#on the other hand . I WANT TO BE IN SYRENA'S HEAD

[eliotquillon]

i reread stella and siena(aka 'boarding school girls'/'the temperley high series') by helen eve a few month ago and i cannot stop thinking abt them. stella having episodes of vertigo after siena killed herself and spending the rest of her life trying to recreate siena exactly so siena could live on through her only to die in the exact same clock tower.... syrena resorting to stealing all of stella's things because stella wanted to become siena and syrena wanted to keep her....the way siena told stella she should always have her hair down and in turn stella told syrena she should always be barefoot....the fact that jack desperately wanted to become his own person and wanted to go to university but ended up working for his dad anyway....these aren't perfect books by far but helen eve fucking cooked with the doomed narratives

[bengiyo]

Patts Was Going to Blow Tai. Tai Wanted It. Why That Matters.

Greetings, fellow clowns. I am here once again to gush about La Pluie. This time, I’m here to talk about how they’re pacing the sex in this show, and why I hope this is going to become the new norm in genre.

(gifs in this post borrowed from @wanderlust-in-my-soul, used with permission)

At the end of episode four, the end of episode five, and the beginning of episode 6, this show has shown us that Patts physically desires Saengtai. Their first kiss when Tai was drunk lacked any nervousness or uncertainty.

He checked him out four times when he accidentally walked into his room.

He kisses this man with a relief that only someone pining for a long time can feel.

I highly suspect that Tai is a virgin, but he is not embarrassed our shy about that. Tai is a romantic who literally reads Nora Roberts novels to calm down when he gets too excited (@syrena-del-mar​). We know Tai is a romantic who has recoiled inward from the disappointment about his parents. We know that connecting with Patts has reawakened much of this desire in him. What has been a quiet part of this show is how much the show is quietly affirming that Tai is a man. This is significant for me because of all the ways BL/yaoi often creates an uke for the women in the readership to project onto.

In episode four, at the end of the scene where Tai reads Patts’ letter, he jumps backwards onto the bed, and the show lets Title’s bulge bounce briefly. In episode six, we see what appears to be an intentional fold in his boxers to represent his dick print. Then, after he takes his shower, Tai is still thinking about their intimacy on the floor and the show uses sound effects to indicate that he’s still aroused from the moment. This show wants us to remember that these are two guys, and as such they’re approaching m/m intimacy a bit differently than we normally see from the genre.

After they begin kissing a bit, Tai leans into the moment, signified by an effective use of a prop. As a glasses wearer myself, I might have been more careful with my glasses, but I’m not a horny virgin caught up in the moment!

Patts was clearly fine with Tai being on top of him, and only turns them because he’s intending to do something else for him. See @wen-kexing-apologist​‘s post for a more extensive examination of the hands.

I can’t find the posts where we spoke about this before on Tumblr, but I don’t know a lot of folks in my life who are going to go a dinner with spicy foods and then immediately go back home and have anal sex (often with no lube in BL, though we’ve been seeing condoms more lately). There are so many things guys can do with each other long before that particular act, and this felt like the natural progression of their intimacy for the level they’re at.

We’ve also seen repeatedly how much regard Patts has for Saengtai. When he took him to dinner, he explicitly stated that he wants to know the things that Saengtai likes. He wants to take care of him. He wants things to be nice for him. There’s an asymmetry to giving and receiving head that I don’t think we see covered enough in BL. Patts wanted to do something to make Tai feel good.

Tai was clearly into it.

However, because they were caught up in the heat of the moment, and Patts has a good read on Tai, he stops it.

I am so glad this show was willing to show that Patts had to summon his restraint and allowed him to display a bit of frustration about slowing down. It makes him feel real. He’s waited seven years to be with his soulmate, and it turns out they’re compatible! However, there’s no turning off their telepathic connection. Patts wants to do this right. It’s important to do things right.

I need someone who’s more versed in the yaoi framing around seme and uke to look at the couch scene again, because it felt significant that Patts moved himself to the right side of the frame when he wanted to be closer to Saengtai (something he also did in the restaurant with the dad). I think Patts is showing us and Tai that he is willing to adjust himself to any role he needs for Tai’s comfort, which is his primary goal. It also felt significant that he softened more than he has up to this point to reassure Tai that he can want big romantic moments for himself.

I also loved how intentionally Patts removed his hands from Tai when it was clear Tai wanted him to stop touching.

I have a lot I love about this show. I love how it’s subverting the soulmate trope by having Tai and Patts take their time with each other to figure out what kind of relationship they want to have. I like how they’re doing that even as their friends and families are all-but-rushing them into bed with each other.

This show is special, and I cannot state how relieved I was by how this show has avoided faking us out about sexual desire and tension. I like that this show released the tension built up from the last season in a way that also let us learn more about the characters, and let them learn about each other. I’m going to need this to be the year more BL characters blow each other for the plot.

Thank you for coming to my post.

Special shoutouts to @lurkingshan​ and @ginnymoonbeam​ as well for talking through all the ways La Pluie has been playing with and using romance genre expectations.

[aggressivelyaverage21]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61293925/chapters/158475391

Syrena gets a wake-up call. Mira gets tossed around. Teine is a massive shit. Grio takes a shit. Our girls enjoy the hyopothetical 'another time.' (They fuck)

Syrena was unfortunately up with the sun. Rowdy commotion in the hall from the group of returning patrol riders was up there for her least favorite methods of being woken up. But sleeping in hadn’t ever been a privilege Syrena was allowed; it wouldn’t start being one on the front of the biggest fight the continent had seen in centuries. She rolled from the bed, releasing a string of pops from her back just as likely to be from the hour she’d spent with Mira Sorrengail bent over books as it was from her and Grio’s eight-hour flight for supplies. 

She pulled on her flight leathers, slipping her daggers into their sheaths and grabbing her bow. She’d promised to help that specific rider figure out some flying techniques today. Not that Syrena knew much about dragon flying, but if Mira thought she might be able to help enough that she’d swallowed that famous rider's arrogance to ask– she was willing to try. She even knew the perfect spot for it. 

Speak of Malek.  

The rider was waiting outside of her door with two steaming cups. She was dressed in flight leathers, every visible sheath (probably every hidden one as well) occupied. Her flight goggles in their perch just behind her hairline, and her gloves tucked into the waist of her leathers. By all appearances, Mira was raring to go. “So. When I said ‘we will figure this out when you wake up,’ you took that literally.” 

“I haven’t been here long.” Mira had been about to knock, the door just happened to open before she had the time to shift both cups to one hand. The coffee had partially been a peace offering for that, but also an apology for the momentary bout of vulnerability that had taken control of her the night prior. It absolutely wasn’t because of their other shared moment and how it left a lingering piece of warmth in her chest and heat… elsewhere. “Here.” 

“I refuse to go flying without breakfast first.” Her hands wrapped around the cup, thankful for the warmth through its walls on the cool October morning. The temperature was starting to drop pretty quickly as November approached. Samhain was in a few days, and Syrena made a mental note to ask Mira if the riders had any traditions they might be able to accommodate. 

Despite what she said, thank you is what Mira heard as Syrena’s hands cradled the cup like it was something precious, with a small smile. The small dimple in her right cheek wasn’t something that Mira had really noticed before. Mira ducked her head a bit, lifting her own cup in acknowledgment but also slightly embarrassed to be caught so eager. “Of course.” 

And she was. Eager. 

Mira loved flying. She loved training. She loved figuring out new maneuvers with Teine. They both did. So even though the consequences of not nailing this new maneuver had her stressed, she was still excited to work on it. Even if Teine was less than thrilled they would have company for their flight time. 

Syrena wanted to ask the woman if she’d slept okay, or if she’d actually managed to get any at all, but that seemed redundant. Mira looked like she felt better. Her honey-brown eyes were a little brighter. The assuredness back in her posture. The circles beneath her eyes not so deep. The color back to her cheeks. 

But commenting on all of that felt like it would be the wrong move. She very much doubted the rider would appreciate her bringing up the state she’d found her in the night before. Mira didn’t appreciate her comments on it last night either. 

Instead, they walked quietly next to each other toward the mess, sipping their coffee, their shoulders occasionally brushing. Then there was that whole awkward bit where Mira had lunged to hold the door open for Syrena at the same time she’d stepped aside to do the same. The dual ‘after you’ was a little much. Syrena was the one who conceded, accepting the offer. It was hard to complain about two polite, borderline chivalrous gestures before the sun was even fully clear of the horizon. 

She especially didn’t hate the way Mira was eyeing her as she cut her apple into her oatmeal, pulling the fruit between her blade and her thumb. That was until Mira finally caught herself when Syrena raised an eyebrow at her and turned her attention instead to the biscuit she’d grabbed– sweetened with apples and a honey glaze, similar to the Tyrresh ones. 

All the riders seemed to be obsessed with them when they were available, to the point fliers had taken notice enough to complain about them taking all the treats. But the way Mira savored the sweetness, breaking off a small piece between her fingers, her eyes fluttering closed with a content little hum as she tasted it… Syrena didn’t mind at all. 

Even if the hum was slightly more like a moan and left her nearly choking on her coffee before she recovered enough to smirk at the normally so stoic woman. “Enjoying yourself?” 

Mira shrugged, not at all bothered by being called out. “These things are fucking delicious. I’m not ashamed about a little indulgence. Why should I be?” The ‘we might die tomorrow’ left completely unsaid didn’t even temper Syrena’s fascination with the way Mira’s long fingers picked apart the crumbling bread. The way she raised it to her lips, savoring every crumb and every drop of the honey against her bottom lip. 

Syrena was entrapped. 

And if the smirk now on those lips, or the twinkle in the corner of the rider’s eyes, were any indicator, Mira knew it too. “Your porridge is getting cold.” She nodded at Syrena’s bowl, a teasing lit to her voice to match every other part of her posture as she leaned over the table. 

She cleared her throat and forced her eyes away from Mira’s. She’d never seen someone so hard, cutting (and occasionally cruel), who had such warm eyes. Like she said, entrapped. 

Keep Reading

[shipmistress9]

Making Up For Missed Opportunities

Fandom: Fourth Wing - The Empyrean

Pairing: Liam/Xaden (with Violiaden background)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: After the night Liam spent with Xaden and Violet, he wonders whether he'd enjoy getting Dominated by Xaden, too. Xaden promises him nothing short of the best orgasm of his life.

AO3

. o O o .

Liam

“Alright. Any questions?” Xaden looks around into each face gathered around the large table in his room, then nods. “Good. Then everything’s settled for this delivery. Go and get some sleep, Violet and Imogen especially.”

Imogen rolls her eyes. “Yes, Mom,“ she mutters, earning herself some quiet laughter, then adds “As if we couldn’t sleep on our dragon’s backs during the flight.”

“You can,” Bodhi quips back, smirking. “But you’re going to regret it for days when you’re neck’s stiff and the resulting headache is making you sick.”

There’s more laughter, Imogen mumbling an incoherent reply, and everyone files out of the room. Violet stays the longest, as usual, and I try not to be too obtrusive as I watch her and Xaden kiss goodbye from the corner of my eye. On her way out, she pauses to give me a peck on the cheek that makes something in my stomach flutter but doesn’t say or ask anything as she closes the door behind herself.

“Is there something else, Liam?” Xaden cocks his head at me.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, there’s… there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

I feel a blush rise to my cheeks, hoping that he doesn’t notice it, but of course, that hope is in vain; when I look at him, there’s an undeniable gleam of curiosity in his eyes. “If you were wondering why I didn’t send you on this—” he gestures at the table where we discussed the next weapon delivery to Syrena only minutes ago, but I interrupt him before he can finish his question.

“No, no, it’s not about that at all. It’s more about—” I vaguely wave a hand in the direction of the other side of his room, to where his huge bed stands— ”this.”

“Oh,” Xaden relaxes visibly, and something of a smile spreads across his face. “What about it?”

“I…” I hesitate, not quite sure how I’d planned to pose this question when I thought about this over the last few days.

“Hey, you can ask me anything, remember? And Violet, too, for that matter. That’s the only way this can work, when we talk openly about whatever bugs us.”

His words comfort me, even though they still feel as surreal as during that first night.

I nod, and this should be my opening. But instead, another question pushes itself to the forefront of my mind, my tongue. “Why did things between us change back then? Why did we drift apart when you discovered dominance as a sexual tool?”

“That’s not…” Xaden stiffens for a heartbeat, then takes a deep breath and nods, mostly to himself. “Right, so… back in Tirvainne, when I discovered these kinds of relationships and how they could influence my sex life, I was… overwhelmed by all the possibilities.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It was intoxicating, and I was eager to learn and try everything about it. There was a group of people living in town then, who… taught me, you could say. Who were more experienced.”

I frown, remembering how he kept sneaking out of our room at Duke Lindell’s estate, night after night. “So… that was it? Things between us changed because you didn’t want me to be your submissive?”

Xaden exhales a shaky breath. “I… never said that.”

Something flares in my chest, a mix of hope and heat. And yet… “But you never asked me, either.”

For a heartbeat or three, Xaden closes his eyes, his face contorted in what could be pain, and when he looks at me again, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes, I’ve rarely seen on him. “Because I was scared,” he all but whispers. “I… back then, above everything else, I was inexperienced. I didn’t yet know how far this control could truly reach, how to make sure my being in control was still consensual. And with… with how close we were, I was scared to go too far with you, wasn’t sure I could still recognise the line between being a dominant partner and being a Dom.”

I nod. “I see.” And I do. Looking back, I can understand his worries, what with how I enjoyed and often even encouraged him to take the lead.

“Yeah,” Xaden sighs. “But don’t worry. I know by now how to separate these things. It won’t affect you aside from how I treat Violet on occasion.”

Biting my lip, I avert my eyes. “And… if I wanted it to affect me more?”

Xaden stills, and when I glance back up at him, there’s a strange gleam in his eyes. “Do you?”

I take a deep shaky breath to gather my courage. “You were right, back then I wasn’t interested, and even found your new interest intimidating. But now… I saw how it worked out for you and Violet the other night, and… I’m curious, I guess. It certainly wasn’t as… as frightening as I imagined it.” I laugh weakly.

Xaden stays serious, though, and pulls one of the chairs away from the table to sit on it the wrong way around, his arms crossed atop the backrest. “It can be a lot to take in at first,” he concedes. “But if you really want to give it a try, we can start simple.”

“That sounds as if you already have something in mind.” Following his example, I also sit down, leaning back in an attempt to appear calm. I don’t think I’m fooling anyone, though, not even myself.

Xaden shrugs, something like half a smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s possible that I, at some points in my life, imagined what I’d like to do to you if you’d ever let me.”

I gulp. His words could be considered scary or at the very least obtrusive. But they have the opposite effect on me, heating my blood and making my heart beat quicker. “And… what would you have in mind?”

The way Xaden looks at me makes it impossible for me to look away. “For this first trial run, I’d pick something… something we already used to do, in case you’re still into that, but ramp it up a bit.”

I listen avidly to Xaden explaining, and with every word, it becomes more and more difficult to sit still. To not shift into a position that might accommodate my hardening cock better, to not let my hand fall between my thighs and rub against the growing bulge there. It sounds amazing, all of it, but especially when he promises me the best orgasm of my life, and I know I’ll have difficulties falling asleep later.

“The most important difference is that I wouldn’t necessarily end it just because you beg for it,” Xaden explains, his face still as serious and calm as if he’s not affected by our conversation at all. “In fact, getting you to beg can be half the fun, depending on the situation.” He smirks. “But in general, I determin how far I push you–ow far I can push you–unless you use a specific safe word. For this time, I’ll accept it if you say stop or something like that, but should we get deeper into it, you’d have to pick some other word, something unrelated to the scene, something you’ll only say when things don’t feel good anymore, when you truly need me to stop or it’ll get too much for you.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about safe words before. I just… have no idea what I could use.”

Xaden shrugs. “As I said, for this time, stop is fine. You can come up with another one in case you want to do this more often, or you can adopt one of ours. I usually use parapet, and Violet, for whatever reason, chose squad leader.” He rolls his eyes, and I can’t suppress a grin. Violet teasing him even when she’s supposed to be submissive is so her.

“I like parapet. Important enough that I certainly won’t forget it, but definitely not sexy.”

Xaden snorts. “Agreed.” He straightens and stretches as if to get rid of some stiffness in his muscles. “Right. Any more questions? Or do you want to get started directly?”

I blink, dumbfounded. “W-what? Tonight?”

“Well, you certainly seem to be aroused enough.” He nods at where I apparently started to palm my cock through my leathers without noticing it, and smirks. “And it’s not as if I’m expected anywhere else, with Violet needing her rest before the long flight tomorrow. But if this is too sudden now, we can pin down another date. Up to you.”

“N-no,” I stumble across my words. “Tonight is fine! I just…” I gasp out a small laugh. “I didn’t expect it, I guess.” Then another thought crosses my mind, and I frown. “But about Violet… are you sure this is okay? Won’t she be… upset or something?” Furious is more like it. Last time I checked, borrowing someone else’s boyfriend, especially without them knowing about it, wasn’t taken lightly by anyone.

However, Xaden’s expression softens, and he stands to walk over to me. “Liam… we meant what we said the other night. We’d like you to be a part of our we, and that means it doesn’t always have to be all three of us together. And before you bring that up now, that wasn’t only meant to apply to Violet and me spending the night without you. We’re not going behind her back here because she knows and agreed to us spending time together without her, including having sex.”

I know they explained this to me already, but I’m still having difficulties wrapping my head around it. “So… what? You’d be fine with me ‘fulfilling my guard duty’ in Violet’s bed instead of my own?” I laugh, shaking my head. This sounds so absurd.

But Xaden only snorts. “That would make a lot of things easier, eh? But yeah. While I openly admit I’d selfishly prefer to at least watch when you two are at it, it wouldn’t be an issue for me, as long as we’re all open and honest about it.”

I exhale a shaky breath, trying to wrap my head around that he’s actually serious about this. “So, you’d tell her about this? About us?”

“You mean, aside from the fact that she deliberately closed the door so the two of us had some privacy?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “But, yes and no. I’d let her know we had sex. However, how much she learns about the specifics is up to you. You deserve your privacy, too.”

Something settles in me at his words. I can’t say what it is, exactly, or how much of it I’ll accept later on, but at least for tonight, I don’t have to worry. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

. o O o .

Xaden

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe I should pinch myself to make sure I’m truly awake, but then… If this is a dream, then it’s the most realistic one I ever had and I don’t want it to end.

In his chair, Liam squares his shoulders, something within him visibly clicking into place. “Alright. Let’s do this,” he says, and I smirk at his eagerness.

Somewhere in my mind, something switches, settles, turning me into who he asked me to become. “Come here,” I say, my voice calm but firm, and when he obeys immediately, jumping out of his chair to stand before me, a pleasant shiver runs up my spine. As a youth, I woke far too many times to having made a mess of myself after dreaming about Liam letting me dominate him. Him now actively asking me for this… it’s so much better than any dream could ever be. Knowing that he trusts me so completely.

“From now on, you’ll do everything I tell you to,” I repeat what we’d agreed to earlier. “And only what I tell you to. You will not touch me and you will not touch yourself. Understood?”

Liam nods, eyes glassy, but that won’t do.

“Understood?” I repeat, one eyebrow raised, and he swallows.

“Yes, I understand,” he says, his voice hoarse in a way that makes my stomach clench.

“Good. Now, hold still for me.”

I push myself off the table to stand directly in front of him, as close as I can without our bodies touching. Our eyes meet, and the excitement and anticipation in his let me settle into my role completely, the rush intoxicating.

I bring my left hand up to cradle his face, gliding along his jaw and down to his neck, tilting his head to kiss him. His lips are soft and yielding, and I relish in kissing him again after all these years apart, but the moment he moves closer, his hands settling on my hips and his lips parting, I pull back.

“Ah, ah, ah. What did I tell you?”

Liam blinks, a little dazed, but quickly catches on. “You told me not to move,” he rasps, swallowing.

“Exactly. Now, shall we try again?” This time, I accept his silent nod, and when I kiss him again, he, indeed, doesn’t move beyond what I prompt him to do. Smiling, I deepen our kiss, my tongue slipping between his lips to slide along his, exploring, claiming every corner of his mouth. Liam moans, but otherwise does as I told him to, holding still and letting me have my way with him. Filling me with a high I’ve never felt with anyone else aside from Violet.

My lips trail down his neck, and with no effort, I find the spot I remember well, the one where I can feel his heartbeat pulse against my tongue and that makes his knees go weak when I suck on it.

Liam moans, trembling, and with my free hand, I place his hand on my waist, indicating that he now may hold on to me, then wrap my arm around him to stabilise him further. Fuck, this is so hot, better than I imagined, better than I remember. Just Liam clinging to me, strong arms holding on to me as I ravage his neck, nibble at his ear, my fingers tunnelling through his blond spiky strands. I feel like I could do this all night.

But the prominent bulge beneath Liam’s leathers, grinding against my own, reminds me of the plans we discussed, and, frankly, I’m more than ready to play.

“Mmh, that was nice, well done,” I purr into his ear before pulling back. “Now, I want you to strip off all your clothes. You won’t be needing them tonight anymore.”

Liam’s cheeks, already flushed, darken further, his gaze eager and hungry as he follows my order, and I get to enjoy watching his muscles move beneath his skin. It’s strange; Liam is the exact opposite of Violet, with his broad shoulders, muscles bunching with every move, hard beneath tanned skin. And yet, I never felt this kind of inner satisfaction I’m feeling watching him with any other partner, only with her.

Once he’s naked, I rake my eyes down his body, taking all of him in, including his cock hanging half-erect between his legs. I let my gaze linger, my lips pulling up into a crooked half-smile as he fills out more and even twitches the longer I wait. “Eager, are we? But you’ll have to be a bit more patient tonight.”

Liam swallows, his cock hardening even further, but doesn’t reply. Good.

I walk around him, reminding myself of all the sensitive spots I discovered years ago, letting my fingers trail over his skin but never touching those spots. Not yet.

Instead, I nod toward the bed at the other end of the room. “Lie down. On your back, on the middle of the bed.”

I watch Liam follow my order, biting the inside of my cheek against the warmth pooling at the base of my spine, then follow him slowly. Once he’s in the position I want him in, I crawl onto the bed and on top of him, still fully clothed against his naked skin, making sure I brush against him as much as possible. It has the desired effect, making him shudder and grunt at every other contact. Without a word, I push his arms up above his head, my hands gliding along his skin, until his hands brush against the headboard, the sturdy wooden bars worked into it.

“I won’t restrain you tonight,” I murmur against his temple, my lips brushing against his skin. “But I want you to hold on to these bars. If you let go of them before I tell you to, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

A groan slips off Liam’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut. “Y-yes,” he gasps. “I understand.”

I smile and nib at his ear. “Good boy.”

