#may drop in as a canon chapter at some point or as a little side bit but its deffo going in the main series

[offtorivendell]

What if the eight-pointed star is a symbol of so much more than the Starborn; on Wyrd, Chaos, the Cauldron and the Archeron sisters...

Disclaimer: this post is just a theory and makes no claims of being canon. These thoughts are definitely not unique at this point in time - I'll link to existing posts where relevant - but I had both a moment and the motivation to get my thoughts down, so here we are lol. Also, I am aware that the bigger stars in the gif above have more than eight points but as it's very pretty, has crescent moons and little motifs with three tear drops each... it stays. A massive thank you, as usual, to @wingedblooms for always being up for some theorising. 💜

Spoilers: the entire Maasverse is fair game, be careful if you're not up to date.

The eight-pointed star is a symbol that exists across the entire Maasverse, in Erilea, Prythian, Midgard.

Erilea:

The High Priestess walked onto the stone platform and raised her hands above her head. The folds of her midnight-blue gossamer robe fell around her, and her white hair was long and unbound. An eight-pointed star was tattooed upon her brow in a shade of blue that matched her gown, its sharp lines extending to her hairline. “Welcome all, and may the blessings of the Goddess and all her gods be upon you.” Her voice echoed across the chamber to reach even those in the back. - TOG, chapter 37

Prythian:

There, dead in the center of the Illyrian tattoo snaking down his spine, a new tattoo had appeared. An eight-pointed star, whose compass points radiated in sharp lines across and up the groove of his back, twining with the Illyrian markings long inked there. The eastern and western points of the star shot right onto his wings, black blending into black. A matching one, he knew, would be on Nesta’s spine. - ACOSF, chapter 12

Midgard:

Ruhn held out his phone, the picture of the illuminated manuscript glaringly bright in the thick shadows. The illustration of the carved horn lifted to the lips of a helmeted Fae male was as pristine as it had been when inked millennia ago. Above the figure gleamed an eight-pointed star, the emblem of the Starborn. - HOEAB, chapter 21

“You first.” “Not a chance. I want to hear how you hid the fact that you’ve got a star inside you.” He looked down at her chest then, as if he’d glimpse it shimmering beneath her skin. But when his eyebrows flicked upward, Bryce followed his line of sight. “Well,” she said with a sigh, “that’s new.” Indeed, just visible down the V-neck of her T-shirt, a white splotch—an eight-pointed star—now scarred the place between her breasts. - HOEAB, chapter 95

Bryce has told us that she thinks it's the symbol of the Starborn, but I think it could go much deeper - all the way down to Wyrd/Urd.

She found nothing but open curiosity on Nesta’s face. Nesta said, “The scar your light comes from … it’s shaped like an eight-pointed star. Why?” Bryce peered at where the light was muffled by her T-shirt. “It’s the symbol of the Starborn, I think.” “And the magic marked you in this way?” “Yes. When I … revealed who I was, what I am, to the world, I drew the star out of my chest. It left that scar in its wake.” She glanced to Azriel. “Like a burn.” - HOFAS, chapter 12

As @wingedblooms said in her amazing meta earlier this year, she, @silverlinedeyes and I all think that Urd - who we now know is Wyrd - could be Chaos.

In addition to being significant to the Starborn fae within the Maasverse, the eight-pointed star is also known as a compass rose - or rose of the wind - as @wingedblooms has previously discussed. So isn't it suss that 'The Elain' ship (as pictured below, in the ACOTAR colouring book - far right) has what could be an eight pointed star on its sail? One with empty space - as in void of anything - on either side?

In addition to her thoughts about the compass rose, @wingedblooms has previously discussed how SJM's use of the eight-pointed star could also be inspired by the star of Ishtar. Wingedblooms made great points as usual - so I won't rehash them - BUT I have wanted to add for ages that there is also an eight-pointed star called "the Chaos star." 👀

Is the eight-pointed star a symbol of Chaos?

Source.

Aidas told us in HOEAB that it was the Void who sired the Princes of Hel, and Chaos was their dam. While the Chaos star as a symbol of Chaos began its life in a completely separate work of fiction, it has - apparently - been adopted by other authors and fandoms, so there's always the possibility that SJM might be one of those who has done/will do that.

I think it's interesting that after Bryce and co found Helena's cave under Avallen and dream-travelled to Hel, they wound up in the Temple of Chaos, by boat.

“The Temple of Chaos is a sacred place,” Apollion said sharply. “We shall never defile it with violence.” The words rumbled like thunder again. - HOFAS, chapter 59

Each of the Archeron sisters had a ship named for her (as above). Word and Wyrd are homophones of each other, though I may be clowning with the latter point. Ramiel means "thunder of god" - we'll come back to that later - but Apollion's words "rumbled like thunder"... was SJM linking Wyrd and thunder, or Ramiel, here? Will the Archeron sisters travel by boat - sail the Void - to meet, or free, Chaos?

Pushing aside every raging thought and question for the moment, Hunt kept one eye on the exit behind them as they traded the pebbled shore for the smooth temple steps. As they walked up those steps and entered a space that was a near-mirror to temples back home—indeed, its layout was identical to the last temple Hunt had stood in: Urd’s Temple. - HOFAS, chapter 59

But he tried to at least look like it—back straight, shoulders squared—as he and Hypaxia stood before the Under-King in a gray-stoned temple to Urd. The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin … they were like tattoos. - HOFAS, chapter 81

“And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” - HOFAS, chapter 81

That "unusual depiction" of Urd in the Bone Quarter sounds eerily similar to the statues in the corridor leading to the library under the House of Wind, as well as the statue of the primal goddess that Nesta found in the same house - the one by which she placed Elain's carved wooden rose.

It's almost like a mix of the two.

“Because the books were full of magic, and things they wanted to keep humans from knowing.” Rhys slid his hands into his pockets, leading me down a corridor lit only by bowls of faelight upraised in the hands of beautiful female statues, their forms High Fae and faerie alike. “The scholars and librarians refused to keep slaves of their own—some for personal reasons, but mainly because they didn’t want them accessing the books and archives.” - ACOWAR, chapter 20

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. - ACOSF, chapter 56

The Cauldron... the court of thorns and roses?

We now know that Urd is none other than Wyrd, from Erilea - a cauldron of life that is "brimming with the language of creation" (which fits with my theory that Elain might Sing Wyrd, as the language of the universe, through the murky void to See as a parallel to the priestesses in Prythian requiring darkness to commune with the Cauldron), and a force that governs worlds. One with many forms - "high fae and faerie alike"?

Could Chaos actually be Wyrd, given the similarities Hunt noted between the temples of Urd and Chaos?

Chaos the Dam?

The Mother?

But why the notable lack of tattoos - Wyrdmarks? - in the statues at the House of Wind's temple to the Mother, or on the Cauldron itself?

The Cauldron was absence and presence. Darkness and … whatever the darkness had come from. But not life. Not joy or light or hope. It was perhaps the size of a bathtub, forged of dark iron, its three legs—those three legs the king had ransacked those temples to find—crafted like creeping branches covered in thorns. I had never seen something so hideous—and alluring. Mor’s face had drained of color. “Hurry,” she said to me. “We’ve got a few minutes.” - ACOMAF, chapter 62

Could that be the influence of the Daglan/Asteri when they warped the Cauldron so long ago? Wyrd, and Her marks, were removed in the process?

“Unless … ” The boy bounced each finger off his thumb, his hand like some pale, twitchy insect. “Long ago, before the High Fae, before man, there was a Cauldron … They say all the magic was contained inside it, that the world was born in it. But it fell into the wrong hands. And great and horrible things were done with it. Things were forged with it. Such wicked things that the Cauldron was eventually stolen back at great cost. It could not be destroyed, for it had Made all things, and if it were broken, then life would cease to be. So it was hidden. And forgotten. Only with that Cauldron could something that is dead be reforged like that.” - ACOMAF, chapter 18

Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. Not a useful weapon, then. Bryce braced herself as Silene continued. The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. - HOFAS, chapter 19

And isn't it interesting that Papa Archeron carved the aforementioned rose for Elain - out of a dark, heavy wood that a few of us have wondered was ironwood (just like the bed on which each of the Archeron sisters was born) - while the legs of the Mother's iron Cauldron were covered in thorns?

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.” - ACOSF, chapter 55

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. - ACOSF, chapter 56

In yet another of her brilliant posts, @wingedblooms theorised that the Cauldron might represent the flower of life; roses* are obviously a flower (shh), so the imagery of the Cauldron being an iron rose on a thorny pedestal is, quite possibly, significant. One of the definitions of the word "court" is "a sovereign's residence." Has the series title "A Court of Thorns and Roses" been referring to the Cauldron all along?!

* Posts involving roses and rose imagery pertaining to Elain are here, here, here and here.

The Ouroboros and Ramiel's black monolith - the "seat" of Wyrd/Chaos?

But let's get back on topic. I have theorised in the past that the Dusk Court - which we now know are the Starborn Fae - may have had four items, or four treasures, similar to the Tuatha de Danann of Irish mythology (my first Dusk Court post leaned heavily into that association).

I suggested that they may have been paired as:

Dagda's Cauldron/The Undry - the Veritas

Spear of Destiny/Spear of Lugh - Narben

Sword of Light/Claiomh Solais - Gwydion

The Stone of Kings/Lia Fail - the Ouroboros

Fragarach - Truth-Teller (as a bonus)

@merymoonbeam has also posted about her own take on the four treasures of the Tuatha de Danann; we agree about the Spear of Lugh and the sword of light, but diverged with Dagda's Cauldron - she suggested it may have been the Cauldron, and I agree that makes sense as well - and the Lia Fail, which she theorised was the stone on top of Ramiel (again, a solid choice that makes sense). Now, I know that the Ouroboros might seem like an odd choice as an in-universe stone of kings, but if you read my four treasures post I still think it fits... but it's not a stone. And Mery's thoughts about the Lia Fail fit, too. Both options made sense to me.

Which brings me back to HOFAS.

Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. Not a useful weapon, then. Bryce braced herself as Silene continued. The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. - HOFAS, chapter 19

As others have suggested already, this sounds like the same black stone monolith that Cassian flew by in ACOFAS.

The conifer forests and ravines that dotted the landscape flowing to Ramiel’s foot gleamed under fresh snow. Empty and clean. No sign of the bloodshed that would occur come the start of spring. The mountain neared, mighty and endless, so wide that he might as well have been a mayfly in the wind. Cassian soared toward Ramiel’s southern face, rising high enough to catch a glimpse of the shining black stone jutting from its top. Who had put that stone atop the peak, he didn’t know, either. Legend said it had existed before the Night Court formed, before the Illyrians migrated from the Myrmidons, before humans had even walked the earth. Even with the fresh snow crusting Ramiel, none had touched the pillar of stone. A thrill, icy and yet not unwelcome, flooded his veins. It was rare for anyone in the Blood Rite to make it to the monolith. - ACOFAS, chapter 3

* A quick aside: conifer forests and ravines surround Ramiel; who smells like night-chilled mist and cedar, and may be associated with/related to Thanatos, the prince of the Ravine? Azriel!

In @wingedblooms brilliant post about Ramiel as the heart of the Night Court, she wondered if the black monolith and Cauldron together may have been a complete depiction of Wyrd, and then something clicked (and now I'm finally getting to the point lol, sorry for the wait); what if the black stone and the Ouroboros were combined as the Lia Fail/Stone of Kings? Or Wyrd/Chaos (as the Queen)? If the Cauldron is the "court" (residence) of Wyrd, and it once "sat" at the base of the black stone Monolith as @wingedblooms suggested, it checks out.

And there, against the far wall of the chamber, snow crusting its surface, its bronze casing … The Ouroboros. It was a massive, round disc—as tall as I was. Taller. And the metal around it had been fashioned after a massive serpent, the mirror held within its coils as it devoured its own tail. Ending and beginning. From across the room, with the snow … I could not see it. What lay within. I forced myself to take a step forward. Another. The mirror itself was black as night—yet … wholly clear. [...] Up close, the surface of the Ouroboros was like a gray, calm sea. Undisturbed. Sleeping. - ACOWAR, chapter 68

So now we have a black monolith as a (hypothetical) statue of Wyrd, with the Ouroboros being held high above Her head... sound familiar?

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. - ACOSF, chapter 56

But wait, there's (possibly) more...

Despite the plush furniture, the room definitely belonged to a witch: a small crystal altar to Cthona adorned the eastern wall, covered in various tools of worship; a large obsidian scrying mirror hung above it; and the fireplace built into the southern wall had various iron arms, presumably to hold cauldrons during spells. A royal suite, yes, but a workroom as well. - HOSAB, chapter 56

Ithan crossed his arms. On the desk itself sat a statuette of Cthona, carved from black stone. In one arm the goddess cradled an infant to her bare breast. In the other, she extended an orb—Midgard—out into the room. Cthona, birther of worlds. He touched it idly, gathering his courage. - HOFAS, chapter 13

Ithan was carefully setting down a figurine of Cthona giving birth on all fours—the planet Midgard crowning between her legs—when Jesiba’s phone rang. The shrill sound shattered the silence, but Ithan’s sunball reflexes kept him from dropping the fragile marble. - HOFAS, chapter 44

Could the Ouroboros represent the moon associated with the priestesses of the Mother? I mean it's big and round, and I'm a simple person haha. Was there ever a temple to Wyrd/Chaos on - or underneath - Ramiel? Does the black stone monolith represent the goddess/Wyrd, the Ouroboros the moon and the Cauldron the world to which she's giving birth? If black stone/obsidian attracts the princes of Hel, is that because obsidian is a stand in for Void and they are themselves a mixture of Void and Chaos? Is black stone used to depict Wyrd/Chaos because it acknowledges that She is attracted* to the Void? And the Ouroboros, which I have previously thought could be a portal (and hey, it's taller than Feyre, so tall enough), and @wingedblooms theorised it may be a mirror of witch glass... it seems intentional.

* This imagery reminds me of the Embrace of Solas and Cthona.

Sailing the Void

In my post about The Weaver's Song, I theorised that it might be a prophecy suggesting that the three Archeron sisters may sing, or "sail" (for lack of a better term haha) the bat brothers through the Void, either figuratively or (I hope!) literally. Either to Hel or to some other place - I would scream if it's Erilea, as @psychologynerd has theorised for Elain - but ultimately, wherever they go, I think it will be with the goal of finding and freeing Wyrd from whatever (hypothetically) binds Her, thus purifying Her and the Cauldron from the corruption of the Daglan/Asteri.

Which, speaking of, could the Asteri/Daglan have bound Wyrd with wyrdstone as like calls to like? Or did they use a crystal prism - like the one Bryce found in the Autumn King's study - to split Her light into its many facets and bind - tether - each to something or one? Did they create an anti rainbow with wyrdstone to split Wyrd apart, weakening Her?

With a sharp inhale, Bryce rallied her magic. On the exhale, she sent a stream of her starlight into the prism, her power faster than ever before. Starlight hit the prism, passed through it, and— “Huh.” It wasn’t a rainbow that emerged from the other side. Not even close. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing: a gradient beam of starlight. Where the rainbow would have been full of color, this one began in shimmering white light and descended into shadow. An anti-rainbow, as it were. Light falling into darkness, droplets of starlight raining from the highest beam into the shadowy band at the bottom, devoured by the darkness below. Like the fading light of day—of dusk. What did it mean? She was pretty sure her light had been pure before, but now, with Silene’s power mixed in … there was darkness there, too. Hidden beneath. - HOFAS, chapter 39

I've previously spoken about the need for balance to be restored to the universe, and that something may be preventing light (Chaos?) from flowing freely through the Void. If this is true, and it stems from the Asteri's corrupting efforts, it would make sense that purifying their influence on the Mother and Cauldron - who we now know is Wyrd - would help to heal the land, by unchaining the magic, as Feyre hinted in ACOMAF (and @wingedblooms has discussed extensively).

I shivered, craving the moderate winter of Velaris, wondering how it could be so temperate in the far north, but … everything in Prythian was strange. Perhaps when the wall hadn’t existed, when magic had flowed freely between realms, the seasonal differences hadn’t been so vast. - ACOMAF, chapter 23

I have more thoughts on this but I'm getting off track, hopefully I'll post them soon.

I've already discussed the possible significance of 'The Elain' ship flying a sail with the compass rose, or rose of the winds - an eight-pointed star - with nothing (void) on either side. I think it's interesting that 'The Feyre' flies two crescent moons and two diamond-type symbols that represent some of the (hypothetical) wyrdmarks on Wyrd's arms as depicted on the cover of HOFAS, and that 'The Nesta' flies a sail with a dragon and two suns, possibly referring to the dragon Ariadne from HOSAB (in Greek mythology, Ariadne was heavily associated with labyrinths, ie. finding one's way) and the sun being a star with a powerful flame? I know I sound like a broken record, but will the Archeron sisters be like the light from Eärendil's - a mariner! - star contained in the phial of Galadriel, but as the three brothers' most beloved stars? Will they light their way through the Void?

Getting back to the compass rose, Cassian refers to the eight-pointed star as a map for striking with a sword, and we know that light can be wielded as a weapon, as Yrene Towers did in Erilea, to heal Chaol and execute the Valg King Erawan.

“You didn’t ask.” He unsheathed his Illyrian blade. “Enough history.” He drew four lines in the dirt, all intersecting to form an eight-pointed star. “This is your map for striking with a sword. These eight maneuvers. You’ve learned six of them. You’ll learn the other two today, and we’ll start on the combinations.” - ACOSF, chapter 44

Additionally, Nesta suggested that the eight-pointed star was stamped on her heart.

Nesta lifted the sword and executed a perfect arcing slash. Her weight shifted to her legs just as she flipped the blade, leading with the hilt, and brought up her arm against an invisible blow. Another shift and the sword swept down, a brutal slash that would have sliced an opponent in half. Each slice was perfect. Like that eight-pointed star was stamped on her very heart. - ACOSF, chapter 50

This sounds incredibly similar to Bryce carrying a star in her chest - her star tattoo was over her heart - so I would not be surprised to learn that Feyre and Elain had something similar, too. It makes sense. Each Cauldron-Made sister carrying one third of a whole star, to replace Theia's protective magic that Bryce took with her to Midgard (as she didn't return it when she did Truth-Teller, Prythian is currently unprotected). And if the Cauldron is Wyrd's vessel, as it appears to be, this makes Feyre, Elain and Nesta supremely important. Perhaps they're not the "scum" Vesperus suggested at all.

Perhaps they are the wyrdkeys to everything? At least in Prythian, if each sister holds within her one third of a whole star that Wyrd planted Herself.

[oddsconvert]

As a noble born vampire, did August even have to practice and learn persuasion?

How did it go? 😈

AAAH! I would LOVE to answer this here and now in this ask but you've actually just inspired me to write this flashback!! This had never actually occured to me before and now I'm imagining young August being taught by his mother how to use persuasion on a helpless bloodbag 😈😈😈😌😌😌

[writeforfandoms]

Shatter Me 17

Find the series masterlist

We are approaching the end of arc 1 of this story! After chapter 20, there will be an interlude. So don't worry - we're not actually to the end yet.

