pick up extra supplies, but they were managing well enough. The oliveblood had even been nice enough to get Fayroe his own sleeping cocoon. His tent was really only meant for one, but Fayroe was small enough that they could squeeze in it together to sleep.

They woke before the sun had fully set each night, ate, and set out, stopping for only fifteen minutes every four hours for water and a small snack. When dawn approached, Ishran found a place to set up camp. They had dinner, then went to bed.

All of that would have been fine, had he had Amadri with him. But-

Ishran was not a religious man, yet he was just about ready to pray for mercy. Fayroe did not. Stop. Talking. Perhaps it was because he’d been alone for so long, but what was usually blissful silence was filled with chatter about anything. By the end of the third night, Ishran knew Fayroe’s life story, albeit unwillingly and without any prompting.

The complaining, too, grated on his nerves like sandpaper on stone.

“My feet hurt.” Fayroe had whined, three hours into their journey on the first night.

“They will toughen.”

“Can we take a break?” Was asked the second night, after they’d just set out.

“No.”

“I’m thirsty!” was announced mere minutes later.

“Now is not a time for drinking.”

And “How much farther do we have to go?” was a constantly repeated question.

“Far.” was the constantly repeated response.

Over and over, on and on. Ishran was ready to stuff wax into his ears to make it stop; he longed to have his matesprit with him instead- at least her voice was soothing, and not the snotty, whining drivel. When they made camp, he gave Fayroe tasks that either sent him away or forced him to stop talking, just for a reprieve.

On the sixth night, still following the tracks, they made it to the desert. Ishran filled their canteens and refreshed their rations at an outpost before they’d proceeded.

The desert was made up of rust red sand dunes, towering higher than ocean waves in storms.

It took them half an hour to make it over the first dune, before Ishran had an idea and turned around.

Returning to the outpost, he rented a pair of scaly-hoofs; draconic hoof-beasts used for crossing the desert. On the creatures’ backs, they made it over the dunes with ease. The dunes eventually faded behind them, until they were crossing miles of sandy plains.

For the next few nights, they saw little around them, even as they continued to follow the tracks. There was sparse vegetation, and an occasional covered well where they could refill their drinks. An abandoned shack or two where they could camp. Wild lusii avoided them, and Ishran only ever saw them at a distance.

On the ninth night, though, Ishran urged his beast to a stop before a sign.

“Turn back! Forbidden land!” was scrawled on a sheet of metal in curly writing.

Fayroe came to a stop beside him, examining the sign, too.

“What now?” He asked, pulling down his scarf; he’d wrapped it around his face to keep the sand out of his gills and mouth.

“We keep going.”

“But it says-”

“I can read. But we keep going.”

Ishran snapped the reins, and his beast carried on.

The further they went, the more signs they saw, all in the same writing.

“Danger!”

“Turn back!”

“Cursed land ahead!”

“Monsters roam beyond!”

“Unholy beasts dwell yonder!”

Ishran ignored them all, until, at last, they crested a hill and came to stop at the sight before them.

Bleached white by the sun, the teeth gleaming in the moonlight, was a massive, monstrous skeleton. Beyond it, just visible on the horizon, was the twisted and warped remains of a crashed and abandoned trackscuttler, laid across the tracks.

“What the fuck is that?” Fayroe exclaimed as he rode up beside Ishran.

“A beast’s bones.” He replied, before he suddenly remembered the Decaying’s words:

“No water but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. … Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.”

Ishran looked towards the trackscuttler again; from the distance, it was faint, but he could make out the gleam of water. A lake, if he were to guess. An oasis.

“A beast of bone.” He corrected himself, “We are close.”

“We are?” Fayroe repeated, surprised. “Oh, good.”

Ishran urged his beast into motion again, and they descended the hill, approaching the skeleton.

It truly was massive; one of the beast’s claws was four times the size of Ishran himself. He couldn’t be sure what it used to be, but it had a gnarled muzzle full of monstrous teeth, and he counted four eye sockets. Twisted and curled horns protruded from the skull, piercing the sky. To walk from the skull to tail would take a half an hour, at least.

As they were by the skull, though, Ishran stopped again. He looked around at their surroundings; nothing moved, not even the wind. He could see what looked like an outcrop of cliffs and rocks to the south. Looking up, he saw the moons were nearing their peak.

“We’ll stop here.” He decided.

“Already?” Fayroe asked.

“Yes.” Ishran turned and dismounted.

Fayroe had learned by then that he wouldn’t get a lot of explanations for much, so he dismounted, too. They put the tent up in silence, up against the jaw of the skull. After a moment’s deliberation, despite being out in the open, Ishran decided to start a fire.

“What if something sees it?” Fayroe asked uncertainly.