A full-body shudder races through Liam, his cock twitching against my inner thigh, and I smirk. I’m not surprised he has a bit of a praise kink, but it certainly works in my favour.

I work my way down his neck, his jaw, and flick my tongue against his tightly pressed shut lips. “None of that, handsome. I want to hear you.” Liam gasps, his lips parting for a low moan, and I hum against his neck. “Yeah, just like that. Let me know what you like.”

I already know what he likes, remembering so much despite the years that passed—that thing the other night doesn’t count, since I barely got the chance to get my hands on him. But it’s always good to start off with exploring a partner, getting a feel for how they react, what gets them going.

So that’s what I do, mapping his body with my hands and lips. His skin is hot against my own, his moans like sweet music to my ears whenever I reach and linger on a sensitive spot, his body twitching and shuddering. “You look so good, stretched out like this,” I muse, my lips near his navel, and he grows tense, his breathing coming in laboured gasps. “And all for me.”

I draw a circle around his navel with my tongue, remembering how sensitive he is here, but pull back when his hips buck up in search of just any stimulation against his cock.

“Sh-shit,” Liam groans, fighting to keep himself still as I watch him with a raised eyebrow. “No, please don’t stop. I…I’m sorry. I’ll be good now.”

I suppress a groan as desire spears through me and right down to my cock, making my leathers grow tight. Liam isn’t the only one who needs to be patient tonight.

“I hope you will,” I growl, my hands on his knees as I kneel between his legs. “Only good boys get to come. Eventually.”

Liam lets out another shuddering groan, and I smile, letting my hands glide up the inside of his thighs. His breathing quickens and his cock fills out even more, fully erect now as my fingers move closer and closer. His head is lifted, watching with avid eyes, just like me, his legs trembling with the tension of holding himself still for me.

“You’re so good for me,” I murmur, smirking. “But it’s still too early for this, don’t you think?” My hand slides further up his body, past his cock without touching it, and Liam’s desperate whine makes my cock strain further against its confinement. But it’s too early for this, too, I remind myself.

I keep exploring his gorgeous body, every plain of sweat-covered skin, every defined muscle, every strained sinew. I lick and feel and kiss all of him, fully indulging in having Liam in my bed again. Gods, I’ve missed this so much, missed him.

When I reach his nipples, he curses low under his breath, again trembling with the tension in his body. Smiling to myself, I focus my entire attention on these sensitive buds, caressing one and licking the other, pinching and sucking, biting and twisting. It draws a stream of moans and curses from Liam’s throat, his chest heaving beneath me, and I keep going for a minute or two longer before I release him. From the corner of my eye, I see pre beading at the tip of his cock.

With a satisfied smile, I move further up until my lips reach his again. “You’re doing great, handsome. So good, holding still for me and letting me play with you. I think you deserve a small reward.”

“Yes,” Liam mewls, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, please.”

Humming, I kiss him, deep, my tongue in his mouth before he can react, claiming every part of him as I grind my crotch against his thigh, letting him feel me. “See what you’re doing to me? Fuck, I can’t wait to have you, making you scream as you come on my cock.”

“Oh, shit!” he groans, his body arching off the bed without his help. He catches himself, but not before his cock grinds against my stomach, smearing his pre along my tunic. “Ah, no. S-sorry… I’m sorry! Oh, please…”

I snort. “Naughty. But don’t worry, I won’t punish you for this mishap. I imagine what I’ve planned will be… hard enough for you.” I pull back to kneel upright between his legs again, leaving him whining at the loss of contact. Fuck, he’s so hot. This will be hard for me, too.

“Stay exactly like this. I’ll be back in a moment.” I get off the bed and walk over to my armoire, or my treasure chest, as Violet named it, unable to keep myself from smiling when I think about her. I hope Liam will enjoy this night, will allow me to play with him again, maybe even with him and Violet at the same time. Gods, the options…

I shake my head. This night is only about Liam, and I owe him to focus on him alone.

I grab a bottle of oil and, after ponding for a moment, a butt plug, too. Not too sizable, but a little longer and curved. Just perfect for tonight.

“I want you to bend your knees and place your feet on the bed,” I say as I return to the bed. “Yeah, just like that. You’re a fucking natural at this, aren’t you?” Liam grunts, and I smirk. I resume my position between his legs and run my hands down the undersides of his thighs and grab his ass, beautifully on display for me. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.”

Liam moans, but seems to have calmed down at least a little, his cock now resting against his stomach, flushed and heavy, a small pool of pre gathering at its tip.

“I’ll work open your ass now. At least try to hold still, okay?” I smirk at Liam’s groan, turning into a strained cry when I bring my lubed finger to his hole. My other hand is on his knee, his thigh, comforting him as I draw tight circles before pressing in a little, gently, slowly. I take my time for this, both for his sake and mine, enjoying the give of tight muscles, the never-ending stream of whining and keening sounds. In and out I move, only going in the tiniest bit deeper with every turn. Fuck, he’s so hot, so tight, and so fucking responsive, his cock twitching and leaking constantly.

Eventually, I add a second finger, pushing in even deeper and scissoring him open before crooking my fingers to search for his prostate. I know when I find it, Liam shouting and arching off the bed. “There we go,” I croon. I press my free hand against his pelvis, keeping him in place as I rub and press against that spot a few more times, relishing in how he becomes louder and needier with every second, before pulling out completely.

He’s shaking, his breathing quick and shallow, but his eyes are open wide, watching me with parted lips and eager anticipation.

“I’ll put a plug into your ass now,” I announce, making sure he can’t see the toy. “Don’t worry, it’s not too big. But I think you’ll like it.” After covering the plug in a generous amount of oil, I insert it carefully, making sure it doesn’t rub him the wrong way. It’s quite obvious when it reaches its perfect position, Liam letting out another shout as it presses against his prostate.

“Oh, shit,” he groans. I watch with a satisfied smirk as his muscles clench and unclench around the toy on reflex, making it press against that spot again and again. “Shit! Ahh. Xaden!”

Smiling another crooked smile, I lean over him. “Yes? Is there something you want to tell me?”

His eyes roll back into the back of his head, his hips unable to stay still. “Y-yeah. I… I need to… need to come. Oh, please!”

I click my tongue. “Oh, please,” I repeat his words, though with an entirely different meaning. “We barely got started. But you did well so far, so I’ll grant you another small reward.”

With another deep groan, he watches as I retreat back between his legs and lay down on my stomach, propped up on my elbows. “Your cock got criminally neglected until now, didn’t it? How about we rectify that, mh?”

Liam’s eyes are wide as saucers as I lean in to brush a kiss against his balls. “Oh, shit,” he mewls but keeps staying still for me.

“Such a good boy,” I groan, running my lips up along the underside of his length. “So patient for me.” I take his tip into my mouth, flicking my tongue against the tip and humming at his taste. “Now, hold still while I give you your reward.” And with those words, I start sucking him for real.

Liam howls but manages to hold himself still, even though his entire body is shaking as I wrap one hand around his base, then move my mouth up and down his tip in measured but intense motions. I let my tongue glide along his sensitive underside, sucking his tip on the way out before letting him slide right back in.

I love doing this, actually. The amount of pleasure I can bring to a partner with just these simple motions. The amount of power I have over them. With a sense of inner satisfaction, I listen to Liam, to the increasing degree of desperate need in his voice as I keep up the slow but intense pace.

I could easily make him come like this, I know that all too well. If I go a little faster, suck a bit harder, then I can push him over the edge in no time at all and, knowing Liam, could probably do it again after only a short break. But that’s not the plan for tonight, not what we talked about and he agreed to. So I continue with the slow build-up, moving even slower still when he’s nearing the edge after all.

“Ah, shit. Shit!” Liam howls, and I have to use all my strength to keep his hips from bucking up into my throat, from mindlessly taking what’s dangling right in front of him. “I’m so close, please. Just, please, Xaden. I— fuckshitshit!— I’m gonna… gonna…”

I pull away from his cock completely.

“N-NO!” Liam cries out. “Oh, please. Xaden!”

But I just cluck my tongue. “Not yet, handsome. You’ll come on my cock, and only on my cock, and not until I allow you to.”

Keening, Liam writhes on the bed, still holding on to the bars above his head but otherwise seeking friction against the sheets in every way he can without going directly against my orders. It’s an amazing sight, but… I still have to make sure.

I walk around the bed and sit down on the edge near his head. Leaning over him, I brush a soothing kiss against his forehead. “Liam?” I ask, my voice softer, falling out of my role for a bit. “Are you alright? Do you need your safe word? It’s okay if you do. We’ll stop and you can get relief right away.”

Liam’s breathing quickens. His arms above his head are shaking, his grip on the bars so tight his knuckles stand out white, his muscles visibly strained beneath his skin, all the way down to his pecks, his abdomen.

“N-no,” he gasps after a short pause. “I… I can keep going. I want to keep going.” His eyes flutter open, and the look in his eyes hits me somewhere deep within my chest. So full of warmth, of trust, of—

Without thinking about it, I kiss him. There’s a jumble of emotions in my heart, one I’m not in a position to examine right now, so I pour it all into this kiss, into the way our lips move together, tongues entangling, my hands cupping his face gently.

When I pull back, I’m calmer again, fully in control. “Very good.” I settle more firmly on the bed beside him. “When I tell you to, you’ll be allowed to let go of those bars now. But you won’t touch yourself, understood? And you won’t seek friction against the sheets or any other way, either. You won’t come until I tell you to.”

Liam nods, almost frantically. “Yes. I understand.”

A cool smile tugs on my lips. “To make it easier, I have a gift for you.” I lift a hand and a tendril of shadows rises from the bed. It wraps itself around the base of Liam’s cock and his balls, forming tight rings around his heated flesh. “There we go. Now, you won’t come as easily. Wouldn’t want you to disobey me by accident, would you?”

Again, Liam groans, his hips flexing. “N-no, I wouldn’t. Tha-thank you.”

Heat flares in my groin and I have to bite on my cheek, hard, to keep from reacting to his words. Fuck, he’s playing the game well.

“Right. You may let go of the bars now. But remember your orders; no touching.”

With a sigh, Liam pulls his arms back down, and I give him a moment to relax his shoulders, settling more comfortably against the headboard as I watch him. He behaves himself, his hands not even twitching down to stroke his aching cock.

“After I was so good to you,” I say when he throws me an expectant look. “You may now return the favour.” I nod down at my crotch. “Unlace my leathers, then you may worship my cock. Make it ready for when I take you and make you scream.”

I smirk at how quickly Liam scrambles to get between my legs, his fingers trembling as he unlaces me. Once my cock springs free, having been hard for nearly the entire session, I can’t suppress the groan coming from deep within my chest. My head falls back against the wood and my hands move directly into Liam’s hair the moment he lowers his head between my thighs. Not to guide or even force his movements, but simply to hold him, to give both of us this sense of connection.

“Keep your ass up, your knees spread,” I groan around him covering my cock in kisses and licks. “Wouldn’t want you to rut into the sheets like an inexperienced youth.” He snorts, and I grin.

Liam’s mouth is amazing. He’s sloppy, messy, drool dripping down his chin and covering my cock in no time, and I hum, fingers flexing against his scalp. He’s so good at this, his tongue flickering around my tip, along my frenulum, cheeks hollowing when he takes me so deep he nearly chokes.

I can feel the first tendrils of my orgasm reaching out for me, but I’m well-versed at ignoring them by now and simply relax into enjoying the moment. The moment that stretches out into minutes, a small eternity of tense bliss as Liam’s hot mouth spoils my cock, his entire body moving with the action. He can’t help it, not with the toy in his ass constantly nudging against his prostate, keeping him on the edge. His never-ending moans around my cock are a welcome addition, too, and I don’t hold back my groans, either, letting him know just how good he makes me feel.

Fuck, I could spend hours like this. Just me settled comfortably with him lavishing my cock, all while knowing that every roll of his hips shoots another flash of pleasure through him. That every moan vibrating around my length is him trying to cope with the desire taking over his mind. It’s perfect.

Eventually though, Liam’s sounds become more urgent, his movements broader, harsher. He even goes so far that he tries to force more of my cock down his throat than he can take, his entire body convulsing as he gags and chokes, still trying to take even more. It’s his desperate need that becomes obvious again, even this distraction not enough anymore.

“Stop,” I order, using my fingers in his hair to push him off my cock.

Breathing harshly, Liam sinks back to sit on his haunches, yet keeps fidgeting, moving his hips this way and that. Moving the toy inside him for more stimulation.

With a smirk playing around my lips, I push myself up until I kneel right in front of him. “Look at you,” I purr, my hands around his face pulling him up onto his knees until our bodies are flush. “Such a poor needy thing you are.” I cant my hips, my cock brushing against Liam’s, and he nearly convulses. “How about we put you out of your misery now, mh?”

“Yes!” Liam gasps, visibly forcing himself to keep it together as the plug pushes against him harder in this position. “Yes, please. Please!”

Smiling, I brush a thumb over his lower lip. “Then lie back down on your back for me.”

I resume my former position between Liam’s legs, knees bent for better access. His cock is leaking constantly now, making a mess of him and the bed cover alike. “Poor thing, indeed,” I coo, reaching for the plug. I press against its base to push it in a tiny bit deeper, drawing a beautiful strangled cry from Liam’s throat. “You must be so desperate.”

“Yes. Yes, I am. Please!” Liam nods frantically, his hands scrambling across the smooth coverlet in search of something to hold on to.

“You may clutch at the covers. Or, if they’re too slippery, you could grab the bars again, if you want to,” I say, casually, and heat flares in my chest, my eyes, as he indeed reaches for the bars above his head again, voluntarily restraining himself. Oh, playing with him in the future is going to be so much fun, in case he lets me.

“I’ll take out the plug now. Brace yourself, but stay relaxed.”

Liam takes a deep breath and nods, forcing his body to go limb. Or, as limb as he can at this point, at least. With one hand on his thigh for comfort, I take hold of the toy’s base and pull, slowly. I don’t remove it in one go, both not to jar him too much and to keep teasing him. So I move it out and then in a bit again, gradually pulling it out.

Liam is anything but quiet during the whole process, howling and keening, his head moving this way and that. His arms are shaking again with how tightly he holds on to the bars, but to his credit, he manages to keep the tension there, his lower half still pliant beneath my hands.

“You’re doing so good,” I groan. “Now, I only need to stretch you a bit more, prepare you to take me. You’ll be good, right? You won’t come, will you?”

Liam moans, his hips twitching. “I won’t come,” he gasps. “I promise.”

“Good boy,” I smirk.

Then I wrap my hand around his cock, one oiled finger easily sliding into him, and he howls. I need all my strength to keep him from bucking up into my hand, half leaning on him until the initial outburst is over. “Hush. I know it’s intense, but you can take it.”

Holding still, I wait until his harsh breathing turns a bit calmer again, his body loosening its vice grip around my finger. “Okay,” he rasps. “I… I’m good.”

I merely hum in response before I move my hands again. I start slowly, simple, moving in and out of him as my other hand lazily strokes his cock. It draws another deep groan from Liam, but once he adapts to that, I add a second finger. I push in a little deeper, go a tiny bit faster. His insides squeeze around my fingers, and I moan as I imagine how he’ll feel around my cock. But not yet, I remind myself. I’m not quite done with him.

I speed up further, my fingers inside him as well as my fist around his cock. I push deeper, squeeze harder, add a third and then a fourth finger. Liam is a spectacle beneath me, howling, shouting, keening, writhing atop the covers as he tries—and regularly fails—to keep from fucking himself onto my hands. I don’t say anything, just watch with avid attention, taking in every glorious detail. How the sweat glistens on his contracting abdomen, how his cock is completely slick with his own pre-come at this point, how his hands are still holding on to those bars as if they’re the only thing that’s keeping him sane.

If it weren’t for the tight rings of shadow around his cock and balls, I know Liam would have come by now, no matter how hard he tries not to. I know his buttons too well for that. But even with the rings, he’s getting closer now, all but sobbing as he fights to hold back, garbled begging in between incoherent noises. Licking my lips, I push even harder, twisting my hand around his head in the way I know could break him. At this point, Liam could come easily, all he’d have to do is stop fighting it. And yet, he holds on, body so tense he might snap as I keep going, crooking my fingers inside him to find that bundle of nerves until—

Right before Liam breaks, I stop.

My hands still, and I let the rush of emotions wash through me, a mix of arousal, power, and gratification nearly as intense as an orgasm, as Liam cries out, though whether it’s with grateful relief or desperate need I can’t tell. I don’t think he can, either.

I pull my hands away from him, letting them slide down his thighs in the process. “Oh, sh-shit,” he whimpers, his eyes rolling unfocused as he tries to look at me. “Ple-please, Xaden. I…” He hisses, his body twitching with unresolved tension.

“Yes, it’s time. “ I get off the bed and quickly take off my clothes, then lean over him. “You kept your promise,” I whisper into his ear. “Now, I’ll keep mine.”

I give myself a few strokes to make sure I’m hard and spread more oil over my shaft as I resume my position between his thighs. Reaching for his knees, I lift one leg over my shoulder, the other loosely wrapped around my hip to get him into the perfect position. Liam won’t be able to move like this, balanced only on his shoulders and arms, his hands still clutching at the bars, won’t have any leverage, but that’s the point.

“Are you ready?” I ask, my tip teasingly bumping against his loosened hole but not quite breaching him yet. Every contact makes the coil in my guts tighten further from where it’s been building all night, but I keep ignoring it. This is not about me; only about Liam.

Liam, despite the exposed and powerless position he’s in, tries to roll his hips against me, to coax me into finally penetrating him. “Yes,” he mewls, his cock still dripping from where it hangs over his chest now. “Yes, I’m ready. So ready. Xaden, please.”

Smirking, I rest my cock more firmly against his hole. Hearing him beg, it’s like sweet music to my ears, and I have half a mind to keep teasing him, just a tiny bit longer. But I don’t think either of us could take it.

With one hand on his hips and the other holding his thigh, I push into him in one long, slow slide. “Fuck, you feel so good,” I groan, unable to help myself. Gods, I’ve missed this.

“C-could say the same,” Liam gasps, clenching so tightly around me that I think I might come just from this alone.

I give myself a moment to enjoy this, having Liam around my cock, so hot and tight, yet velvety soft and… and just… Liam. It’s better than I remember, more than I ever dared hope for.

But this is not the right moment to relish in this development.

“Xaden, please…” Liam’s voice is strained, and he again tries to roll his hips, to get me going.

Giving in to the inevitable, I smile and tighten my hold on him. “Yes,” I breathe and start moving.

I start with a couple of slow strokes, sliding in and out to get accustomed to the intense sensation. But then, I quickly pick up the pace. Neither of us needs a slow build-up tonight. It takes a while, since I’m focused on simply fucking into him, on the feeling of him around me and on his beautiful sounds, but eventually, I get the right angle, find what I’ve been looking for.

“Ahh, shit!” Liam howls as I hit his prostate again. “Shitshitshit!”

I bare my teeth in a harsh grin and ramp up my movements, thrusting my hips forward to pound against it, hard. Liam loses all semblance of coherence, his eyes rolling back into his head, and he cries out every time my balls slap against this ass. His cock is drooling, a small puddle of pre already gathering right above his navel. Fuck, if this isn’t a sight to remember I don’t know what it.

At this point, I’m fighting my own orgasm just as hard as I try to keep him on the edge with me. I want to make this last. But I know I can’t stretch it out forever.

“Get ready for it,” I snarl through gritted teeth and reach for his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts. Liam’s cries become louder still, shriller, his insides turning tighter, like an iron vice around my cock. “Fuck, yes!” My grip around his cock tightens, too, jerking him off as I let the rings dissolve back into shadows. “Come for me.”

And he does. With a hoarse scream, Liam succumbs to the pleasure consuming him, his cock erupting all over his chest, his abdomen, my hand. His inner muscles clench around me with every spurt of come, and I fight to hold out a bit longer, to ride him through his climax. Fuck, he’s an amazing sight, eyes screwed shut and mouth open wide, his arms and shoulder trembling from how tight he still grips the bars while his lower body, covered in white stripes of his own spent, twitches and spasms with the pleasure rolling through him.

I can’t hold back any longer. When I feel the intensity of his orgasm lighten, I stop holding myself back, thrusting a couple more times with raw strength, then press in deeply. “Fuck, yes! Liam!” I shout as the coil in my guts snaps and I shoot my load deep into Liam’s body.

“Aaahhhhsshit, fuck, shit, SHIT!” Liam curses, growing tight once again, and I watch in awe as he comes a second time within seconds. A raw scream echos through my room as he arches off the bed and nearly slips from my hold with how his entire body spasms under the renewed pleasure, wrecking him completely. I knew he generally doesn’t need much time to recover, but… damn.

Once it’s over, I guide his legs back down onto the bed and slip out of him. Liam whimpers at the loss but otherwise doesn’t react, his eyes dazed as he gazes at the ceiling, his body limp, unmoving. Keeping one hand on his skin at all times for comfort, I reach for one of the small towels I have stored in my bedside table and clean him and my hand of the worst of the mess, the motions all but automatic.

I can’t take my eyes off Liam, too stunned by what just happened. But I know I need to snap out of it. Liam needs me now, there’s time to work through this later.

So I lean over him and brush a light kiss against his brow. “Can you turn over for me, Liam?” His only answer is a weak moan, but he lifts an arm so I take it as a yes. I help him turn onto his front then straddle the small of his back and start massaging the tension out of his shoulders. With how tightly he held on to the bars, it’s no surprise how cramped and tense they are, and I focus on kneading each area individually, taking my time.

After several long minutes, Liam’s moans turn into halfway coherent words as the pain eases and he slowly comes to again. “Ah, that’s good. Yes, right there. Mnnghh…”

“Back among the living?” I tease, working out a particularly persistent knot.

Liam snorts. “Not so sure about that. Shit, that was…. well, that was something else.”

Biting my lower lip, I fight down my nervousness. “Still good, I hope?”

Huffing out a laugh, Liam turns his head to at least somewhat look at me. “I don’t think good covers it. That was… that was just…” He shakes his head, lips moving but not finding the right word. “Guess you didn’t promise too much, after all.”

“So… you’re not feeling intimidated anymore?” I ask, smiling as I finish massaging him and move to lie on my side next to him.

With a deep satisfied groan, Liam rolls his shoulders, then turns to lounge across from me. “Hell, yes, I am. But…” He runs his tongue across his lower lip, thinking. “But in a good way? This was… intense. Amazing. But I don’t think I could…” He trails off, shrugging.

“…do this every night?” I suggest, having a déjà vu, and he nods. “That's fine. I’m already happy when you’re considering ever doing something like this again.”

“Definitely!” Liam smiles, then yawns, his eyes drooping.

“Good. Because I have ideas,” I smirk. “But we can talk about those another day. Now, you should sleep.