Also, you may notice I'm having fun with canon events... hee hee hee 😈

Warnings: Discussion of past abuse but nothing in detail. If you've handled the story up to this point you'll be fine, all the talk is past tense and vague. Drug mention. Canon typical violence. Feelings of worthlessness. Mech is going through it right now.

Word count: 1.3k

You startled back to awareness at footsteps coming towards you, and looked up into Mando’s visor. 

“We’re going to Nevarro,” he said without preamble. “To get some reinforcements.” 

“Okay.” Something ached in your chest, sharp and sudden. Of course he needed more people. Because you were basically useless in terms of combat. Of course you couldn’t help, couldn’t be of use. Not after you’d lost the child. 

Mando hesitated there. His hands twitched at his sides and then curled into loose fists. “It wasn’t your fault.”

You blinked, startled, eyes going wide. “What?” 

“Grogu. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.” 

Your eyes burned with tears, and you swallowed hard. “Maybe.” Finally, you looked down and away from him.

He breathed out hard and dropped down to crouch in front of you. He still had ash on his armor and clothes, and you found yourself focusing on a smear on his bicep, rather than on his helmet. 

"Hey." He spoke quietly but more firmly, shifting until he was looking at you, one hand landing on your knee and squeezing. "It wasn't your fault." 

You sucked in a breath, eyes more than a little misty. You couldn't quite force words past the tightness of your throat, so you simply covered his hand on your knee and took a few moments to breathe. Mando didn't move, just waiting. Then you swallowed and managed to murmur, "I'm sorry about your ship." 

He paused and his grip tightened on you. "Will you… be okay?" 

"I've started from nothing before," you rasped, lowering your gaze again. The smile on your face felt fragile, and you kind of hated the weakness there. "It's fine." 

Mando was quiet and very, very still. "Tell me about him."

"What?" You blinked at Mando. 

He didn't repeat his request, just tipped his head at you, holding steady. 

"I…" you paused and then blew out a long breath. "I met him when I was young and dumb. He charmed me, and I let myself believe him. I didn't even object when he wanted me to move in with him, even though I was leaving my family and Tatooine and…" you trailed off, shifting to stare over Mando's shoulder. Part of you wasn't seeing the ship at all. 

Mando squeezed your knee gently again, quietly supportive and clearly listening to you. 

So you sighed and continued. "He took care of things. Told me I didn't need to worry about getting a job right away. Bought me everything." You laughed a little, bitter and cracked. "I was a damn fool." 

"What happened?" The question was quiet, and he shifted to kneel in front of you. The new position gave you more height over him, forced him to look up at you. But it also made talking easier, somehow. 

"He made sure I was dependent on him before he did anything. And then… well. There's not much he didn't do. I didn't know he was involved in selling spice, but he is." You paused to lick your lips. "It took me a while to sneak credits, a little at a time. Ber didn't catch me at it. I don't think he ever thought I would actually leave." You huffed something like a laugh. "But I did. Didn't take anything with me, caught a transport back to Tatooine, and never looked back." 

You were both quiet for a few long moments, you looking at the wall, Mando still knelt at your feet. Finally, his hand squeezed your knee gently, and you blinked the world back into focus to look at him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You shook your head, lips twisting in a grimace. “None of that was your fault. Besides, things are better now.” You paused, considering, and then nodded once. “Even now. Still better.” 

Mando was quiet at that before he shifted his weight, just a little. “After we get the child back, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. He sounded confident. Firm. But not boastful. And, well, having seen him in action, you were sure he could make Ber leave you alone for good. His confidence was a balm to your heart. 

And, perhaps, the last bit of courage you needed. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. Carefully, slowly, you lifted your hand to the cheek of his helmet. Mando went even more still than normal, barely even seeming to breathe. “Thank you, Mando.”

“Din.”

You blinked at him. “Hmm?”

“My name. Din Djarin.” He sounded even raspier than usual, his hand squeezing your knee again. 

Warmth filled your chest, almost effervescent. “Din,” you repeated softly. He leaned in a little, the helmet pressing harder into your hand, warming quickly to your body temperature. 

The moment was broken by footsteps, light but still audible. Din leaned back to look, and you straightened, your hand falling away from him. Fennec stepped into the hold with the two of you, her gaze flitting between you. But she didn’t say anything about your position. 

“We’ll be landing shortly,” she said instead. 

Mando - Din - nodded once. “I won’t need long,” he murmured. 

Fennec nodded, gaze flitting between you two again. But she didn’t ask anything else, instead striding past the two of you to do something else. 

You watched her go, just to give yourself something to do so you didn’t have to think too hard. “Who are you hoping to bring on board?” you asked softly, finally looking back at Din. 

“Cara,” he answered easily. He stood, hesitating for a moment before he sat next to you. You couldn’t help but feel a little warm at the proximity. “She can help.”

Your mood soured again, slowly but surely spiraling once again. “I see.” You did see. You weren’t even upset. Not with him, not with Cara. He needed help to get Grogu back. 

And this was simply something you couldn’t help with. Couldn’t fix. Couldn’t take apart and put back together. 

“Hey.” Din leaned closer, bumping you companionably. “We’ll get him back.”

“I know.” And you did. You knew that Din would do anything to get Grogu back. So you forced your shoulders down, forced yourself to smile into the visor. “I know you will.” 

The ship touched down with a little groan, and you frowned. It definitely needed some work. Maybe when you were at a longer stop somewhere… 

Din stood and looked down at you. “I won’t be long,” he assured you. And then he was gone, turning away and striding out of the ship. 

You remained seated, tipping your head back and closing your eyes. This was one of the first things your father had taught you. ‘Listen to the ship,’ he’d tell you, holding a hand over your eyes. ‘Once you know the sound of a ship, what you hear can tell you a lot.’

You smiled at the memory. He had been right. And this ship was telling you a lot - lack of proper maintenance, probably an older ship. Definitely needed some care. 

But it wasn’t your place to say so. Especially not with current time restraints. 

You did, however, make a mental note to speak to the owner, see if you could arrange to do some work on the ship. For your own peace of mind, if nothing else. 

It took Din less time than you expected to return with Cara, who nodded companionably to you. You returned the nod and settled back in your seat. They had planning to do, things that wouldn’t involve you and that you wouldn’t get involved in. 

You’d just do what you’d gotten very good at, over the years with Ber. Stay quiet and small and out of the way.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eight: where did i go wrong? | read chapter seven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 3.7k

━ warnings: canon typical violence, blood, etc

━ masterlist

━ a/n: sorry for disappearing! essentially, i started grad school and it is So Much Work. but if you'd like some unnecessary rambles on tim and wally's relationship here and in light of their og meeting in robin (1993), you can also find my thoughts on that here <3

 The next day, you don’t hear much from Steph. 

She does text you a few times, mostly reassurances and that she’s working to pull something together. You don’t quite understand but she was so convincing the day before, you let it go. 

You mostly spend the day—after sleeping in—learning your new phone, excited at having something new and so high-tech to play with. Flash texts you several times during the day. Blurry selfies and equally blurry pictures of Keystone and Central. Even a couple of the New York skyline, as he informs you he decided to drop in and visit a few friends. 

You can’t send him much. The clouds that hang in the sky, waiting to pour down on unsuspecting Gothamites at a moment’s notice. The feral cat that hangs out in the alley by your apartments, who you get close enough to to catch mid-hiss. The person on the subway carrying what you suspect to be a possum in their bag but Flash insists is actually an opossum. Whatever the difference is. 

There is a difference!

idk sounds made up

You’re from the city. Of course you think that.

ok WOW

you’re blaming my dead parents for where they settled????

Yes.

wow

You go into work in relatively high spirits, considering everything. 

Black Bat stops by for some gummy worms and a can of Red Bull and you tease her a bit for it.

“Signal’s influence?”

“Better than coffee.”

“Fair enough.”

Red hasn’t been by, you think, watching her go. Not yesterday and not today, though it’s early. He usually stops by nearly every night, if not for a couple minutes. But nothing specifically decrees that he comes by… You’re just used to it, you suppose, and last night’s absence was noticeable.

There’s still time, though. Maybe you’ll see him later tonight. 

Overhead, the AC turns on. They fixed it, along with that electrical issue Red Robin caused last week. It works a little too well, though. These last few days have had you uncomfortably cold, so today, you come armed with a hoodie—Tim’s hoodie, the only piece of clothing you’ve ever managed to steal from him. A bit baggy on him and even more so on you, it’s a pleasant shade of azure blue. One of your more precious possessions since it’s, like you said, the only thing you really have from him. Also a bit of an indulgence right now but… you’re past the point of caring. 

Maritza pops by a little while later, waving at you. 

“Hey, Mari. Here for a Slurpee?”

“That, and I was wondering if you guys have any pain cream… Abuela’s back is hurting her and we ran out yesterday,” she says, lips pursed, glancing at the aisles. 

“Pain cream,” you repeat thoughtfully, stepping around the counter. “We should. Let’s see.”

She follows you to one of the center aisles.

“How’s summer break been so far?” you ask, running your eyes over displays of toothpaste, disposable toothbrushes, and other basic items. 

“Boring,” she sighs. “It’s too hot to do anything.”

You chuckle, tucking your hands in the pocket of Tim’s hoodie; your fingers are cold. They always seem to be. “Books are excellent ways to preoccupy the time.”

“Think I’ve read every book at the library,” she grumbles, which probably isn’t that much of an exaggeration. Gotham’s public library system is drastically lacking; it was only in May did Wayne Enterprises announce that they were investing more money into it. By now, they probably haven’t reached the library here in the Upper West Side. 

“You should check out GU’s then. Kids get free library cards and our selection is fairly expansive. I’m sure you could get away with checking out some things for your abuela, too. At least until they fix everything in the one here.”

“Huh. Maybe.” She moves ahead of you, scanning the rest of the aisle. “Oh, hey, you guys do have some.”

She reaches for a box. 

The door opens. You turn. 

The wink of the kitchen knife is the first thing you see, then the trembling hand, and then the owner to whom it belongs, too. A scrawny man wearing a grey hoodie, the same hood pulled over his head. 

It’s not great at hiding his face, you think dimly, every muscle inside you locking into place. Mari freezes behind you, breath audibly catching in a gasp as he turns the knife sharply on you.

For a second, the three of you just look at each other. 

You break the silence first. 

“All the money is in the register. Take it.”

A lengthy pause, one that amplifies the dread petrifying your insides. Your new phone, with Flash’s contact info, sits in the pocket of your hoodie, weighing it down; your fingers are laced together, cold, hovering right above it and you recall the rundown you’d been given by Flash last night, the�� other not-quite-normal aspects of your new phone. 

“Okay, so, on top of the League encryption stuff, there is something else.”

“Are you tracking me?”

“Not… exactly.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Your location is logged with the League,” he admits. “But it’s secure. You’re registered with me, so only I can look at it. My wife’s phone is like yours. Her information is there, too. A lot of us do it with our families. Not just to keep sensitive information secure, but there’s… a risk that comes with being with us.”

You frown at him. “Does she know?”

He looks horrified. “Of course she does. I don’t go around just tracking her without her knowledge. That’s weird. And messed up. I don’t even actively do it. Not unless she’s been kidnapped or she wants me to. That’s what I’m trying to say. Your location is being tracked but I’m not peeking in on it. No one is, unless a need comes up. An emergency kind of need. And that brings me to my next thing.”

He pauses, looking at you, calculating, but you just nod for him to continue. 

“You have my number,” he says. “So, you can call me. For emergencies or if you just want to talk about your day. But in the case that you can’t call me, if you’re in some kind of danger…” He plucks the phone out of your grasp, turning it over in his hands, pointing to the power button on the side. “Press this three times and it’ll send an SOS signal to me, along with your location. I’ll come. Okay?”

“Are you… sure?”

He seems affronted. “I don’t just do this for anyone. I thought you’d have seen that by now. You’re…” he stops, frowning deeply. “You mean a lot to me, kid. If I can save you, if I have the opportunity to keep you safe, I’ll take it. I wouldn’t ever ask you to leave Gotham because it’s your home and I know the Bats hang around but… this just makes me feel better. You have a direct line to me. Use it.”

“Batman probably won’t like that.”

“Batman can suck it,” he says petulantly. “Especially after what he did to you last week. I take care of my own. No matter where they are. Got it?”

You got it. 

The thought still astounds you even now, that Flash cares that much about you and how ironic it is that you don’t even know who he is under the cowl but maybe you don’t need to. This is still him, isn’t it?

And you would heed his words. Of course you would. You have no interest in dying. You have no hangups about being saved. Flash didn’t think you incompetent, it was just a precaution, a necessity for living in the world you do.

That is true now more than ever.

Especially with how aware you are of Mari behind you, too. 

“Take your hands outta your pockets,” he says.

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

“Just take the money, man.”

You have to be careful but quick. If you could just unlace your fingers and reach for your phone…

Of course, you have no idea how quickly the signal will reach Flash or how fast he’ll even be able to get here…

You guess you’ll just have to trust him. Trust him and his capabilities.

A step forward. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You can hear Mari behind you, her breath quick and uneven. You’re most worried about her, to be honest. If you go down, what’s going to happen to her? You dread to think about it.

“Take your hands out of your fuckin’ pocket,” he hisses; despite the severity of his voice, his hand is trembling. You don’t get why he won’t just grab the money and go. 

He must think you can call the police or something but even then, it’s not as if the GCPD are reliable. As if they can do anything. 

As for you, there is nothing else you can do. You need to call him. 

“Mari, run!” 

Your hand grapples for your phone at the same time. 

You hear the snick of sneakers on the tiled floors, your fingers slip over the sides of the new case currently hugging your phone, and he surges forward and then—

Just a mere spark, one that jolts you as you realize what happened. It’s small at first, then bigger, then massive, a forest fire eating you alive from the inside out, burning white-hot. 

You can’t do anything. 

You stare at the man in front of you, closer now, close enough to dig his knife right into the soft flesh of your belly. His eyes are wide, too. Like he can’t believe he just did that. Neither can you.

But the worst of it comes when he pulls the knife out. 

The sound that escapes you is foreign to your ears. Your knees give out. One hand presses to the source of your pain, the other lands hard on the tiled floor; your wrist smarts, your arm trembling as you hold yourself up. 

You’re barely aware of anything other than the pain. Throbbing heat, warmth rapidly spreading through the front of your shirt and hoodie. Your vision blurs, from tears and from the pain, your heart pounds so hard, you feel it in your teeth, hear it in your ears above the rush of your blood. 

You manage a glance behind you, relieved to see Mari is gone and hopefully back in the safety of the apartment building next door. Ahead of you, the man is scrambling to get the cash register open, cursing like a sailor and eventually yanking it off the counter and smashing it on the ground, ducking out of your view.

God, you need to call Flash. Not 911, they won’t get here in time, no way, you need him. Before the man decides to cut his losses and kill you. You hope he’ll just take the money and run, but you’ve seen his face, surely he knows that puts him in that much more danger of being arrested—

The door opens. You hear your name from a familiar voice and then someone steps into view. 

Tim’s eyes are wide as he looks at you, horrified, but behind him, your attacker shoots up from the ground and you choke out a warning, an urging to run, to get out of here, you don’t know what you’d do if anything happened to him, no, no, you can’t lose him like that. 

He whips around just as the man swings himself over the counter, letting out something of a war cry, cash held in one hand and the knife in the other. It gleams red under the light. He lunges.

“Tim!”

But his fatal injury does not happen. Instead, you watch him duck out of the way, moving faster, more gracefully than you’ve ever seen, like he’s done this before and the man doesn’t expect it, stumbling with his own momentum. Not stopping, either, Tim grabs the man’s wrist, heaving him over his shoulder until he slams into the ground hard. It’s brutal. It’s violent. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen from Tim, your Tim who… who hates needles and always bemoans going to get the yearly flu shot with you and Steph, your Tim who can get impatient, snippy, but not violent. 

You don’t understand. With the haze of pain, that fact feels oddly upsetting. 

The door opens again. He whips around, geared up for another fight, but it’s just Spoiler, it’s—

Golden hair, familiar blue eyes. A face you know by heart. Even with the bottom of her face hidden. 

They’re both at your side in an instant. In good timing, too, because your arm gives out but before you can crash to the ground, Tim catches you, turning you over in his arms and gently laying you back onto the tile.

“You’re okay,” he says quickly, eyes scanning you frantically. “You’re okay.”

All the movement tugs at your belly, flames flaring for a brief moment, making you dizzy with pain, choking out your voice, leaving you to blink the tears out of your eyes and look up at your friends.

You don’t like the look on their faces. Horrified. Full of dread. It hurts you. 

“Fuck,” Stephanie Brown, also known as Spoiler, says, digging through pouches in her utility belt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oracle, where is the nearest hospital?”

“I know where it is,” Tim says, snapping into action, his hands reaching for the hoodie. “Off Murphy Ave.”

Rrrrrrip.

He tears through the front part of your hoodie—his hoodie—like it’s nothing. Both their faces drop as they see your shirt underneath it but you’re more focused on the first part of what just happened. 

“Did you—have to tear it?” you whine. “This is the only hoodie I have from you…”

“You can have all of my hoodies,” he promises, reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

Another ripping sound. 

Steph reaches underneath you. “Didn’t go through.”

Tim nods. “The sooner we get her to the hospital, the better. I don’t like how much blood she’s losing.”

“I can hear you, you know,” you mutter, more petulant than you want but considering you are bleeding from a stab wound, you think you get to be. 

They both let out strained chuckles. Tim reaches for one of the pouches of Steph’s belt. You wonder how he knows which one to open. You wonder a lot of things. Where he learned to kick ass. Whether he has always known Steph is Spoiler. How he is so calm right now. It tickles at you, like you have all the pieces to the puzzle but the full picture still isn’t coming out. 

And oh, yeah, the burning throb of the stab wound is really sapping your concentration, too. Cold creeps in at the edges, your fingers feeling icy as you clench them. You shiver violently, though it hurts to move like that. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Steph says soothingly, squeezing your hand. “We just really need to get you to a hospital to guarantee that.”

“You should—fuck!” The gauze Tim presses to the wound sends shockwaves of pain through you. Black spots appearing in your vision, breath squeezing in your throat.

He says your name loudly. “Breathe.”

“Fuck you,” you wheeze out, trying and failing to curl away from the pressure he is currently applying to your wound. “That—hurts—”

“I know,” he says, pained. “But I have to. We have to. I’m sorry.”

“He’s right,” Steph says, brushing some of your hair away from your face. “Come on, talk to me. Ignore what he’s doing. What were you going to say before?”

“My phone,” you mumble, shivering. “Flash gave it to me. S-Said if I press the power button three times, it sends a distress signal to him.”

“That’s kind of him,” Tim mutters, sounding, dare you say it, jealous, which, in your haze of pain, just pisses you off. 

