#protect wren at all cost? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

draguta · 1 year ago

Text

.a court of fate and fortune | twenty-four.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: violence

chapter word count: 5019

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Wyvern

Leif was eerily quiet. The usually busy village, sat South-East of the Manor, close to the Wall, was now silent, save for the howling of the wind through empty streets, the rattling of window shutters as that same breeze past them by, left open in the rush as the villagers ran for cover, and the thumping footsteps of the Wyvern.

You’d never seen a Wyvern before. You remembered reading about them once, in the books from Tamlin’s library when you were trying to find out anything you could about your powers. Had found detailed drawings and descriptions of them in that worn copy of ‘Old Magic of Prythian’. You knew enough to know that they had been created by a High Fae centuries ago, during the First War, to use in the battle against the humans and human-sympathisers, but they had been too unruly, too wild, and had been set free to roam and breed in the mountains of the Night Court as they wished, drawn to the cold and the isolation that those mountains provided.

How one had made its way all the way to the Spring Court, you weren’t sure.

Even the amount that you had read about them could never have prepared you for the sight of it before you.

You’d begged Lucien to take you with him, had practically fallen to your knees the second you had all left Tamlin’s study, and left the High Lord behind as well. Yet, he’d been more than willing.

“I wasn’t planning to leave without you,” he’d said, a small glint of pride in his eyes; pride that you would want to help, that you were willing to put yourself in danger to protect the people of this court, even if the High Lord himself would not. Perhaps if circumstances had been different - if Tamlin had agreed to send aid - neither of you would be willing to let you go there to face such a creature. But as the situation stood, they needed all the help they could get. “Just…don't use your powers there. The villages are old-fashioned, and I don't think they'd appreciate...dark magic. And try not to get yourself hurt, and definitely not killed.”

Silas had disappeared whilst you and Lucien had gone to his room, decking yourselves in plenty of weapons; you yourself had two twin swords strapped to your back in a similar fashion to how you had seen Cassian wear his blades, three daggers strapped to your thighs and a sword in your belt, as well as one small blade, no bigger than a letter opener, tucked into your boot as a last resort. Lucien had resorted to his sword, bejewelled dagger, and a bow and quiver of arrows.

When you met Silas outside, he had a handful of recruits, some faces that you didn’t recognise, led by Wren and Rhyder, each of them dressed in their armour, ready for battle. And then you winnowed, Silas gripping Wren’s hand, Rhyder taking the two other sentinels, and Lucien gripping your own hand tightly.

You were sure you saw the figure of Tamlin watching through the window.

Your boots hit slowly and carefully against the dirt-road that led through the village of Leif. Candles were extinguished inside the houses that you passed, the smoke curling and coiling into the air and out through the cracked windows - anything to keep the Wyvern from knowing their location. Lucien paused at the corner of a tavern named, ‘The Smoking Dragon’, much to the irony of the situation, and glanced over his shoulder, glossy locks of hair, tied back in a low braided bun at the nape of his neck, casting orange and auburn hues against the green of his tunic. He raised a hand and lowered it swiftly in a motion that said, ‘stay low’. Neither you nor the sentinels deigned to disobey.

He peered around the corner once, his shoulders stiffening enough that you had to fight the urge to reach forward and squeeze his hand in reassurance. He glanced back, looking over your shoulder to Silas and the other sentinels. One point at Wren and Rhyder and a point to the left, and then at the other two and a point to the right; they were to spread out, surround the area where the Wyvern was, and attack from all sides. From Lucien’s silent command, Silas would take the far side, directly opposite, whilst you and Lucien would attack from your current vantage point.

The sentinels scattered, each staying as low and silent as the mid-morning allowed. Lucien swallowed, hand on the hilt of his sword, as his eyes landed on you.

“This is going to be difficult,” he said slowly. “Wyverns are notoriously tricky to take down. When we’re out there…I never want to stop you, Y/N. If you want to fight, then you can fight. But I can’t protect you out there, not when I’m trying to protect this whole village.”

You nodded, understanding what he was trying to say, even if he was skirting around his point. That he wanted you to be safe, but that you couldn’t be his responsibility once you were both out there, facing down that creature. You couldn’t be a burden to him. “You can trust me to protect myself, Lucien. You won’t need to worry about me out there.”

He drew in a shuddering breath, nodding once, almost as if to reassure himself that was the case. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning in to place a warming, soft kiss to your forehead; that kiss alone gave you enough strength to know that you’d both make it through this without a problem. You weren’t nervous, not in the slightest, until-

Sliding the two swords from your back, you slipped around the corner, tucked in tight behind Lucien. The great snarling beast was five times the size of a horse - the largest creature you had ever seen. Large yellowed fangs protruded from a grizzling mouth set below slitted nostrils and beady yellow eyes. Claws sharper and longer than Tamlins poked from the ends of its padded feet, the black scales that coated its entire body blanketed the part where snake-like skin met smooth, onyx-like claws. It’s leathery wings reminded you of your friends back in Velaris, but where Rhys, Cass, and Az’s wings were beautiful, like the point where night turned to day when the sun shone through them, hueing them a shade of purplish-red that you wished you could bottle to gift Feyre for her paintings, these were solid black, no light or hope amongst the darkness.

The sight brought a chill up your spine, one that made you shudder despite the warmth of the day.