Liam groans, a grimace on his face. “Yeah. Too bad my bed’s so far away.”

He peaks at me with only one eye open, and I snort at the blatant question on his face. “Of course, you can stay here. Just let me remove the coverlet, and then you can make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks.” He manages to stand just long enough for me to remove the stained bedspread, then slumps down onto the mattress again. I can practically watch him fall asleep within seconds, and a soft smile spreads across my face, warmth in my chest.

Violet was right, I didn’t need to fear losing him. Shaking my head at myself, I clean up the remnants of our escapade, pondering. I thought Basgiath would be hell, three years of practically being at war with everyone around me. I didn’t expect to find happiness here, with Sgaeyl and the friends I made, Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen. But most of all, I didn’t expect to find something more, not here and not ever in my life. And yet, Violet found me. Violet who loves me despite all the secrets I could only gradually reveal to her and who I fell in love with when I thought I could never feel like this again.

And now, Liam is back in my life as well. Liam, who…

I swallow. I’m not in the right mindset to examine my feelings there, not yet.

Forcing my mind to grow quiet, I curl up on my bed next to Liam, letting his even breathing soothe me until I fall asleep as well.

. o O o .

I wake to someone nudging me, and on reflex, I wave my hand around to shoo whoever it is off. There’s a giggling in my mind, and slowly, it dawns on me that the nudge that woke me wasn’t physical.

“Seems like you had an exhausting night,” Violet’s cheery voice echoes in my mind. “When you’re still this sleepy now.”

Smiling, I glance over to the other side of the bed. “Yeah, I can’t complain.” I send her a mental image, nothing but Liam’s blond spikes and his naked shoulders visible above the sheets.

Violet chuckles. “Looks like it. But you’re good?” Her voice sounds apprehensive now, careful. She knows how much Liam means to me, after all.

“Year, we’re good,” I sigh. “He… took it better than I hoped for.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

Another smile tugs at my lips, and I can’t help but send all my feelings for her through our bond, all my love for this woman who doesn’t mind sharing my heart with someone else after I told her it’d be all hers.

Her answer is like a tender caress against my soul, warm, soft, soothing. I wish I could hold on to that feeling and keep it with me all day.

“I have to go now, Imogen is getting impatient. Tell Liam I said hi.”

Snorting, I shake my head. “Safe journey.”

“Was that Violet?”

I jump at Liam’s sleepy voice, but when I glance at him, he’s watching me with clear eyes. “Yeah,” I admit. “How do you know?”

Liam snorts. “I’ve spent months now watching you two. It’s not hard to guess that you found some way of communicating that goes past everyone else, and I’ve also learned the difference in your expressions from when you talk to your dragons or each other. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

My lips twitch. “Fair point. She wanted me to tell you she said hi.”

Liam blinks, then swallows. “This… really isn’t awkward for you at all?” He averts his eyes. “Me being…”

I shrug. “Not unless you make it awkward. I told you, we want you to be a part of this us.”

“So….” Liam drawls. “If I were to kiss her right in front of everyone in the dining hall…?”

I huff a laugh. “Then Aetos is probably going to have a heart attack. So I’d say go for it.”

. o O o .

AN: Now, if that wasn't convincing. 😏

I'm slowly running out of prewritten shorts. There's one (almost) finished for the 21st, and I hope I can get one or two more finished in time after that. But the rest will probably come at a later time since my fandom bestie is coming to visit me for a few days, and I'll be too busy to write while she's here. 😁

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

I am but a street artist, offering my art to those around me. If you enjoyed it, a tip in the form of a comment and a ❤️would be highly appreciated. 😊 

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[gccdstories]

Syrena shook her head, watching her younger siblings run around the Yuletree in the square. She sipped at her warmed muled wine.

She smiled down at Orion, running her fingers through her hair.

"You look tired Hunt. You want Mama?"

Orion nodded, clutching at her skirts. She looked to see Ravenar, her cheeks growing warm. She held her glass out to him.

"Your family outdid themselves with Solstice this year Ravenar. Do you mind holding my drink? I'm going to get Orion to my Ma. I think he's getting tired."

He watched her, watched their siblings in the square. Laughter echoed, cries of joy. Of happiness. Smiles adorned faces, and there was not even the slightest hint of grief or heartbreak or loss hanging over any of them. Not right now.

Especially not the young ones, as they played together as if not a single care of this world would ever enter their minds.

Ravenar smiled fondly, as his gaze soon drifted from those in the square back to Syrena, her hand extending the drink to him. He took it, glancing down at Orion at her side. Small (and obviously very tired, even if he was trying his best not to show it), the young male's fingers curled into the fabric of his sister's clothes, like it might very well be all that was keeping him standing as his eyes grew heavier.

Nodding, he set his own glass down, putting hers beside his. ❝ I'll keep an eye on the others; I think your mother's inside. ❞ It was still early, considering, but for a little one like Orion, it was indeed quite late.

@siderealxmelody

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[jango-fettish]

The Ruler and the Killer (Syrena Aster x Sunburst Squadron)

Rating: R or M (I don’t know, yo)

Word Count: 7,376

Warnings: DEATH (there is character death in this you have been warned), canonical-type violence, cursing, the Heretics are meanie butt heads with meanie butt head rules, brief mention of a blowjob (im proud, i only used cock in this once), my possible typos and grammatical errors (please let me know if i should warn about anything else!!!)

A/N: Thanks to @jangofctts​​ again for creating the Sunburst Squadron and letting me use them. And thank you for letting me kILL MAX. Also, thank you to @weebblossom​ for letting me steal your Heretic personality for Fenn. 

Someone once told Syrena, when she was a young girl still surrounded by the loving embrace of her mother, that a person can be brought back to life just by remembering them. If that were true, Syrena had a long list of names she’d like to bring back. Most with a black check next to their name: the people she wanted to bring back just to kill all over again. People who deserved to die for a second time, like her mother who once held her so tightly to her chest and promised to love her till the end of time. 

But there were a few she would bring back because, truthfully, they did not deserve to die. She shouldn’t have killed them and she would do anything to turn back the hands of time to fix her mistake...her error that resulted in the blood of an innocent spilled on her behalf. But like Death, Time was a fickle friend to Syrena and once something is done, there wasn’t enough money or praying in the world that she could do to change it. 

Syrena frowned to herself, a dark unsettling feeling sinking in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of feeling someone wouldn’t want before they were about to commit a crime against the Republic. She’d had it once before, when she took her first solo job after her training finished. She had just turned sixteen. Three innocent people died that day, three names added to her list that she would bring back. Syrena looked around the ship, wondering if the others had the same feeling, but they were all preoccupied with checking their weapons on last time. 

“What’s on your mind?” a sweet voice said, tearing Syrena away from her thoughts. 

She looked up to see Nettie, a plucky Rodian that had a knack for getting too involved in other people’s business. Syrena supposed it fit: Nettie was a hacker, a damn good one too, so of course she would try to get as much information out of a person as possible as she did with a computer. Nettie’s bulbous black eyes stared down at Syrena, trying to silently unlock the secrets she held. They looked as if starlight was streaking through them. It made Syrena uncomfortable and only added to the unsettling feeling in her stomach, making it expand upward and try to claw its way out her throat. 

Syrena had known Nettie for some time now, probably the most out of anyone on their four person team. They had been roommates during the beginning years of training, spending nearly six year stuck in the same small room together and trying to survive. Nettie was sweet and soft, everything a Heretic wasn’t supposed to be. They spent years whispering secrets and crying to one another, only letting the other person in. They were each other’s rock during those six years. The only reason why they went their separate ways was because they had to choose their speciality, to continue their training and become the deadly weapons the Heretics were known throughout the galaxy as. The Rodian chose technology and hacking, while Syrena stuck with combat and weaponry. 

“All this trouble just for some information,” Syrena said, rubbing the palms of her hands on her thighs. The ship they were on lurched to the left again, the various weapons hanging from the walls clinging together. “Seems a little overkill to have four people for this.”

It was rare for there to be a mission that required more than just two Heretics. And even then, one was usually good enough. But for this specific mission, there were two teams of four. They didn’t even know what information they were after. 

“Get in, get the information, get out. Kill anyone that gets in your way, if necessary,” the Creator had told them when giving the assignment. The Creator wanted everything, so they would get everything. The other team would take care of the distraction. 

“Knowing your enemy from the inside out is the only true way of instilling fear,” Nettie said, slowly sliding into the open seat next to Syrena. 

Syrena recoiled at her words, “Since when was the Republic our enemy? We haven’t chosen a side in over a millenia.”

“Perhaps our current Creator wishes to change that,” the Rodian pondered. 

“‘Bout time, if you ask me,” another voice said, cutting through their conversation. The melodic tone clashed with Syrena’s patience like loud cymbals being beaten together over and over again. “The Republic has been taking advantage of the Heretics for decades now. Glad we finally have someone in charge that has a clear vision of what we should have always been.”

“Oh, piss off back to Dothomir, Fenn,” Syrena said, rolling her eyes. She leaned back and shut her eyes, barely catching the snarl form on the Zabraks face. “The Heretics shouldn’t take sides. We’re nothing more than the shadows that charge the wealthy bastards of the galaxy a bit too much to do their dirty work.” 

“Rich coming from you, snake,” Fenn hissed, stepping closer to Syrena. 

“You got something to say, Pointy? Say it.” Syrena’s eyes were still closed, but she could feel the heat and rage radiating off of the Zabrak. 

“You’re fucking a clone. We all know it.”

Syrena’s eyes shot open into a glare, “Who I’m fucking isn’t anyone’s business, especially yours.” 

“If it clouds your piss poor judgement on a job, then yeah it is my business.”

There was a shock of electricity throughout the cabin of the ship. In an instant, Syrena was on her feet, the blade she kept hidden in her wrist vambrace shot out and pressed against the Zabrak’s neck. Fenn, for all of her faults, was just as quick as Syrena. Her own vibroblade was pointing upwards against Syrena’s stomach. One movement from either of them would result in a painful and bloody death. They were snarling at each other, animalistic noises coming from their throats. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Alyze said.

Alyze was one of the oldest Heretics. They were well respected in the community and had a favorable opinion with the Republic after helping to train the clone ARC Troopers at the beginning of the war. It was a well paying gig, one any Heretic would jump to take. But Alyze was the best choice for the job. 

Syrena and Fenn continued glaring at each other. Syrena pressed the knife harder onto Fenn’s skin, satisfied when the Zabrak winced at the sting of the freshly sharpened blade. Alyze finally stepped close to the two, wanting the situation to diffuse. If Alyze was in a worse mood, they would have physically stopped the encounter, but their thoughts and care were focused on the mission. 

“I said enough,” Alyze barked, their irritation with the two smaller women growing, “We’re almost at the drop location. Get your heads out of your asses and get ready for deployment.”

Fenn hissed at Syrena before drawing her vibroblade away. Syrena could only laugh to herself as she retracted her blade. It slowly slid back into its secret compartment.  

“Unless your mouth is the one on my pussy, shut the fuck up about who I’m sleeping with, got it?” Syrena warned. Fenn went back to her seat, keeping her glare on Syrena. 

Syrena approached Nettie again, holding onto one of the overhanging bars. The closer the ship got to the drop point, the bumpier it became. 

“Fenn has a point you know,” Nettie said, looking up at Syrena. “Your infatuation with the clone could be detrimental to this and future missions. I give it a 88% chance of failing and resulting in the death of the clone or yourself.”

“Nettie, can you just,” Syrena sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “just not be a know-it-all right now.”

“Interesting, though, how they are allowing this relationship to continue.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“The powers that be. The Creator. Myrkos.” Syrena frowned at the mention of her old Master. “They stopped Alyze’s relationship with that Jedi on Kamino before it became....a hindrance to the Creator’s objective.”

“Well clearly they don’t think that this is anything more than me screwing around.”

“For now,” Nettie said, her voice sounding far away. “Though, you have been put in their favor since you provided the intel on when the troopers change their shifts, giving us the perfect opportunity to drop in. Does your clone know that you used him for information? Is that the type of bedroom talk you can get out of him? Impressive.”

“Nettie, just...just shut up, please.”  

“My apologies, no harm intended,” Nettie said with a smile. 

She was beginning to make Syrena feel uneasy, and rather guilty. She had gotten the information out of Bruiser during one of their more...intimate encounters, but he didn’t have to spill the beans. It was his choice to tell her, his choice to trust her even though she had warned him not to.

“Syrena,” Nettie began again, “I don’t know what gods you pray to or if you even believe in any. But you better hope that they are on your side. Who knows exactly what would happen should you lose favor with them. Or worse, lose favor with the Creator.” 

“Let’s go,” Alyze interjected before Syrena could fully process what Nettie had said, “we’re at the drop zone.”

Getting into the Republic military outpost on Coruscant was easy, especially with the knowledge Syrena had provided regarding trooper shift changes. In the end, it was an easy drop, with a quick landing on the roof before the four of them got in through the ventilation system. Surely by now the Republic would learn to get smaller vents. 

“It changes all the time,” Bruiser had said to her in confidence, his words breathy as her tongue swirled around the head of his flushed leaking cock. “Never know until, oh kriff, never know until we’re called.”

She only hoped that they weren’t stationed there today. She usually warned Bruiser if she was involved in any unsavory Heretic business. Though it was typically only a, ‘Hey I’m arriving in like five minutes to fuck shit up, see you then,’ type of warning. But five minutes was better than nothing. 

“Syrena,” Alyze harshly whispered, pulling her out of her memories, “Get your head in the fucking mission.” 

“Sorry,” Syrena mumbled, checking the hallway for the third time to see if anyone was coming. 

They just needed to clear one more hallway before they made it to the main room containing anything and everything regarding the Republic’s Military Intelligence. Just two more blast doors and then the easy part would come. Nettie was ready, her gear already hooked into the security system and working on encoding the firewalls. 

“Their systems are as protected as this building,” Nettie scoffed sarcastically. “Ray shields are down, we can proceed.” 

“Good, let's get this shit over with,” Fenn said, walking down the hallway with her blaster drawn.

Alyze and Nettie trailed behind her, their own weapons at the ready. Syrena, however, looked back the way they came, the unsettling feeling rising once again. She could feel the Force stirring ominously, hear the way the electricity cackled throughout the walls. Something was terribly wrong, but Syrena had no idea what it was or if she could do anything about it. 

“Syrena,” Nettie said. Syrena turned, almost slamming straight into the Rodian, “Let’s go.” 

Syrena nodded shortly, following the shorter woman carefully down the hallway. Her nerves were on high alert and she couldn’t read the energy in the Force anymore. 

They got into the room quickly, Nettie making her way to the main computer to set up her gear. 

“Syrena, you stay here with Nettie, make sure everything goes alright. Fenn and I will scout the hallways,” Alyze ordered before looking at the spunky Zabrak, “We’re here to incapacitate only. I don’t care what the Creator said, I don’t want any unnecessary deaths.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Fenn whined, “If you ask me, the only good clone is a dead one.” 

“It’s a good thing no one asked you,” Alyze snapped before looking to Syrena, “Lock the doors behind us.” 

Syrena nodded, sending a seething glare towards Fenn. She truly would not care if something happened to Fenn during this mission. If she had the opportunity to, Syrena was sure she would just step to the side and let blaster fire turn the Zabrak to dust.

She watched as Fenn stalked back into the hallway, putting her brass knuckles on. Syrena had been on the receiving end of one of Fenn’s beat downs. She knew the power and aggression behind Fenn’s hits and only hoped that whoever would be receiving them today truly deserved it. Alyze grabbed Syrena by the arm, pulling her close to their side. 

“You need to promise me something,” they said, their dark box braids brushing against Syrena’s forearm, “I need you to be one of us if your clone and his friends are the ones here. I need you to remember who you are.” 

Syrena looked up at Alyze, their dark eyes boring into her own pink ones, “You ever regret it? Letting them determine who you could be with or love, like a good little Heretic?” 

Syrena’s words cut through the air, her accusatory tone causing Alyze to recoil. They dropped Syrena’s arm, “You’re the reason why we are here, Syrena. Don’t forget that.” 

Syrena watched Alyze follow Fenn out the door, a small twinge of regret surging through her bones before she shut and locked the blast doors. 

******

“How long until we are back online?” Commander Fox asked into his commlink, his station in a frenzy since they were locked out of the security system. He had taken a small group of troopers, along with Commander Blanche and most of the Sunburst Squadron, to go hall by hall, looking for the intruders. Two of the members were needed elsewhere. 

“Won’t know for awhile, sir,” the trooper on the other end responded. “We keep coming across more and more viruses.”

“Can you tell me anything?” Fox asked exasperated. 

“Got a good photo of the perps. It’s ‘bout 20 minutes old, can’t confirm where inside they are. Forwarding to you now, sir.”

He looked back to Commander Blanche, signaling for him to come over. With a long stride, Blanche made his way to Fox, speaking once he got close enough, “I think it’s best if we split up, my squad will head to the east while yours goes west. Cover more ground that way.” 

“I agree,” Fox said with a nod. In an instant a hologram photo was pinged to his wrist link. “These are who we are dealing with. Their running facial recognition now.”

Blanche took a long look at the hologram, his face dropping into a frown as he recognized one of the faces, “Dank farrik, Heretics. We need more troopers.” 

“Well that explains the other attack,”Fox said to himself. “Working simultaneously.”

“Other attack?” Blanche asked.

“Another group of four, what I’m assuming now, Heretics bombed a hospital. Thorn has the rest of my men and the 104th to help with the wreckage. 212th are trying to track them down.” Fox looked back to his wrist link, the blue hued photo flickering as the communication systems surged. He had dealt with Heretics before, lost men to them. They were feral and unyielding beings with no clear allegiance, which made them even more dangerous. “You recognize any of them?” 

Blanche took a closer look at the hologram, his face dropping when he did recognize one of the small figures, “Syrena Aster. She’s, uh...helped us a few times, been against us more.” 

If that were only the case. Blanche took a quick peek back at the rest of his men, his eyes settling on Bruiser’s large form before looking back at the hologram. 

“Do you trust her?” 

“I trust her about as far as I can throw her, and even then she’d probably turn around and stab me,” Blanche scoffed. 

“Do any of your men trust her?” 

Blanche was silent at this. It wasn’t a secret that Bruiser had some sort of relationship with the Heretic. Blanche and the General had both warned him against it, but Syrena had the heavy infantry trooper wrapped around her finger. 

“We don’t know what they are after or who paid them to get it. I need to know if any of your men would hesitate at any moment with doing their job.” 

“They’ll do their jobs,” Blanche snapped. “It’ll be fine.” 

Fox paused for a moment before nodding curtly, “We’ll meet back here in 30 minutes if we don’t find anyone.” 

“Got it,” Blanche said.

“And Commander,” Fox said, dropping the informal nature of their conversation, “If they went to where I think they were going, we can’t let them get away with that information. Engage if your team finds them, kill ‘em if necessary.”

Blanche nodded again, his hands clenching and unclenching. He turned away, stalking back to his team. His mind was a mess. It just had to be her with them, couldn’t have been some faceless Heretic that they didn't know. But this was Syrena and although most of the squadron found her just tolerable, there were others that liked her, that needed her. 

“We know who we are dealing with, Blanchie?” Max asked. Just his soothing demeanor was enough to calm the Commander down. 

“She’s short, blonde, and green,” Blanche said, “and more annoying than a Gungan.” 

“Syrena’s not that annoying,” Max argued softly. Blanche could picture the smile on the sergeant’s face under the helmet. “Plus, she makes Bruiser happy.”

Blanche grimaced under his helmet, keeping a rather mean comment about how it was her mouth and cunt that made Bruiser happy, not Syrena herself. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

Max sighed. Maybe he was, but he’d rather believe that Syrena wasn’t as bad as everyone believed than condemn her to be just an evil seductress. He looked over to Bruiser, “You think he knows she’s here?” 

“No,” Blanche admitted, watching as Bruiser checked over his Z-6 rotary blaster cannon, “And let's keep it that way for now.”

Max nodded stiffly. He didn’t like keeping things from his team members, especially something like this. Blanche maybe didn’t see it, but Max had noticed the way Bruiser and Syrena were around each other. How they seemed to be each other’s center of gravity. He heard the noises coming from Bruiser’s room and the soft words they whispered to each other. He knew he wasn’t the only one that saw their searing looks and secretive touches. It was like they were making sure that the other was actually real, that they weren’t just some spectral being about to fade into the ether. 

The team moved out, Blanche only relaying that there were four possible perps: highly armed and highly dangerous. The hallways had been long abandoned, any officer or staff member told to evacuate the building when the alarms first went off. They went door to door, checking to see if anyone was hidden in the dark corners of unlit rooms. 

Blanche realized as they passed another empty set of rooms that they had transitioned into the Naval Intelligence headquarters and were approaching the main intelligence room. All of the GAR’s battle strategies, outpost locations, and other important information was stored there.

“I hear something,” Jaws said, positioning himself behind a large column. He signaled for the others to find cover. 

There was a large bang, like the sound of blast doors shut, followed by two bickering voices. 

“You egg her on anymore and I’ll let her kill you,” one said. 

“You would take that bitches side,” the other voice sneered, “You are both whores for Republic dogs.”

“Fenn,” the first voice dropped low and threatening, “if you speak to me that way again, I will tear your heart out of your chest and eat it before letting her finish you off.” 

The troopers were silent as the footsteps of the Heretic’s retreated down another hallway. 

“We need to get those blast doors open,” Blanche said. 

“I can shoot at it?” Bruiser suggested, lifting the blaster cannon up a little. 

Max shook his head, “Takes too long, buddy. I got some detonators, but I need to get closer.” 

“Alright,” Blanche said with a nod, “Sweets, Fuse, Blue, you three stay here and watch our backs. They might find a way to circle around. Bruiser, Max, Jaws, and I will approach the doors. Has anyone heard from Kami or Void?” 

“Kami said they shot down a ship that tried to escape to the lower levels, but can’t confirm who was in it or if it was even the one they were after,” Max said, “Void’s up in his arms in injuries.” 

“Alright, let’s make this quick so we can rendezvous with the General and others,” Blanche ordered, getting his blaster at the ready. He hoped it would be quick and simple. He hoped Syrena would see them and somehow convince her team to just back off and leave. 

But nothing was ever simple with Syrena.

The four of them slowly approached the blaster doors, their footsteps silent against the shiny floors, their warped reflections inching closer and closer to the intended target with each step. Blanche looked back for a moment, watching as Sweets, Fuse, and Blue’s figures got farther and farther away. The hallway seemed longer, more narrow, than it actually was. Blanche’s heart was racing, he could feel his hands and neck sweating the closer they got to the blast doors. 

“Fenn, You hear that?” a voice said. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere as the crisp sound echoed off the hallways. The four troopers quickly took cover behind columns and sections of the wall that jutted out.  