“You absolute asshole, you don’t get to—”

“Stop it!” Steph snaps, lunging for your phone. “Tim, focus on saving her life and not on being an ass right now, okay? I’m calling him. We need that kind of speed. She’s losing too much blood and the hospital is too far.”

He sobers significantly. A bloodied hand reaches for yours. You’re only aware of it because you see it, the sight of his pale skin covered in your blood, his fingers wrapping around yours. He squeezes.

“Can you feel that?”

“K-Kind of.”

“Do it, Spoiler.”

“I’m doing it, Timothy.”

She is. She holds your phone in gloved hands, pressing the button three times, then scoots away from your head, lifting your feet over her lap. 

Tim continues his work, the pressure he continues to apply to the wound making your head spin. Exhaustion creeps in at the edges, making your eyelids drag with each blink. 

No, no, falling asleep is bad. You’ve seen enough movies and TV shows of injured characters to know that. You have to stay awake. 

Steph watches you, concerned. “How long—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence as a sharp gust of wind hits all of you. It knocks things off the shelves and then, all of you are blinking up at the Flash, blue lightning fading away.

He breathes your name and in the next blink, he’s next to you, on his knees. 

“Hey, Flash,” you croak. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he says softly, a gloved hand resting tenderly on your forehead. He looks at Tim and Steph. “Hospital?”

“It’s—”

Tim cuts Steph off, staring hard at Flash. “She’ll most likely need a blood transfusion. Her blood type is AB positive—”

“And she’s allergic to penicillin,” Steph tacks on quickly. 

“Got it.” He sweeps you into his arms and you whimper at the movement. “And the hospital?”

“Intersection of Murphy Avenue and Elliot Circle,” Steph tells him.

“Be careful,” Tim stresses. 

Flash gives him a frosty look. “I got it. You’ve done enough.”

Stop fighting, you want to say, but Flash is delightfully warm and you’re so tired. If you rest your eyes for just a little bit, that’s fine, right? 

“Flash—!”

A sharp tug in your belly, gravity pulling on you, and darkness falls over you like a blanket. You surrender without fight.

Voices puncture the veil of darkness. Soft murmurs, soothing tones. 

“She’ll be okay, Red,” a woman murmurs. “You got her here on time.”

“I know, Lin,” someone else says and wait, you know that voice. It’s Flash. He sounds so… harrowed. “But I just… I don’t know.”

“You know what the doctors said. The danger is gone. And with you here… maybe…” she trails off, tone implying something you aren’t privy to.

A deep breath. “Do you think so? I could’ve, earlier, but I didn’t know if it would hurt her and I didn’t want to take the chance…”

“Well… I think you’re a big softy and she means a lot more to you than you ever realized. So… maybe.”

“Maybe,” he echoes back and you want to know, want to ask what exactly it is he and this mystery woman are talking about but you slip back under again.

The next time you resurface, it’s to cutting words and a tension so thick, you feel it, too, even with all your senses muddled, knee-deep in a haze.

“I don’t mind her,” Flash says coldly. “But you, too?”

“She’s my friend. I have a right to see her, too,” someone else says—Tim, you realize. It’s Tim, his tone cutting, temper on the rise. 

“The way you’ve treated her these past two months doesn’t say much about friendship to me.”

“I was going to tell her—”

“Oh, you were going to tell her? Only after you finally fucked it all up being caught hanging out with your friends when you explicitly said you were too busy to hang out with her? Yeah, that’s real great.”

“You haven’t told her,” Tim points out petulantly. 

“Really mature,” Flash scoffs. “I have a good reason to keep it from her. What’s yours? It’s not like you were deprived of her attention. You’re friends. Why the hell would you favor Red Robin over Tim Drake?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand—”

“No, I bet you don’t, because it’s easier to excuse yourself that way, isn’t it?” he seethes. “You’re just like him, you know. Just like him.”

You don’t know who they’re talking about. Or maybe you do and it’s just not coming to you. But the comparison isn’t a kind one. The way Tim snaps back in the next second affirms that. 

“She wasn’t talking to me! I was—worried!”

“So, you should’ve talked to her! Instead of going behind her back and befriending her as Red Robin! What the hell did you achieve by doing that?”

“We were going to tell her, too, you know,” the woman from before says, her tone disapproving. “Very soon, in fact. But his situation is different from yours and you know that.”

Silence stretches on.

“Well, I still want to see her,” Tim says quietly, the fight leaving his voice.

“How—” Steph. Her voice cuts out, thick in a way that is unfamiliar to you. She clears her throat. “How is she?”

“Stable,” the mystery woman informs her. 

“Why hasn’t she woken up?” Tim asks. You can just hear the frown in his voice and the vision of him forms easily in your mind, that familiar wrinkle between his brows, pretty pink lips pursed. 

“Anesthesia still needs to wear off,” the woman says. “She’ll wake up soon.”

“But until then,” Flash cuts in, tone still severe. “Feel free to make yourself scarce. Stephanie can hang around. But you? No way in hell.”

“You think she wants that?” Tim shoots back, anger returning. “You don’t know anything. You have no idea. You’re assuming—”

“Yeah, I am. She’s not awake. She can’t tell us. Until then, I—we—can make those decisions.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m sure she’ll love that—”

“I know what you’re thinking and we’re doing this with good intentions. You can’t say the same, can you?”

That doesn’t help. Fans the flames, if anything, as they keep arguing. 

Ugh. You don’t want to hear this. 

Like mercy, you slip under again. 

reblogs are appreciated!

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[hugmekenobi]

The Long Haul

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot 

Gif by @ivonhart​

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: The work from Cid doesn’t stop despite past events but this one sees you needing a little bit more help.

Warnings: Mentioned canon-typical violence, no y/n, swearing, a mention of a past spicy moment (not described at all but putting it here anyway), mentions of death, mild hurt/comfort, descriptions of illness and vomiting, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy scare, pet name (sweetheart), awkwardness, the Force and Force communication works how I say it works, Star Wars flowers do what I need them to and Star Wars first aid being what I need it to be, overall fluff and feelings

Masterlist for S1 Chapters

Word Count: 2.4K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: It’s the first oneshot with these two actually together! Hope you enjoy! Can’t wait to share the other ones and S2 with you all! To those I’ve tagged, let me know if you don’t want tagged in these oneshots and I’ll keep it to the series and if there’s anyone else who wants tagged, just let me know :)

“You alright?” Hunter called down as he peered over the edge of the small ledge. You had been tackled by the man they had been tracking and had tumbled over the side. Thankfully it wasn’t a huge drop, and the lush grass and dense bunch of flowers would have lessened the impact but he checked nevertheless.

As you felt the dead weight on top of you, you couldn’t help but think that the last time someone had been this close to you had been a long six weeks ago. Cid had been keeping you guys pretty busy, and you knew the only reason you had that time with him in the first place was because the squad had politely, but awkwardly, given you the Marauder for a few hours.

You ignored the pain in your spine and heaved a sigh as you pushed the dead body off you. You took your vibroblade out his chest and wiped it on his top before you brushed off some of pollen that had gotten onto your hands from the pile of flowers you had landed in.

You walked over to where your blaster had landed and picked it up before you glanced up to where Hunter and Echo were. “Have I ever mentioned how much I can’t stand using this thing?” You waved your blaster for emphasis.

Hunter smiled under his helmet. You were fine. “You may have said something once or twice.”

“Well, it’s a pain in my ass. It’s jammed at some point on every mission since I got it! Gotta say the Jedi knew what they were talking about with this one.”

Echo let out a short laugh. “You ever consider that you might be the problem?”

You took your mask down and scowled up at him. “No.” You opened the man’s vest and took out the necklace and you recognised the diamond that was hanging from it as the one Cid had shown you before sending you on this mission. “This is it, right?”

Hunter nodded down at you before he spoke into his comm. “Tech, Wrecker, Omega, we got the necklace. Meet back at the ship. You coming up?” He asked you.

“Sir, yes sir.” With that, you took a few steps back before you called on the Force to assist your jump back up to where Echo and Hunter were.

Hunter wrapped his arm around your waist and the three of you began the walk back to the Marauder.

--

As the ship left the Glee Anselm, your eyes suddenly began to feel very heavy, and your limbs were screaming for rest. You put it down to the fact that you had been searching for that guy on that planet for the past two days with very little rest. Every time Hunter had got a read on him, the circumstances seemed to change and put those environmental factors combined with avoiding the Imperial presence, well, it had made for a stressful mission. I’m going to lie down for a little bit, you told Hunter.

Hunter regarded you curiously. He hadn’t seen any physical injuries after your fall today, but you hadn’t slept very much on this mission, so he just nodded before he turned his attention back to Tech as he gave the estimated arrival time.

You walked back to your bunk and unholstered your weapons and laid down and sleep came a lot faster that you had expected.

 --

“Sweetheart.” Hunter shook your shoulder for the fifth time since the ship had landed, adding a little bit more vigour to it but still you made no move to wake.

“She’s still not awake?” Omega asked as she came to stand next to him.

“No...” Hunter said distantly. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong, you never slept like this.

“I can get her up.” Wrecker said happily as he picked up an abandoned weapons crate.

“Wrecker, I’m not sure she would respond very well to that.” Tech advised.

“It’ll get her up, won’t it? Hunter?”

Hunter kept his eyes on you but nodded his permission.

Wrecker lifted the crate high above his head before he brought it to the ground with a loud crash.

You jolted awake. “Jeez! I’m up, calm down…” You trailed off from any further comment as you felt a strong wave of nausea rise through you.

Hunter laid a hand on your knee. “Well, we tried do to it quieter but you-” He didn’t get to finish since you had quickly stood up and pushed past him, hand over your mouth as you ran to the refresher.

You just made it before you rather undignifiedly and violently vomited. Hunter’s hand holding your hair whilst the other one rubbed gentle circles on your back only provided you some comfort.

After you finished what felt like spewing your guts out, you wiped your mouth and sheepishly turned to face the concerned faces that were all staring at you since you realised you forgot to shut the door. “So sorry, that was disgusting.”

“I’ll be right back.” Hunter said before he set off towards the middle of the ship.

You held your tired body against the doorframe and focused on ignoring your unsettled stomach, a task that was easier said than done. You gratefully took your flask of water from Omega who looked at you anxiously as she stepped away.

Echo and Wrecker looked on worriedly.

Tech brought his datapad out. “What have you eaten in the past 2-3 days? Did you drink anything strange on Glee Anslem?”

“I’ve not eaten or drank anything strange, Tech. I’d know if I had.” You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the nausea return.

“Okay, let’s go further back. What about injuries? Did anyone we came across manage to cut you with anything? It could be a wound that’s infected.”

You shook your head, “Same missions as you guys, you’d know.” You said through clenched teeth as you struggled to push the nausea away.

“What about-”

You held up a finger to stop him from continuing before you swiftly turned away, shut the door, and threw up yet again.

After you sorted yourself out, you opened the door again. “Well? Anything?”

Tech awkwardly shifted his goggles and looked up from his datapad. “I, uh, can think of one explanation.”

“Great, what is it and what’s the cure?” You asked tiredly.

“Um, well, first of all, is there a possibility that you’re uh, could you maybe be pregnant?” He stammered out uneasily.

Before your brain could catch up to what he just asked, you were distracted by a loud clatter.

All heads turned to face Hunter who had dropped the medkit.

Hunter quickly threw the items back in, ignoring Tech’s slightly irritated look. He straightened up. “Omega, wait outside the ship.”

“But what does that-” She started to argue.

“Now!” Hunter said firmly.

She let out an aggravated sigh but complied.

Hunter waited until she was out before he spoke again. “No, Tech, she’s not… are you?” He asked as he made his way back towards you.

You only shook your head and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“I only asked because you two are in a relationship and, I um, assume there is a physical aspect to it. Not that I’m thinking about that, I only meant that that- what I mean is that there is a statistical likelihood-” Tech stuttered.

“Hey, Tech.” You interrupted.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Gladly.” Tech replied, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you.” Echo and Wrecker muttered.

“Bottom line is, I’m not pregnant so there’s gotta be another explanation.” You continued before you felt your knees grow weak.

Hunter could feel your body grow heavier as you leaned against him. “Come on, let’s get you back to the bunk.” He put his arm around your shoulder and supported you as he led you towards it. As he helped you lie down and he saw the weariness written across your face and the gaunt look of your skin, he hoped that they’d figure out what was wrong with you and figure it out soon.

--

Tech rubbed his forehead and began to fiddle with his datapad again. He couldn’t understand what was wrong you and they weren’t getting any closer to figuring it out and it was driving him crazy. “Okay, one more time.”

Hunter had removed his armour for you, and you were in the space between his legs with your back pressed against his chest.

You let out an exhausted sigh and angled your head towards Tech. You had quickly formed this routine where you would go throw up, come back to lie with Hunter, Echo and Wrecker would offer their sympathies, Omega- who was allowed back on the ship and after she realised no one was going to tell her what Tech had meant earlier and the closest she got was a ‘we’ll tell you when you’re older’- would give you more water, and after this, Tech would ask you to go over your routine from the past missions you’d gone on. “I don’t know what else there is to tell, Tech. I’ve eaten nothing but ration bars since we were sent on all these missions. I only drank water on Glee Anselm. No one has wounded me. I felt fine when we were looking for that guy, the only trouble we ran into was when my blaster jammed, and I fell into that bunch of flowers. After-”

“Flowers?” Tech’s head snapped up at this new information.

“What?” You asked.

“You hadn’t mentioned the flowers before. What did they look like?”

“Um.” You furrowed your brow as you tried to remember but, to your horror, nothing was coming to mind, you were too exhausted to even remember something as simple as that. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt nauseous again.

“They were white with purple spots on them.” Echo answered for you.

Tech tapped his datapad. “Ah ha!” He said triumphantly.

“What is it, Tech?” Hunter asked urgently as he heard you let out a soft groan.

“Those flowers were likely Pixy Cloves. They have a defence mechanism that involves secreting spores into the bloodstream through the skin of whatever touches them. It can cause a serious infection in their host. There’s no cure, unfortunately, but it’s not fatal. Your body just needs to flush it out. You should feel better within the next 4-5 days.” Tech said brightly.

“I take it ‘flush it out’ means I’m going to be spending a lot of time in that refresher?” You asked glumly.

Hunter rubbed your arm soothingly.

“I can give you something to ease the nausea but that’s all I’m afraid.” Tech replied.

You huffed out a puff of air. “Well, no sense in you guys staying here.” You fished the necklace out of your pocket and handed it to Omega. “Better explain the situation to Cid and give this to her give so we get paid, and she stays ‘happy’ with us.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Omega asked as she took the necklace from you.

“Yeah, kid, don’t worry. Thanks for the help.”

“Hope you feel better soon!” Omega laid her hand on yours before she made her way to the exit.

“Yeah, feel better!” Wrecker said, patting your shoulder gently.

“Thanks, Wrecker.”

“I take it you’re staying?” Echo asked Hunter after he gave your hand a consoling squeeze.

“No.” You said.

“Yes.” Hunter corrected.

“Hunter, this is not going to be a pretty time. When I’m not sleeping, I’m going to be in that refresher violently vomiting.” You said, looking up at him.

“I could always use more sleep and I don’t mind that.”

“Hunter-”

“I’m in this for the long haul. A bit of throwing up isn’t going to scare me away from you.” Hunter kissed your forehead.

“It should. I’ll hardly be at my best.” You maintained with a grumbled sigh.

Hunter stroked your arm to reassure you. “I know we’re new at this but I’m pretty sure looking after each other is part of the description of what we are. Plus, we’ve kinda been doing that all along anyway. A new label doesn’t need to change that.”

You did have to admit that he had a point. You’d both seen each other in less than desirable states before your romantic relationship began. You figured you were just feeling more pressure now, but you could past it and you guessed this would be a good test. I mean if seeing me heaving into a toilet bowl doesn’t scare him away then what will? You thought to yourself before you gave him a small but grateful smile. “Okay, if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

“I guess we’ll see you later then.” Echo said before he and Wrecker left the ship.

As he took the medicine out, Tech made a mental note to tidy the medkit up once you didn’t need it anymore. He walked over to you and gave you the injection. “This should help with the nausea. Hunter can give you more if you need them over the next few days.” He patted your knee. “I’ll check in later.” He stood up and made his way to the door.

“Thank you, Tech.” You said.

Tech smiled and nodded at you before he joined the others, and they all made their way to the parlour.

--

“Thanks for staying.” You said as Hunter came back from shutting the door.

“You’d do the same for me and I’ll take time alone with you any way I can.” Hunter said with a smile.

You managed to let out a quiet laugh before you moved so Hunter could slide in next to you. “Do you know what I’ve realised?” You mumbled as you closed your eyes snuggled closer to him.

“What’s that?” Hunter whispered as he gently pulled you against him.

“That this is all that damn blaster’s fault. If it hadn’t jammed, none of this would’ve happened.”

Hunter chuckled and planted another kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re going to be just fine. Get some sleep.”

You weren’t sure how long would you sleep for before that next inevitable urge to vomit struck but if you had Hunter with you, you were sure you could get through this and anything else the galaxy would throw your way.

Masterlist

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy​, @tpwkcalli​, @fuckoffthanos​, @arctrooper69​, @graciexmarvel​, @flyingkangaroo​, @nightmonkeysstuff​, @a-streakofazure​, @ladytano420​, @dragonrider9905​, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf​, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Phantom

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Nothing that's not Canon. But just in case, mentions of torture

Author’s Note: Its a day early but I dont care. A little bit more of torture. But I keep writing and adding more. 😅 I promise action and more next chapter. Characters might be a little out of character (Tony mostly) because I was having issues writing. My muse has been a fickle bitch lately. As a reminder, please be sure to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it. 

She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn. 

"FRIDAY, pull up any footage that may have caught a glimpse of Y/N." 

Tony’s voice had caused Bucky to put everything back into its place before almost slamming the top back onto the box earning looks from the others. He simply shrugged his shoulders before bringing the box to his side. The vibranium keeping the box in a tight hold. 

Unfortunately the only footage found was time stamped two days before her capture. A projected video came up from Tony’s watch. A tourist couple had been recording the vendors area. 

Bucky had moved closer to look at the video footage as it began to play. They could hear the loud environment as the video began to pan over the vendors. People were chatting away and you could hear some laughter in the background. 

Different vendors panned within seconds before a particular stand came into view. While the person behind the camera had been focused only on the goods each vendor had, they had unknowingly caught Y/N on camera. 

Bucky watched as she spoke with a vendor. Watched as she would occasionally take in her surroundings, keeping watch of what could be lurking. A moment later the vendor pointed to something up and off screen. Y/N nodded her head a moment later before handing over cash. It wasn't long after that the person filming had moved past that particular stand and filmed the next vendor. 

"This is how they found her. " Natasha noted. 

"Why didn't we get notified about this clip?" Bucky asked. 

With the recent missions, the data changed the sequence of importance in regards to Y/N.  FRIDAY began. It earned a glare from Bucky. The more the team has cleaned up Hydra, the less information there is on her. Facial recognition scans have not been successful until now. 