“That’s the idea.” Ishran grunted as he got a meal together and passed the seadweller a canteen. Fayroe had been rather selfish with the water, insisting he needed more due to his aquatic nature. Ishran wasn’t totally sure if that was true, but he was willing to give up a portion of his share if it stopped the whining.

Once camp was set up, they’d eaten, and the beasts were given their due of food and water, Ishran sat down, using the beast’s saddle as a chair on the ground. He pulled his dagger out of his boot, and dug in his bag, pulling out a half-carved figurine of a moth.

He set to work carving, flicking the scraps into the fire.

Fayroe sat on his own saddle, chin in hand, as his knee bounced impatiently.

“Whatcha making?” He asked, just to say something.

“A gift.”

“For who?”

“My partner.”

“You have a partner?”

“Yes.”

“What- what’re they like?”

Ishran paused and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“I dunno. Are they the woman we’re here for?”

“No. She is visiting her morail.”

“Oh.”

Ishran had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He resumed his work in silence.

“I’m bored.” Fayroe announced after two minutes.

“Then find something to do.”

“Like what? We’re in a desert! It’s not like there’s a filmhive out here.”

“Count the teeth in the skull. Go hunting. Brush the sand off the beasts. Take a nap.” Ishran listed without looking up.

Fayroe didn’t want to do any of that. After another minute of silence, they spoke again. “Why are we even stopped? We could keep going, you know.”

“We are where we need to be.”

“But there’s nothing out here!” Fayroe pouted.

“That’s enough!” Ishran finally snapped, setting his knife down and looking up. “I am aware there is nothing, but this is the spot I have been seeking.” He explained, ill-tempered, “Now is as good a time as any to rest, for I do not know what comes next. The beasts are tired, I am tired, and I am working out what to do. But there is no point running ourselves to exhaustion without direction, nor is there a point to whining! If you are bored, make yourself productive!” He snarled the last part, “You do not know what is out here, and our voices will attract unwanted attention. Do you wish to fight wild animals? You can’t even skin a dirt-spud!”

“But the fire would-” Fayroe began meekly.

“Would deter animals unused to the light, but be a beacon, perhaps, to the woman I am looking for! You have no thoughts other than those for yourself, boy, and I am sick of it! I did not force you to come, and if you are going to continue to stay, then you will hold your tongue and wait, same as I am!”

Fayroe had shrunk back so far he’d nearly fallen off his seat. Slowly, he scowled, and sat back up. He dropped his gaze, glowering at his shoes. “You sound like him.” He muttered lowly, ““Sit down and shut up, Fayroe. You don’t understand anything, Fayroe. I’m having you fucking tortured for your own good, Fayroe.””

“Perhaps that is because you never stop talking.” Ishran grouched without meaning to.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve never had someone to talk to!” Fayroe snapped back, just barely managing to keep their voice down.

Ishran opened his mouth, before Fayroe suddenly sat up and twisted to stare into the darkness towards the distant cliff outcrop.

Slowly, they got to their feet, eyes trained towards the south. Ishran paused, too, caught off guard by their sudden change in behavior. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

“Boy, what-”

“Sshh!” Fayroe flapped a hand at him, fin-fronds flaring wide as they leaned forward. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, but- do you hear that?”

Ishran paused again and listened, but no sounds other than the fire and the huffing of the beasts came to him. “What do you hear?” He asked.

Fayroe frowned, squinting towards the outcrop. “It’s like… a growl? But constant. A roar? It- look!” He suddenly pointed towards the cliffs.

Ishran fished a pair of farsight-goggles out of his bag and stepped up beside Fayroe, raising them to his eyes. At first, he saw nothing, until he saw the dust plume.

Following it with his eyes, he saw… something, racing towards them. It was dark, and hard to make out, even with the goggles, due to the distance. Whatever it was, it was making a beeline for their camp.

Ishran lowered the goggles.

“Sit down, boy.”

“Wh- shouldn’t we run?”

“No. We will wait for it to come to us.” Ishran returned to his seat, slipping the goggles into his bag.

Fayroe hesitated, but slowly took a seat again.

“What if it’s an enemy?”

“Then it will be dealt with.”

Ishran calmly picked up his dagger and block of wood again, and resumed his work, while Fayroe watched the thing approach.

“Do you have a gun?” He asked after a moment.

“No.”

“Crossbow?”

“I do not use long range weapons.”

“Oh…”

Finally, after fifteen minutes, Ishran could hear the rumbling, too. He decided to break camp and pack up, before he picked up his hammer, bags resting at his feet. Five minutes more, and he got to his feet as the thing roared up to the camp, only to come to a sudden stop.

Now that it was close, Ishran could see the noise had come from an all-terrain buggy, its driver bent low over the handlebars.