“No,” the second voice, Fenn, responded with a giggle, “but I can smell them. Looks like we’re going to have some fun after all, Alyze. Come out, come out wherever you are, boys. We just want to play.” 

Fenn’s voice was melodic and sweet, almost like she was singing to them. She was the one to fire first, sending a scalding red blaster shot where Jaws’s head had been seconds before. 

It happened all at once, blaster fire coming from both sides, igniting the hallway in angry flurries of red. It was so loud, so aggressive. The hallway flooded with smoke as the blaster fires sizzled and seared into the walls. 

“One coming from our end!” Blue called into the commlink. “I repeat, one coming from our end.” 

They had been able to find their way through the maze of hallways, with one Heretic approaching from the blast doors, while the other took charge from the other side. Though the Heretics were outmanned, their skills and ferocity made up for it. 

Blanche heard a strangled cry before Blue’s voice echoed through the comms again, “Sweet’s been hit. He’s alright, just a shot to the shoulder. Can’t see the perp though.” 

“Stop hiding!” Fenn’s teasing voice echoed above the blaster shots, “I want to play!” 

Blanche turned to Max, “Are we close enough?” 

Max peaked over the side of the wall, a blaster shot narrowly missing his head. It singed the cheek of his helmet, leaving behind a blackened streak of soot, “I can’t tell. Might get the door, might miss it. It’ll be a good distraction though.” 

Blanche thought for a moment. They hadn’t seen or heard from Syrena. She was either inside of the room or Blanche had  misidentified the person in the holophoto. He secretly hoped for the latter. 

“Do it,” he ordered Max, “Get that kriffing door open.”

Max nodded, reaching to his side and taking out two thermal detonators. One was bound to hit the door, right? He pressed the bottoms on the top, making sure the red light was blinking before he crouched down. He swung his arm back, ready to release the detonators before Bruiser’s voice on the other side of the hallway made him hesitate. 

“Syrena?” Bruiser called. He ceased fire as he saw Syrena appear from behind the blast doors. 

“Wait, wait! Max, wait!” Blanche hurriedly said, looking down at Max. 

But, it was too late. 

The sudden change in order didn’t catch up fast enough with Max’s hand and one of the detonators was released, rolling down the hallway. He quickly shut off the other, the red light disappearing as it powered down. He let it drop to the ground in a thud. But the other one continued to make its way down the hallway right towards Syrena.

Max and Blanche both looked at each other, before looking back at the detonator. Max attempted to scramble forward to get it, but a blaster shot from Fenn forced him back. Blanche watched as Syrena’s face contorted from confusion to panic and she took in the scene before her. He realized she didn’t know they were the ones that would deal with the intruders.

She didn’t know. 

“Oh no,” Max and Blanche whispered at the same time, as Syrena’s expression changed again to horror as the detonator rolled past her foot and into the room.

****

Syrena watched as Nettie continued to shift her way through the Republic firewalls, installing virus after virus so that they wouldn’t be able to stop her, while she simultaneously scoured through the information. It was taking the Rodian longer than expected to get to everything and scramble it to her server the created just for this. The uploading process was the longest, having to go through multiple security systems in order to begin the upload. 

The two heard loud blaster shots coming from beyond the blast doors, ricocheting off of the thick metal with a booming twang. They had started only a minute ago, getting louder and louder as whoever was out there closed in. 

“How much longer?” Syrena asked, stepping behind Nettie and looking over her shoulder. She scrunched her nose, unable to read the various symbols and numbers that Nettie was typing. 

“This one file is giving me some issues,” Nettie said, her teeth gritting. “Go see if they need help.” 

“Alyze told me to stay with you,” Syrena argued. 

“I know what they said,” Nettie snapped. She clenched her fists once, taking a calming breathe, “Your energy is just too much for me to handle. Just go...I should be done any minute now.” 

Syrena bit her lip, leaning back up and stepping away from the workstation. Nettie’s shoulders seemed to relax as the shadow of nervous energy retreated with Syrena. 

Syrena clicked her wrist link, “What’s going on out there?” 

“We’re taking on heavy fire. Hurry up in there,” Alyze answered. 

“I’m opening the blast doors,” Syrena said. “Nettie’s almost done, we can hold up in here until she’s finished.” 

“That’s a negative,” Alyze growled, “Don’t open the doors. That’s an order.” 

“Oh, bite me,” Syrena quipped back. 

She walked to the blast door, clicking the controls for them to open. As they slowly began to unlatch, that unsettling feeling settled in Syrena again. It was painful and tight, slowly swirling through her chest and stomach all the way to her fingers and toes. The door continued to open and Syrena ducked to evade a stray blaster fire. 

“Syrena?” a familiar voice said, the booming sound muffled by the blaster fire. 

She looked up, recognizing the voice. Realization slowly melted into her bones as she watched Alyze and Fenn fire at the Sunburst Squadron. 

“Wait, wait!” a man hurriedly called out, “Max, wait!” 

Syrena watched as the clone sergeant rolled a circular thermal detonator towards the opening door. It was like time had turned to cooling lava, thick and heavy and moving slowly, and all she could do was watch. Her breath hitched in her throat as it rolled past her feet and towards where Nettie was seated. 

“Almost got it!” 

“Nettie, move!” 

Syrena and Nettie shouted at the same time, the Rodian not seeing the explosive stop just shy of her feet. Syrena began to rush forward, towards Nettie and the bomb. 

The explosive went off and Syrena was launched out of the room in a burst of smoke and flames. Her head slammed against the metal floor and she felt a sharp pain through her side. Syrena could only hear the yells and screams of everyone around her before she succumbed to the darkness. 

She woke up to Fenn screaming at someone to stay quiet, followed by a loud crunch. Her eyes shot open, realizing that they were back in the room her and Nettie had been in. Though, it looked nothing like the room anymore. It was like a bomb went off. Syrena slowly remembered that a bomb did go off. 

Her eyes followed a body sized streak of blood leading from the blast doors right to where she was located, propped up against a cabinet. She was sure she would have remembered being dragged back into the room, but everything was a blur since the explosion. Syrena tried to take a deep breath, tried to blink away the black spots that clouded the edges of her vision, but her lungs stung. She sputtered out a cough, phlegm and blood dripping onto her chin as she took in her surroundings. 

The tightness in her chest and burning in her lungs increased as she saw Nettie’s mangled and charred body lying peacefully on the ground. She was missing an arm and the lower half of her left leg. Syrena blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over as she was overcome with grief. She remembered letting Nettie expertly braid her hair when they were younger and the countless hours they spent consoling each other after a particularly rough day. She remembered her final goodbye as Nettie moved out of the tiny space they shared, the silent words of sisterly love and adoration for one another passed through the Force.  And now, nothing. Nothing in the Force was signaling to her that her fellow Heretic...her friend was alive. 

Syrena heard another one of Fenn’s engaged screams and she looked to the commotion. Alyze and Fenn, in their rage, had somehow managed to incapacitate every member of the Sunburst Squadron, bringing them to the center of the room and binding their hands together. Not all of them were awake and in her haziness, Syrena couldn’t tell who were the ones that were lying motionless on the ground.  She could see the rise and fall of their chests, soothing the panic that rose. They were all alive. 

But Nettie was dead.

“Syre, can you hear me? It’s Ja-”

“I said shut the fuck up!” Fenn screamed at the helmet clad trooper, her brass knuckle covered fist slamming to the side of his head. The plastoid cracked under her punch and his helmet was launched off his head. 

Jaws. 

“That’s enough,” Alyze said, cutting through Fenn’s rage. They were close to Syrena, hurriedly scouring through a medic bag. 

Fenn growled something incoherent as a response. She gripped the collar of Jaws’s chest plate, dragging him over with the rest of the members. She wrapped a piece of fabric around Jaws’s mouth, mumbling how tired she was of his pleas and sobs. 

As she blinked away the black spots, Syrena could make out the bruised and bloodied faces of those without helmets: Blanche, Max, Jaws, and Bruiser. Her heart clenched and she attempted to get up, but a sharp pain in her side stilled her movements.

Alyze bent down next to Syrena, grabbing the green woman’s face in their scarred hands, “How do you feel?” 

“I can’t,” Syrena coughed out, bile rising in her throat, “I can’t fucking breath.” 

She touched her chest and her stomach, her breath hitching once again when she felt a piece of smooth metal sticking out the side of her abdomen. She gripped the metal, yelling out in pain as it moved inside of her. 

“Syrena,” Bruiser called, trying to break free from the restraints. Fenn hit him across the face, telling him to be quiet. It only caused Syrena to move around more, wanting to wrap her hands around the Zabrak’s throat and squeeze until the bones cracked.

“Calm down” Alyze said softly, their larger hand wrapping around Syrena’s. 

“I have a fucking piece of metal sticking out of me, Alyze! I’m not going to be fucking calm,” Syrena growled, “Get this thing out of me so I can kill that bitch!”

“You always were so impatient.” Alyze rolled their eyes, “On the count of five, we’re going to take this out and then I’m going to stuff the wound with bacta and cover it. It’s not going to be pleasant.”

“You know what isn’t pleasant-” Syrena started, glaring at them. 

“Will you hurry it up already?” Fenn snapped, interrupting Syrena, “We don’t have the time to diddle daddle around.” 

Syrena took a deep breath in before looking at Alyze and nodding stiffly. 

“Okay...one, two three-” Alyze ripped the piece of metal from Syrena’s abdomen, a thick river of blood running out of the wound. 

“I thought you said on five!” Syrena snarled. She felt like her entire body was on fire as Alyze stuffed the wound with bacta. The pain was almost unbearable.

“You’ll live,” Alyze quipped. 

They put one large bacta patch on top, covering the rest of the wound. With careful hands, Alyze wrapped gauze around Syrena’s abdomen and stomach, tying the ends tightly. It was already stained on the edges with her blood, but it would keep her alive until they found a doctor. Alyze slowly helped Syrena up, allowing her to lean against the cabinet. She would need help to get back to the ship, further setting them back. But Alyze couldn’t lose another person.

All three of their wrist links beeped, causing the Heretics to look at the notification, though Syrena’s movements were lethargic and slow. Nettie had done it: the last of the information had been uploaded to their server. 

“Let’s go,” Alyze ordered, wrapping their arm around Syrena’s middle, “Leave them here.” 

Alyze began to take their first steps forward before Fenn’s growling voice stopped their movements.

“We can’t leave yet. We have rules for situations like this Alyze.”

Alyze shut their eyes tightly and cursed under their breath. They hoped that the surprise of the explosion and the news that they successfully completed their mission would be enough. But Fenn liked to follow the rules and was stubborn enough to risk them getting captured to see them through. 

Alyze gazed down at Syrena, expecting her to make some sort of sarcastic remark, but she was silent.  They had seen Syrena take worse hits and injuries. Kriff, Alyze had been the one doing the damage to the shorter woman a few times. But here, as she leaned against Alyze’s body, it looked like Syrena was about to fall to the ground dead. She wasn’t even looking at Fenn. Her pink serpent-like eyes were bleak and focused entirely on the clone troopers kneeling by Fenn’s feet. 

“This is the one that did it,” Fenn said, standing behind Max and pushing him forward. He fell hard onto his hands. 

“We don’t have time for this,” Alyze tried to argue. 

“Well, make time!” Fenn yelled, “Nettie is dead because of him. Syrena is injured. He needs to die.” 

Blanche, Bruiser, and Jaws all protested at once, Jaws’s voice muffled by the gag. 

“Please,” Blanche pleaded, his lip split and left eye swelling from Fenn’s beating, “Please, I’m the one that gave the orders. Leave him.”

“Blanche,” Max said softly. 

“No! Just-just shut up, Max.” Blanche looked to Alyze. “Take me instead.”

“We are not as lawless as you might believe, clone,” Alyze said, “We do follow a code. You may have said the orders, but your hand was not the one that released the detonator.” 

“I’ll do it,” Fenn said, taking her vibroblade out. 

“No.” Alyze looked from Max to Syrena. “Syrena has to be the one to do it.”

“What? No,” Bruiser said harshly, “No she isn’t doing anything. Syre...tell them you aren’t doing anything.” 

“You can’t be serious, Alyze,” Fenn scoffed, “She doesn’t have it in her. She’s grown soft. If anything, we should tell Myrkos when we get back and have her sent to the Pit or, better yet, decommissioned.” 

Syrena was still silent. Her gaze went from the Sunburst Squadron to Nettie’s body. She wished she had been quicker to realize what was happening, faster on her feet. She was a Heretic for crying out loud, she could have Force pushed Nettie out of the blast area. But she was too focused on the Sunburst Squadron, too focused on worrying about their safety. In that moment, she allowed them to make her forget who she was and it cost her friend her life. 

“She is the only survivor of the attack,” Alyze explained, “She knows the rules, a life for a life, and she will follow them.” 

“Syrena, please,” Blanche begged. 

“I’ll do it,” she whispered, her eyes tearing from Nettie to Max. All she could think of when she saw him was her failures. Her failure to keep Nettie alive and her failure to keep the Sunburst troopers safe and out of Heretic politics. She didn’t want any of this, but it was happening and she couldn’t stop it.

A cacophony of no’s and pleas came from the clone troopers as they all tried to break free of their constraints. Fenn backhanded Blanche, causing him to stagger to the side. He spit out to the side, a mixture of his blood and salvia splattering against the concrete floor.

As Syrena staggered towards Max, Blanche and Bruiser continued to plead with her, offering their life in exchange for his. It was a noble appeal really, but Syrena knew that it wouldn’t meet the most rigid law of the Heretics. And she knew Max wouldn’t allow it to happen; he wouldn’t let one of his brother’s suffer a gruesome fate for something he did. He took a life, so he would pay for it with his own. 

Syrena didn’t want him to die. She knew Max, knew the kind of person he was. He was kind, almost to a fault. He was nice and welcoming to her the moment they met, something not even Bruiser had been. 

But rules were rules and Syrena was ready to follow them. She would be the one to watch the light leave his eyes, to feel his last breath waft against her face, to add him to her list of lives that she wished she could bring back.

She would be his murderer. 

Syrena slowly kneeled in front of Max, ignoring the searing pain in her side. She blocked out the room, shutting out Blanche and Bruiser’s cries and Fenn’s yells for them to be quiet. She focused entirely on Max, taking in how he had sat back on his knees, his shoulders slumped forward and into himself. He hadn’t looked up since Fenn had brought him forward. His eyes were locked on Nettie’s body, and Syrena could see a few tears begin to stain his tanned, flushed cheeks. She reached out and touched one of them, rubbing the tear between her fingers.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispered softly to her. “I didn’t mean-I didn’t want to kill anybody.” 

“I know,” she replied, her hand moving to rest on his shoulder. “You understand that I have to do this.”

He finally looked up at her, a small warm smile appearing on his face, “Yeah…It’s alright.” 

“It’s not alright.” Syrena couldn’t help the way her voice broke, as she settled her other hand on his other shoulder. “Are you afraid?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “Are you?” 

“Terrified.” 

Max nodded back to Bruiser, “Take care of him will you? Take care of all of them. They need someone to keep them on their toes.” 

“Can hardly take care of myself,” she replied with a small smile. 

“You aren’t as bad as you think you are, you know? I can see it in your eyes.” 

Blanche’s broken voice cut through the air, “Please, Syrena. Please don’t kill him. I’m begging you.” 

She could hear the sobs he tried to hold back. She wouldn’t look at Blanche or the others. She couldn’t. So instead, she let her pain and anger take over, allowing the Dark Side to wash through her system and act as a crutch. Syrena didn’t want to feel this.

Max turned his head, his sweet smile still on his face as he looked at Blanche, “It’s okay Blanchie, I got this.” 

His last syllables were short and stuttered as the hidden knives in Syrena’s wrist vambraces sprung out, sinking deep into his chest. Bruiser and Jaws choked out sobs, their cries flooding the room as they were unable to form words. And Blanche. Blanche was beyond broken. 

Max turned his head back to Syrena. She had gotten him in the weak points of his armor, piercing down into his heart. She watched, her face expressionless, as his sweet face, still smiling softly at her, became still as he slumped onto the ground. His wonderfully warm eyes faded into nothingness. 

A life for a life.

“NO!” Blanche screamed, trying in vain to get up. All he saw was red, all he felt was pure agony and hatred as Syrena slowly pulled her hands back, revealing the red covered blades. “No!” 

Fenn put her vibroblade to his neck, “You clones just don’t know when to shut up do you?” 

“Back off Fenn,” Syrena said weakly, unable to tear her eyes from Max’s body. She hurt all over and her side stung. 

“Maybe I’ll have to make you shut up,” Fenn laughed, ignoring Syrena. 

“I said back off!” Syrena shouted, Force pushing Fenn away from Blanche and the others. She was on her feet in an instant, ignoring the dizzying pain on her side and head. “We got what we came here for, now let’s go.” 

“Syrena’s right. They’ll be fully online and operational soon,” Alyze said. 

Fenn grumbled curses under her breath before putting away her vibroblade. She bent down and picked up Nettie’s body, slinging it over her shoulder with ease. They would need to give her a proper burial, a Heretic’s goodbye. 

She stopped by the Sunburst Squadron on her way to the blast doors, sneering at them. She was enjoying their pain. Enjoying how they seemed unable to process what happened. Bruiser and Jaws cried for their fallen brother as Sweets and Void began regaining consciousness. What a sight to wake up to: the body of their beloved sergeant dead in front of them and a seething Blanche. 

Fenn grabbed Max’s helmet from the ground, tossing it once in the air before smiling ruefully at Syrena, “A nice trophy, don’t you think?”

Before Syrena had the chance to lunge at her, Alyze wrapped their large arm around Syrena’s middle again to keep her from falling. She hadn’t even realized that she was losing balance. Her wound needed immediate medical attention.

Syrena didn’t look at the Sunburst Squadron as the three Heretics made their way out of the room. She didn’t watch as they scrambled to Max’s side, didn’t see Blanche’s binded hands grab his face. She tried to block out their cries and broken Mando’a, but their words and pleas for Max to wake up invaded her mind. It would be the sounds to haunt her dreams for the rest of time.

Alyze pressed the button on the controls for the blast doors, the heavy metal doors slowly shutting behind them to lock the clone troopers in the room. Syrena, with the last of her fleeting strength, waved her hand, sending a burst of Force energy to the troopers. All at once, their bindings fell to the ground, allowing them to hold each other and hold Max. 

The blast doors closed with a loud bang and all Syrena felt was pain and regret.

[ladyhallen]

Wrong Address Part 5

Harry Wakes Up

Read on AO3

The moment Harry touches the Ressurection Stone under the Light of the Moon, he is transported to a large cavern lit by a thousand candles that didn’t radiate heat.

He could act terrified; there are a pair of skeleton’s bowing to him with spears and a very beautiful woman with fangs and horns presenting him with a crown of bones. But given that he’d just been gearing himself up to do suicide via Voldemort…anything else seemed easy.

“Welcome back, Lord of the Dead,” the woman says with a smile. “The Underworld has missed you.”

Harry blinks at her. “Uhm. Pardon?”

She blinks back at him, dismay all over her face. “Do you not remember, my lord? You wished to leave after a millennia of service to the spirits of children and those who worship no one. Have you finally come back or was this an accident?”

Harry swallows. “I’m heading more for a hallucination,” he says quietly. “Can you please put that crown down?”

The crown of bones, upon closer inspection, look like it’s made of two skeleton hands forming a circle. It’s creepy as anything and he does not want it any way near his head.

The woman frowns at him, then gestures. Without warning, tendrils of darkness hold him in place and push his head down. He struggles, but it’s futile. The crown is placed on his head without pre-amble and Harry gasps at the feeling, at the weight of it.

The tendrils disappear, but Harry is rooted to the spot with a millennia of memories coming back, of everything else disappearing as all the important memories he’d wanted to remember, tied to his crown, is pushed back into his head.

“Oh,” he gasps, feeling quite inhuman. He looks at his hand and moves it. He sees the afterimage of his soul moving with it. It’s a beautiful thing to have a soul this time around.

“Syrena,” he manages, looking at the Succubus that had guarded his throne and his crown so zealously. He has a feeling he knows why, but being the Lord of the Dead – holy fuck – gives him a disconnect for such feelings. “Syrena, how many years has it been?”

Joy crosses her face, as well as relief. “Decades, my lord. Decades you left and decades we mourned your absence. The guardian pillars have continued their duties of guiding the souls of departed children. Everything is smoothly running, though we are starting to run out of space.”

Harry frowns, feeling a tingle of knowledge perk up. “That should not be. Has no one been reincarnating in a while?”

She pats him on the arm. “Only you can push the souls to the Eternal Land, my lord. Or place them in the wheel of reincarnation.”

Harry remembers Voldemort vaguely, but he knows that preventing an Imbalance is more important. Because the souls of children are so easily corrupted that getting them to a safe, neutral place had been his job. Is his job. It also takes innocent souls a while to remember if they want to reincarnate – try again or just rest for a while wherever souls go to rest.

Voldemort can wait, Harry decides. He will clear out one cavern of the dead, and then go back to Hogwarts to deal with Voldemort.

.

.

Harry doesn’t know how long he took clearing out the caverns, but he knows he did a good job by the lighter feeling in the realm. His realm.

By Merlin, everything gives him a headache and a double vision, overlaying what he sees with old, ancient memories.

“I have to tie up loose ends,” Harry tells the Succubus.

He doesn’t tell her that he needs to get away from any place his old self had frequented. The double vision fades away when he looks at something his old self had no knowledge of.

Within one breathe and the next, he’s back in the Hogwarts Hall.

It’s utter chaos, with thousands of injured being barricaded by enchanted armor and an army of house-elves fighting back. The wizards are all fighting, wands flashing fire. There are tears on many faces and sheer fury on a lot more.

And then there’s Hermione and Ron.

Hermione, whose solution to a teacher attempting to knock Harry of his broom had been to set them on fire, is looking terrifying. Her hair is all over the place with bits of static magic sparking all over. Her wand is a blur and she’s casting all lethal spells and her teeth are bared at Voldemort in challenge.

Ron, whose tactical brilliance won over enchanted chess pieces, is wielding two wands at once and he looks like he’s orchestrating the entire battle, eyes deadly and angry. He guards her back and takes care of anybody attempting to interfere.

Voldemort, on the other hand, looks weakened. His breathing looks painful and his face is an artwork of red. Harry is willing to bet that if Voldemort’s robes weren’t black, that would be an artwork too. Hermione is really terrifying.

Harry takes a deep breath and forgets how his presence affects shadows. When he exhales, the shadows in the room writhes in happiness, little tentacles expressing greeting. It catches everyone’s attention and soon enough, they all find him, faces in varying states of disbelief, relief, amazement and rage.

“Harry James Potter,” Hermione groans. “Bloody Potter. What the fuck?”

Harry shrugs, not taking his eyes off Voldemort.