"Why don't we take this back to the quinjet?" Natasha offered. She could see the look of frustration and anger growing on Bucky. Her head nodded towards the shop owner who was leaning on the countertop listening with curiosity. 

Bucky shook his head slightly before he turned and walked out of the shop. The sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut had caused the bells to rattle loudly causing the shop owner to flinch as it did.  

"You know how this argument is going to happen, right?" Natasha asked as she watched Bucky through the window. 

A long sigh came from Tony. "Yeah. If she was anyone else, she shouldn't have dropped lower on the priority list. I dropped the ball."

Bucky’s pace back to the quinjet had been quick. Each step he had taken seemed to cause the people around him to open a path for him to pass. He was sure that his stance was probably intimidating but at the moment he was trying to calm the internal storm that was brewing. And endless cycle of questions playing through his head. 

How could she drop on the priority list? 

How could FRIDAY not alert there was a video of her? 

Would she be in Hydra’s hold now if I had known sooner? 

Would I have made it in time to prevent it? 

He didn't even notice the others coming towards him after looking through the apartments. He hadn't heard when Steve yelled out his name to get his attention several times.  Nor did he notice the medium size box that Wanda held in her arms. 

_____

The lies have finally caught up to me. I thought I burned and buried it deep enough. The hurt on Bucky’s face was proof that it hadn't been deep enough. I deserved every reaction he gave tonight before giving me the slightest moment of having a real birthday. I didn't deserve his kindness. If I'm being honest I should be locked away in a cell somewhere. Not currently sitting under an overpass for the night. 

I can't stop seeing the look on his face and it kills me. I hurt him and I betrayed him in a way that there's no going back from. 

Bucky knew he needed a moment to cool off. That up until recently everyone believed that Y/N was keeping to herself and doing a damn good job of it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to argue with Stark about it all.  But in reality, the blame game wouldn't do any of them any good. 

Once he was on the quinjet alone, he found himself pulling out her journal and flipping through the pages. Part of him yelled that he shouldn't go through it. But the other part had wanted to believe there was something in there she'd leave for him to find. 

His attention caught her birthday entry. As much as he tried to forget how things happened that night, they've haunted him since. Reading that entry however, hadn't brought him any kind of comfort. 

I hope that one day he can forgive me. But I know there's a chance he never will. Life sure does have a way of coming back around and biting you in the ass. I should have done things differently. I should have… It's pointless to think about all the things I could have done. I've made my bed. The least I can do is lie uncomfortably in it. 

"Bucky?" Wanda's voice was soft, pulling his attention from the journal. When Bucky looked up, he found Wanda standing there with a box in her arms. She had a small sympathetic smile on her face. "We found the apartment she used." 

Quickly closing the journal, he set it on top of the box beside him before standing. "Anything?" 

"Nothing that would help us to figure out where they might have gone." She said with a slight tilt of her head. "But I've found things she left behind. I thought you would want to go through them instead of leaving them there." 

As she held the box out, Bucky gently took it from her. "Thank you for grabbing it." He turned and placed the box next to the other. 

Wanda watched as he had done so. "Can I tell you something?" She asked a moment later. 

Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he turned to face her, but he nodded. "Sure." 

"It isn't my intention to make you feel guilt or fear in any way with what I'm about to say." She watched as Bucky almost steeled himself for the inevitable. "While I have never attempted to see into your mind for respect for your privacy, there was a time I saw into hers for a moment. She did not fear many things. Not with the history she had. But she feared for you." She watched as Bucky’s face fell. "I did not understand why until recently." She paused for a moment as she heard the others begin to board the quinjet. "Her greatest fear was losing you by her own doing. I do not know if that fear was centered around what has already happened or if it was rooted deeper than keeping her past from you." 

Bucky could only nod his head as he tried to process the information she had given him. He could now understand why that had been her fear. He understood the possibility of what she could possibly do in the process. Not only to him, but to others and the emotional torment that came with it. 

"Did you know?" He asked curiously. If Wanda had seen into her mind, she must have seen something that gave Y/N away. 

"Not until her party." Wanda responded. "Probably after you had learned the truth. Her mind had been completely open after you returned to the party." She sighed softly. "She was saying goodbye while we sang to her." 

Flashes of memories played through his mind at her words. The fake smile that was plastered on his face as anger and betrayal laid just beneath it. The way Y/N had a smile on her face as their friends had begun to sing to her. 

But he had missed the shift in her eyes that had been clear to Wanda. He had missed the moment Y/N had said her goodbyes through facial expressions. He had been too busy being angry with her. 

Tony cleared his throat getting their attention. The others had been standing off not too far. When Bucky looked towards him, Tony had been rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I adjusted protocols with FRIDAY. Y/N has been prioritized as unchanging number one." He began. "I've also adjusted it so that any and all new information comes directly to you to ensure nothing is missed. If I had known she had fallen on the priority list, I would have fixed it immediately. We all want her back and she would have been back sooner if-” 

Incoming call from Colonel Rhodes. High priority for the team. 

Tony shook his head and mumbled about interrupting him before instructing the AI to put him on speaker. “For someone who was such in rush to leave us earlier, this call sounds like you miss us.” He shrugged slightly. “Or checking in like some overprotective parent.” 

"Ha ha, very funny. If I hadn't left, we'd all be in the dark about this. I have some information that might be of interest for that trip you're on." His voice came over the speaker. 

"Spill." Tony said as he looked over at the others. 

"A convoy with heavy duty machinery was ambushed leaving Germany early this morning." 

"That doesn't sound like anything of use." Natasha noted. 

"It was an inside job." That caused Bucky’s eyebrow to raise as he listened to the call. "It was decided less than 12 hours ago to move the convoy. No one could plan this elaborate of an ambush given that time frame. The information they had, they knew more than they should have." 

"Anything on the team?" Steve asked. 

"That's the thing that's got a lot of people scratching their heads on all fronts." The group looked at each other as if hearing those words had sparked something within them. "Ten soldiers were assigned. When the files were pulled for investigation only nine were found. Both physical and digital copies disappeared. When asked about the tenth soldier, they could only say that she was hand selected for her skills. Any piece of footage they have has been scrubbed without so much as a glimpse of her. Whoever she is, she's pretty damn good at being invisible." 

"Any survivors?" Tony asked. 

"Two fatalities. The others are going to make it out alive. The other mystery is why those two and not the others." 

Bucky’s heart dropped as he processed the information. Three weeks had been too long for her. In that time they had manipulated her mind into being the asset she once was and tossed her back into the fire. 

"They saw her face." He said a moment later. It caused all eyes to turn towards him. He sighed as he looked back at them. "No loose ends. Everything else can't prove she was there. You leave someone alive that knows who you are and the game is over." 

"That makes sense." Natasha said with a shrug. "Can't describe someone you didn't see."

"If it was anyone else who said it, I'd be worried." Rhodes responded. "Now I hate to ask, but how sure are we that this wasn't done willingly?" 

"She fought her way out before being captured." Bucky added. "None of this was willing. Everything she's left for us shows she wouldn't go down without a fight."

“Did she happen to leave any idea where they'd be heading next?" Rhodes asked. 

"I doubt it." Bucky said with a sigh. "I haven't had a chance to go digging through what she left behind." 

"That's if she even had a chance to leave anything behind." Sam noted. "By the looks of things she barely had enough time to leave what she did." 

"If she did leave any indication, Hydra found it while searching her apartment." Steve added. It caused Bucky’s eyes to shoot over to Steve. "With the way the place was ransacked, they might have found what they were looking for. " 

Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.

Bucky had almost mentioned they hadn't found what they were looking for. He had the very thing they were wanting and they couldn't find it. He should have mentioned it. He should have told them about the journal, but he couldn't bring himself to. 

He trusted the people currently standing in the room with him and would gladly watch their backs at any given time. He would put his life on the line for a majority of them without a second thought. But the fear of having that journal fall into the wrong hands stopped him from saying anything about it. 

"Just means we're gonna have to do a wide search while digging deep." He said instead. "We know they're out there and they're using her. With the proper channels, we should be able to find something to get a lead before she's used for anything more drastic." 

"You mean more than killing people?" Rhodes' voice filled the air. 

"Given how Hydra used her in the past," Natasha began before Bucky could. "A few deaths are better than her being used to bring down governments in Hydra’s favor. So yeah, let's get her back before we find ourselves either preventing or fighting a war we couldn't prevent.” 

____ 

Six Months Later

The main conference room walls had been covered in papers taped to the walls. Each paper corresponds to a recent event that involved Hydra in some way. Each grouping of papers laid out the details of another ambush at Hydra’s hands. Each one taking either a piece of equipment or technology. 

Even with all the information displayed on the walls, the Avengers had no idea what Hydra was attempting to assemble. FRIDAY couldn't pinpoint any variations of possible weapons. Nor could the AI predict where they could possibly hit next. 

However, over the last several months they had been able to uncover several new hideaways that Hydra had been using. Each of them had helped to supply information towards the grand scheme of things. But with each thorough sweep, there were never any signs of Y/N. 

With every Hydra captive they interrogated, none of them had physically laid eyes on Phantom. They all gave the same answer in different words but none of them could give locations. Phantom was only accessible through her handler. 

Her handler that they all refused to give up any details about. The captives either went silent and refused to say anything else, or they purposely gave false information to throw off the Avengers. And when they came up empty handed from those false leads, it was Bucky that paid them a visit. 

Bucky practically moved into the conference room. A pillow and blankets found a new home on the couch by the back wall. Only leaving when the missions deemed it necessary. 

As he stood by the conference table going over the new files from their recent raid, Bucky’s mind occasionally went back to Y/N's journal. He had read it cover to cover several times and the small passages that surprisingly made him smile had played on a loop when he felt he needed it. 

This is a little slice of heaven. I found myself actually enjoying a beach day. Last week, I walked past an antique shop that had a globe sitting in view of the window. I couldn't resist and I found myself spinning it. I was reminded how much we talked about doing something like picking a place on a spinning globe and just going there. It's how I ended up in Italy. It's peace. A calm that I haven't felt in months.

He could easily picture her sitting with her toes in the sand as she watched the waves. How he wished he would have been able to see her that day. But then there were entries that stuck in his mind for other reasons.

Out of all the things I've seen and believed in, you'd think I wouldn't be skeptical about psychics. But here I am sitting in the corner booth of a sketchy bar and this woman said she needed to speak with me. That the thoughts troubling me wouldn't last forever. And then she asked for his name. A name that I haven't physically spoken in over a year. Before I could even muster up a fake name to give her, she knew his name. Knew without me even saying anything. She told me he'd come around. That one day he was going to find me and save me from the internal torment that I'm facing. For a brief moment there was hope that sparked within me that maybe one day it would happen. Maybe one day Bucky will let me apologize a million times over. I hope that he can forgive me. But the reality is, after almost a year later, I don't think he will. 

With each entry he read Bucky wondered what would have happened if he hadn't waited so long to go looking for her. Would they be put on a mission together like they used to by now? Or would they be on that vacation he talked about taking with her at one point. 

Each page of her writing gave him a reason to kick himself in the ass for waiting so long. But in truth, he hadn't been ready to forgive her. The day he realized how much he missed her, she hadn't been to a safe house for six months. The day he forgave her was the day he started looking in vacant apartments when they completed missions. 

And now as he stared at the papers in front of him, he knew that no matter how many what if situations he played in his mind, they wouldn't fix anything. The what ifs weren't going to get her back from Hydra. They weren't going to free her from the hold the black journal held over her. 

At first Bucky kept the journal hidden. He didn't dare to open it and read any of the contents the pages held. He hadn't even thought about it until one night his nightmare got the best of him. One where Y/N couldn't be stopped from almost killing her friends. 

Bucky searched through the pages for one command and one command only. While he hoped it would never come down to it, he felt a little better knowing he could stop her from doing something she’d never recover from. 

A sigh passed his lips at the same time Steve walked into the room. 

“That bad?” Steve asked with a chuckle. 

Bucky shook his head. “No. I just…” He stopped for a moment as he looked at the file before him. “I thought by now we would have found her.” 

“We're not going to stop until we do.” Steve noted as he looked at the current spread of papers on the table. “Anything from Mexico?” 

A recent mission to a Hydra base just north of Mexico City provided them with more information than they had gotten in months. Bucky was attempting to sift through it all to see if anything could point them in the next direction. 

“Same as the others so far.” Bucky shook his head. “Intel for everything else but for her.” 

“The guys below haven't given up her handler either.” Steve added. More captives from the base, none of which wanted to speak about the handler. "Nat is giving it a go."

“Whoever it is, they're staying in the dark. They know the blind spots and use it to their advantage.” It was frustrating to Bucky. Frustrating to the team that a good lead would leave them empty handed.

Bucky picked up a CCTV still from the file he had been going through. The stills were deemed priority by FRIDAY for one reason or another. And as Bucky scanned the image attempting to find the reason, his eye caught the top corner of it. 

“What is it?” Steve asked as he caught the way Bucky’s brows began to furrow as he looked at the image. 

“FRIDAY?” Bucky called out to the AI. “Do we have the full clip from camera 5 that was flagged?” A moment later a projected image appeared from the middle of the table. 

Playing now. 

Both Bucky and Steve watched the clip. The camera angle had captured a side room and a hallway. A hallway that Bucky had recognized as he walked through it during the mission. The room in view was empty when he walked into it. 

But as the camera panned the area, equipment could be seen in the room. The sight of it caused his heart to pick up in pace as flashes of memories played in front of him. His fist clenched around the photo in his hand as he tried to push the memories away. He shook his head slightly as he watched soldiers begin making their way down the hallway. 

Several of them were struggling as they walked. Some were knocked down before quickly getting back up. A moment later, Y/N came into view, attempting to fight her way out of their hold. In view of the camera they watched as she threw punches and kicks. At one point she got a few of them off of her before a soldier came and tased her, sending her to the ground. 

Steve's eyes shot to Bucky. He knew what was about to happen given what he was watching. Bucky’s eyes had been fixed on the projection. Steve could see the anger growing within his body language as well as tears well up in his eyes. 

“FRIDAY turn-” 

“No.” Bucky said never taking his eyes off the video. 

It made Steve glad there was no audio attached to this clip. That there was no way for Bucky to hear the torment he was watching on the screen. He wouldn't be able to hear the way she started screaming the moment she was strapped in. 

“Buck,” Steve said the moment he watched a tear fall on Bucky’s cheek. He tried to get his attention away from the screen. 

“If her handler is in this video, I have to-” 

“FRIDAY, run facial recognition through the whole clip and shut this off.” It was Tony's voice that filled the air. Bucky turned towards him the moment FRIDAY shut off the video, shaking his head and ready to protest. “Natasha can be quite persuasive in her interrogations." He walked further into the room. "We were able to piece together what they're trying to make. And in the process, we learned what two things they'll be going for next and where they'll more than likely be hit.” 

“Where?” Bucky asked. The anger he felt didn't evaporate entirely. If anything it was fueling the need to get things rolling. He knew she was going to be the main player and that was his chance to get her back. 

Tony sighed as he looked over at Steve for a moment before looking back at Bucky. “That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Y/N won't be at either of them.” 

“Why wouldn't she be?” Bucky asked with a raised brow. 

“Unless this is another false lead, which doesn't seem likely, given how Natasha obtained the information, but "Phantom" has a new mission she's been tasked with.” When Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, Tony continued. “It's us.” 

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: XVI

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: You finally rescue Daisuke’s girl.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: sorry i haven’t been updating this much recently!! i’m trying to finish up one of my other fics so i haven’t had a ton of time to work on this one but here is something to tide you all over (i hope)

“She’s very beautiful,” the boy said. “I’ve only seen her once or twice, but I remember that much. She’s beautiful, but it’s in a strange way. Like she’s not quite the same as the rest of us.”

“Who?” you said.

“Lord Tachibana’s concubine,” he said. “Though I don’t think she’s much older than you, ma’am. I brought her food once, when she was sick — she’s sick frequently, by the way — and that’s when I saw her.”

“Do you think that our girl is the same as this concubine?” you said. The boy shrugged.

“I can’t say for certain, but it would definitely make sense. Lord Tachibana spent quite a while in her room after you and that man left. I think he was upset about your visit,” he said.

“Very well. I suppose I should endeavor to meet this concubine; at the least, maybe she’ll be able to give us a little more information than Lord Tachibana was willing to part with,” you said. “Thank you for your help, dear boy. Can I ask you for one more thing?”

“Yes, ma’am. What is it?” he said.

“Tell me how to reach her,” you said. “The concubine, that is; how is it that I may speak to her without Lord Tachibana finding out?”

For being as young as he was, the boy was excellent at laying out plans. His recall was impressive, and the ideas he had were admittedly faultless. You praised him for it, telling him to run inside and ask the innkeeper for anything he wanted, promising you’d pay. He was happy to oblige, shouting his gratitude over his shoulder as he darted towards the inn, presumably before you could change your mind.

The waves had washed away the evidence of your fight with Tori, smoothing over the gouges in the sand and the depression your body had made when it had hit the ground during the torpor. You looked at your wheel necklace, the way the moonlight shone through the three clear wedges which represented Nezumi, Usagi, and Tori respectively.

Only nine left. Only nine more Beasts, and then you would have to face Ten himself. Would you be able to find the girl in time? Would you be able to have one of Daisuke’s weapons at your side, or would you have to fight the king of the sky with the sword you had been given by Hisashi?

“You’re still out here?” Kashimo said. You weren’t sure when he had come out, but at some point while you were lost in your thoughts, the air had indeed grown electrified by his presence. He was a few paces away, feet planted in the dry sand and arms crossed, a dark scowl on his sharp features as he regarded you.

The sea lapped at your ankles, the wind in your hair as you twisted your upper body to face him, extending your hand. His eyes widened before the harshness gentled into something else. An emotion you had never seen before, not on him. Slowly, as if he was still supremely unsure, he reached out his own hand towards your own, stretching out as if he wanted to take it.

He was not close enough, though. The distance between your fingertips was paper-thin, but it was there, stopping them from touching. And then another wave came crashing down on the shore, chasing after Kashimo, who retracted his hand and skittered backwards, eyeing the water warily.

The moment was lost. Your hand dropped to your side, and you returned your attention to the horizon, admiring the stars which carpeted the sky.

“Y/N,” he said. You cocked your head, and then you inhaled in surprise. His face scrunched with determination, he had taken one single step towards you, crushing the lingering foam which remained on the ground as he did so.

Another step, and then another. He did not look at his feet nor at the sea when he did so. His eyes remained firmly on you the entire time. Another step. One more.

“You’ve done it,” you said. “Kashimo, you’re walking in the water.”

“No,” he said, and this time when you held out your hand, he was close enough that he could grasp at it. “I am walking to you.”

His fingers interlocked with yours. Small sparks danced between you both, but they diffused into nothingness the longer you held onto each other. For a good while, you were silent, your joined hands hanging between you, the breeze cool against your faces, the song of the waves both calming the mounting tension and amplifying it.