The driver in question slowly sat up, pulling goggles up off its eyes.

“Who are ye?” It demanded, dismounting its vehicle, “Thou be on accursed lands and must make leave, posthaste!”

“We could ask you the same thing, weirdo.” Fayroe said haughtily, his hand going for the knife on his belt.

“Stand down, boy.” Ishran ordered. He lowered his hammer himself, squinting at the jadeblood. “What’s your name?” He asked, voice carefully neutral.

The jade looked at him, tiny fins twitching. “Mine compatriots called me Cyber, but mine name be Alaric Evrren.” With a flourish of its hand, it bowed low to the oliveblood.

Outwardly, Ishran’s expression did not change. “Do you know a woman named Lucina?”

Alaric stood back up, brushing its hair back with a flick of its wrist. “Aye, be ye seekers of my ancestor?”

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“We were sent by her husband.”

“We were?” Fayroe asked, surprised.

Both midbloods ignored him.

“Oh, thou speaketh of the great captain? Mine forefather, Faslet?” Alaric nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the two of them. It drew its tongue over its fangs thoughtfully, before it nodded and turned away. “Upon thine word, I trust thou. Follow, and I shall shepherd ye to Lucina.” It mounted its buggy again, slipping its goggles down over its eyes.

Ishran nodded and turned, heading for the scaly-hoofs.

“It’s a funny little weirdo, isn’t it? What does it mean?” Fayroe asked quietly as they sidled up to Ishran.

“They will take us to Lucina.”

“Yeah… who is that?”

“The woman I am seeking.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Once the beasts were saddled, the fire kicked out, and Ishran and Fayroe on their mounts, Alaric revved their buggy to life. It waved and shouted something, before it was off, tearing across the sand.

Ishran and Fayroe snapped the reins and gave chase.

The beasts managed to keep up with the buggy as they made for the cliff outcrop in the distance, the roar of the buggy’s engine drowning the night in noise.

Finally, Alaric swerved to a stop before the cliffs, and the other two slowed their mounts.

Cutting the engine, Alaric leaned on the handlebars and pointed. They’d come to a stop before a yawning cavern opening, one that looked troll-made. It was into the dark cave that the jadeblood pointed.

“Mine foremother lies within.”

Ishran nodded. “Boy,” He addressed Fayroe, “set up camp.”

“Aren’t we going in?” Fayroe asked, surprised.

“No.” Ishran dismounted and grabbed something from his bag, before he walked away.

“So… what’s with the muzzle?” Ishran heard Fayroe ask as he moved some distance away from the cave.

Putting his back to the other two, he turned his attention to palmhusk he’d procured. It was definitely nothing fancy- an older version he’d gotten for cheap at a pawn shop- but it still worked, and was durable for travel. Thumbing through the menus, he raised it to his ear as it rang.

“Aye?” The trembling voice of Ruthless picked up after a few rings.

“We found her.”

[Everyone please welcome Alaric Evrren! (Link to bio)]

[hotchocolatewriting]

Christmas day 2

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 December 26th, hours after Hero went home. They had been watching Supervillain all night, so that the guards that were normally there, could celebrate Christmas with their friends and family. Hero didn’t mind, since they already celebrated it earlier that day, and they had been quite curious to see how Supervillain was doing. But as the hours had gone by, Supervillain had barely moved. Hero could see they were watching something, but at first, they didn’t know what. As they followed Supervillain’s eyes, they saw the clock on the wall, the closed doors underneath it, and Supervillain had been staring at it all day, waiting for something to happen. ‘For someone to come,’ Hero thought. But that hadn’t happened. The doors had stayed closed all day, just like any other day, if Hero should believe the guards that came to relieve them later.