Now that he can remember, he can also see the state of Voldemort’s mutilated soul and he feels nothing but pity for the bastard. Pity, and maybe some revulsion.

“Sorry. It really wasn’t my fault this time,” he tells her, because battle or not, people do not ignore Hermione Granger unless they have a death wish. “Tom Riddle, what have you done to your soul?”

Voldemort laughs, a pale imitation of his usual villainous cackle. “What is it to you, Harry Potter? Deserter, coward. You ran away in the cusp of the battle while everyone fights for you.”

Something settles into Harry, a deep awareness that wakes up. He allows himself to wrap that presence around him like a cloak and the crown of bone appears on his head.

“I am not the coward, Tom Riddle. You are. You, who are so terrified of death that you tore your soul apart,” he says firmly. His voice is the soft sighing of a thousand whispering souls and the cries of children in a silent grave. He’s usually not projecting, but his older self is pissed off. He slowly moves forward and gestures with one hand. The wand in Voldemort’s hand flies to Harry, the Elder Wand pleased to be home.

“So what?” Riddle spits. Harry can see the shadow of the man he could have been, if he’d just left his soul alone and let old childhood wounds heal. “I survived. All of them are dead and I survived. I killed Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry has to shake his head at that point. “No you did not. It was a mercy killing, at best. Because Albus Dumbledore was dying at that point and asked Severus Snape to do it, to cement his loyalty to you, because if he did not, then the school would be defenseless.”

It’s too much for Riddle, and he shrieks with rage, grabbing a wand from a Death Eater near him. Before he can raise his stolen wand Hermione blasts him back with a curse. It’s really not a good idea to forget Hermione when she’s pissed off at you.

McGonagall finishes it off and Ginny dislocates two of his ribs by jumping on him.

Hermione stalks towards him with intent and Harry raises his hands, disarming himself preemptively. Her hair is a storm cloud of fury, her face painting grief and relief in equal measures.

“Harry, you asshole!” she exclaims. She pitches herself forward and Harry braces himself for a punch.

It doesn’t come. Instead, he finds himself engulfed in a tight hug that threatened to cut off his air circulation.

“Hey, Hermione,” he says softly. It’s not his imagination that has the back of his shirt wet. “Hey, Ron.”

Ron smiles at him just as warmly as ever, eyes cataloguing him for injuries and finding relief when there was none.

“New accessories?” Ron asks, inclining his head towards the crown of bones.

Harry sighs. “You would not believe the shit I saw in the forest.”

.

Comments in my AO3, please.

[lyrishadow]

Fictober 5: wait

Prompt 5: “I’m not saying I told you so…”

Fandom: Mass Effect.

Title: Wait.

Pairing: Kaidan Alenko/ Syrena Shepard

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags

"Syrena Shepard." A familiar voice brought her up short.

"What?"

"They said you were all grown up and being good."

"Back off Finch, didn't they tell you what happened to the last person the Red sent after me?" Syrena could already feel Kaidan tense up at the name of the old gang, Garrus looked at her confused.

"Oh I'm not after you, we want your help." Finch replied, sliding his arm over her shoulder, a bad move all round. Kaidan reacted faster than Garrus had ever seen him react before.

"Hands off the Commander." He stated through gritted teeth,

"So it's true, you still exist too." Finch grunted as Garrus stepped over to where Kaidan was holding Finch.

"Maybe reevaluate who you are dealing with?"

" Really? Aliens and space magic?" Finch grimaced.

"Let him go." Syrena stated, "Kaidan. Garrus. "

She motioned them back behind her. Finch looked delighted, as they moved, once they were clear however. Syrena slammed the gangster up hard against the wall, a reasonable height off the ground.

"Don't say I didn't tell you so.." she said sweetly "I am no longer a Red, I haven't been for a long long time. You upset or hurt my friends again and so help everyone I will drop you out an airlock."

"Just talk to the turian guard in Chora's, and we won't bother you again." Finch snapped and she dropped him to the floor. "Gods Cherub, you got nasty."

That nickname made Kaidan growl under his breath.

The turian in Chora's Den proved to be some guard of a facility.

"I just had a gang member try and bribe me into dealing with you, can you tell me why?"

"Ah the Tenth Street Reds, running drugs and hate crimes against aliens."

"I see." Syrena shook her head.

"Problem?"

"No, but you might want to increase your guards."

"Noted."

"I knew it!" Finch declared.

"Knew what? I told you: mess with my friends and find an airlock." She shook her head " I didn't say I would help you. I am not that stupid."

Later once they had left the noise of Chora's Den, the three of them headed to have a drink.

"So how do you know each other?" Garrus asked glancing between the two of them,

"I was put into the same biotics program as Kaidan." Syrena replied, glancing at Kaidan.

" It was meant to be rehab, but the Reds found me."

"Rehab for what?"

"I was a street kid Garrus, a thug and a mouthy one too. Funny how meeting Kaidana d some others changed my entire outlook."

"Really?"

"Really. I was taken off station for medical care then it fell apart. So my room-mates family thanked me by paying my way through school and college. Then I joined the Alliance." Rahna, if Kaidan ever wondered about that girl, Syrena knew what happened. If he still fought over the ghost of her, well, then maybe it was time Syrena moved on too.

"And Kaidan?" Garrus frowned.

"I was there the night she got attacked, well her roommate woke us up, my roommate and I ran to help."

"Saved my life."

"Uh yeah. " Kaidan blushed.

"Ok I get it. Wow, that's dramatic and you were both16?"

"Um, he was. I was 14 I think. Yes I'm an L2, exceedingly lucky, no migraines no complications but I do get checked every six months."

"Wow impressive." Garrus nodded "but…"

"Yeah but Kaidan spikes higher, at a cost." Syrena sighed as the omni-tool notification sound drew them all back to reality. "So much for shore leave. Huh Wasn't me, that's first."

Garrus made a face.

"My father wants to talk to me, so I had better go call. See you back at the ship Commander, Lieutenant."

"You okay?" Syrena turned to Kaidan as Garrus walked away.

"I think so,"

"Not going to ask me about Rahna?"

"I don't have feelings for her, if that's the question. You kept in touch?"

"She told everyone who would listen that I saved her life." Syrena shook her head "I ended up with all expenses paid and a stipend to study university. She married a guy her father chose for her. "

"Wow."

"Yeh, that's the last thing I expected, but she is happy doing what she can to change the world." Syrena sighed "I always envied her that happiness, well that and you."

Kaidan blinked as if he hadn't heard her correctly.

"We are on shore leave, I am allowed to tell you aren't I?" Syrena asked quietly, wordlessly Kaidan nodded.

"I remember you being nice to me even when I didn't think I belonged, before I wanted to. " Syrena chuckled "I think I called you a princess."

Kaidan smiled, "You did in fact."

"Well I was interested in you from about then." She shook her head "I've never in the meantime dated anyone else."

"Sy." Kaidan replied.

"Yeah wrong timing, maybe when we get Saren out of the way?"

"I…"

"If you are interested. Gods when did I become someone who talks too much?" Syrena buried her head in her hands.

"Syrena?" Kaidan murmured, closer to her than she had expected.

"Is it safe?" She asked lifting her face to the side his voice had come from only to be met with his lips on hers.

It was like the galaxy froze for just a minute. Then Kaidan pulled back with a sigh.

It was a promise she had waited a long time for.

"Rahna?" Fifteen year old Syrena asked her new friend of a month.

"Yes?"

"What do I do if I have a crush?"

"Wait. If it is meant to be more than a crush the feelings will hold, if it isn't the feelings will fade and new ones will come." Rahna looked up from the homework she was writing on her bed " You like Kaidan?"

"I think. It's new." Syrena replied "Plus you like him, and he likes you. So it doesn't make sense."

"Not right now, we are all kids really, we can't tell the future, so it still stands. Someday we will be in love and that is supposed to be a lot more fun."

"Thanks Rahna,"

"Syrena, friends last through all of that."

It was all new, having friends, people who cared. She would wait and guard these good things with her life.

[scribblingfangirl]

NOT FAIR | The Witcher - Jaskier

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: I apologize if some of this might be off, my knowledge is based solely on the TV series and the bits of information I found on fandom pages and Witcher Wikipedias. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this first piece of scribbling I did after years of only writing for high school and university. It might sound a little bit academic from time to time. And just be plain weird, please, bear with me!

word count: ~ 2.5k

prompt: Person A and B have a red string of fate on their little fingers. It tightens up when they are looking at each other, making it feel as if there is a pull on the finger. However, only one of them can see it and is not able to talk about it to their soulmate.

warnings:  one swear word, angst, there are (probably) some inconsistencies in the story and (definitely) some sentences that are waaaay to long, punctuation mistakes (in general just a weak English vocabulary), rushed and weird ending

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

You both grew up in neighbouring houses in Lettenhove. Your parents were ‘good’ friends, as noble people usually are, always mingling around each other, spying, fake-laughing, and holding each other accountable. This meant that you and Julian were able to spend time together too.  

Even back then, when you were still young enough to be able to run around the garden in nothing but your undergarments without getting judgemental looks from your mother, as this, later on, would not look good anymore for a noble young lady, you had this little red string on your little finger, that connected yours to Julian’s. Of course, you didn’t know what that meant. 

Still, you went through thick and thin together, without the slightest mention of that string. Soon the scenery of your playground changed from your gardens to the streets of the town. People knew you both and knew you were a package deal. If one of you appeared the other wasn’t far away. You were each other’s shoulders to lean and to cry on and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

However, that wasn’t the whole truth. You did ask him once, in the early beginnings of your friendship, if he felt the pull on his finger as well, whenever you were near him or if he found the red string just as fascinating as you. The only response you got from him that day was a puzzled look and you swore to never talk about it again. It would take a few years for you to find out, that you wouldn’t be able to do it a second time anyway, no matter how hard you tried. 

It was when Julian started to receive his early education in a temple school and you were getting a training worthy for a noblewoman at home when you found out about the true meaning of the red string. “The first thing you ought to know,” your mother had said when she sat you down for your first lesson, “is the tale of the red string of fate. The two people that are connected by the string are supposed to be destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.” Astonished you had marvelled at the red thread around your finger and when your mother saw your facial expression, she quickly added, “however, only one of the two connected people is able to see the string and some greater force out there forbids them to talk about it. Not that you should worry about this my dear, your father and I already have a promising future prepared for you! After all, it is just some silly old tale!” 

As much as it was a silly old tale for your mother, it wasn’t one for you. You started to hear a lot about the myths and listen to the tales people told each other and you were over the moon. How lucky you were to have your best friend as your soulmate! The one person you could always count on! 

On the day Julian finally returned from the temple school, you stopped by his house to tell him about your luck. Though, just as your mother had warned, the words didn’t want to leave your mouth. It was as if you just forgot what you wanted to say as soon as you opened it, even though your mind was screaming at you to finally say it out loud. So, instead, you invited him to the ball that would be held at your house later that week. An event none of you actually wanted to attend, which Julian pointed out to you and you just muttered something about having changed while he was gone and that it was expected from a noble young lady as you looked down to your hands and examined the red string. He softly grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, so that he was able to look into your eyes. The feeling that emerged when you looked into his blue ones, that might as well had something to do with the pull on your finger you had almost forgotten during his time away, painfully reached your heart. His usually light blue eyes were darker, full of new, and to you unknown, information about the world and felt farther away than ever. How could you have known that that would only be the beginning of the end for you? 

Neither you nor Julian were very popular among your peers in the town and none of you ever made a lasting impression during past social gatherings or balls that were held or visited by your families. Which is why it came as a surprise to both of you when suddenly Syrena de Stael, the daughter of the visiting Earl de Stael, asked Julian to dance with her. Of course, as the gentlemen he was, and the additional scrutinizing glare of his mother, he couldn’t say no to her. How you then ended up knocking a young suitor for yourself to the floor, after he started a fight with Julian, thus allowing the latter and Syrena to leave without being disturbed, was, however, beyond you. 

Shortly after that, it became official. Julian declared himself in love with the Countess de Stael and your time as his best friend came to an end. Sure, he still considered you his best friend, but you started to spend less and less time together. Syrena here, Syrena there. That was, after all, the Julian you knew. Once he had an obsession, a fleeting thought of a possibility, he couldn’t stop chasing it. In the end, you were only able to meet as long she was there too, so, after some weeks, you didn’t saw each other anymore at all. 

Before losing contact, however, you had asked him if he thought that Syrena and he were meant to be. “Yes, I think so. I love her, what’s more to want than that?” he had asked back. Your soulmate was the small and simple answer. He had laughed. Laughed the laugh you missed so much that it had hurt your heart hearing it again after such a long time. “That’s just… shit. I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t actually believe this? I mean, come on! One sees the red string, but can’t talk about it? If you can’t talk about it, how come everybody knows about this tale, this myth? And if you can talk about it to other people, how come soulmates don’t tell their friend or families who their soulmate is, and they pass it on? No, it just can’t be real! Syrena is my love and I don’t need fate to tell me that.”

You had just nodded, he had a point after all. You had felt the pull on your finger one last time and had suppressed your tears after he had said that, trying to smile at him. To implement his suggestion now, telling your family or friends that he was your soulmate, would have been clearly futile now. He wouldn’t have believed you, or them, and might have possibly gotten angry at you. 

After some days, however, you started to feel how the string pulled at your little finger, regardless of how close you were to him. It pulled you towards him and you asked yourself once, after weeks of feeling the pulling, if he felt it too, but you knew it to be hopeless. The string became longer and longer, but it never lost its pull and strength, until one day you woke up and saw it laying on the floor, tied loosely to your finger. That was the day Julian left to study at Oxenfurt University without saying good-bye. It was the first time you let yourself cry over Julian Alfred Pankratz. Additionally, it was the last time you would ever call him by that name and it was the day part of you turned into nothing.

You didn’t see him, or anything of Lettenhove for that matter, for years after that. While he went on to study, you went travelling around Redania and then the whole Continent, after learning more about this ‘promising future’ your parents had prepared for you. You left your noble life behind, taking the odd job opportunity here and there, which mostly consisted of helping out in taverns, and it gave you enough coin for a more or less comfortable journey.

Jaskier, as he called himself now, after quitting university life and pursuing his musical talents, never left your mind. It hurt that you missed him so much, but every time you thought that the string must have finally snapped, you looked at your hand and it was still there, giving you the faintest feeling of hope.

Then how you met him again. He passed through the village you were currently staying in, his Witcher friend in tow, though it might just have been the other way around and played in the tavern you were currently working at. He looked the same, not a day older and was wearing a colourful, unlaced doublet and his undershirt slightly unbuttoned, letting everyone get a peek at his soft chestnut brown chest hair. 

He saw you as he went to get himself some ale after his performance and invited you for a drink after your shift ended, an offer which you stupidly enough gladly accepted. Talking and laughing together was almost like during the good old times, hadn’t it been for the fact that almost all he talked about was his travels with Geralt and the way he missed the Countess de Stael. That night you ran up into your room and slammed the door, screaming at nothing and everybody at the same time, ignoring the fact that the other guests, and even Jaskier, might hear you. You grabbed the gods forsaken red string and hoped to pull it off your finger, so it wouldn’t remind you of your sad fate anymore, as some things obviously wouldn’t change. 

Again, years passed after that fleeting encounter in which you didn’t even heard of him, as you went as far as leaving every tavern, place and social gathering at the slightest mention of the word ‘bard’. Or at least, you did the best you could to avoid any possibilities. 

As fate would have it, however, you met Jaskier again. He had walked into the tavern in Cintra you were in, this time as a guest rather than a barmaid. You had just gained a new job offer, protecting Cintra from the inevitable attack from Nilfgaard and wanted to drink what was possibly the last ale in your life.

At first, you didn’t even realise that you were looking at the face of your soulmate as he took a seat at the bar, straight in front of you, his lute thrown carelessly at his feet. Then a little breeze caught the red string and pulled at your finger and you heard his voice, so miserable, so broken. You drowned the last of your drink, wanting to forget this image, not wanting it to be the last memory you remembered of him as you went into this war.

Jaskier had wandered into Cintra in the hopes of meeting Geralt, knowing that he couldn’t keep running from his child surprise, from his destiny. Hearing your voice as you thanked the barmaid and passed her coin as payment, before grabbing your belongings and exiting the tavern without acknowledging him in the slightest, wasn’t part of his plans. He didn’t know how long he was staring after you, but it was only the hand on his shoulder that brought him back to the present. “My friend,” said the barman, “you do not look like a soldier to me. Run as long as you still can. Get out of here.”

As useful as that advice might have been, everything that happened afterwards was a blur to Jaskier, but he knew that it was too late. It was dark and yet ghostly shadows were dancing across the walls and the streets due to the growing fires, accompanied by horrific screams and the gruesome sounds of clashing swords. Villagers were running around, and he had just been pushed into a narrow back alley when he felt a pull. A pull he first felt when he was a little kid running around in his garden, a pull that was always there when he heard Y/N’s laugh or saw her sparkling eyes. A pull that disappeared for a long time before reappearing that time in the tavern.

His heart sank and he forgot about the whole situation around him, about the attack on Cintra, his search for Geralt, about the Nilfgaardian soldiers that were still running around. He just felt a pull and looked at his hand. There it was, a beautiful and delicate red string wrapped around his little finger, pulling him out of the narrow alley… pulling him to you.

You were laying in midst of the chaos, soldiers, as well as villagers, scattered around you, some breathing, some not, an arrow in your chest and you were groaning in pain, eyes closed. With a sob he sank to his knees beside you, softly touching your fragile and trembling form, moving your head to rest on his knees, afraid to hurt you even more. Gently he rested his forehead against yours and it was at that moment, blame the gods for their wicked ways, that he remembered the one question you asked him a long time ago. “Do you feel the pull around your little finger as well, whenever I’m near you? Do you find the string fascinating too?”

“Yes”, he started to sob, feeling your body react to his voice, but not caring if his sudden outburst made any sense to you, “I do feel the pull whenever I’m near you sweetheart, I do! But now it’s too late! How could I’ve been so stupid?!”

His breath was warm against your face and the fear and pain that you should have been feeling vanished the moment his sweet voice reached your ears. “Shh, shh. It’s not,” you croaked, breathing shallow and opened your eyes. While trying to smile, your hand automatically searched for his, but you were too weak to move, nonetheless, feeling a faint pull too. “It’s never too late. At least we now know how it works. How people found out about the myth. The death of one means freedom and knowledge for the other.”

“No,” he lifted his head, his hair glued to his sweaty forehead, not breaking the eye contact you established earlier. “No! I don’t want freedom and knowledge if it means to have a life without the possibility of having you in it!”

“Then save me.”

[mrneighbourlove]

The Rising Sun: Ch 5. Power Exchanged

"Oh thank the goddesses we're here."

"I thought we'd never hear the prattle end from your grandfather about his glory days."

"Give him a break, he's old and just wants to give an impression that he can still kick ass."

"Can he still kick ass?"

"I... think so? To a degree? If you're close enough to hit with his cane, perhaps."

"Or his farts, those are lethal."

“Oh, hush the lot of you.” Ganondorf, former King of Hyrule, had grown older with age. Man was just over a century of age. Even kept his build up over all the decades. Up until Zelda passed away. His wife’s death shook him to the core, and over the last few years since her passing, he lost muscle mass. No need to work out, but also a loss of spirit. Still, he held joy for his family: children, grandchildren, friends. And this day was one of the most joyous he’d ever have in a long time.

With all his children and grandchildren finally gathered, with their significant others, they were traveling to Taiyo Town in a large caravan.

"We would have been here sooner if you didn't have to stop to pee ten times."

"Shut it, you were the one that kept complaining about being hungry."

"I was hungry! What's wrong with being hungry?"

"Ganonpa," Luimaya sighed in annoyance, listening to her siblings and cousins’ bicker. "How did you do it with Dad and his siblings?"

“To be honest, it was your grand mother that was the level headed one. I often encouraged some healthy bickering. Was also easy to haul you all by the scruffs when you’ve been misbehaving. Also helped to have Rinku and Leere step in once in a while.” The Mortuus had a nice cloak to protect her skin from the sun. Sunny was letting little Joy play with Skyla. “Well that became difficult when all our younger siblings become rebellious giants.”

"Hmph, when you could catch us by the scruff, old man."

"Remember that time when we pranked him with the stink bomb with Skull Kid?"

"He chased us through the halls for hours before giving up."

"I told you it wasn't a good idea at the time."

"What do you mean, Lui? It was your idea."

"Yes, my idea, just not at that time. He was in a mood that day and we set it off."

"What are we even doing here, anyway? I thought the future queen couldn't leave the castle unless it was for diplomatic reasons."

"It is." Luimaya clarified. "I'm here to meet the leaders of Taiyo Town."

"But you're going to be the queen, and you're Gerudo. So, doesn't that make you their leader?"

Revan cleared his throat, sitting next to Nakeso and Luimaya. There were so many grandkids he’d barely known here now. Not to mention, he was finally about to enter the town his father put so much time and attention into. The whole feeling was daunting, but he did his best to relax. Heck, Kanisa’s kids didn’t even look like Gerudo. “Well, yes and no. All the tribes of Hyrule ha e either sworn fealty to the crown of Hyrule or formed alliances. So technically, my father and anyone else who’s in charge here could lead without outright obeying Covarog and later Luimaya.”

Luimaya and Ganondorf both shot Revan a glare at his words. Like grandfather, like granddaughter, it seemed. She definitely inherited his scowl. Evidently, the two of them agreed on the premise that the Gerudo of Taiyo Town should still hold some respect for the original King, his son, and granddaughter. "We don't want a repeat of the past, Revan. We're going to ensure it stays peaceful, but there has to be some grounds of respect." Luimaya told her bodyguard. "Your father or another leader, it matters not."

“I never suggested that.” Revan drew closer to Nakeso, freezing when his thigh touched hers. “And I’m sure my dad isn’t a fool. Just stubborn. Something I’ve heard and know you two can have in common.”

The cart laughed as Ganondorf merely smiled lightly in agreement. It wasn’t something he could deny.

"That's right, you're the fool and he's just stubborn." Luimaya teased, earning another round of snickers from everyone in the caravan. "You've nearly gotten yourself killed numerous times, not counting the times you were trying to watch my back."

"I don't know who is the worst, Revan or you."

"Revan." The grandkids all responded in unisons.

"He has more tallies." Nakeso held up a notebook. "Revan has nearly gotten killed 158 times while Luimaya is only at 37."

"What? Really? I thought she'd have more."

"She's reckless, but she's not stupid enough to put herself in situations to die."

"True."

"Hey! Your future queen is hearing all this!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it's true."

Revan was bright red in the face. “It hasn’t even been a year since- Wait, how long have you kept that book around for?”

"Since you were five and almost stuck your head into a forge to prove you were fireproof like your sister." Nakeso remarked, earning a snort from Donoma. "I still can't believe you did that."