“Why did you come into the water?” you said again, quietly. Neither of you looked at one another; it would be different if you did. The meaning would change. It was fine when you were just staring at the moon, but if you had to see his face, then it would not be alright anymore. You would realize something that you didn’t yet want to realize.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose I wanted to get over my fear.”

“And do you feel as if you have?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. He was not looking at the moon anymore; in your peripheral vision, you saw that he was looking at you. “Yes, I believe that is the case.”

“Even a child could kill you now,” you said, swallowing. “That doesn’t make you afraid?”

“No,” he said. “Not at the moment.”

“I could kill you now,” you said, whipping around, gripping his biceps, like you could physically impress your conviction upon him. “Does that not make you afraid, either?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve never been afraid of that.”

You found your eyes lingering on his lips, and you dug your fingers into his arms, as if by causing him pain, you could force your own thoughts onto a better track. You shouldn’t have turned. You should’ve stayed facing forwards. But then again, you thought that there was probably no world in which you did not make that mistake, no rendition of you that did not shift to look at him. It would always be like that. You would always be looking at him.

“Kashimo,” you whispered, drawing closer to him. He blinked, not making any moves to close the distance but also not trying to escape, either. “We’re going to find the girl soon. Once we do, and once Daisuke gives me my sword, there’ll be no reason for us to meet with each other, will there? Not until after I defeat Ten.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he said.

“But I don’t want that,” you confessed. Water splashed against your shins, salt roughening your skin and leaving a dry feeling in its wake. “I still want to see you.”

“Why?” he said.

“Do you really not know?” you said. He trained his attention to the swirling bubbles of the frothy waves breaking against the shore. You weren’t sure if he was avoiding you, or if he was just truly fascinated by the fact that he had finally done it, that he was actually in the water.

“No,” he said. “I really don’t.”

Abruptly, you let go of him, clearing your throat. He must’ve been lying to spare your feelings, but you appreciated him and his efforts. It did make you feel a little better than a flat out rejection would’ve, but only marginally so.

“I apologize,” you said. “We should go now. It’s important that we get enough rest. Reaching this concubine is dependent on us performing at our best.”

Without waiting for a response, you left him behind, pursing your lips in an effort to maintain whatever shreds of dignity you could muster.

You weren’t sure why you had said something like that. What had you even thought would come of it? You were supposed to marry Hisashi. Kashimo wanted to kill you. What kind of a foolish woman were you, that you were set to marry a kind man, a handsome man, a rich man, and yet you were doubting that union? Why would you ever trade Hisashi for Kashimo? A diamond for a storm? Yet it remained that for a moment, you had earnestly considered doing it. If Kashimo had answered differently, then perhaps you would’ve done it.

But he hadn’t. Maybe he was smarter than you in that aspect. Certainly he had more control over his emotions, which was not something you thought you’d ever say about a man ruled by his whims. You had been lucky that his whims had not led you astray this time. Next time, you might not be so fortunate.

You let your finger rest on your lips, trying to imagine what it would’ve been like. Would there have been sparks? Not the figurative kind, but literal electricity, the side effect of his cursed technique. It might’ve chased someone else away, someone lesser who feared being burnt by his lightning, but not you. In fact, you were like a moth to his flame, all the more excited by its presence.

Yet you shouldn’t be. You ought to remember what happened when a moth flew into a lantern, how they burned into smoke in an instant. It would not be good for you. It would kill you. He would kill you.

You wondered if, for that brief instant before a moth’s immolation, it was happy. Did it find some joy in finally reaching the thing it desired most, even if it would inevitably die at its hands? And if that was the case, then was that joy worth it? Knowing the consequences, would the moth still fly into the fire? Would it willingly die, just for that single moment when it felt like it had reached the sun?

The next morning, the sky was restless. Dark storm clouds gathered overhead, and the sea, which had been so calm only the night before, was choppy and harsh. There was a promise of rain in the air, or was it a threat? Anyways, it was obviously soon going to storm, which meant that you had to enact the boy’s plan as soon as possible.

“You’re sure this will work?” Kashimo grumbled. The boy seemed nervous, but he nodded.

“There’s no guarantee, but it’s your best chance,” he said, though you noticed he took the initiative to hide behind your leg, where he must’ve assumed he was safe from Kashimo. You patted him on the head.

“We’ll give it a chance. If it doesn’t work, then it’s not a problem. We always have our last resort,” you said.

“Which is?” Kashimo said.

“Brute force, of course. Even just one of us could outmuscle the entire mansion; with the two of us, it won’t be difficult at all. I’d prefer to not do that unless we absolutely have to, though,” you said. “It’ll get messy if we do.”

“Right,” Kashimo said. The boy, to his credit, did not question how just one of you would be enough to beat every single resident of the Tachibana Mansion. Privately, you thought that he’d make a fine addition to the Gojo household.

“Let’s be off, then. You remember what we have to do?” you said.

“Yes, yes,” Kashimo said. “You don’t have to nag me. I won’t put a foot wrong. Have we decided upon a signal yet, though?”

You looked up at the sky, trying to think of a way you could send a message to Kashimo from far away. If the roles were reversed, it would not be that difficult — a single bolt of lightning would be enough to let you know that he was ready. But you did not possess anything that showy or bright, so you’d have to figure something else out.

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I promise you’ll know,” you said.

“How?” he said, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at him.

“You just will. You’ll see it, and you’ll think of me, and because of that, you will know exactly what it means,” you said.

His jaw clenched, but he did not argue further, only swinging onto his horse and waiting for you to do the same.

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said. “One way or another.”

“Yes,” you said. “Good luck. Don’t — don’t do anything stupid.”

He scoffed. “I never would.”

With that, he galloped off, in the direction of the Tachibana Mansion. You watched him go for a moment, allowing the boy to stroke your mare’s nose as you waited.

“Ma’am,” the boy said. “That man…”

“Yes? What about him?” you said. The boy peered up at you through lowered lashes, as if he was very shy about what he wanted to say next.

“It will be difficult for you to signal him in the way you are speaking of,” he said.

“What do you mean? Why is that?” you said. The boy was blushing now, the subject obviously an embarrassing one for a child his age.

“He’s always thinking of you,” he said. “You could send him the entire world as a signal, or you could send nothing at all. It wouldn’t change the pattern of his thoughts any.”

The steady rhythm of your mare’s canter was the only thing that served to calm the turmoil of your mind. She covered ground at a rolling pace, rocking you with her comfortable gait into a calmer sense of self. You wished you could just keep riding forever, until you were someone completely different, with no responsibilities or entanglements.

That was impossible. Eventually, you reached the Tachibana Mansion, slowing the mare to a trot and then a walk, halting her by where Kashimo’s horse was tied and doing the same so that you could enter the mansion as a distinguished guest.

It was the same older woman from yesterday that answered the door. She seemed surprised to see you, or maybe it was not you but the fact that you were alone that was so shocking to her. Either way, for just one second, her composure dropped, before it was back to normal.

“Why have you returned?” she said.

“I thought it might be more beneficial for me to have an audience with the lady of the house,” you said. The woman exhaled.

“Lady Tachibana has been dead for a few weeks now,” she said.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” you said. “It is always difficult when such tragedies strike.”

“It certainly is,” she said. “Is that all, then?”

“No, it is not. I’ve heard Akihiro — Lord Tachibana, that is — has a concubine. Might I be able to meet with her, in the lady’s stead?” you said.

“How did you hear about her?” the woman said, voice growing icy for a second before she sighed. “Of course. It was probably that blabbering doctor. I told Lord Tachibana not to let him make a house call, but when have I ever been listened to?”

“You don’t deny her existence,” you noted.

“Why would I?” she said rhetorically. “You already know. There’s no point in lying. Ordinarily, I’d tell you to take your concerns to Lord Tachibana, but he’s busy with another caller at the moment, so it’ll have to do. Anything for the lady of the Gojo house, huh?”

This last part was said with no small amount of sarcasm, but there was an undercurrent of fear. It was like you had said yesterday: whether or not you were bluffing, they could not afford to call you on it. The seed of doubt was enough to taint their actions, and good thing, too, because you actually weren’t bluffing. You really were the lady of the Gojo household, or at least you one day would be; regardless, Hisashi would not take kindly to any insult against you and, by extension, your associates.

“It will not take long. It is just one of those matters that I believe is a conversation better suited for a woman’s ears,” you said. The old woman guffawed.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” she said. “It can be difficult, telling a man about the more sensitive matters. I sincerely apologize that you must meet with a concubine, though. I trust you are not insulted?”

“I understand the circumstances, so I’m not. Once again, I am deeply sorry for the situation. Losing any family member is difficult, and I’m sure Lady Tachibana was well-loved,” you said.

“She was, at that. More than that odd little girl that he calls a concubine,” she said. You pretended to gasp.

“Is that so!” you said. “What makes her so odd?”

“Her hair is gold, for one, and her eyes are a strange color. Like a field covered by fog,” she whispered conspiratorially. “More importantly, she’s—”

“She’s?” you prodded. The woman gave you a suspicious look, shaking her head. Any hints of camaraderie had vanished as you reached a small door.

“It’s not my business, nor is it yours. Anyways, you’ll meet her soon enough,” she said. “It’s just up those stairs.”

“She’s in the attic?” you said. The woman shrugged.

“She is. I’m not allowed to go up there without Lord Tachibana, so you can go by yourself. Don’t take long, though; it wouldn’t be good for anyone if he catches you with her,” she said. You saw her throat bob as she swallowed, and for the first time, you realized that she was putting herself in danger to do this. But why? Did she really care that much about helping you? Or was there some other reasoning to it?

“Thank you,” you said, bowing at her before opening the door, coughing as plumes of dust flew in your face, blinking so that your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting.

The stairs creaked as you walked up them cautiously, unsure of which ones might give out — they all seemed close to doing so, as if they were one misstep from collapsing entirely. Therefore, it took you twice as long as it should’ve to ascend into the attic proper. Despite all the extra time, though, you were not at all prepared for the sight you were met with when you reached it.

There was a small cot in the corner, and looped around the frame was a heavy chain. Spots of dried blood littered the ground, and there were metal bars over the window, though they were an extravagance, an unnecessary reminder of the inhabitant’s situation. After all, it wasn’t like she could ever escape that way — because that very chain which was attached to the bed led to a manacle locked around the ankle of a gaunt looking girl who could only be the concubine, though you had never in your life seen a concubine being treated in such a manner.

Her hair might’ve once been a brilliant gold, like sheaves of wheat, but now it was dull and lank, falling down her back and in her face like a greasy curtain. Just as the woman had said, her eyes were green, but it was a resigned, blank shade. Her skin was pale to the point of translucence, a sure symptom of sun deprivation, and her body was unnaturally hollow and bony, as if she didn’t get enough food.

“What a joke,” you said, stepping towards her. “This is how such a self-important man treats his concubine. What is your name?”

She flinched as you drew closer, but she did not try to run away. She must’ve just been that resigned to her fate. She only dropped to her knees, bowing her head at you.

“Tullia,” she whispered.

“Tullia,” you repeated. “A name from a land where they have a Pope instead of an Emperor?”

“Yes,” she said, daring to look up at you. “How did you know that?”

“Someone told me,” you said. “He goes by Kashimo now, but I believe you knew him as Hajime Jigoku.”

She gasped, and then she was clenching the fabric of your clothes in her hands, clinging to you like you were a lifeline. You pushed her hair behind her ears, taking in her sweet face and wondering what she had ever done to deserve such treatment.

“Hajime is alive?” she said, her voice breaking.

“Yes,” you said. “Did you think he wasn’t?”

It was a little strange to hear. Kashimo was the person who defined living, who was so utterly alive that the air around him burned with it. The thought of him being dead actually did not even make sense. But then again, what part of any of this made sense?

“I always waited for him and Daisuke,” she said. “I used to fight back, because I knew — I knew that they would come for me. But they never did. Then he said that they were dead, so I just…gave up. But you mean to tell me that they’re alive? Both of them, or just Hajime?”

“They’re both fine,” you said. “They’re alive. I came on Daisuke’s behalf, because he wanted to see you again. Kashimo — Hajime, he offered to help me find you.”

“So they’ve been alive all this time?” she whimpered. “They’ve been alive, and they never — why did they never — I waited for so long for them. Did they forget about me?”

“They thought you ran away,” you said, holding her face in your hands, using your thumbs to wipe away her tears. “They thought that you were better off without them. They thought you didn’t want to be found. But I can promise that they definitely missed you. They definitely didn’t forget about you.”

“I want to see them,” she said. “I want to see them again. I want to see Daisuke. Please, take me to Daisuke.”

“That’s why I’ve come,” you said. “Though you’re in no shape to travel far at the moment. The first order of business is getting you out of here, and then we’ll spend some time allowing you to recover before traveling back to where he’s staying.”

Standing, you unsheathed your sword. Tullia’s eyes widened as you raised it above your head before slamming it down on the chain binding her to the bed. Ordinarily, it might not have had much of an impact, but because you had reinforced the blow with pure cursed energy, it sliced through the metal like it was nothing. Spinning the sword in your hand, you maneuvered it into a better position so that you could repeat the process on the barred window, which was theoretically large enough for you both to fit through.

“Are we going to leave through there?” she said, looking first outside and then back at you in horror. You nodded, sheathing your sword once more.

“I possess the Hummingbird’s Blessing. On my honor and that of my deity’s, I promise that I will get you out of here safely. Do you trust me?” you said.

“This is like a dream,” she confessed. “I didn’t think I’d ever be saved. I thought I’d die up here, alone and in the dark, but now here you are. It doesn’t matter if I trust you or don’t; in the end, I have no other choice.”

And so, you grabbed the arm of Daisuke’s girl, the one you had been searching for for so long. Backing up, you did not even bother to activate your cursed technique before taking off at a sprint, dragging her behind you. Then, ignoring her shriek of surprise and twisting so that you were curled around her, you jumped out of the window.

With one hand, you held onto Tullia, and with the other, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around the branch of a cherry blossom, hissing as the rough bark scratched at your palm. Bracing one leg against the trunk of the tree and wrapping the other around the branch, you loosened your grip and used your second hand to catch Tullia, stopping her from ramming into the tree at full speed. Your fall thus broken, you took a second to breathe before setting Tullia on the branch and clambering down to the ground with the swiftness of a monkey.

“Jump!” you called up to her. “I’ll catch you.”

You thought she might hesitate a bit more, but she was as game as anything. A second later, she crashed into your arms, eyes screwed shut, like she had not quite believed you would catch her despite your words to the contrary. You set her on her feet gently, letting her use your arm for support.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I forgot how nice it was outside.”

“How long were you in there?” you said. She shook her head.

“I don’t know. It was hard to keep track of the time,” she said. “We should leave the grounds before someone sees me. Now that I’ve escaped, I don’t think I could ever go back. Please don’t — you won’t let him take me back, will you?”

“Of course not,” you said. “I’ll kill him before I let that happen. We can go as soon as I figure out what kind of a signal I should send to Kashimo.”

“Kashimo?” she said. “Ah, of course. Hajime. It’s not a surprise he chose a new name for himself. He never did like being called Jigoku.”

You were reminded of the fact that this girl knew Kashimo in a way you did not and never could. She had been there in his youth, had known him back before he was the god of lightning, when he was just a boy trying desperately to prove himself as someone worthy of living.

What would be a signal you could send him? What was something within your power which you could use to alert him of the fact that you had gotten Tullia, that he was free to leave the audience with Akihiro Tachibana behind?

“Do you think he knows anything about flowers?” you said. Tullia frowned, clearly deep in thought. You took the moment to work the manacle free from her ankle, letting it fall to the ground, exposing a strip of skin rubbed raw by the metal.

“Daisuke tried to teach him at one point, I think. I’m sure he remembers whatever he learnt, though I don’t know how much Daisuke got to,” she said.

“Alright,” you said. Reaching behind her, you plucked a red camellia from a nearby bush, twirling the blossom in your hands before smiling at it. This would do as a signal, provided Kashimo understood it. Calling upon a story, you tried to recall the layout of the mansion.

You have been given the Speed of the Hummingbird!

Taking off with that same thunder-like sound which always rang out at your acceleration, you raced in a blur to where you believed the window of the drawing room was. Not even slowing your pace, you placed the camellia on the sill, disappearing before anyone noticed your presence. The storm covered your tracks; the noise of your running could be put down to thunder, while the breeze left in your wake would be nothing more than a normal occurrence with such weather.

“That should be enough,” you said. “Watch over me for a second.”

“Watch over you?” Tullia said. You yawned.

You will now enter the Torpor of the Hummingbird.

You awoke from the torpor almost instantly, and as well you should — you had barely even used your cursed technique, so there was no reason for it to have any massive drawback. Tullia was still standing there, bewildered, and you were still on your feet.

“Sorry, it’s the drawback of my technique. We should go now, though; hopefully Kashimo sees the flower soon and realizes what I meant by it,” you said.

You let Tullia ride in front of you, reaching around her frail body to hold your reins. In that way, you were able to support her while also steering your horse. Once you reached the inn, you helped her down and told the innkeeper to make some tea for her while you waited for Kashimo to come.

“You met with the concubine?” he said as he burst into the room, eyes immediately on you, ignoring everything else.

“Yes. You got my signal?” you said.

“A red camellia,” he said, sounding very proud of himself for figuring it out. “It represents a noble death. A perfect choice for the occasion. You were right; it did make me think of you.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right, it does mean that as well.”

“Hajime?” Tullia said, her voice soft like she couldn’t believe her eyes.

It took a lot for Kashimo to show any emotion, so the fact that his lips parted even slightly at the sound of Tullia’s voice proved that a part of him had not really expected to ever find her. The missing piece of his childhood, the girl his best friend was in love with…you could not fathom what it felt like for him to reunite with her.

“You look like shit, Tullia,” he said finally. Tullia laughed ruefully.

“I guess it really must be you, huh? Only you would say something that crass,” she said.

“I can’t believe you ran away and ended up in a situation like this,” he said. “Do you regret it now?”

“Ran away?” Tullia said, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the wall. “It’s no surprise that that’s what they told you all. Actually, I didn’t run away at all.”

“What do you mean?” Kashimo said. He hadn’t seen where she was living, so he probably didn’t realize what she was getting at, but you had, and a kind of despair shot through your whole body as you understood what she was implying.

“I was sold,” she said. “Akihiro Tachibana did not dare defile his wife with his darker perversions, so he went looking for a girl that no one would miss. A girl who had nothing resembling a family to care about her. When he found me, he told the mistress he’d pay to take me if she promised to make it like I never existed. That must be why she told everyone I ran away.”

“Sold?” Kashimo said. It was the opposite of everything he believed in, so his shock was understandable. This girl who he had known since he was young, the one he thought was laughing in the sea without them, had been sold. She hadn’t left at all but had been forcibly taken.

“They locked me in that attic you saved me from, chained me to the bed and installed bars on the window just to ensure that I didn’t try to run away. I know it must seem like I was starved, but actually, they fed me well enough. It was poison which they deprived me of, and that is the reason I look like this,” she said.