They went home after, ready to get some sleep, but the image of Supervillain didn’t leave them alone. The tears that had slipped and how they had been shuddering as they sobbed. Even though it was Supervillain, Hero felt bad for them. They looked so terribly lost. There had been nothing left of the supervillain Hero knew. It was not the person they brought in there. They didn’t even have a bed! They had nothing! Hero turned around to lay on their other side, but they felt like they were right in front of Supervillain. Hero could almost hear them cry. It made them feel helpless as there was nothing they could do now. They weren’t there, there was nothing they could do for them. Supervillain was in there for a reason. That no-one came wasn’t their problem to solve. It wasn’t Hero’s fault. Why did it feel so bad then? After a bad night, Hero decided to go back. They had barely slept, trying to get the image of Supervillain out of their head. Only later to be thinking about what they should do. Again, it wasn’t their fault and it wasn’t their problem. But they couldn’t leave Supervillain there like this. They couldn’t bear the idea of seeing them like that again, it hurt, more than it should. Hero walked through those same doors Supervillain had been staring at all day. They found Supervillain sitting on the floor of their cell, surrounded by the forcefield. Supervillain immediately looked up at hearing the creaking of the door, hope shimmering in their eyes. It faded as soon as they saw the person that came through. “A visitor,” Supervillain said, their voice hoarse from months without much talking. “What a surprise. To what do I owe this visit, Hero? If someone burned the city down again, it wasn’t me.” They got to their feet and stood right in front of Hero. The forcefield was the only thing keeping them apart. “The city has been fine since you left, a lot quieter though,” Hero replied. “Then why are you here?” Supervillain asked, crossing their arms. They made themselves look bigger than they actually were, and it almost worked, wasn’t it that Hero knew how they really felt after being imprisoned all alone for so long. “Let’s just say I wanted to see if the dangerous supervillain was still in their place,” Hero said. Supervillain narrowed their eyes, gritting their teeth. “And maybe I just want you gone,” they snarled. “If I break out of here I am going to find you, Hero, I am going to-” “Easy, I might not have worded it like that, but I’m not here to make you feel bad about being imprisoned. I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing.” Supervillain’s jaw snapped shut and they took a step back. “Why would you want to do that?” they asked, suspicion shimmering through their voice. “Because I was guarding you yesterday. I saw you through the glass. I know you can’t see me, but I could see you all day. You looked… sad.” “Sad?” Supervillain repeated. “How that so? I just sat still in my cosy little cell, not much else to do here, is there?” They still had their arms crossed and nothing showed how they felt yesterday. They looked exactly the same as Hero knew from when they were fighting them. The scars were still visible on Supervillain’s body. Did they dream about the tears then? Did it never happen? “Then why did you cry?” Hero asked, knowing that it would be a private question and that it would possibly make Supervillain angry, asking about it. But they didn’t know what else to say to make Supervillain admit. To know what they should do, if they should do what they were planning from the very start. Supervillain’s eyes widened and Hero knew they had been right. “I.. I..” They lowered their eyes to the ground. “You saw that too, great.” “It’s okay, I get it. You were waiting for someone, weren’t you?” Supervillain looked up at them, sadness shimmering in their eyes for a split second, before it got replaced with a steel mask. “Family, friends, Sidekick.. I don’t even know who I wanted to come more. The outcome is still the same though, no-one came.” They looked away again, determined not to show Hero any cracks in their mask. They saw their feelings as a weakness, Hero knew that and they didn’t blame them. Hero had been the same for years, not wanting to show their own weaknesses in front of the villains they were fighting. Now they didn’t care, they had learned. “Supervillain, you’re allowed to feel sad about that. Your feelings aren’t a sign of weakness, they show strength.” Supervillain huffed. “Are you done talking?” they asked, but Hero could see their eyes pleading for them to stay. “No, actually, since no-one came, I got you something.” Hero lowered their backpack down from their shoulders and got a wrapped present out of it. Supervillain’s eyes lit up for a split second as Hero lay the present down on the platform in the floor, right before Supervillain’s cell. It disappeared, going down into the floor, only to show up in Supervillain’s cell again. “And I won’t get any problems with this.. present?” Supervillain asked as they studied the wrapped box. “No, the guards trust me. We wouldn’t give you something that makes you even more dangerous,” Hero said. “Yeah, of course, you wouldn’t. I’m not even allowed to wear a shirt or have a bed.” They picked up the present and removed the wrapping. “Books?” Supervillain asked, rolling their eyes. “Even though I appreciate the idea of you giving me a present I have to say that I'm not much of a reader.” “If you don’t want them, you can also give them back to me. I haven’t read the series yet.” “No!” Supervillain said, clinging the books to their chest. Hero laughed. “They’re three parts of a series of nine. I’m not sure if you’re allowed to keep them in here, but I can try and talk to them.” Supervillain put the books down and looked at Hero again. “I may be dangerous and maybe I burned half the city down, but what do they think I'm gonna do with a book? Throw it at someone's head through the forcefield? To all those people that come in here? Which to be clear are zero except for you.” Hero shrugged. “I will talk to them. You’re in here for a long time now, you’re behaving. They should give you a bed and allow you to have some things. You’re surrounded by a forcefield. I think it should be fine.” “Sounds nice,” Supervillain said. “Still not a reader, though.” “You can try. I have to go now, but I will make sure it is gonna be alright.” With that hero left and when they came back a few days later, Suprevillain had read the books multiple times already. “Hero, I need part four. Now! You don’t understand how much I need it!” Hero smiled. “Did I make a reader out of you?” “Yes, Hero, yes you did, now please tell me that you can get me a part four before I have to try to throw one of these beautiful books through the forcefield.” Hero laughed again. At least they had made someone's day a bit better.