"He was just jealous that I could walk in fire without getting burned." Donoma giggled. "And pouted when I held fire in my hands like a ball. Insisted he could do it too. I don't think I've ever seen Mama scold him like that for an hour."

Revan was growing uncomfortable. Pretty much every grandchild was not only older than him, Ralnor’s children themselves being in their mid thirties to cap the height of age, but they were all together on his misery. Even Donoma seemed to be more suited with them. “Yeah. Sure.” When he saw Skyla looking at him, he sighed, secretly signing to her. “ Least I’m not afraid of spiders.”

"You in trouble. A lot." Skyla signed in return with a small smile. She was still shy, like she was when a tiny girl, but had opened up to her cousins and was flourishing in her studies to be a veterinarian. "But good fighter. Luimaya lucky to have you. Don't worry. Everyone loves you. Just tease you cause love you."

“Could fool me.”

“Hey ya’ll!” Rinku shouted from the front of the horse cart. “We’re here. You all behaving back there? Hate to turn this ride around~”

"Hey, if we're not behaving, it's only because we learned it from you." Covarog snickered.

Orana jested with him. "Yeah, you tell her."

“Well, you got me there.” They could hear the putter patter of her feet walking on the sand to the doors. Opening them, sunlight poured inside. “To those unaccustomed by desert heat, please apply sunscreen that’s been provided. This mostly applies to my gothic sister pale as a vampire and Kanisa’s one eyed, blue skinned, always a pleasurable attitude husband and my adorable nephew and niece from Uskar. My sister in law Sunny has provided sun hats for those who prefer them.”

"Is your sister always this cheery?" Vidar grumbled in Uskarian to Kanisa. He absolutely loathed the desert and the heat. The poor man looked miserable. "I don't see how it's possible with all this sand and sun."

"Just deal with it a little while longer please, love." Kanisa assured her husband. "We'll be back in Uskar soon enough."

"If I don't melt first."

Leere addressed Skyla and Joy together with Tebanem. “Since you’re both the youngest, I’d like you both to stay together at all times. Stay within eyeshot of an adult.”

"Hey! I'm not a kid." Tebanam huffed. "I'm an adult!"

"She means Skyla and Joy, Teb." Faris clarified, amused, to his husband. "She doesn't want them wandering off."

"Oh."

The shit eating grin on Leere’s face filled up until she couldn’t help but keel over in laughter. “If you need the advice of the oldest siblings, talk to me or Luimaya, Tebby. I’m sure Kanny will love to be your pair buddy~”

"Oh shut it, I knew what you meant, I was just joking." Tebanam refused to look her in the eye, crossing his arms.

Once all the others had stepped outside, Ganondorf made his way out of the cart. It had been too long since he breathed desert air and tasted life upon the winds. With light robes he turned to the massive walls of the town. Was like a fortress. “Impressive.” The gates opened as Revan and Donoma handed out passes to the men that their father had given them in advance. What awaited inside amazed the old king. Gerudo of all shapes and sizes interacting as a community. Everyone of them shouted out one big greeting when they saw the family gathering. “VASAAQ!!! SAV’AAQ!!!”

Revan himself blinked, surprised by how many red headed women there were. He looked at his sister surprised. “You’ve been coming here?”

"Yeah, what of it?" Donoma was taken aback by her brother's surprise. "I've learned a lot about our history. Mama taught me all I needed to know of what we had of Lorleidian history. Dad taught us what he knew of Gerudo history, but there's only so much he can teach. The rest of it needs to be experienced. Besides," She waved at a few of her friends. "I've made a lot of progress in my studies and I have friends here. It's nice to have a second home."

“Must be nice.” Revan couldn’t help but let his bitterness out. Was he not Gerudo enough to belong here? The man of the hour appeared. Malik opted for stylized, yet comfortable robes. Beside him, Gali was wearing a nice Vai dress. The Lord of Taiyo Town smiled to Zarazu before addressing the group as a whole. “My extended family, and royal family of Hyrule. I am honoured that you can finally see the hard work all of our generations have worked towards. The Gerudo people prosperous once again. I welcome you to Taiyo town.”

Each family member extended their greeting politely before the King spoke. "I am impressed by the amount of work here, and absolutely delighted that we finally are able to see the restoration of our people." Covarog then noted Gali. "Please let me to express my thanks in allowing Lord Malik to help you oversee the construction of Taiyo Town. May I present my wife, Queen Zarazu of the Lorleidians," He gestured to his lover. "And my children. Marena and Syrena are the youngest twins, then Zahirog, then Turagor and Luimaya are my eldest. My Luimaya is next in line to rule our kingdom."

Gali bowed her head politely to Luimaya. “It is a privilege to learn the next high Queen will be a Gerudo Woman on the throne. Strong, and fiery from what Donoma has told me in her studies. You will make a remarkable queen, I’m sure. We encourage you to explore Taiyo Town on your own. We want to be an organic experience for all of you.”

"It is a privilege to be here in your town, to learn more of my history and to walk with the fierce warriors that I have read so much about in books. I feel like this is something out of a fairy tale, even though I know it's simply history." Luimaya returned a respectful nod of her head to Gali. "I ask that you teach me, my siblings, and cousins all that you know and anything you wish for us to learn; whether it be ways of combat or simple knowledge." Then the future queen gestured to Skyla. "I ask you have patience with my family, but especially my cousin, Skyla. She is deaf and reads lips. I don't suppose any of you know sign? She can write in Gerudo, but that takes a time." "Hi!" Skyla signed to Gali with a bright smile. "I do read lips, but accents make lips move odd. Please talk slowly for me." Luimaya then translated, "She is greeting you and asking for you and the other members of the town to speak slower for her, to give her time to read your lips."

Gali nodded, addressing the town in Gerudo to look out for the little one. Turning to Skyla, she got on a knee to kneel down to her and speak in Sign. “Hello Skyla. I am Gali. I think I’ve met you and your father’s people on my travels before. Hard to forget a tribe as pretty as you.”

"You tall lady." Skyla motioned to the women surrounding Gali. "All tall. Garai women like me, not so tall. Sister tribe, you come visit sometime." She then stomped the sand with her foot and made a sailing wave with her arm. "Ride Sand Rays! Learn of Gerudo now. You learn of Garai too. Too much time pass without sister tribe. Sand here. Stone there. Much to know." "Skyla, don't sign so fast, she might not get it all." Tebanam hopped down from his camel, Loogie, and signed to his daughter. "They go slow for you, you go slow for them. Not too fast." Skyla blushed and sheepishly signed, "Sorry. Excited!"

"That's more than fine Skyla. We'll get to learning about each others culture very quickly." Gali patted Skyla on the shoulder as she stood up. "We have tour guides in green patched shoulders who'd love to take you around our markets, bars, training grounds, schools, saunas, spas, and the rest of the joyous spots in Taiyo Town. If you'd like to explore on your own that's fine too. I hope you all enjoy the joys Taiyo Town can bring!"

Ganondorf was lost in thought as he looked around the town. While Gali was addressing the crowd, he watched small Gerudo children kick a ball back and forth. A woman was beating an old styled blanket he used to wrap himself in previous lives from her balcony. And there was a Hylian in the background laughing with a Gerudo. A union he had been working hard since with his wife to normalized. A view he knew his cousin had struggled to come to grips with. Yet here they were.

~

Donoma was struggling to pull her brother through the throng of women. This was a headache. She kept politely asking for the ladies to step aside, but they were more interested in talking to Revan. "Girls... girls, for fuck's sake!!!" Donoma shouted over the crowd. "You can feel his pecs later, we're going to see my mom now."

“Come on Donoma! This is the virgin brother you have! Can’t we just, you know, kiss him. For homework purposes?” Her roommate asked in a little sexy voice for her brother.

Revan wasn’t expecting so many of the girls around Donoma’s age to be so horny. This wasn’t the type of attention he wanted. “I have someone else...”

"No. At least, not now. Later." Donoma yanked Revan into the tent that her mother and father shared. Finally, maybe the crowd would go away. "Damn vultures, I swear..."

"Revan!" Asakonigei was on bed rest, currently trying her hand at knitting and failing miserably. Although, her face lit up when she saw her son and daughter. "Donoma! I'm so happy you're both here!"

“Mom!” Revan ran forward, hugging her close. “Are you ok? I can’t believe Dad got you pregnant again.”

"I'm fine, Revan, just a little uncomfortable with all this extra weight." Asakonigei hugged her son tightly. "We were not exactly planning this, but nonetheless, it happened. I've been very well cared for while I've been here."

"Do you know what the baby is now?" Donoma asked her mother. "I've been wanting to know for so long!"

"Yes, actually, I do know the baby is going to be." Asakonigei smiled widely. "You're both going to have a little brother."

"Queen Zarazu birthed three Gerudo boys and now, I suppose I'm lucky to have a second one." Asakonigei then added. "Though your father and I have been at odds about a name."

“You have?” Revan sat beside her, wanting to not leave her side. Been months since he saw his mother.

"Get a load of this," Donoma plopped onto the bed, opposite to Revan, their mother in the middle. "Dad says he wants another Gerudo name, but Mom is insisting on a combination between Gerudo and Lorleidian since my name is Lorleidian and yours is Gerudo."

"It's only fair." Asakonigei defended her point. "I doubt I'm having another baby, so half it, right?"

“Well knowing father, he most likely doesn’t want a Frankenstein name put together.”

"It's not that bad, I don't think." Donoma shrugged her shoulders. "Mufratir is all right, isn't it?" Asakonigei asked her son.

Revan couldn’t hide his displeasure at the name as his face contorted at the corners. “Keep it simple?”

"Or she could go all out like Zarazu and Covarog did with Zahirog and name the kid Malikonigei." Donoma snorted.

"Oh, hush you!" Asakonigei gently shoved at Donoma's shoulder.

“Could call him Dad’s first name?” Revan pondered on the possibilities.

"One Malik in the world is enough, the world has enough stubbornness." Asakonigei laughed.

"The world didn't need even more with Revan, what have you done, Mom?"

"Your brother is not that bad."

"He went into a match without magic."

"That's just his ego."

“Excuse me?!” The comment of the world not needing him stung Revan to his core. “I’m sorry I tried to prove that I had value in the skills I crafted for myself. I’m sorry I’m not daddies favourite child!”

"Oh, stop being a brat." Donoma snapped at Revan. "You know that's not what I meant. I implied the world doesn't need more of your 'I'm-undefeatable' attitude." She then scoffed and said, "Favorite? Dad doesn't choose favorites, but if you really believe that's true, it's only because I actually listen and behave."

"Hush, you two, stop fighting." Asakonigei scolded both of her children. "I shall not have you two fighting in front of me or your father. He has enough to worry about as it is."

“Oh you know what, fuck dad too. Too important with all of this to give a damn about me.” Revan gestured all around the village with wide arms. “Skipping dinners, celebrations, and ceremonies to be here. Except while I’m stuck out busting my ass, he chooses you to live here with him. You’re probably aware he’s never once invited me here.”

"He didn't choose me to live with him here, you dumbass! I'm a woman, for starters, and at least I look Gerudo!!!" Donoma spat back at Revan. "He's trying his best to rebuild some semblance of what our ancestors lost! If you're so upset about not receiving a personal invitation, it's not Dad's fault! The Gerudo women here don't trust men! The only reason they trust Dad is because he is Gerudo!"

"ENOUGH!!!" Asakonigei shouted so loud that Revan's ears and Donoma's rang something fierce. "If the both of you are going to squabble like children, then you can do so elsewhere! I do not need the stress of seeing you two fight and neither does your little sibling! Out! Right now!"

"But Mom---"

"I said, OUT!!!"

“You hit the nail exactly on the head. In his eyes I’m not Gerudo. And if I am, I’ll only carry the worst aspects. So how about you go crawl back to your sisterhood like the good little girl you are.” Revan looked to his mom, daring to glare at her something fierce. “A baby will kill you. Why would you risk putting us through something like that?”

"At least I don't follow around a girl who doesn't love me!" Donoma shot back. "Luimaya will never like you in that aspect and you think being her bodyguard will make her view you as some romantic hero? You're an ass." With that, Donoma tromped out of the tent.

Asakonigei gave Revan a hard stare. "I had complications with you, I lost too much blood with Donoma, and yet, both of you are still here and alive." Asakonigei said very sternly. "Your father and I didn't plan this. I did not even think I could get pregnant again with the trauma my body suffered. Yet, this baby is growing within me and will need you and your sister. I would gladly die for you and Donoma, and this baby. It's part of me and part of your father, and will be your sibling. Don't you dare patronize me, son."

“Is this because you want to give father his large family. You really think it’ll be fair to the baby to grow up in a world without a mother?” Revan sat down next to her, disbelief wrapped around his face. “You think that’s fair to me and Donoma to lose you for another one of father’s grand dreams? Honestly, are you even thinking properly here?”

"No, I don't think it's fair. Not for me, not for you, not for your sister or father, and certainly not the baby." Asakonigei stated as her son sat beside of her. "As I said previously, your father nor I planned this. It simply happened. And I am thinking very clearly. I am a mother. You will not be able to understand until you have children of your own, Revan. I want this baby to be born surrounded by love regardless of what happens to me. I may or may not survive... but at least this time, I will have more help."

“How? What makes you believe that? Your body will kill you. Dr. Bovier made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes, Doctor Boveir did. Yet, these women believe differently. So now, the only thing I have left is faith."

“Faith? Are you out of your mind?” Revan sneered at the very thought. “We should just get on our hands and knees and pray? Or perhaps we should get some shaman to throw flowers on top of you.”

"Don't. Patronize. Me." Asakonigei yanked her son forward by the collar of his armor. She was pregnant, but still strong enough to get Revan's attention. "I prayed to Kovina for you. You are here. If you are going to be like this, then you can leave. I will not have your attitude around myself or your new sibling-to-be when the time comes. Either you can support me, or go. What is it going to be?"

“I’ll leave when her royal highness deems it ready to go.” He held her hand, his fingers gentle, yet firm on her. His eyes were angry, but his lips trembled small hesitation. “I don’t want Klinge’s ego to take you away from me.”

"... you know I'll fight the Goddess of Death to stay here with you." Asakonigei held the side of his face with a small sigh. "If you don't have faith in the deities, at least have faith in me. Your mother is a tough old woman."

Revan’s eyes were heavy as he slowly nodded in agreement. “Alright...” Careful to not hurt her, he hugged his mother closely. “I don’t trust Father to look after you. So you have to be strong enough to look after yourself.”

As Revan hugged her, Asakonigei slowly stroked the back of his hair, trying her best to soothe him. "I have a lot of women here ready to help me. I'll have help, Revan. And if you decide to stay for a little while, then you can help me too."

Revan choose to ignore that last part. “I hope they can help you...”

~

The first day of the royal family visit was going smoothly. Malik was incredibly proud of his people. Seeing Luimaya, he waved the girl and her siblings over. “Young princess. Princes and princess’. How are you this afternoon?”

Luimaya had been exploring the town with her siblings and cousins. All of them were currently enjoying a recipe of the Gerudo heritage. Poor Turagor was coughing from the spiciness, the younger twins barely batted an eye, and Zahirog merely nibbled on his, trying to save face. "This is... a different experience for sure. It's not exactly what I've read in books." Zahirog admitted to Malik.

"I guess history left out a few parts." Turagor said in-between sputters from the spicy chicken leg.

"I really enjoyed seeing such beautiful custom clothes!" Marena smiled.

"And hearing the music!" Syrena added.

Luimaya stayed silent for a while, thinking. "Though... Ganonpa won't stay here to lead them." She then asked. "So I suppose Gail is going to?"

“Ganondorf is too old to lead. The man has lived long enough for this lifetime to be a ruler. Gali certainly makes a qualified Chieftain in my absence.”

The siblings exchanged glances.

"... you?" Zahirog appeared to be confused. "You're a man. I thought the Gerudo wanted a female leader like Nabooru in the old days?"

“There have been Kings and Queens in our past too.”

"Yeah, though Zahi and Turagor needed a pass just to come in here." Marena noted. "So... it's safe to assume they're not too trusting of men." Syrena pointed out to her uncle.

"I know Mom and Dad will probably want to talk to them about keeping good ties with Hyrule." Luimaya told Malik. "I know Dad is King and a descendant of Ganondorf, so surely there will be peace from here on out."

“That’s something we are working out. I just don’t want these people to be taken advantage of.” Malik smiled softly, speaking gently to them all. “Just how I didn’t want your father, uncles, aunts and all of you taken advantage. History can sometimes be tricky and like to repeat itself.”

"Do you think they'll allow Lorleidians here too? Maybe some Hylian civilians?" Luimaya inquired. "For trading purposes?"

“Yes. It’s what I want. It’s what we are already trying to integrate. Look closely, and you’ll be able to spot one or two amongst the town even now.”

"As long as there is prosperity and peace, that's what matters the most." Luimaya stated.

"Though, I really wish you wouldn't stay here."

"Yeah, the castle would fall apart without you." Turagor remarked as he chugged down some water, trying to wash away some of the spiciness of the chicken. "I mean, you did keep our aunts and uncles from arguing all the time. Sort of."

"I think what he's trying to say is you're a peacemaker and we don't want anymore food fight incidents between Uncle Corsaire and his crew against the Hylian guards." Zahirog blanched. "I was pulling noodles out of my hair for weeks."

“Children...” Malik tried to sound soft to counteract how tired he was of this particular conversation. “I’ve been a peacemaker before your parents were even born. If you still need to rely on my guidance, I fear for the stability of Hyrule.”

"What they're trying to say is, they're going to miss you if you stay here." Marena clarified.

"Yeah. It would suck, cause we wouldn't get to see you as often." Syrena added to her twin's statement.

“Your Aunt Kanisa lives a whole ocean away. I’m still less then a days travel away. Besides, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” He gently patted Syrena on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but at least she has a dragon to bring her here to see us." Syrena sulked slightly. "If you move away, you might not come back cause Uncle Ralnor annoys you."

"We all know that Uncle Ralnor can annoy anyone with his 'proper-ness'." Marena snickered. "I hold my pinky finger out when I sip tea, look at me, I'm so proper." The siblings did exchange giggles at that mentioning.

“What? You can’t travel here to see me?”

"We can but who knows when we'll be able to." Luimaya admitted with a heavy sigh. "Come on, Uncle Malik. Even Mom and Dad don't get out of the palace that much. You know that."

"And when Lui becomes queen, it will be harder for to do so." Turagor frowned slightly. "Maybe for us if we have to stay at home too."

"At least we have each other." Zahirog noted. "That's what counts."

"But on a lighter note, Mama told us that Aunt Asa is pregnant again." Marena smiled. "What are you going to name the baby?"

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Syrena asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Malik didn’t want to know, least, not quite yet. Sighing, he figured out how to approach their worries. “The same way home will keep you busy in central Hyrule, my home here will keep me busy. This is simply part of life though children.”

"We know." Zahirog shrugged, holding his siblings together with his arms around their shoulders. "Though you better find the time to visit if we do."

“I-“ Malik saw Ganondorf from afar. The man held an expression of light urgency, waving the Lord with the wrist of a hand. “If you will excuse me children.”

Reaching Ganondorf’s side, Malik still felt slightly humbled in his presence. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Not at all. However, there is something of great importance I wish to discuss with you.”

“I understand.”

“I think privately will be best.”

Privately? This intrigued Malik. “Very well. Inside the eyes of the goddess statue then?” Ganondorf looked to the edge of the town where a giant woman of stone observed the town.

“You can go inside?”

“Yes. I made it a place of pray and to chronicle our people.”

“How spiritual of you. Let’s not waste time. Still a night of celebration to share.” The two Gerudo men reminisced on their shared past as they made their way to the temple. Inside, Ganondorf and Malik took their seat in front of a mural of great Gerudo’s past. “Cousin, don’t think me rude, but I invited two others.”

"I swear, if Malik wanted me to drag my ass in here for another stupid test of his, I'mma choke him. Getting too old for that."

"Now, now, Rinku, I'm sure he just wants to talk without a ton of eyes upon us."

"I'm serious, I'm so over these tests of his, Zarazu! At least he learned his lesson with you."

"How so?"

"... you took the man's arm; he should be grateful you didn't take his dick." Rinku and Zarazu had no idea that the words in the temple could... echo.

Ganondorf turned to daughter as she made herself visible with Zarazu. “Colourful vocabulary.” Malik was surprised to see Zarazu and Rinku together. “I didn’t expect you both to be here.”

"You invited us?" Zarazu held a tone of questioning to her voice. "Unless I misunderstood, you wanted to meet with the holders of the Tri-Force?"

"Hey, I've heard worse from you, Ganondad." Rinku pointed a finger at Ganondorf.

“I did.”

“What is this all about?” Malik stiffened, uncertainty filling his being. His words said otherwise, but deep down his heart knew why they were all gathered now.

Ganondorf changed his gaze over to Malik, a deep and heavy look falling on him. “We are here to talk about The Triforce of Power’s new owner.”

Silence was cast over the room, and a shocking realization hit Malik now it was in the open air. “Me?”

"...?! WHAT?!" Rinku shook her head. "Wait, I thought Covarog was supposed to get the Tri-Force? He's next in line, no offense, Malik."

"I am... surprised myself." Zarazu stated slowly, not expecting this. "Might I ask why?"

“Rinku...” Ganondorf waiter until his eldest daughter was a little calmer before continuing. “Every child of mine, with the exception of you, carries a seed of darkness that I share. I fear the Triforce might corrupt them as it corrupted me.”

"Corrupt them?!" Rinku took offense to that. "All your kids are the best of you and Mom. Do you truly think that if you give the Tri-Force to Covarog that he'll turn dark?" She then said, "If you don't want to trust Covarog with it, then give it to Ralnor. Hell, give it to Orana or Kanisa, even Teb! They're not going to be corrupted! None of them are part of this curse that you, Mom, and I have repeated!"

“No. They both struggle with darkness in their choices. And I won’t expose Orana, Kanisa, or Tebanem to temptation of abuse. I need someone who’s motives are incorruptible. That knows the weight of true magic and power.”

"You have so little faith in them! Look at how much they all have overcome!" Rinku frowned and gestured to Zarazu. "They're married. They have families. They're happy! And not once ounce of lust for power within them! And you think Malik is the one? Good goddesses, look at what you both have done in the past!" Rinku exclaimed. "Look at how much bloodshed both of you have on your hands! He's a carbon copy of you, Ganondorf! This is not a good idea!"

“Have we not redeemed ourselves? Has he not suffered enough under my hands as much as any of my other past victims? He rose from being my tool to regaining his humanity.” Ganondorf sent a penetrating look at his daughter. “What’s more, he has never broken my trust. Even in the deepest depths of depravity he was always honest with his intentions.”