“Poison?” you said. It was your turn to be confused — after all, how could a deprivation from poison hurt someone to the extent that Tullia had been damaged?

“It’s my cursed technique. I drink poison, and my body converts it to cursed energy,” she said. “I haven’t been able to have any since I was sold to the Tachibanas, which is why my body has deteriorated to such an extent.”

“Why didn’t you try to run away?” Kashimo said. “Why did you stay like a fool? I understand if you couldn’t break free later on, but why did you even let yourself be put in that position?”

“Do you think I wanted to be?” Tullia snapped. “Of course I didn’t! The mistress mixed something in with my dinner so that I slept through the ordeal. It couldn’t have been a poison, as my body would’ve converted that before it could impact me, but there was some plant or similar substance that she used so that I did not awaken until I was already locked away! Not everyone — not everyone is like you! Sometimes bad things just happen to people, and there’s nothing they can do but suffer through it all!”

“What did they even do to you?” Kashimo said, sufficiently cowed at the well-deserved outburst.

“At first, nothing. He tried to win me over, wanting me to do it of my own free will. I always refused, though. I insisted you and Daisuke would come for me. I insisted he would regret it once that happened. But you never did. Eventually, he told me that word had come from the orphanage that both you and Daisuke were dead. I didn’t want to believe it — it didn’t make sense, but at the same time, what other explanation was there for why you hadn’t come to save me?

“After that, I gave up and let him do as he pleased, no matter the pain it caused me. There was nothing left for me, after all, no reason to keep struggling when there was no chance anyone would rescue me or even knew I was there at all. There were a few times I came to be with child, but after the first one was born dead, he made me abort the rest,” she said. “It was the most excruciating thing. Time and time again, my body was ripped apart for nothing but a corpse to come out.”

She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, though of course neither Kashimo nor you had any plans to hurt her.

“I will kill him,” Kashimo said matter-of-factly. “For doing that, I will kill him.”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing onto his sleeve before he could run off. He gave you an irritated look, but you shook your head. “Tullia, is that what you want? For Kashimo to kill him?”

“No,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Kashimo said. This anger was his way of showing his desperation, his helplessness at the situation, but it was not his situation in the first place. He did not have the same claim to it that Tullia did.

“It’s Tullia’s choice,” you said. “She’s the one who it happened to. She’s the one who gets to decide what happens next.”

“I want him to die, that’s for sure,” Tullia said. “But not at your hand, Hajime. It has to be me. Once I’ve regained enough strength, I will be the one to kill him myself.”

While Tullia was in the bath, cleaning herself off properly for the first time in so long, you and Kashimo sat in your room and debated what to do next.

“She’s definitely Daisuke’s girl, no doubt about it,” he said. “But who knows how long recovering will take? Can you afford to wait? The Beasts have been appearing so rapidly that even a few days’ delay might mean a lot.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “We just need to get some poison and she’ll be much better. I don’t mind waiting. It’s the only form of justice she’ll ever get for what happened to her, and I can’t deny her that. Not after how much she’s had to endure.”

Kashimo buried his face in his hands. “What a mess. I can’t believe we never tried to inquire further. We should’ve tortured it out of the mistress…why did we not? Why did we just believe her at her word?”

“You can’t go back and change it,” you said. “So you just have to focus on making amends. She’s frightened, you know, so you and Daisuke have to do everything in your power to soothe her. You must endeavor to make up for how long she was alone.”

“This isn’t my area of expertise,” he said. “I don’t know how to deal with people’s emotions and other such sentimental affairs. The only thing I could do for her would be killing Akihiro Tachibana, but she doesn’t want that.”

“Even just your presence is enough, I think. But you must be delicate in handling her. Not like how you are with me. I can take your brashness and your haughty attitude, but she can’t. So if you must yell at someone, yell at me. If you must be angry with someone, be angry at me. But do leave her alone in that regard,” you said. “Only say kind things to her, and if you cannot manage that, then don’t say anything at all.”

“Maybe silence is a bit more realistic,” he said.

“Silence is fine,” you said. “You’re not the one she really wants right now, anyways.”

“Right, that’s Daisuke. I’m just a substitute until we reach him,” he said, taking your hands and scowling down at the shallow scrapes. “By the way, how did this happen?”

“I had to grab onto a tree while escaping with Tullia,” you said. “It’s not a big deal, so I don’t see the point in activating my technique to heal them. Why?”

“I will cut that tree down,” he said, lifting one of your palms to his cheek. You used your thumb to trace the regal bone that sat there, and he closed his eyes, relaxing into the caress, which must’ve been rare for him, the one who pushed everyone away and had never known a gentle touch in his life.

“You can,” you said. “If it pleases you, you can cut down every tree in the world.”

“I don’t have to cut down every tree,” he said. “Just the ones that hurt you.”

“Then you can do that, too,” you said.

“I will do it,” he promised. “I definitely will.”

“Thank you,” you said. He was quiet for a bit, just sitting there and holding your hand to his face, like you would drop it if he were not there and he could not bear to feel you let go.

“I could not protect that girl, the one who Daisuke loved,” he said slowly, carefully, enunciating every word. “I hate that I could not, but you’re right in saying I can’t change that. But — but I can promise this: it won’t be the same for you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Because you want to kill me?” you said.

“Yes,” he said, answering with a firm, resounding swiftness. “Because of that. Because the person to kill you can not be Ten, nor Hisashi Gojo, nor anyone else. I will cut down every tree and every man in the world if it means that it can be like that — if it means that the one to kill you can be me and me alone.”

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending Chapter 20

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Anything in bold is considered to be a different language and the context will specify what that language may be.

Chapter Warnings: None! This is a cute, fluffy little chapter but there's some important character development.

WC: 3508

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa @naruwitch 

Thwack!

I’m violently awoken by something hitting me and instinctively throw a punch in the direction I was hit from. My room is pitch black so I can’t see for shit, but when I don’t make contact with anything and hear rousing giggles, I can’t help but smile.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed you otherwise I’d be pissed,” I say without addressing anyone in particular.

After her giggling subsides, Suki merely says, “Get up loser, we’re going for a run.”

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have stood for such a direct order. But from Suki? I’d follow her to the end of the earth without a second thought. So I get out of bed as nimbly as my tired body will allow and get dressed.

As we run, we don’t talk much unless I’m pointing something out to her. The sun is barely rising and the air is thick with the smell of morning dew. Just being in Suki’s company brings me immense peace and the serene background only adds to the moment. I’m enjoying this slice of normalcy so much, that I honestly lose track of time. Before I know it, Hange is calling us to breakfast like a mother calling her kids to supper after a long day of playing outside.

Arms linked, Suki and I head inside. Once we have our trays, we sit in the same places as dinner the night before. The entire meal is much quieter than normal and as I eat quietly I sneak glances at Zuko to assess the damage. I assume Katara healed him last night, but in spite of this, he still has some gnarly bruising on his face. I’m struck by a strong wave of guilt and suddenly the uncharacteristic silence is suffocating. Luckily, Suki breaks me out of my thoughts.

“So, when are you boys heading out?” She asks cheerily.

She always knows when I need saving.

Aang answers, “Probably as soon as we’re done eating. I want to give Appa ample time because it’s a longer stretch than I’d normally make him do in one sitting.”

We all nod and it seems like that’s where the conversation is going to end, but Sokka kind of absently asks, “What are you all going to get up to today?”

Everyone looks to me and, with a mouthful of some kind of egg dish I shrug. Hange takes this as her opportunity to jump in, “I was hoping you all could do some bending! I’d like to compare y/n and Katara and I’m dying to see earth bending!”

I smile at her continued enthusiasm before looking at the girls questioningly. Katara agrees on all of their behalves.

Tidying up, everyone moves to help the boys load everything back onto Appa. While we head outside, Zuko grabs my wrist and hesitantly asks, “Can we talk?”

I look around a little incredulously before responding, “Now?!”

He huffs. “Well, yeah. If not now, when?”

Unamused with his attitude, I cross my arms and bite back, “I don’t know, when I see you again in, like, three days?”

Sighing, his tone of voice drops. “Please, y/n,” he says pleading with me.

Letting out a sigh of my own I reluctantly agree and we step off to the side for a little bit of privacy. I keep my arms crossed as I stand there staring at him expectantly. While he stutters trying to even begin what he wants to say, the wind catches his now very long hair and carries the scent of his shampoo and cologne to me. He has always smelled like a unique concoction of palo santo, tobacco, whisky, and herbal tea and as soon as it hits my nose I’m flooded by memories of the good times.

Clearly, my face must have reflected the images flashing in my mind because he stops his stammering to check if I’m okay. Snapping back to reality, I realize he’s reached out and grabbed my arm and we’re now standing much closer than we were just a moment ago.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just remembered something, it’s no big deal. So, um, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” I say, desperately trying to shove the thoughts back into their locked box in the back corner of my mind.

“I, uh, j-just wanted to say I-I’m s-s-sorry. For what I said, I mean,” he finally spits out, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

I’m now fully grounded in reality again. My composure regained, I simply state, “Good. You should be.” He looks at me a little surprised. I heave another massive sigh as I look away and mutter, “And I’m sorry I let my anger get the best of me and took it too far,” snapping back to look him dead in the eye, I continue, “But don’t get it twisted: I’m not sorry that I beat the shit out of you. You deserved that. I’m just sorry I went as far as I did.” Again, he seems taken aback but this time I’m not going to budge.

Zuko looks like he wants to say more but I cut him off before he can further organize his thoughts, “Are we done here?”

I catch his eyebrows raise quickly before he looks down at the ground and mutters, “I was also hoping we could talk about…about us.” He sneaks a glance up through his eyelashes.

I try my hardest to maintain an even expression as I deadpan back, “There’s nothing to talk about Zuko. Like I said last night, you need to get over it.” Without giving him a chance to argue I turn on my heal and begin to walk away but he stops me again and barely whispers, “I miss you, y/n.”

Without turning around, I talk to him over my shoulder. “We should help the others load up, they’re probably almost done by now.” With that, I walk back to the rest of the Gaang.

Fuck, don’t you dare fall for it y/n. He proved yesterday that you made the right choice two years ago. You need to stand your ground!

Making sure to wipe my face of any emotion, I walk up to everyone as nonchalantly as I can. With a, albeit forced, smile I ask, “Sorry about that, how can I help?”

Sokka looks at me accusatorially. “And where were you?”

“Taking a shit, what’s it to ya?” I say without missing a beat.

Just then Zuko approaches with a similarly forced expression and a knowing silence falls over the group.

Continuing on, Sokka throws a bag up onto Appa’s saddle and says, “Well, that was the last thing so nothing now.” Shifting to also speak with Katara, Suki, and Toph as well as any of the Scouts that are within earshot he says, “So we’ll get back to the fire nation tonight. Then tomorrow I’ll leave in the morning on an airship back here which should get me in around mid-day. Then we can leave for Ba Sing Se the day after that.”

We all nod in agreement with his plan and I can feel the kids get excited at the thought of seeing the world. We hug Aang and Sokka goodbye and I notably avoid hugging Zuko, a fact that is not lost on Katara and Suki.

I’ll be hearing about this shit later.

As everyone climbs on Appa, we wish them safe travels and they take off. 

Watching them fade into the distance, I feel someone approach me. Speaking Watertribe so no one else can hear our conversation, Katara asks, “So, you wanna tell me what that was all about.”

Still watching Appa, I try to dismiss her. “Zuko just wanted to apologize for yesterday,” I say trailing off towards the end.

Katara intentionally steps into my field of view, demanding my attention. With a raised eyebrow she crosses her arms and says, “Is that all he wanted to talk about?”

“...No. He also wanted to talk about us, but I didn’t humor that conversation. There’s nothing to talk about.”

In the distance, Hange calls us to the training ground so she can begin observing us, so we all start walking in that direction. This doesn’t stop Katara from continuing our conversation, though.

“You know he’s still very hung up on you.”

Damnit Katara, why do you have to mother HIM now?

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” I say sarcastically. 

“y/n…” She presses.

“Katara.” I stop walking and she stops with me. “He might still be hung up on me, but I am not hung up on him. Relationships end. He’ll just have to get over it - which, I might add, is exactly what I told him.”

She sighs and nods and we finish walking to the training field, but I can’t help but think that’s not the last I’ll be hearing about this.

I can’t be bothered by it now, though. 

As Katara, Toph, and I begin warming up and sparring, everyone else including Suki sits on the sidelines and watches. Since the three of us are preoccupied and some distance away, we have no clue what kinds of conversations are happening.

“One thing that you should watch for is how much more fluid Katara is than y/n. You can’t really see it in the warm ups, but when they’re fighting Katara’s style is a more classic water bending style while y/n fights a lot more like an earth bender or a fire bender.” Suki explains.

“Why is that?” Hange asks.

“Well, Katara learned from more traditional masters. While y/n learned from water benders in the beginning of her life, she spent so much time around earth benders and fire benders that I think she just adapted some of their fighting style. It probably also has to do with her not bending for so many years; by the time she started again, most of her points of reference for combat were other elements.”

Mikasa chimes in, “Hey, why did she stop bending? She gave us a vague answer but-”

Suki cuts her off, “Let me guess, she said something along the lines of ‘I was a very bad person for a while and I was convinced that my bending was the problem’ or something like that?”

This shocks Mikasa and the rest of the kids that were around to hear me give that explanation. Finally, Mikasa says, “Yeah, almost word for word. How did you know that?”

Suki chuckles. “Because that’s all she’s ever said to any of us about the topic. We know as much as you do on that front.”

Everyone sits in silence as they watch for a while, aside from Suki occasionally pointing out which forms and techniques were unique. Once I switch to sparring with Toph, Suki quietly speaks up again. “Please, do me a favor.”

She pauses while everyone turns to look at her, but she doesn’t look at anyone in particular as she continues to speak. “Keep an eye on her. If she’s hurt, she’ll do everything in her power to downplay it because there’s nothing she hates more than sympathy or pity. And,” she glances towards everyone from the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to the field. “She has a tendency to be reckless, ESPECIALLY if she thinks someone she loves is in danger.” Now fully turning to look at everyone to emphasize her last point, “And I can tell by how you all interact that she loves all of you the way she loves us. So if one of you is in trouble, she’ll do ANYTHING to help. She doesn’t really have much regard for herself in that way.” Suki looks back at the field now that the atmosphere has turned somber. 

After another prolonged beat of silence, Armin tentatively asks, “What can we do to protect her?”

Suki gives a half smile. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s VERY capable of defending herself. Honestly, she’s probably the most capable person I know despite, or maybe even because of, the risks she takes. But, if you really want to prevent her from being reckless, the only thing you can do is not put yourselves in a situation where she feels like she needs to intervene.”

Toph absolutely bodies me, knocking the wind out of me. As she cackles, I call for a break. The three of us head towards the others, hobbling and wheezing as I go, I immediately pick up on a very melancholic atmosphere.

Still trying to catch my breath, I ask, “Y’all good here?”

Suki immediately jumps up and exclaims “Yep! All good here!” I raise my eyebrow at her but she’s unphased. “Why don’t you take us into town when you’re done here?”

I glance to Hange who nods, saying “I think I’ve gotten a lot to think about from this, you’re free to go.” 

I quickly shower before getting ready to head out of the barracks. When I emerge from the shower, I notice a small drawstring bag sitting on top of my things. When I pick it up, it jingles like coins and upon further inspection I find that that’s exactly what it is. Confused, I dry myself off and get dressed before heading to Hange’s office.

“What’s this?” I confront.

When she looks up from her desk, I can see her looking at it for a moment. “Looks like a velvet coin pouch.”

“I figured that out,” I say sarcastically. “Why did you leave it on my things?”

Now she’s the one confused. Sitting back she says, “I didn’t leave you that.” She reaches out her hand and I give her the bag.

After she looks at it a bit more closely, she sits back with a funny look on her face.

Now, a little annoyed, I question, “What?”

She doesn’t explain her expression, but she says, “Actually, it’s Levi’s velvet coin pouch.”

Still just as confused as when I entered, I thank her and head a few doors down to Levi’s room. I knock without waiting and let myself in where I find him in his usual place behind his desk. I start up the same charade I just went through with Hange. 

“What is this?”

“A coin pouch,” he deadpans.

“Oh my god you’re insufferable. Yes, I got that. Why did you leave this on my things?” I say, my annoyance growing.

“How do you know I left it there?” He counters.

“Because I just asked Hange and she said it’s yours.”

He huffs a little before looking back down at his desk, only adding “We don’t pay you, so if you’re going into town you’ll need money.”

My annoyance drops and for a moment I’m speechless. When I get my wits about me, I finally stutter out, “Oh, um, thank you, Levi. You didn’t have to do that.”

All he says is “I know.”

“Well, would you like me to get you anything while I’m out?”

“I don’t need anything.”

I should’ve known he’d never go for that.

“Okay, well, thanks again Levi. That’s really kind of you.” I say as I go to exit his office. Before I do though, I realize something.

He only responds with a nonverbal “Hm?”

Embarrassed, I turn back to him and say, “Hey Levi?

Looking at the ground, I mumble, “How much is in here exactly? I’m not familiar with your money.”

I don’t even have to look at him to feel his demeanor soften. He gets up and walks over to me, gently opening the bag. Taking out a few different coins he says, “I gave you $50. This coin is worth $10, this coin is $5, and this one is $1. You might get some smaller coins back in change, but that’s what’s in here.”

When I look up at him, we’re eye to eye and I can feel my stomach flip-flop from the proximity. All I can manage to do is squeak out a quick “Thank you” before I turn and nearly run out of his office.

Damnit, fuck you Suki and Katara for putting this idea in my head. I was doing just fine before!

Grabbing the girls, we head into the markets and begin perusing. For the most part we don’t see anything that we want, but when my eyes fall on this beautiful yellow sun dress with little blue flowers, I feel like I have to have it.

“Really, that one?” Katara asks incredulously. “I’ve never seen you wear anything other than all black or your robes from the Fire Nation.”

A little offended, I retort “Just because I’ve never worn something like that before doesn’t mean I wouldn’t LIKE to! I love dresses, they are just impractical most of the time.”

“What would you even wear that for?” Suki asks.

And that’s when I get an idea. “We should have a picnic when Sokka gets here tomorrow! That would be such a neat surprise for everyone!”

Without waiting for their response, I run upto the merchant and buy the dress with the mission now in mind of getting things to prepare a picnic for a bunch of hungry teenagers. As we peruse the market and compare prices to things, I notice one stand in particular that catches my eye. I tell the girls to wait there as I approach the merchant.

“Hi! I was wondering what your best blend is?” I ask brightly.

The old woman running the stand smiles. “Well hun, it depends on what you like.”

“Oh, it’s actually not for me, it’s for a friend of mine. I don’t know exactly what he likes, but I know nothing floral or sweet,” I explain.

She smiles again, and it’s the kind of maternal smile that mends a person. “I have just the thing.”

With her back turned, she continues to speak over her shoulder. “I know just about everyone ‘round these parts, but I’ve never seen you before so you must be with the Scouts. New recruit?”