"Yeah, he regained his humanity, but not due to you." Rinku remarked with a glare of her own. "Due to her," She motioned to Zarazu, and then added, "And his wife. What do you think will happen if they're no longer around to keep him in check? Do you want me to have to strike him down like I had to do you in our past lives if he loses control?"

“I regained it due to me wanting my humanity back. I worked hard for it. I earned it.” Malik was about done with the hero talking down on him. “You speak as though you aren’t without blood on your hands. So many of your past lives ended entire bloodlines due and the ramifications can still be felt today. We keep each other in check. I was kept around to keep you in check since you were a child. So don’t patronize me.”

"I know I have blood on my hands and I regret my actions. Yet, I've never been influenced by power. That's your lot. You still seek it today, and you're blind to it." Rinku shook her head. "I don't agree with this. When Chaos comes, he'll use it against you to turn you to his side and you'll end up fighting with Luimaya instead of with her. I'm out of here." The heroine tromped out of the cave, steaming. Zarazu, on the other hand, had remained silent the entire time. Thinking.

Malik couldn’t help but laugh at the old Princess. Even now, she still had a young spirit. “You’re going down to a dead end.”

As she stomped around, Ganondorf was less amused. “Rinku. You aren’t being fair here. As Zelda trusted Zarazu, I trust Malik. Please... sit.” The old king was also tired. He didn’t want to argue this point.

Rinku was done with this conversation and refused to be a part of it further. She turned around, found another tunnel, and exited the cave to prove her point and kept walking.

"Maybe we should give her some space to think as well." Zarazu suggested, trying to keep Rinku and Ganondorf from arguing again as her sister-in-law left the temple.

“She’ll have to accept it.” With Rinku gone, Ganondorf sighed. “She’s in the dark, but I know you’re no fool to Ralnor’s darker actions in protecting Hyrule, even now. And for my eldest, I wasn’t completely sure until I heard Malik show Zannah respect where Covarog couldn’t let go of it his hatred of the Hasai. That is ultimately why I choose Malik over your husband Zarazu. Malik has shed his hate.”

Malik looked softly at Zarazu, wondering what she was thinking. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

"I can understand Rinku's view and your view, because I'm trying to be fair from a standpoint." Zarazu admitted to the men. "I'm well aware that my husband has flaws. Everyone does, we're human. However, I do think you should tell Covarog why he is not getting the Tri-Force of power. I won't lie, I'm sure it will hurt him. He has been looking forward to succeeding you in being a carrier because he wants to make you proud." She then continued, "Though, if Malik has the Tri-Force, I know you trust him and I know that he has more respect for the Hasai than my husband. I cannot help but wonder if you too will be immune to the temptation of power, my oldest friend." The queen was wise, for sure, though still cautious. "Many times in history, power has corrupted... are you sure that it's temptation will not affect you like it has Ganondorf?"

“I don’t know for sure. That’s why I want my friends and family to keep me honest. To use a seat and source of power for the betterment of all people.” Malik glanced over to Ganondorf, a sudden frown on his face. “If you give me your greatest source of power, you will lose your immortality. You might not live for long.”

“Who wants to live forever? No. Not me. As for Covarog, he knows how plenty proud I am of him.”

Finally, Ganondorf stood up from his bench. “Zarazu. I want your support on this. Do you think Malik is a good man? Do you think he can wield power in the name of peace?”

"... I do believe Malik is a good man. I do believe he sincerely wants the best for our people, for the Gerudo as well. Though, as said previously, there is always temptation." Zarazu looked at her own hand. There she saw the slight glow of the Tri-Force piece of Wisdom, reminding her there were always two sides to every tale. Those years ago before Zelda's death, she entrusted the Lorleidian queen with the Tri-Force of Wisdom. She did not want her daughters to carry the burden and trusted Zarazu to keep it safe. "Though we are only human, Ganondorf. Sometimes, even I feel the slight pull of the Tri-Force, calling me to use it. To dip into that magical essence that is so pure and addictive, that I have to be careful. I resist it for the sake of my family, my friends, and my kingdom." She held up her fingers glowing with magic. "If you want my support, and my utmost trust... then I must ask that we form a bind. This way, no matter where these pieces may end up... we will not let them fight against one another again." The queen then stated. "We'll revoke this curse."

“I can agree to that. If the pieces of the Triforce, ever, ever need to come together, then it will be for a wish of healing to the people.” Malik’s breath didn’t hitch as he reached a hand out to Zarazu to shake on this sacred pact.

"Not to destroy, but for peace." Zarazu took Malik's hand. "No longer destruction, but healing."

“For love, not hatred.”

"Agreed." Zarazu used her magic to implement the contract of the binding. A ring of runes in the Lorleidian language formed on her wrist and Malik's, identical in nature. "And if we break it... we die."

Malik nodded. When finished, he seemed almost somber when he spoke. Perhaps now was the time to tell his friend. “You should know that I’m not coming back to Hyrule. This is my home. With my people. They want to elect me to the position of Gerudo King. The sworn guardian. I’ve waited to be here again since I was a boy.”

"... I know." Zarazu simply replied to her friend. "I want you to be happy. Though I must be blunt with my next question." She took a small breath and said, "When the time comes... you will still remain loyal to my daughter?"

“I will be a friend that she can rely on.”

"She will need you." Zarazu actually looked... concerned. "As much as that snake gives me the creeps, I cannot deny his magic or his status. He said it will be soon... and I am worried."

“The Triforce bearers and the sages will need to protect the world.” Ganondorf stretched out, taking a deep breath. “Are you both prepared for that?”

"I am prepared for that. I am ready to give my life if it means my family will be safe." Zarazu clasped her hands together, her gaze downcast. "I am not ready to... to sacrifice my daughter. If what Bonegrinder says is true, and... his prophecy is correct..." It was hard for her to speak the words. "I've seen what has happened to Bonegrinder's mind. It is warped. He shares two souls in one body. He is a host for a deity and no longer his original self... if that happens to my Luimaya..."

“Bonegrinder is a freak. I won’t let him or anyone else hurt your daughter Zarazu.”

"... I trust you." Zarazu sighed, still thinking of what the future could hold. "I do think you need to check on Asa, Malik. From what Nakeso overheard when she went to take your wife some food from Gail, Revan and Donoma were... disagreeing."

“It is.” Ganondorf took a few sound breaths. Opening his right palm, a feint and soft glow emerged as a small golden triangle appeared. There was no celebration of grand ceremony behind it. The earth didn’t shake, and the sky didn’t change colour. It simply appeared. Ganondorf gently handed it to Malik to hold with both hands. “Take it.”

Zarazu simply waited in slight apprehension. She did not know what would occur once Malik took the piece.

Ganondorf stepped back as his cousin held the Triforce. Malik didn’t expect it to feel so warm, like a campfire. But with a squeeze of his right fist around it, he felt his heart light in a blaze of might. The Triforce connected to him physically, mentally, and spiritually. His breath felt freer, and he felt more alive then ever. One his palm, the triangle of the Triforce emerged from nothing, looking like tattoo. The top triangle lightly glowed, signifying the merger was a success. Malik, son of the desert and blade of the Gerudo, was now the weirder of Power.

"... Malik?" Zarazu finally spoke. "Are you all right?"

"I can relate." Zarazu took a slow inhale. It seemed he was still himself... for now. Maybe the fail-safe spell was keeping everything in check. Maybe Rinku was wrong and Malik would not be corrupted. Yet, personally, though she might not admit it, Zarazu was not willing to take that chance when it came to her daughter. If he tried to use it for evil... no, it was best not to think about it.

Malik took a few moments to self reflect. With the Triforce, he felt connected to life and magic on a deeper level in a near instant. To be truthful, it suddenly became overbearing. “I think I need to sit down.”

Zarazu formed a chair of ice for him to sit upon in the cave. "... the magic is overwhelming for a new holder." The queen then offered. "I can help you channel it for a bit to get you used to it."

“Give me a moment. I just need to adjust.”

"Close your eyes and try to imagine the flow of the magic." Zarazu instructed Malik, trying to make it easier for him. "You feel it within you, within your surroundings, and others... let it talk to you."

“Cousin, imagine the Triforce as a heart within you. It beats within you as a generator of life and magic. Ease into it. Should be similar to the magic you know.”

Malik nodded, feeling deep within and focusing on himself. Over the course of five minutes the man finally felt he had control over the new weight of his soul. “I’ll be fine now.”

"All right... let's just walk slow then. We'll need to help Ganondorf."

Malik took another breath, looking down at the yellow triangle burned upon his hand. He knew in his heart of hearts this was the key to bringing glory to the Gerudo and all of Hyrule.  

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622576982282141697/the-rising-sun-ch-4-uncertain-future

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622772431507062784/the-rising-sun-ch-6-like-father-like-son

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse

[elsajeni]

Escape Route

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: They're safe. They're together. They've got a good thing going with the shuttle business. But a customer who knows too much about Kirney Slane might bring it all burning down around them...

Authors are revealed and I can own up to my SWRarepairs fic! Written for @syrena-of-the-lake​, who is maybe the only other person on earth who feels as strongly about Myn and Lara as I do.

On the ninth day, finally, Myn finds the nerve to say, "Look, I don't— I mean— I don't have other plans. For a while. For, uh, ever."

"Oh," Kirney says, and puts her mug down a little too hard, splashes caf on the table. "So. Then... you'll stay? A while?"

"A while," Myn agrees, and then risks a smile that he's sure is more of a grimace and adds, "As long as you want me, I guess."

So that works out, more or less. And he's getting the hang of the business. And most nights Kirney sits leaned up against him on the couch working on her datapad, her head resting on his shoulder, or they go out somewhere and she tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow as they walk. And once— just once, so far, but that's more than he dared expect, probably more than he deserves— she leans over the back of the couch and catches his face between her hands and kisses him, and for once, for those few long seconds, he's not thinking it can't last, it'll all fall apart sooner or later but something like it's worth it, it's worth it, it's worth it.

It's honestly unfair, considering how much time he does spend worrying about when this will all come burning down around them, that he hardly sees it coming when it finally happens.

[continue on ao3]

[1pepsiboy]

Newness (PT 1) - Colby Brock Blurb

POV: First person (Y/N)

Word count: 2163

Warnings: Colby fucking Brock, swearing, light smut

A/N: So...here’s part one of the new two parter blurb I’ve been working on for a couple weeks now. Part two definitely has more of the smut so...stay tuned babes ;)

@topthis808 ,  @j-ust-l-ive​ , @imprettysleepyhonestly​ , @themichelledavis​ , @cold-hearted-bish​ , @prettypattie , @sometimesiimaginethings​ , @i-am-just-trash-sorry , @almostelegantfire , @space-magick, @charliecynthiia 

Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged! (There’s a couple who wanna be tagged, but it won’t let me?? I’m sorry about that!) And if you wanna be tagged next time I update, just let me know! <3 

***

I adjusted my black, ribbed, criss cross front crop top that I wore with maroon, high waisted, skinny jeans and quite beat to shit, white, low-rise Converse. There was a sudden impact against my side and I stumbled a little before regaining my balance. I looked over at my giddy friend clinging onto me in a side hug.

“Hiiii Y/N.”

I laughed, reaching to brush out some of her bangs. “Hey, Jenni. How you feeling?”

She detached from me to throw her hands in the air. “I feel fantastic!”

“And how much have you had to drink?” I questioned, taking a step forward in the line for Joe’s, the main bar near campus. I’m a senior and this is my first time coming here; it’s a ritual I guess to come at least once, may as well do it now. It’s not that I don’t like to party, I’ve always sort of been against school spirit… doesn’t matter where I’m going; I was like this in high school too.

“Uhm…” She began counting on her fingers, but then gave up. “Enough so I don’t have to buy a lot here.”

I pointed a finger to my temple and then at her. “Logic.”

It’s what my other friend, Syrena, and I did, but also, she’s not 21 yet. I’m not saying I approve of underage drinking, but she’s so close and we were responsible about it.

“ID in your left hand and cash in your right!” The guy at the front door yelled.

“I don’t need the cash.” I mocked and Syrena sent me a small glare.

“Shut up, I’m almost there.”

I nodded. “Mmmhm.” I handed the girl my ID, she checked it and stamped my hand.

Syrena took my hand and guided me into the front entryway; it was slightly smaller than I was expecting to be honest. The small entryway had a pool table, then there was the only bar to the left in front of us, some high tables and stools to the right, a higher platform with seating that’s on the left, and then the dance floor was next to it.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” I stated. “Want anything?”

“Red Bull and vodka.”

I nodded and went over to the bar, resting my elbows on the counter as I waited. It was like midnight and this place was just getting started with how packed it is; the vibe felt great, not gonna lie.

“Hey, you’re Y/N.”

I looked in the direction of the voice. It was Cross, this wrestler I’ve had a couple classes with. He’s kind of cute, kind of sweet, but I don’t feel it with him. Not that I ever have with anyone.

I brushed back some of my hair. “I am, and you’re Cross.”

He laughed, licking his lips, and then did a lip bite. “Didn’t think you’d ever come here.”

“Talk about a wrong thought.” I replied, finally waving down one of the bartenders. I leaned in so he could hear me and ordered Syrena’s drink and a Malibu and Sprite. I held out a ten for the guy to take after he set down the two drinks. I picked up Syrena’s and handed it back to her as the bartender was distracted, then took my change from him and my drink.

“Nice talking.” I took a sip and held up my drink up in the air for a moment before taking a step away.

“Wait,” he reached out to grab my upper arm, “dance with me later?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.” I lightly tugged my arm from his hand and met back up with Syrena and Jenni.

Jenni somehow had another drink; it’s not like this place is 100% fool proof or checking age at the bar. “Let’s go dance!” She squealed.

I nodded. “Yeah!” I took another sip as we weaved through the kids. It got hot fast with how crowded it was in general, but the dance floor was the most infected with people. I could feel the beat of the music I didn’t know in my chest and had so much pleasure letting loose.

I ran a hand through my hair as I grinded with this random girl, feeling a layer of sticky sweat on my skin. In a normal state, it’d probably feel gross. Right now, it felt fucking amazing. I leaned back into her as her hands held my sides and a few seconds later her lips were grazing my neck. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

There was now another body up against my front and my eyes shot open to see who it was; Cross. He’s kind of ruining the girl on girl here.

“You two are so hot!” He yelled, his breath reeking of beer.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, losing my horny mood a little.

He smiled, trying to grind closer to me. “Mind if I join?”

The brunette’s hands squeezed on my sides and she yanked me ever closer, her lips actually placed some butterfly kisses on my neck before licking up and she nipped my ear. “She’s mine.”

His face deadpanned. “Are you two like a thing?”

“Yeah.” I replied, laughing. Sure we are.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.” He backed up and turned around to go find someone else.

I turned around to grind front to front with the girl and leaned in close to her ear. “Thank you!”

Her lips trailed my chin until they pressed against my lips. “Of course, baby. Girls gotta stick together.”

I was horny again. I downed the rest of my sour apple pucker and sprite and pointed towards the front. “Need to use the bathroom?”

She bit her lip as she trailed her hand down my front and placed it over my heat. She gave a small rub and nodded. A simple yes would have sufficed, damn she’s good.

I grabbed her hand and we hurried into the bathroom. I was going to check to make sure no one was in the one stall bathroom, but the girl pushed me up against the wall without warning and kissed me.

I’m fine with this.

***

“Call me later, baby.” The brunette winked, handing me my phone, and walked off.

Fuck that was amazing, but I won’t be calling her later.

I got another drink, Red Bull and vodka this time, and went to find Syrena and Jenni. They were up on the small stage, dancing. I’d lost them earlier, but it worked out. I walked through the higher platform area, stepped up onto the booth like seating, and got up onto the stage next to Jenni. I know Syrena was giving me a look, but I ignored. She knows how I am.

“Ayeee!” All of us cheered and rythemed together on display for everyone to see.

I felt hands lightly rest on my waist and pull me in. I smirked, biting my lip, and started to move my hips with whoever it was; just by the presence, it was definitely some dude.

I did any good hip movement and butt pushing into this dude’s dick area as I could. Even bent over to get a full ass shot in and snaked back up. I went slow now as the guy brought ring covered fingers to grip my hips and he moved them to my torso area, not getting too close to the breasts or vag; respect bro. When I brought my free hand to tangle into my hair, the song ended. I could finally look back to see who I’d been dancing with.

His piercing blue eyes were still looking at me as he was giving me a handsome, yet sexy smile.

I felt someone tap my shoulder so I flipped around. Syrena pointed towards the front. “I’m ready to go!”

“Don’t Stop Believin’” started to play now and I was pulled back into strong hips. Colby Brock wants to keep going with me? Oh my God, that’s unreal. I don’t even know why he’d be around here; I don’t want to question it too much.

I held up one finger. “One more song. Here, take my glass.” I chugged the rest so I’d have both hands free.

Both of us were laughing as we belted the chorus, still keeping our hips connected. But when it wasn’t the chorus, Colby was focused on getting me closer and I happily leaned back against his entire upper body, bringing both hands to run though my hair.

I felt my heart drop when the song ended, which was sort of weird feeling to me, and I knew Syrena was going to drag me out. We promised to stick together; if the other wants to leave, we both leave. I took a deep breath though and decided to shoot my shot, trying to play it cool; I’ve literally never done this before.

I turned around, keeping my body close and brought my lips to his ear, which he seemed to oblige to. “Wanna switch Instas?”

He pulled back, clapping his hands once. “Yeah!” He whipped out his phone from his back pocket and did something before handing it to me. He had his Instagram finder pulled up. Calmly as possible, I found myself and hit the follow.

Holy fuck.

He smirked into a laugh. He rested a hand on my upper arm and leaned in to rest his lips on my ear. “Hit me up later.”

His voice sent chills down my spine and I swallowed with a nod. “Okay.”

He did a lip bite smile before jumping down from the ledge and joining some unruly curly haired brunette guy; Eli, I think. I didn’t know that his friend was around here, especially not around the Burg.

“Earth to Y/N! Come on, let’s go!” Syrena yelled, obviously getting irritated from being tired.

I was on a high now and knew I’d be up for a while. I hopped over the cushion seating onto the carpet and she hooked her arm with mine. The cold rain felt good on my hot skin from all the dancing, hooking up, alcohol intake, and pounding music.

“So...was that who I thought it was?”

I looked over at Syrena as we began to power walk back to our dorm. “Uhm...I’m afraid if I say yes, it won’t actually be real.”

She laughed, small white puffs leaving her close by. “What did you talk about before we left?”

“Eh,” I dragged in a high pitched voice, brushing back some bangs, “he followed me on Insta and told me to hit him up later.”

“Later, as in tonight?” She raised her eyebrows.

I shrugged. “No idea.” She shot me a look and I shook my head. “I really don’t, but I highly doubt it.”

“Really, Y/N? You’re gonna play that game? You know everyone was watching you two, y’all had some hot shit going on. I bet you’ve already thought about fucking him.”

I snorted. “No shit. It was just the mood in the bar, and I hooked up with that gir-” I pulled my phone out for a second and stopped short. “Or maybe not...”

I showed her my message and she made a teasing face. “I was gonna go to Chuck’s anyways. The room is all yours.”

I pressed my lips together in a thin line, but excitement was rolling through my body and I couldn’t help jumping up and down. “Holy fuck!”

“Hells yeah! Look at us go!”

Getting back to the room, I looked like an absolute mess. My hair was tangled and clothes were soaked from the rain. I found a pair of black, booty short panties and disposed of everything I was wearing before putting them on. Then, without thinking, I pulled on my grey Take Chances hoodie. I brushed my hair out the best I could and then set it up into a messy bun, the bangs are just gonna have to be.

“Have you replied to him yet?”

Syrena was now in a dry pair of black joggers and a pink, long sleeve, jersey style shirt.

“Not yet. I will.”

“Good.” She smirked, eyeing my attire. “Is that all you’re gonna be wearing when he comes?”

“I don’t know...probably... It’s comfy, okay?”

She raised her eyebrows up and down. “Mmmhm. You’re not wearing a bra, are you?”

I flipped her off. “Go get your booty call.”

“I will.” She turned around, opening the front door to our small two person dorm, but we had our own private bathroom. “Get that second course, okay? Be safe though, I love you!”

“I love you too.” I called before I watched her shut the door. I picked up my phone to respond to Colby with where our room was at. Then I grabbed some saltine crackers to munch on to soak up some of the alcohol that I barely felt; I’m not even drunk, which a normal person would be with how much I had.

Next and last part.

[More stuff]

[resxrepente]

Yet again, Syrena found herself outside Thomas’ cell. Her paws on the cold ground as she wiggled her slight Cat frame through the bars and into the cell he was being held in. She usually stayed in her cat form when she came to visit him, would curl up on his lap or beside him, let him talk as she just stayed to comfort him. Sometimes, she thought it was selfish of her, that she was going more for herself, then for him, but  by the end of each night, the two would part, and he would thank her.

    Tonight was different though, tonight was his last night. Tomorrow, they would hang the man she loved. The man she couldn’t be with no matter how much she loved him. 

As she squeezed through the bars, she let out a soft meow, and he turned his head, smiling as soon as he saw her. Unlike most cats, Syrena could still cry. It was an odd sight, but as the tears began to fill her eyes, she saw Thomas reach out to her.

   "Shhh, Syrena, do not cry. Do not give them your tears.” He breathed and pet her head as she moved closer and climbed onto his lap. She wished so much that she could be in her human form right now. To be able to kiss his hands, to hold him, and just let him know that she will always love him. But they couldn’t risk it. It was a risk her being here in cat form. But a risk both were willing to take. She would just get out before they could catch her.

What hurt the most, was knowing that he was going off to be hung, for something he had nothing to do with. Witchcraft. And even though he knew she was a witch, he never once considered handing her in, to free himself. She looked up at him, with her large oval eyes. She had very cat shaped eyes at a human. So her eyes always seemed to look the same. At least, thats what Thomas had told her. As he started to stroke his fingers through her fur, she looked up at him and let out a soft Meow.

“Nothing you can do will change my fate Syrena.” He said. It was almost like he could read her mind, like he knew everything she was thinking. She sighed and lift herself, her paws resting on his chest to bring herself closer to his face.

His hands cupped her face lightly, then ran down her sides “I’m here, because I choose to protect you, to make sure you continue to live.” He breathed.

The young woman couldn’t take it, she couldn’t just sit here in Cat form and not talk to him. She climbed off his lap and moved over to the thin sheet that had been his only source of warmth when he slept. She slipped under it, and slowly the small mound grew bigger as she transformed into her human form.

“Syrena.” He said Quietly, “You can’t be seen like this.” He said, moving to her and pulling the thin sheet tighter around her, and then looking at her, his eyes softening, his hand stroking her soft pale cheek.

“I couldn’t not say goodbye Thomas.” She breathed, lifting a hand and touching his cheek lightly. The stubble prickled against her hand, where he had been unshaven for days. “I hate that they are doing this to you, because they don’t understand what I really am.” She told him. “I hate that I am losing you, because of fear mongering about something no one cares to learn about.” She added. 

   His hand moved from her cheek and entangled lightly in her hair, combing through her long blonde hair. He always seemed so amazed by her golden locks, but then again most the womens hair in this community was somewhat dry, fine, and damaged. Hers was not. It was long, soft, and had light curls. She was always envied for her hair. 

She closed her eyes and lent into his hand, wishing to always remember his touch. The way his fingers felt on her skin, the way his warmth seemed to run through her whole body, despite only touching a small area of skin.

   "Thomas, you know this is not witch craft, don’t you? You know that I’m not a devil worshipper, that my craft comes from the energy of the earth and the skies?” She questioned.

   His fingers continued to comb through her hair, his eyes watching his fingers, like he was trying to hold onto that memory " I know its not.” He assured her. “You have more good in you, then anyone else here. That is not something a Devil worshipper would be capable of.” He told her, resting her uneasy thoughts.

   His lips pressed to her forehead again, and stayed a while. "You will always be in my thoughts Syrena. In the life to come, I will always think of you, and watch over you.” He told her, as he pulled back to look at her again.

Her eyes closed, as tears ran down her cheeks “And you will always be in mine.” She told him. “I will never forget that you are here, because you wish to protect me.” She then said, opening her eyes and looking at him again. “I love you Thomas.” She then breathed.

There were now tears filling his eyes and he smiled softly. “As I you Syrena.” He whispered.

Both of them looked at the door as there was a noise from down the corridor. He looked back at her and cupped both her cheeks. "Thank you for being you tonight. But you have to change back now, you have to get out before they see you“ He whispered softly.

   A small smile graced her lips "I wouldn’t be anyone else tonight.” She whispered back, but nodded as she closed her eyes and started to shift back into her Cat form, before anyone came to check up on him, but as she shifted, tears filled her eyes even more. This was it, this was their last night.

“Syrena...” He breathed as she now sat among the blankets in her cat form. “Promise me two things..” He said.

She meowed softly, to let him know she was listening.

“Do not try and stop tomorrow, for they will only think it Devils witchcraft. Let it be, let my spirit be free from this place.” He said. She looked down, and gave a small noise to let him know she promised. She then lift her head, as if to question what the other promise was.

He smiled softly “Stay here till morning. Like this is more than enough, but please, let us just have this night.” He whispered. 

Syrena moved and curled up onto his lap, letting him know that she promised him that. She knew he wouldn’t sleep that night, and neither would she, she just needed to be here with him.

   She didn’t want the sun to rise, maybe she could find some way to stop it, but that truly would be evoking the dark magic, and then she would be proving all those people right, that Witchcraft was a sin. So instead, she just wasted their final hours, sitting on his lap, as his fingers continued to run through her fur, and he hummed to himself, almost as if he was comforting her, more than himself.

 The night seemed to go far too quickly, and soon, light started to appear through the bars of the cell window. A noise down the hall signified that it was indeed sunrise, where they would take him to be questioned once again, before finally leading him to the hanging block.

He gently lift her chin. “Go.” He breathed, looking into her eyes and lent in, kissing the top of her fur covered head. “We will be together again one day.” He whispered.

A single tear rolled down from her almond shaped eyes, her head rubbed against his hand. She was tiny against him, her face was small in his hands. Slowly she turned as the footsteps drew closer and as she slipped through the tight gap once again. Her tail had just brushed the cold metal, when she felt his fingers “I love you Syrena.” He whispered. She turned back, looking at his face, the sunlight shining off his tired weary face, and for the first time in weeks, he seemed a little lighter than he had in a long time.

She knew he would still deny it, she knew that his name would be called that morning, and that he would be marched up onto the platform. And she knew she would have to watch the man she loved, die.

  Through it all, he had kept her secret, hadn’t told a soul of who, or what she really was. Instead, he stood, innocent, having protected her from the men that convicted him.

              He stood pure and true, infront of a crowd of cowards.

  Her heart slowed as she looking straight at him, his gaze was only on hers. There was no malice in those eyes. Only Love, and kindness, and peace. His eyes were only focused on her, and he smiled softly, mouthing ‘I Love you’

  No wonder she loved this man, this true giant among the cockroaches who feared everything they could not understand. He did not deserve this fate, he did not deserve to meet the noose, nor the end, he deserved life, deserved to feel the sun on his skin, the rain on his face.

                     Not the cold earth upon his lifeless body.

  She looked up at the skies and clasped her hands together around her necklace.

  She started to mutter Latin under her breath She breathed, barely above a whisper, so no one could hear her, and only believed she uttered prayer, for forgiveness on his soul. “ut animam tuam, libera in sempiternum” In a way, it was a prayer, a prayer to make sure his soul would be free and forever. She continued to utter them quietly, her eyes still on his, as he looked at her, wondering what she may of been asking.

She wished for a way for him to live on, but knew she couldn’t stop the noose, or transform him into something else, all she could hope is that his soul would live on in her, in some way.

  She was so consumed in her words, as her eyes continued to look into his, tears filling her eyes, as he finally broke their gaze and looked up at the sun filled sky, peace in his face as he closed his eyes, accepting his fate, all to save Her.

There was a load crack, and the crowd either cheered quietly, or gasped as her beloved slipped under the platform and hung below it, neck broken. Tears filled her eyes, as her words got quicker, and her heart pounded, seeing the sight of him body, lifeless. She fell to her knees, her tears turning into Sobs as she continued to utter her words, her thoughts wishing she could bring him back to life.

She closed her eyes and continued to utter her words through her sobs, her voice a little louder as she asked for his soul to be free over and over again. She hadn’t noticed the sky darken at first, hadn’t noticed the thick clouds that seemed to consume the light that had once filled the sky. It was only when she heard the loud crack of Thunder, and the gasps of the those who came to see a hanging, that she realised mother Nature was finding a way to answer her silent prayer. she jumped and looked at the gallows, at her beloved. Body hung limp, feet dangling. He really was gone. No life clung to that body no more. She screamed as rain poured down from the thick clouds, Thunder and lightening echoed as people began to scream and look at her.

  Her heart felt like it had stopped, like everything she had ever gone through no longer matter, for she failed the one thing she truly desired to fulfil, to be with Thomas.

“Your Souls are dammed for killing an innocent man.” She shouted, looking at the people who were looking up at the sky and screaming, fleeing from the scene. It was like God had come to punish them.

Was it God? Was it Her? She wasn’t sure. Her mentor once told her that Witches could connect with the elements. That their souls could control them. Was that what was happening here? Was her sorrow being reflected in the strange turn of weather?

She looked at the body once again, eyes red and sore, wishing that she could take him down, lay him peacefully on the ground, as a large clap of lightening struck the rope, and his body dropped to the floor. 

Syrena ran to the body, and she touched his cheek, still warm, but the life truly was gone. She rest her head on his chest. “I’m Sorry Thomas, I am so sorry I couldn’t save you.” She sobbed, her hands clutching his clothes as she sobbed over him, wishing his life to return, so they could run off together. But she knew she couldn’t, she wasn’t that powerful.

But it seemed the weather seemed to disagree with her power. It was almost pitch black, and soon it was silent. The thunder stopped, the lightening stopped, the ran stopped. It was just black.

“We will be together again one day.” She breathed, lifting her head and stroking his face. She removed the rope from his neck, moved his arms so his hands rest lightly on his chest, and positioned him in a more peaceful posture.

“Promise me, you will never leave me.” She whispered, leaning in and kissing his forehead.

Soon the shouts started again, people crying in fear, cursing one another, and begging God for forgiveness, begging for their souls. If only they saw the truth before now, if only they didn’t hang the man she loved. With one more final kiss, in the thick blackness, she transformed into her cat form, her clothes pooling beside Thomas’ lifeless body, as she ran on all fours as fast as she could, wanting to get away from the people she could never forgive or trust again. It wouldn’t be long before they turned on another in violence, and she didn’t want to be here when that happened.

She stopped by a tree, and glanced back at him 

                                                ‘we will find a way to be together again, my love.’

@parallellives

[thepilgrimofwar]

Night on the Town

Amongst the mess of cabins and ships turned buildings of Booty Bay, was an inn that stood high above all others. Made from a hollowed ship and its hold stacked upon each other, it was not only the tallest inn this side of the continent, but also the most expensive. Not to mention the longest lines outside for the restaurant.

“I’ve booked us tables that overlook the city,” Renneth said as he walked past angry bystanders as he skipped the queue with his lady. “Seafood is said to be sublime, and not just the ones that are sourced nearby, but even the ones caught offshore and are delivered on arcanic ice.” Goblin bouncers who stood at the entrance parted, and they entered into a hall that had once been a cargo hold.

“Welcome, welcome,” greeted an overweight goblin who had come to personally greet them. For him, time was money and they had plenty of both. “Thought I’d come to see for myself the moguls who could afford to reserve all the deck seats.”

“My lady here hates crowds,” Renneth said with a smile.

“Is that so? Well, you’ll find no crowds on the deck you booked- They’re all outside,” the Goblin snorted. “Ranny Glintlitter, at your service.”

“Renneth Duskslayer,” he nodded.

“And who might this lovely lady friend of yours be?”

“Syerena Skyshatter.” She grinned, the expression truly uncanny on her face. Syerena towered over the goblin, standing barely two inches shorter than Reneth and just as broad. Her dress was clearly tailored just for her, managing to flatter even her muscular and decidedly unfeminine physique. The crimson silks (spun and sewn by the best leper gnomes in Silvermoon) were accentuated by silver thread and dripping with gems, a true testament to her affluence. While this may have earned her perhaps a second glance, it was her face that truly turned heads. 'A sight in silks’ would have been a good descriptor, though in this case 'sight’ would have meant monster. Her left cheek was a ruin of scar tissue and gnarled flesh, and her ears, or rather, what was left of them, were hardly any better. Even the jewels that hung from her earlobes and her perfectly coiffed hair could not hide it, merely accentuating the jarring disconnect.

“I trust you received your payment without any problems?”

“No problems at all, hence the V.I.P welcome!” Ranny bowed and began showing them to the stairway that snaked up into the rest of the stacked ship. There he led them through a crowded bar area where it was business as usual, serving sailors, marines, and pirates alike. Then, through gilded doors that had once served as doors to the captain’s quarters, they came out onto the what used to be the main deck. There, a private kitchen where the helm used to be overlooked tables, all lit with candles. “Your seats.” The goblin host led them to the bow of the ship, where they could look out to all the lights of Booty Bay below. “Menus.” Ranny snapped his fingers and waiters appeared, placing expensive looking clipboards into their hands. “Holler if you need anything. I make sure my well-paying guests are well-taken care of.” With that, he left them alone, heading to the helm to speak with the chefs who waited for their orders.

“I hear the Highmountain Salmon is good,” Reneth said as he smiled. “You’re definitely a head turner today, you had the entire queue outside virtually livid.”

“Of course. If they'd wanted the place to themselves like us they should have gotten in before we did.” Laughing, she picked up a champagne flute, generously poured before they had even sat down. “Why don't you order for me? You know what I like “

“That’ll be a Highmountain Salmon with a Eversong Wine reduction for you, and a Rainbow Trout with cream sauce for me. We’ll order deserts later after we’ve finished emptying half the bar downstairs,” Renneth raises his hand to call for a waiter, but there was already one nearby his table. After all the poor man had no other tables to worry about. He places their orders and then looks out over the scenery below. “Well, got to give it to the Goblins. Trust them to come up with a place like this. Trust them to pull every connection they have to source for everything. Did you see, they even have Riverbeast meat from New Draenor.”

“Well, all you really need is money to spare and a mage on the other side who can get you what you want. If you wanted that I could probably find a way to get it delivered to the house.”

Renneth laughed. “I’d believe it.” He looked at her and marvelled at her in the candlelight. “So plans for the week? Shopping? Travel?” Renneth pauses for a moment. “Brawling? It’s been a good long while since we got into a proper scuffle.”

“Hmmm,” Syerena tilted her head, twisting one of the smaller earrings that studded her ears. “I was thinking we could go to the beach. Not here of course, somewhere a little more interesting. Zandalar is nice this time of year, I've heard.”

“So I’ve heard, they’ve opened the city to the Horde now, so you’ll get quite a collection of characters there. But that sounds good, I’ve always wanted to try a dinosaur steak,” their food was ready, such was the case when you had an entire kitchen to your beck and call. Fresh from the oven and appropriately seasoned and garnished, it smelled delicious. “Speaking of Zandalar, I hear a river tour in Nazmir would be pretty exciting. Non-lethal if you bring the right crew with you.”

“But where's the fun in that?” Grinning, she cut into the fish in front of her, perfectly flaky and smelling heavenly.

“Okay, slightly lethal then,” he laughed. They enjoy dinner by the bay, after they were done with their food, they drank their wine as a fog settled across the bay. “So, want to hit the bar and then come back up here for dessert?”

He led her inside, settling at the crowded bar where he ordered two bourbon whiskeys. Almost as if he could read Syrena’s mind.

“Oh you certainly know how to treat a lady,” leaning into him, she curled one arm around his waist, smiling around the lip of the glass. There she was content to stay, eyes roving over the rest of the bars patrons, watching as the rest of the less loaded denizens of the bay enjoyed themselves.

She could see that there were a particularly large number of Kul’tiran sailors there. A ship must have docked in the bay after an expedition in the Southseas, called back to port for one reason or another.

“Of course, and you’re quite the lady,” he pulled her in close as he clinked his glass against hers and knocked his drink back. “Even killers need to be treated right.”

“-put up quite a fight in Sundiail Anchorage.”

Renneth’s ears twitched, and he gave Syrena a look, nudging his head in the direction of a nearby table of sailors.

“-took quite a beating on Sunstrider, but we smashed them in turn. All we need to do now is keep them blockaded and let winter starve them out.”

“Winter?” He mouthed at her. There was no doubt in his mind that they were talking about Quel’thalas, but winter was an impossibility.

Syerena's expressions darkened immediately at the mention of her home, the context all too clear to her. She shoves her way through the throng of people to the table, clapping one hand onto the shoulder of the speaker and squeezing. Hard.

“What did you say about Sunstrider?”

“Get your hand off me, you ugly bitch” the Kul’tiran sailor attempted to remove her hand. His companions at the table rose to their feet, hands on their weapons. When he discovered when he couldn’t he looked up at her. “And what’s it to you eh? Feeling patriotic today?” He glanced at his friends who were all ready to strike.

Renneth burst through the crowd who had begun to swarm towards the commotion. “I’m sorry, excuse our manners, we’re just curious about the state of our home. Invaded? By the likes of you?”

“You might want to call off your lady friend here,” said one of the other sailors. “You strike one of us, you strike all of us.”

Renneth looks about to the rest of the bar, and saw that half of the gathering crowd had Kul’tiran emblems and insignias on their uniforms and tabards.

Syerena's merely laughed, a short ugly sound. “That's cute that you think they're going to be any help to you at all.”

In a flash she had grabbed the man's eating knife, burying it up to the hilt in his neck before wrenching it out with a violent twist. Shoving his gasping body to the side, she grabbed the edge of the table, heaving it up and into the occupants across from her. So much for not getting into any scuffles.

Renneth groaned as the bar exploded into violence, starting with Syrena’s first kill. Without a second thought, he picked up a chair and used it to club the nearest Kul’tiran he could find and charged a crewmate that was aiming his pistol at him, pinning him to the ground. “I. Just. Wanted. A. Nice. Night. Out,” he yelled after each strike.

Decent customers screamed, rushing for the door as crew members shoved their way up the stairs towards their companions. Meanwhile other pirates, sailors and other brawlers had begun fighting everyone else. It was chaos.

Picking up half a table and using it as both a shield and a giant blade, he then leaped to the stairway and shieldbashed a Kul’tiran into a dozen of others making their way up the stairs.

“Weren't you just saying it had been a while since we had a good brawl?” Syerena cackled as she leapt over the fallen table, tearing her bejeweled silks all the way to her thigh. Dodging under the swing of a cutlass, she grabbed its owner, using him as a shield against a pistol blast before shoving his corpse away from her. With a grunt of effort, the bent down to rip off two of the thick table legs, wielding each of them as a giant club in each hand, a demon in her ripped and bloodstained dress, bloodlust bright and shining in her eyes.

Here in the Bay, she cared little for the collateral damage. After all, everything there had a price, and she had plenty of money to buy it all. She saw the blade a second too late, blocking it with her arm, savouring the moment on the sailor's face as triumph turned to horror when it did not faze her, her makeshift weapons putting an end to the poor soul just another second later. Roaring a challenge, she dived straight back into the throng of Kul'tirans, a sick grin on her face.

“A planned one!” He retorted, rushing down the stairs and sending crewmembers tumbling down, misfiring pistols in surprise. “One that does not involve taking on over a hundred to two ratio!” Renneth peeked over the edge of the stairs where the rest of the crew was getting up. It seemed that Ranny had gotten wind of the situation and his bouncers were joining in the fight, coming to the defence of his best paying customers. It brought a smile to his lips. He picked up a fallen cutlass and kept his table-shield, using it to bash his way back to Syrena. “Not that it isn’t a pleasure fighting by your side,” he gave her a winning smile as the dozen or so Kul’tirans who managed to get in began yelling up the stairs to them.

Syerena beamed back up at him, blocking another shot with the table leg and blowing Reneth a kiss. She then slammed the leg into the man charging for her, letting go when it shattered against his skull. Grabbing the next in line to die, she slammed his neck down onto the chair beside her, hearing the satisfying snap of bone.

“I think we're going to need to postpone those vacation plans. I think it might be high time we paid a visit back home.”

“Absolutely,” he impaled a sailor with the cutlass he had gotten, and then swung his shield like a blade, decking the remaining Kul’tirans who had finally gotten to the top of the stairs. “Sounded like they needed us, though,” Renneth paused, looking at the rest of the brawl that was purposefully avoiding them now that the Kul’tirans were taken care of. “We should probably go shopping to prepare for some winter combat. Just hope it’s not another Wintergrasp.”

Stepping daintily over the pile of bodies at her feet, Syerena ascended the stairs to Reneth, curling her arm around his waist again. “Anything you could possibly want my dear. They couldn't kill us then, and they certainly won't be able to now.”

Lifting a hand, she brushed away some of the blood that spattered her scarred features. “Now then, I think I'm ready for dessert.”

Art by 6kart

@retributionpriest @felthier @thesunguardmg

Renneth P-Class: Bladelord Syrena P-Class: Warbringer

[hayjeon]

can i request a mermaid x pirate au where pirate member found mermaid oc who just recently lost her tail? 👉🏻👈🏻

oooooo here’s a quick little drabble ;) I might continue this as time goes on! feel free to request specific drabbles with these two! loosely based off of sam and syrena from pirates of the caribbean. 

“Please,” you stammer, shivering in the biting cold air that whips around your shoulders. The storm rages on behind you, churning the water around your waist and splashing onto Captain Park’s legs. He glares down at you in the darkness, his eyes lifeless and unbudging at your pleas. “P-please let me go.” 

He crouches down slowly, bringing him eye level with you, wrists tied to the stake the was driven into the ground next to the pool you were submerged in waist-down. His eyes rake down your body, moving past the long tendrils of hair that curl down your back and chest to the nakedness of your legs, the obvious lack of a tail. 

“Why won’t you turn?” He says lowly. “You’re supposed to turn when you’re placed in sea water.” His eyebrow sets hard and his jaw clenched. You frown. Pleading with this man would not save your life. 

“I lost my tail.” You hiss at him, giving up the facade of a weak maiden and instead baring your true colors. “You son of a bitch, what do you still want with me?! Let me go!” 

His eyebrow lifts, a smirk curling in his lips. He turns his head and sweeps a hand across the other pools surrounding you and his crew. You can see even in the darkness that each small pool was connected to the ocean by a lagoon. Next to each one was a tall wooden stake driven through the ground, close enough to encase the wrists of other mermaids who were murdered here. Suspended half in and out of the water, left to suffocate of thirst and fear and fatigue. “Don’t you see your sisters? Hear their screams as they were left out here to desiccate, just because all of you were too proud to let go of one tear? Just one tear would have granted a man the access to have power over the sea.” 

You glare at him, struggling against your ties. Your wrists are rubbed raw. “You’ll never get a worthy tear anyway! Let me go!” 

He snaps down to you. “What?” He snarls.

“When I don’t have a tail, I’m not a mermaid.” You grit out, glaring up at him.  “That is our curse. We don’t belong anywhere. So whether or not you get a tear from me for your stupid myth, it wont work! Let me go!!” 

He glares at you hard for a second and motions to one of his men, an old man whose hair is completely white strides up to the captain, and he lowly says, “The girl speaks the truth. Her tears no longer have the power to lead you to Poseidon’s Trident, unless she finds her tail.” 

One of Jimin’s men speaks up. “S-sir, we lost s-so many men trying to catch this one girl, we cannot afford to go hunt for another one. Not unless we sail back to try and find more men to help us.” 

Jimin shuts him up with a glare. “Do you think her sisters will bode well with us having her on our ship? They’ll lure us to our death with their songs, and even if we manage to survive that, they’ll rock our boat and tip it to our death and rip us apart.” 

You snarl at him, baring your teeth. “At least you know, mortal. They’ll hunt you down.” 

He ignores you, thinking hard. “Do you think news of our loss would have already traveled to the docks?” 

His right-hand man nods, “Yes sir. News travels fast, and they probably saw evidence of our distress calls. It’s useless returning, for no man would trade in their life to catch another one of these demon creatures.” With that the men look at you with looks of fear and disgust, and you return them with a sharp hiss and a show of your teeth. One mad shudders and takes a few steps back. 

Jimin cracks his neck, before turning sharply and striding over to you. 

“Where is your tail?” He’s inches from your face, and you can see that once, this pirate was a handsome man, full of life and love. Such a shame. He had become one of the most ruthless men on the sea. 

“I don’t know.” You grit, “I lost it when you men wrapped me in your stupid nets. By now, the currents would have carried it too far for you to find again.” 

“You know where the currents end up. Which coast do we have to go to find it?” 

“The third gyre, off the coast of Pearl Canyon. The winds are strong, so if your net was caught in that current, then it should wind up somewhere off that coast in a matter of days to a week, which would be—” 

“–Exactly how long it takes to sail there.” He finishes for you. Eyes hardening, he grabs your hair at the roots, causing you to cry out and glare up at him. “If you’re lying, I will tear you to shreds.” 

He lets you go and you shudder as you strain against the ropes binding your wrists to the stake, your breath catching in your throat. 

As he leaves, he turns, meeting your fearful gaze from behind your hair. He mutters to his men, “Get her some clothes. She sleeps in my quarters tonight.” 

--> part 02