I chuckle nervously, “Oh yeah, I might be their newest.” I feel bad lying to this lady but it’s much easier than trying to explain who I actually am.

“Who’s this friend you’re buying for?” She asks with all of the tact of a grandmother asking about when you’re going to get a significant other. 

“Oh, his name is Levi.”

She stops what she’s doing and looks at me. “As in Captain Levi?”

I smile and nod. I can tell she’s holding back what she really wants to say but she simply states, “Well, you’re in luck then because this particular tea that I’ve got for you happens to be his favorite.”

I look at her wide-eyed and she giggles a little. “He’s my best customer. If there’s one way to get in good with your boss, it’s going to be this.”

I blush a little and thank her. She hands the tea to me but as I go to pull out the coin purse that Levi gave me, she stops me. She glances down at it, clearly recognizing it to be his, and whispers “It looks like maybe you’re already in with him. This one is on the house sweetheart, as long as you promise to come back and visit me again.”

My blush deepens but I smile broadly at her. “I promise.” She pats my arm gently and sends me on my way.

Returning to the girls, Suki asks, “What was that all about?”

Before I can answer, Toph chimes in asking, “And why is your heart racing?”

I roll my eyes and say, “It was nothing, just a good conversation with a really sweet older lady.”

We continue to scope out the market and Toph mischeviously whispers only loud enough for me to hear, “Liar.”

I meet her with a swift punch to the arm and we go about finishing our shopping. When we get back home, I run to Hange to tell her about our picnic plans.

“I don’t think we’ve ever done anything like that,” She muses.

“All the better!” I laugh a little. “I got the idea specifically so I would have a reason to wear a dress that I fell in love with at the market.”

“You know, I don’t think I can picture you in a dress.”

“Ugh, why does everyone keep saying that!”

She laughs as she grabs me to head to dinner, but I excuse myself telling her that I’d meet her in the mess hall. I grab the tea and Levi’s change and slip into his office. Like I had suspected, it was vacant. I leave the little box and the velvet bag with change on his desk, along with a note saying:

“Thank you so much for the money, it really made it a fun trip. I met a friend of yours while I was out, she guaranteed that you’d like this!”

Happy with my little surprise, I leave to meet up with everyone for dinner.

[mareenavee]

WIP Wednesday WHENEVER :>

Hi everyone. I have a busy day today so I'll tag ya'll instead lol <3

Tagging the amazing and wonderful @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @thequeenofthewinter, @throughtrialbyfire, @wildhexe, @oblivions-dawn, @archangelsunited, @gilgamish, @dirty-bosmer, @kookaburra1701, @inquisition-dragonborn, @snippetsrus, @saltymaplesyrup, @expended-sleeper, @orfeoarte, @elfinismsarts, @ladytanithia, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @polypolymorph, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3, @rhiannon1199, @viss-and-pinegar, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2, and YOU. Yep. If I've forgotten you, then you're tagged. Feel free to tag me back :>

I have two active WIPS today so you'll get a ~400 word fragment of each <3

Below the cut!

1) Light the Way (yet unpublished) Set in the 3rd Era, (and canon to World's fic universe) our Nerevarine Teldryn Sero has somehow convinced Neloth not to blatantly start a war, and to instead try a different approach to achieve his goals.

Sero’s face twisted through several emotions before it settled back into the familiar frustrated scowl he always wore. “The Empire can go f—”

“ —yes, yes, we know your sentiment. Spare me the histrionics, if you don’t mind,” Neloth interrupted with a flap of his hand, “because we do rather have things to accomplish today if we aren’t simply going to wreak havoc on the Mainland as I’d intended.”

“You know, we will have to discuss that topic again later,” Sero drawled, scratching the back of his neck. “As much as I don’t want to. For now, though, you’re right.” He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hortator. It’s madness.”

Neloth glanced over at the distracted Nerevarine, caught in the glare from the soul gem. He’d likely win a prize for brooding if such a contest existed. Nobody seemed quite as capable of being so sullen over something as ridiculous as this. Granted, it was a responsibility that came with expectations even Neloth would be remiss to shrug off in favor of this abolitionist nonsense. But, like anything worth having, he’d eventually have little choice but to take the title. Or—Sero being Sero—convince himself he’d already earned it. The utter chivalry of the entire situation got exhausting after a while. What had happened to the slovenly bandit with a chip on his shoulder?

Though, come to think of it, Sero had never really been the type who allowed himself to be pointed in a direction and told to stab. He’d always been too clever for whatever he’d believed about himself all those years before. Not that he’d be caught dead telling the fool that, though.

Neloth shuddered at the implications of admitting any kind of respect for a non-mage, first of all, and an otherwise nameless urchin besides. Imagine. The Council would be in hysterics, and the ruse would be dropped, and every ounce of power he’d clawed to himself would evaporate in the blink of an eye. No. Securing a seat on the Grand Council was imperative if he wanted to keep his status. One did not simply earn a seat the same as anywhere else. Connections—or honestly, more like assassinations and lies. No. There had to be concrete proof of concept. What, exactly, could one do as a Grand Councilor that would advance the House’s position as a whole?

Destroy another house—especially one intent on encroaching on one’s own—by any means necessary.

2) The World on Our Shoulders, Chapter 31 The Embassy Arc begins and Athis is reeling from his encounter with someone some of you may find a bit...familiar :>

“You have no chance here,” the Altmer said. Athis paused and glanced at the man, eyebrow furrowed. His tone was matter of fact, like this was Gods-given truth. “They will find you and you’ll be no better off than I am.”

“We have a werewolf on our side, actually,” Athis said dryly as he scraped at the lock with his knife. “They’re welcome to try.”

“You are in over your head, Athis,” the Altmer said. Athis froze. For a second, he felt his heart all but stop. He exhaled through his nose. The man had to have heard Avulstein bellowing orders like he was leading the charge. That was the only explanation. The Altmer laughed, a mirthless thing. “Yes, just as I thought. I know who you are. We’ve known for a while now. Tell me, have you any idea where Nyenna ended up?” Athis slowly backed away, dropping the hunter’s knife in favor of his sword. The Altmer grinned crookedly and let out a low chuckle. “Because I do.”

Who was this?

“I’ll leave you here,” Athis warned, anger or bile rising in his throat, “and when Farkas is done here, there’ll be nobody left and you’ll rot alone in the darkness.”

“You wouldn’t, despite wiser advice,” the Altmer said, picking a thread off of his roughspun tunic. “That’s not who you are, from what’s been observed.” His voice had taken on a matter-of-fact tone. He was right, but Athis was still reeling.

“What do you know of Nyenna?” he asked after a moment, voice wavering. He swallowed hard. He had so many other questions, but the mention of her in a place like this… He had to know.

The Altmer seemed to ponder the question for a moment. “She’s on Solstheim. In a bit of a bad way, the last I’d heard, but the Telvanni are working on resolving the problem.”

“You’re lying.” Athis felt a knot form in his gut. A bad way? He knew then that listening to Aela’s advice had been a horrible mistake. That, or he’d fallen into some kind of trap.

“Believe whatever you want,” the Altmer said, gazing at his nails, caked as they were with dirt. He picked at them absently. “Regardless, it's as I said." He paused, listening intently as crashing sounded from somewhere on the upper levels of the keep. “The issue of Nyenna aside, you’ll never understand the gravity of what you’ve done here today. This will follow you. You’ve played right into their hands.”

[grayintogreen]

ROSEVERSE OST VOLUME ONE

Contains the inspo tracks for the first three fics in Roseverse. Also has liner notes under the cut because I have to explain some of these.

One Good Reason- Eric Stuart Band This is basically the song that inspired the things you hold most dear may not survive another day and kinda remains the main theme for Huskerdust in this first part of the series.

The River Won’t Flow- Songs for a New World So some of the songs on this playlist are not necessarily here because they fit moments, but because in my undying dedication to canon accuracy as close as I can manage, there’s moments where I’m like “SONG GOES HERE.” And in lieu of writing my own (because I can’t), I just flailed around until I found a song that fit the “vibe.” In this instance, this specific vibe this song offers suits a song about Lucifer reacting to the suggestion of sealing his powers and how this will showcase his humility (while hinting that he is EXTREMELY HUMBLED BY EVERYTHING).

Nobody’s Side- Scott Coulter I have so many covers of “Nobody’s Side” and not a damn one of them really fit the vibe I wanted here, so I just dropped the least offensive option. In an ideal world, a technoswing version of “Nobody’s Side” would be sung when Husk confronts Alastor about being Angel’s bodyguard.

Brave Face- Delta Goodrem Just a cute little song for the Chaggie moment in Chapter One.

Lithium- Nirvana I was going through a playlist of songs with sick guitar riffs and just was like “Yeah, Adam in the middle of a rage depression playing Nirvana on his guitar is fully what I wanted from that scene.”

Comfort Eagle- Cake This is simultaneously the perfect song to be playing in the background for the Adam and the Vees confrontation, but also god I want a musical number between Adam and Vox that is basically Comfort Eagle But Broadway.

The Fool- Ryn Carver Angel and Husk’s conversation as they leave the hotel in Chapter Two.

Kiss Quick- Matt Nathanson More Huskerdust pining, but now they’re at the porn studio.

VBS- Lucy Dacus Vaggie and Lucifer’s conversation in Chapter Two.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find- Bessie Smith Alastor at the end of Chapter Two in Eve’s domain.

Bottom of the River- Delta Rae Alastor’s flashback.

Hell on Heels- Pistol Annies Meet Eve! She’s awful!

The Lamb- Dessa Husk and Alastor’s conversation in the radio tower.

The Judgment- Elvis Costello Husk stands up for Angel.

Don’t Say Yes Until I Finish Talking- Christian Borle and the cast of Smash Another one of the “I just want a song here and can’t write one.” This song is actually specifically invoked in the prose even. In an ideal world, a song with this exact rhythm and sentiment would be performed by Vox (and occasionally Val trying to get a word in edgewise) during the confrontation at the studio. Bonus points for being sung by Vox’s VA.

Doing the Best That I Can (Escape From Berlin)- Stevie Nicks Husk and Angel’s “not-a-date.”

You Are the Problem Here- First Aid Kit Eve and Adam at the end of Chapter Three

The Rhythm of Life- Sweet Charity ONCE MORE WITH FEELING. This song does not fit the moment, but it’s the specific energy I want from a Vaggie and Angel number about her training him to take charge in the escape room.

We Both Reached For the Gun- Chicago Honest to God, the Radio Duel between Lucifer and Alastor is supposed to be this, but I could not write it out in the way I wanted without being obnoxious, but trust me that is what it’s supposed to look like.

Secondary Characters- title of show Bonus track of Chance and Diana realizing they’re the main characters while Husk and Angel are trapped in the closet.

Work Your Way Out- Ani DiFranco If you want to give yourself heart palpitations, listen to this song while reading the scene of Husk and Angel in the closet. It’s great.

All For Believing- Missy Higgins More Husk and Angel pining at the end of Chapter Four.

Feeling Good- Nina Simone Casino Demon theme.

A Tisket, a Tasket- Ella Fitzgerald On the Sunny Side of the Street- Ted Lewis Wishing (Will Make It So)- Vera Lynn

These are the three songs playing when Husk visits Al in his room, chosen for specific reasons. The first is for dissonance since it’s a silly little song that starts us off on something that is meant to be intimidating and creepy. The second- also for dissonance- is a friendly, cheerful song to play over the tension of Husk and Al’s conversation. The final song is indicative of Husk’s mental state.

Shape of My Heart- Josh Groban, Leslie Odom, Jr. In my head the Huskerdust sex scene would turn into a more reserved fantasy as the two of them distance themselves from the fact that they are, you know, on camera by singing a duet. Honestly, this song works almost perfectly for it with the card motifs without having to just hold it up for vibes.

Gunning Down Romance- Savage Garden SONGS FOR HUSK RUINING EVERYTHING.

Two Evils- Bastille My DM once played me this song at a pivotal moment in the narrative we were running and it’s stayed with me ever since. It’s got the perfect ambiance for Alastor and Husk’s conversation at the diner.

This is Gonna Hurt- Sixx AM Angel in the limo at the end of Chapter Five.

End of the World News- Tom McRae I imagine this song playing over a montage of scenes at the top of Chapter Six in the aftermath of Angel’s defection.

Capital G- Nine Inch Nails Adam’s broadcast.

Don’t Scare Me Papa (Axeman’s Rag)- Squirrel Nut Zippers Song specifically invoked by Alastor because he’s a nerd.

Holding Out For a Hero- Bonnie Tyler SIEGE OF VEE TOWER LET’S GO.

Wreck- Mieka Pauley Eve at the end of Chapter Six.

Candleburn- Dishwalla Lucifer at the top of Chapter Seven. Everyone cry.

Someone to Fall Back On- Jason Robert Brown Husk and Angel, the morning after.

Eat Them Apples- Suzi Wu Jez, who is absolutely NOT Eve, even though her theme seems to have so much Eve related imagery. Cannot imagine that’s relevant.

bury a friend- Pomplamoose Alastor gets his shit dragged out in front of everyone and Charlie gets her feelings hurt. (Thanks Eve.)

Secret- Denmark + Winter Vaggie and the gang at the diner learning all the Unfortunate Things.

Sabbath Incantation- Thom Yorke Charlie and Jez and the seal.

Case of the Ex- Mya Eve’s ascension and Adam’s death.

Walk Through the Fire- BtVS Cast This is my “Charlie drags herself out of the ruins of her dream” song as the gang prepares to face Eve. Obviously it’s not beat for beat perfect, BUT IT’S THE VIBE.

Nothing Left to Lose- Jeremy Jordan, Eden Espinosa This on the other hand… Listen, I wrote that conversation between Lucifer and Eve with this song in mind. In my heart, it’s being sung between them in that moment, only with slightly different lyrics.

I Didn’t Know I’d Love You So Much- Repo! The Genetic Opera See above. Literally wrote Charlie and Lucifer after Lucifer gets STABBED with this song in mind.

No Return- Craig Wedron, Aanna Waronker EVE FIGHT TO THE TUNE OF THE TOXIC FEMININITY THEME.

Wings- Birdy Charlie’s ascension + the power of love.

Forget About the Blame (Moon Version)- Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Lzzy Hale Lilith returns.

Last Exit to Eden- Amanda Marshall Aftermath, which does include Alastor eating Eve so that’s fun.

You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive- Kathy Mattea Six months later. I went through so many damn covers of this song for one that fit.

We’ll Meet Again- Vera Lynn And here we are in red, red roses and dead things. This is the Vera Lynn song Al plays for Charlie as he’s giving her the tour.

Weeping (w/ Ladysmith Black Mamba)- Josh Groban Lucifer trying to help and FAILING.

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden- Lynn Anderson Or “lyrical dissonance my beloved.”

Fingerbreaker- Jelly Roll Morton The Chicago Strut- Jelly Roll Morton, Gregory Hines, Keith David The two songs that Husk and Al perform while getting sloshed. I don’t think the second one has a sax in it at all but I’m Bad At Music. It does have Keith David though!

[yeehanfrf]

Week 10 Recs: When We Were Young

The Week 10 theme was "When We Were Young," all about fics featuring young (or younger) Yeehan! This means fics ranging from their teen years to their late twenties, and all manner of vague ages in between, but the point is: they're all pre-canon. Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

You can't take it with you by vaguely_concerned [2,304 words] Reccer comment: "its a series but it works on its own too"

Canon AU where the Shimada family and the Deadlock gang used to do business, Hanzo and Cassidy had a thing… and then Cassidy gets the ‘offer’ from Overwatch.

Teen and Up

Joy of Tournaments by Frankincense and Dunmyrrh (rawrawrawr) [21,783 words] Reccer comment: "Ok so this is also an AU and probably kind of niche, but I thought The Joy of Tournaments was really cute."

Between strenuous coursework, extracurricular activities, and trying to live up to his father’s expectations, Hanzo doesn’t have a lot of patience when it comes to his new debate partner’s laid-back attitude. While he might have joined Overwatch Academy’s Forensics team for the sake of a pretty note on his college applications, the experience becomes less about setting himself up for success and more about the unexpected bond forged between himself and Jesse McCree in the arena of competitive public speaking.

For McHanzo Week 2016, days Four ("Role Reversal") and Five ("Young Love").

Lights by vaguely_concerned [3,445 words] Reccer comment: "Young yeehan, Hanzo comes to Cole's rescue 🥺 first kiss 🥹"

Cole has never worked with a partner before.

Search Results by Tevokkia [WIP; 105,941 words] Reccer comment: "This high school AU is so sweet and a little meta."

Hanzo Shimada has run out of things to read and sets himself to browsing for recently-finished works. One story by "HighNoon" stands out, and he supposes the writing for the first few paragraphs is good enough to overlook that it's a Western AU.

Jesse McCree had just posted the last chapter of his current fic last night, and today there are a bunch of comments that could practically be chapters themselves. DoubleDragon turns out to be every writer's wet dream, and the comments section of his works are soon looking like a bunch of chat threads.

But what happens when HighNoon doesn't have anything left for DoubleDragon to read?

Mature

Lifelines by Chopsticks [11,688 words]

In theory, McCree thought it an easy enough job: go undercover, meet the yakuza informant, leave a convincing trail of a love affair for eyes that track. Nothing to it. Until said informant had to go and make him feel something real. For far too many years.

Explicit

Black Hole Sun by t_pock [4,256 words]

For some reason he hasn’t yet tossed his hand and found somewhere less foul to cut a deal. Something has him planted with his wingtips on the filthy floor instead of calling his chauffeur to return him to his hotel and ordering one of his lieutenants to burn this suit.   It may or may not be the hand between his legs.   Or, the Shimada scion encounters an unknown agent.

The Journalist and the Scion by ChillieBean [9,498 words]

“This is the target.”

A tablet is dropped in front of Cole and he turns it around, shifting his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue. He speed reads the brief, the usual pre-mission background, but his jaw hangs on one word.

“Shimada,” Cole breathes, taking his cigar between his knuckles before it drops in his lap. “Finally making a move?”

“Sure are,” Gabe answers, grinning as he leans back in his chair.

Lighting One Candle with Another Candle by motorghost [6,409 words] Reccer 1 comment: "I must admit it's rare for me to like young Yeehan stories, but Lighting One Candle with Another Candle by Motorghost is the only exception."

Reccer 2 comment: "A favorite smut fic that introduced me to this great writer."

It's winter in Hanamura. Cole Cassidy is on his first away mission. Shimada Hanzo is first son of the man Blackwatch is doing business with. Gabriel Reyes is going to get mad.

Memento by egoblow [5,128 words]

Get in. Get out. Seduce and distract then retrieve the intel. It seems simple enough. Easy. Amateur stuff really. Gabe had whored him out enough times in the name of Blackwatch that Jesse considers himself the master of honeypot missions.

Not that Jesse minds. Not one bit. He wouldn't agree to it if he did. The rush that comes with seducing some of the most powerful people on the planet sends such a thrill through his body that no aphrodisiac can match. He lets his gaze linger on his target a while longer and decides that tonight's target is the best yet.

---

Blackwatch!McCree seduces Scion!Hanzo in a honeypot scheme.

Not That I'm Complaining by robocryptid [28,981 words] Reccer 1 comment: "Not That I'm Complaining of course"

Reccer 2 comment: "no young Yeehan list is complete without Not That I'm Complaining"

An AU in which both Shimadas join Blackwatch, and Cole Cassidy falls in love dick first. Approximately 50/50 porn to feelings.

Scalpel or Bullet by robocryptid [Series; 14,374 words] Reccer comment: "if scion hanzo and blackwatch cole are fair game, then you have to include this steamy series"

Scion Hanzo meets Blackwatch Cassidy. That's pretty much the whole story.

Throwing Stones at the Stars by robocryptid [WIP; 92,329 words] Reccer 1 comment: "im sorry but i HAVE to rec throwing stones at the stars bc it gave me big brainworms"

Reccer 2 comment: "this is THE young McHanzo/Yeehan fic for me"

Reccer 3 comment: "loved the chemistry and the plot and the side characters/ocs. the asking questions scene in chapter 3 was very memorable. unrelated but i think this author predicted cassidy's new name??"

Despite Hanzo's competence, the Shimadas chose to hire a new bodyguard for the heirs. The elders found the one they wanted: an American mercenary so deadly some called him a demon. He was remarkably skilled, insolent, and above all mysterious. Genji, of course, liked him right away, but Hanzo had his doubts.

---

And that's a wrap on all our young(er) Yeehan fics! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. If you happen to find a fic you love using this rec list, be sure to leave the author kudos and a comment! Even "I found this fic because someone recced it" is a lovely thing to say.

Come back next time for Week 11: "He's a Magic Man," for all your mystical, magical, fantastical AUs.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 9 recs here, or check the full list of past and future themes here.

[river-muse]

May I hear about your Kyrie fic?

Oh, hello, Ember! Thank you for all the work you've been doing and all the awesome questions! I love reading them and discussing the ideas with my friends.

Gonna put this under a break because it might be a little lengthy.

Uh, this is going to be a weird and convoluted explanation because I have no clue how to shorten this. Please bear with me. The fic itself isn't Kyrie-centric, but she's a major part of it and I wanted to catch her side of the story with a song that had gotten released recently by Madds Buckley that fit the theme of it well.

I've been on like a super big brainrot train after not being in the fandom for like 10 years (I'd only ever played DMC4 before). I'm a super big fan of Dadgil content, and at some point I joked about the concept of the DMC4 events but if Nero had been raised by Vergil and was working with the Devil May Cry crew.

Well, me joking ends up with me doing 90% of the time, and now I have an extensive AU(unnamed, currently. A few hundred-thousand words in total) that has those hypothetical DMC4 events as the last multi-chapter fic of the series. I don't know if/when I'll ever post them since it's absolutely self-indulgent nonsense, but I appreciate the interest!

Kyrie in the story is very much like her canon counterpart. Though because Nero wasn't there to protect her she's grown wary of the Order's odd behavior as of late. In the fic she struggles to keep hold of her faith and it gets challenged moreso because Nero knows who he is. She also plays a more active role in the story, for reasons that I don't want to drop in case I do end up posting once most of the fic is good to go.

I would have answered sooner, but in true fanfic author fashion my house just got broken into when I got the notif for your ask xD We're safe and nothing was stolen, so don't be too worried on our behalf.

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Chapter 39: Pyre (Interlude)

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Thoughts of Suicide.

Words: 735

Summary:  For now, the fire is enough

A/N: A birthday gift from me to you.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

Pieces of the second Death Star continue to litter the forest floor of Endor all these years later. They have cemented themselves into the soil and are the cause for warped tree and layered vine. Unlike the lives which once occupied the abandoned Ewok huts, they are forever.

Six years late to festivities, the echos remain. The X-wing fighters, the comets of debris, the cheers and dance. There are unmarked graves, some empty, some filled. Rings have grown within trees to mark age, some are knocked down to stumps and frozen at war.

Stormtrooper helmets guide down a path of dirt. It’s cold, the beginning of winter. She’s not dressed for this weather, and a sunless sky makes the dark journey all the more ominous. 

She wonders if the Machine thought of her in his final moments. If he held any resentment or regret. If she was ever that important to his life. Lumina doesn’t want to give him the graces of her last thoughts and yet—

She meant for a permeant escape, and now worries he waits for her. Wherever it is he went.

She’s at a loss.

She cannot be.

Not an Imperial, not a Rebel. Not a Jedi, not a Sith. Not alone, not with company. She can’t have parents, she can’t be an orphan. She can’t swim, but she can’t seem to drown. She can’t live.

She can’t die.

But this… this she can do.

Grass never grew back, a large patch of beaten dirt by her feet. Lumina circles the surrounding area, gathering twigs and branches, bringing them to the center. She collects what little flowers survive and places them at the top.

Her foot steps on a Rebel medallion, either accidentally dropped or a purposeful placement. She loathes the possibility of the latter, but picks up the metal regardless. From the satchel on her side she produces an Imperial pin.

Each in a hand, neither feels lighter than the other, no matter the size. They each twinkle a bit under the stars, a small light between the foliage of the trees.

Lumina places the symbols beside the flowers, one on either side. She ignites Ahsoka’s lightsaber to a dangerous red. She doesn’t think the old Padawan was in attendance to the original ceremony, and hopes this will suffice. She lights the wood. 

She sits on the floor with her legs crossed, just far enough to be safe from the burning. She holds a lightbulb in her hands, the same from the Mandalorian’s torch.

She doesn’t want to talk, she hasn’t spoken in four days, she may not be able to anymore.

The fire reminds her of Mustafar, of home. She would have felt more at ease there, but for now her immaturity is too strong to consider the concept.

She isn’t ready to go back.

For now, the fire is enough.

Lumina doesn’t mourn, she doesn’t cry. The death of the Machine is, after all, a good thing. She’s kept him praised and unbeatable in her mind for so long. She excused everything he did to the Republic, the Jedi, his wife, her. She still does, just a little.

She wonders what good an enhanced body is if she is still susceptible to his illness. Though if she is as artificial as he was, there may not be a point in wondering.

She wishes he were here to share his wisdom, guide her next steps. The Machine was smarter than she’d ever give him credit for. He knew the person he wanted her to be and she absorbed every instruction like a sponge. He told her to sit a certain way, to speak in a distinct Mid-Rim accent, to devote herself to research. She never argued.

She wanted her father to be happy.

That’s all she ever wanted.

If her base template knew the Machine personally, Lumina hopes she was able to provide him with that.

Happiness.

One of them deserves it.

At least then she’d know she was created with some purpose of good. His desire for a companion, for a memory. Then he could only have failed himself, aimed too high. She could be innocence corrupted, an issue of nurture, not nature.

The odds are slim.

She sighs.

There is no light.

Lumina shoves the glass back into her bag and abandons her pyre on the brink of a blue apparition.

She never looks back.

-----

Chapter 40: After

-----

Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

[flannelepicurean]

Okay so also...

I started finally writing a fic thing because an idea occurred to me that would AT LONG LAST let me use my stupid fucking "Goky and Geets" joke/label. And it let me trot out one of my FAVORITE fun AU settings of, "It's like a Prohibition-era detective story, but it's also the 40s. And the 80s. And stuff. Kinda like Blade Runner, but more fun and less rain. It gets a little Ghibli sometimes. And they drop the bass at the clubs. Fedoras, and classic cars, and lasers, and Madonna on the radio. You know. That one."

And of course, the whole dynamic of, "It'd be kinda like a Batman/Catwoman thing, except Batman's...not that smart. And definitely not that rich. And Catwoman's a little...Dr. Frank-n-Furter?" and LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE just ran completely away with my every intention. And it has turned into something...so fascinating, to me.

Not the least part of which is, if you've been Around Here, On This Blog, you may have noted that one of my very blorbos is a royal little gremlin. And I am not a one who thinks you can't be a fan of both silly monkeys (especially since I like to make them kiss).

But I'm like...legit falling in love with Goku. I don't write him as a protag that often, and not in this much depth or detail, and not with as wide a cast, and it's been a really neat experience. And writing him as a detective (even though it doesn't stick AT ALL to real procedure) is...great. That analytical side of him is beautiful. He just applies it in a different way than I think is expected. Is he the greatest mind of his generation? No, but that's not his greatest strength; and it's not a total deficit, either. He's observant, he's thoughtful, and he can be strategic...he just also really, really wants to fight--which I think is in line with his canon character, too. Because he's actually a pretty witty combatant.

And I'm all of a sudden excited to write combat scenes (which I normally dread and fear), because the first time he really LEAPED into action, I felt like, "Oh fuck. Oh wow. THAT'S the thing!" Like...MOTHAFUCKIN' SON GOKU IS HERE!!!

And somebody about to get they shit ROCKED. REKT. 😂

And it continues to spiral, and evolve and grow; I've put down like maybe 15,000 words in 7 days. It keeps coming through really clear, and I keep being able to focus. And coming back through on editing passes, it's easier than usual to pick up threads and weave them together. To go back and see where it needs a chapter to bridge two points, or where something has grown too much and needs to be split. Or where something needs a different voice, and gets handed to a different character.

And I feel like...outline-wise, and planning-wise...it's there. Tentatively 15 chapters, but that could change. Current stats could put it just over 20k words, but again, no way to tell until it's done. But I really feel like I can get this done. It's been a lot easier to be methodical, and contain the plot bunnies, and just really stay focused.

There are some REALLY interesting things in there for ol' Geets, too, I think. As much as I feel like I'm just kinda hanging on and watching this happen, most of the time, it's been a roller-coaster seeing some canon stuff show up in a very topsy-turvy way, given the weird worldbuilding that's come up, and the necessity of how the story has changed because of it.

Anyway, I'm loving this ride, I know I'm late to the "I love Goku" party, but whatever, I brought cupcakes.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I always love your analysis of every characters for fanfics you're currently working on, those long posts you wrote about them always add more flavor and depth and it made me wonder.... do you usually write those kind of analysis first on a book or something before you start a fic, or do you just wing it every time?

I love slow burn but I don't think, as a writer, I have enough patience to create one myself and writers like you always amaze me to no end tbh :D

Aww thank you, you're way too kind.

The analyses always follow the work. There is some analysis predating the fics in the sense that I have general aims when I start a story that usually end up being expressed in the analyses, but it's really not until I'm down in the process of writing and developing that they become clear. And if I’m doing fanfiction, I’ve already had the canon character to pick apart for a while. The analyses then are just the best ways I have at explaining what I was trying to do.

If the question is if I like, plan out the story and all the intertwined character dynamics or if I just spitball in the moment, the answer is a little of both.

First off--disclaimer, the strategies I use for developing stories depend if i'm doing fanfiction or original fiction. Fanfiction i have way more story pieces from the start. It's like a sandbox filled with toys. With original fiction someone kicked me out of the passenger side door in the middle of the desert and I have to find water.

If it's fanfiction, nothing gets written down until I'm starting the fic itself. I know some people enjoy great success by outlining their story points on a plan ahead of time, but I never really was helped by that. It's more of a matter of personal taste. That being said, the story and the characters usually have their skeletons by the time I get to the writing stage.

I'm just a big daydreamer, honestly. An idea starts spiraling and then I have a few scenes and then it's more than a few scenes and we get the scenes that I really like and it's just like, constant fiddling and tweaking and discarding in my mind. Eventually I get like, this general shape in my mind as to what the story is going to be. It's not fully there but it's usually got the major beats and scenes I want already determined. If I like it enough, I'll sit down and try to write the first chapter.

The closest I get to like, plotting a fic out ahead of time is less an actual planning strategy and more that i have this long-suffering best friend who lets me spam text her descriptions of my stories. she has never watched a single episode of daredevil, yet she has suffered through extremely extensive descriptions of it, breakdowns of the characterisations, and probably like, fifty fanfiction explanations at this point. i may have left her with slightly more queer polyamory in her mental image of this franchise than there actually is. who's to say.

she is also why nhthcth exists. i was emboldened to finally drop that one by a different tma story i was explaining to her. she retains spiritual custody of danny stoker.

i take a completely different approach to fanfiction insofar as like, balancing character dynamics the way my analyses usually focus on than I do with original fiction. with fanfiction, I have a huge amount of source material to play with. I can spend time batting things around in my head. I actually usually start writing wayyyy sooner with original fiction because i know that i'm only going to figure out who these characters are if i am putting them in Situations that will all be scrapped in the second draft.

By the time I get to the writing point on fanfiction, though, I usually have a pretty solid understanding of who the character is—which is always based on what I think of in canon as the core base traits that make them them and then adapted based on how I think those would best interact with the story. Which is how you end up with things like kintsugi!Matt and hells!Matt, who have all of the same base characteristics but who still diverge. Both Matts are built of what I think of as like, core “Matt Murdock” traits—fear of being taken advantage of, self-hate for his own perceived (not actual) culpability in his abuse, rage, loneliness, effects of ableism, etc. That’s all just the inherent building blocks of Matt Murdock, in my mind, and I already had them from canon before I ever came up with either story.

It’s the way the discussions around these characteristics are framed that really diverge and allow them to stand as variants on the same character. Take ableism—both Matts struggle with the way society treats disability and the sheer anger they experience as a result. But k!Matt’s discussion of ableism is framed around the way the public sanctions these abuses as something that’s both totally acceptable and for the greater good. It’s a very broad, overbearing, societal focus on how ableism has affected him. Because k!Matt’s story is meant to be interacting with the Accords. Granted, that storyline is primarily going to be focused around Luke Cage, and we won’t be seeing it properly until after kintsugi wraps up (Luke’s own aside is going to act as a bridge with the first multi chapter fic and second), but his fears about being taken advantage of are integral to his interactions with Peter, who he perceives as someone exposed to the same vulnerability. Since the overarching narrative theme is societal justifications for abuse, that’s the tint Matt’s own focus on it adopts. H!Matt, meanwhile, needs a story that’s in interaction with Lisa’s.

So much of why Lisa was targeted by stick in the first place and why his method of psychological abuse took such root was inextricably intertwined with her own pervasive feeling of helplessness and anger in the face of her family’s brutal murder. In order to explain why Matt felt so strongly about personally helping her through what happened, it really needed to be emphasized that Matt was recognizing within her his own pain at that age and that no one had helped him. Each instance of abuse related to his disability in Matt’s childhood is meant to develop that pervasive experience of infuriating helplessness. So Matt’s discussion of ableism is all focused on personal experiences rather than overarching societal analysis, because it’s meant to dovetail with Lisa’s journey.

And I don’t want to pretend like these things are like, springing forth fully formed—the act of writing itself develops the characters to an insane degree. A lot of the tiny details I extrapolate on in the character analyses that I drop on here are usually things that are discovered in the act of writing. I talked in a previous post about glaze defects, and how Matt’s imagined Captain America is meant to be a reflection of what he needs, like, mentally at that stage of his life. I didn’t figure out that’s the role of the imaginary captain America was until the second or third time he showed up and the representation of him changed. The base idea of “Matt is superimposing his own thoughts on life as an enhanced person onto this representation of Steve Rogers” was there, but the reflection of Matt’s changing mindset and needs was only figured out when I started writing.

On a much grander scale, the characters are constantly being fleshed out during the writing process. Sometimes it fucks the original plan. I’ve mentioned in a different post that kintsugi actually had a different ending than it’s going to have now—it changed because I developed my understanding more of the characters and realized they would not do what I was planning for them to do. So I said “fuck fuck fuck” and had to tear up my plans for the next installment, but it makes for a better story in the end. You’re building the plane as you fly, to a degree.

See, the thing is, slow burn as like, a style for me came over time. There’s a lot of very old drafts from where I was first starting writing where I have characters changing their minds and coming to these big sweeping decisions and working together very very quickly. It was more as my style developed that I figured out how to slow down. That being said, some of my absolute favorite works on AO3 or in published fiction are short stories or one shots that my more slow burn style is pretty unsuited for. Writers who can encapsulate that kind of emotional weight with very limited space are cool as hell to me.

I will say that my slow burn style came less as a strategy of story development and more as one of character development. Like, it’s less centered around plotting or planning strategies and more of trying to herd characters like sheep without fucking their characterization.

I’m hesitant to call them rules of character development, because there are no rules. It’s more the I have like, a set of values I’ve developed over the years insofar as characters that I keep in mind with each character and how they interact with plot. Like questions I ask myself, if that makes sense. Guidelines? I dunno. The plot has to be constantly balanced and developed with respect to those. But it’s less of what we’ve discussed here and more independent considerations as to what I, personally, think makes for a good character.

[vertigovampires]

So small update I have a total of 10 pages of the book so far and a working title about 13 more pages to go before first chapter is finished honestly super proud had to put writing on pulse while I went to my adventure game but I’m back and on top of keeping the pages flowing here a little snippet of one of my favorite parts in the prologue!!

———

I knelt down clawing at stones and digging through the hot ash that burned my hands, my vision started to blur was the heat that intense that it stung my eyes, or was just crying.

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It’s not much but thought a little teaser would be fun to share as I work on this. So I wanted to give a little bit of context on where the book that I’m working on, is inspired from and how much information I can dive into this .

So about two-ish years ago my partner and I started doing a talk PG not game canon but while we were playing curse of strahd table top over two years, I built a whole world, history names of different parts, and a world map along with multiple characters, side characters, and among other things A shit ton of lore. I have enough information that I feel like I can write a decent fanfiction. I used to be a big fan fiction reader but always felt like the books kind of felt quick unrealistic to an extent to a point where it felt rushed there’s nothing wrong with that but I wanted to write some thing that was a slow burn. Kind of like Dracula minus in journal entries because let’s be honest that’s really hard to get through especially in this day and age.

I’m pulling from some old fashion, vampiric tropes along with trying to write fantasy for the minority without shoving it in everyone’s faces in a sense what I mean is the protagonist I based off of my own background of my own heritage I think that’s the only time I’m gonna actually mention it because I don’t want it to be some quick grab for people More of a Hey we’re here there’s a short description in the beginning of the book of the protagonist also known as Annalise looks like along with the cast of people who are all mixed about. I’m doing my best to base Strahd and other people who already written as they are. I will not be changing anything about them their luxe I may slightly pull from Romanian history and clothing accuracy, but nothing more.

Apart from that, I’ve always enjoyed fantasy in horror along with D&D and RPG tabletop games.

And pulling a lot of inspiration from many books, movies in DND. I want to do my best but I’m not expecting it to be perfect as this is my first time writing some thing this long I do have dyslexia, so I am asking a couple people to help me correct grammar and spelling. I’m currently using text to speech whilst typing this out on my phone.

It’s a big block to read if you read it through. Thanks so much I’ll be dropping more updates as time goes on.🖤🖤🖤⚔️⚔️⚔️🦇🦇🦇

Love y’all hope you stick with me while I work on this🖤