The two of you trailed the outskirts of the tavern, keeping to the shadows that the buildings provided, out of the eyeline of the Wyvern. It snarled and spread its wings as it canvassed the area - what you presumed was a marketplace of some sort - searching for any poor soul that hadn’t made it to sanctuary in time. But there was no sign of life save for the single solitary candle sat in the front-facing window of the abandoned tavern, with the patrons and landlord no doubt having run to the back seaking cover.

Lucien pulled the bow from where it sat on his back, the string wrapped around his chest. Silas crouched low across from us outside a bakery as you made base in the empty porch doorway of the tavern. Wren and Rhyder appeared on the far left between a set of houses, and their brothers-in-arms from the right down what looked to be a back alley. They were all poised, ready to strike. As were you.

You held one sword in each hand, their weight heavy in your palms as you awaited Lucien’s signal. But he had a different plan.

A nod to Silas on the far side of the marketplace had the commander throwing a hand up to the other two teams, telling them to wait as he pulled his own bow from his back and sheathed an arrow in its string.

In almost perfect sync, he and Lucien raised their bows, one arrow aimed at each of the Wyvern’s eyes; if their aim was precise enough they could bring the creature to its knees in only one blow, making its death easier to conquer for the rest of us.

You couldn’t help but allow your eyes to drift to Lucien, even as the Wyvern’s long, spiked tail slashed and smashed at the buildings nearby Wren and Rhyder. Even as they ducked and rolled out of the way, narrowly missing being hit by falling debris, a shriek sounding from a female somewhere inside. Lucien looked like one of the paintings she had once seen in Tamlin’s gallery, fearsome and heroic. No longer was he the snarky emissary, the proud and caring lover. This was a side of Lucien that you had not seen before.

A thin coat of sweat from the stress and pressure of that bow held tightly in his grip sheened across his forehead, dripping from his brow and marking his golden skin with a glorious sleek shimmer, almost like the drips of water as it melted from the edges of ice. His red-hair seemed even more fiery, the same stark colour as the very centre of that candle flickering in the open window behind you. His face was set in determination, his brow low and lips pulled in between his teeth into a thin line that echoed that curve of the bowstring. And those eyes that you had stated into so many times, that you had seen burn and simmer with the entails of release - of pure pleasure - now showed no signs of that male that you took to your bed each night. Now they only showed the warrior that he had trained to be, had spent so many hours in the Autumn Court during his youth, no doubt, honing to perfection.

He was…glorious.

Every inch of him, in that split second that he sheathed his arrow and raised it before him, pulled back to meet his brow, was godly. He was like one of those male figures cut from Tamlin’s gallery, the strong heroes that saved the damsel and claimed his reward. The ones who had fought alongside the Old Gods, should legends be believed, and moved from memory, to story, to myth, to legend. Perhaps Lucien would go down in legend…

His finger pulled away and the bowstring snapped as it hauled the arrow forward at a pace so fast you almost couldn’t see it as it whooshed through the air, hitting its mark perfectly. The Wyvern screeched in pain, thrashing uncontrollably, those wings flaring in anger to span the entirety of the marketplace, blocking your sight of Silas, Wren, and Rhyder. The sound was almost unbearable, a blood-curdling wail that echoed through the silent village, bounced off the rolling hills to travel further and beyond, likely reaching to even the Wall itself.

Lucien had hit it directly in the eye, that black slit of a pupil in the centre now no more than a bloody cavernous hole where an eye had once been. The yellow of its iris was stained red.

Another screech that sounded like nails against a chalkboard, and you knew without seeing him that Silas’ arrow had been let loose. But when the blow hit and the Wyvern’s head thrust to the side…the arrow hadn’t hit its mark, piercing the Wyvern just below its sharp, lengthy cheekbone.

“Shit,” Lucien muttered under his breath. The Wyvern had been injured, but not enough that the few swords that your forces carried on you might be able to bring it down alone. The bow was thrown to the side, and Lucien reached for his sword, turning to look at you, face grave. “We don’t have a choice.”

“I know,” was all you said in response, your grip on your swords tightening.

“We go it together,” he said, metal eye whirring as if it were somehow scanning the marketplace - the Wyvern itself - for possible strategies, all whilst he focused his attention on you. “And we make it out together.”

It took all of your strength not to lean up and kiss him right there. Instead, you simply nodded once, a determined grin on your face. “Together,” you confirmed. He smirked, hitting the side of his sword against the one in your right hand, the soft ‘clang’ barely audible over the shrieks of the Wyvern.

And together you went, Lucien leading the charge, you flanking him from behind. The pair of you were like shadows as you approached the creature; its enormity alone was enough to make the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention as you peered up at it, its form seemingly growing bigger and bigger the closer you got to it.

“Aim for the wings,” Lucien said over his shoulder as the pair of you neared the creature. “That way it’ll be grounded and can’t fly away and come back to terrorise us another day. And whatever you do, avoid the tail.”

For you realised, as he said that and the great tail of the creature swung high over your heads, that the end was pointed; small barbed spikes trailed along three sides until they reached one great sword-like tip at the very end. And that final point was a different colour to the others that sat in a dark, midnight black; it was tainted a coruscate of deep, shimmering blue. The same colour as the sky above Velaris when the night clouds rolled in over the wards that Rhys had set in place to keep the city safe from attack.

Poison.

Silas mirrored our movements across the marketplace from us, pausing in the same place as we did, right below the point where the clawed tip of the Wyvern’s wing shadowed against the cobblestoned ground. That spiked tail flew over your heads, and you and Lucien ducked, the wind whooshing around you as it shaded you for no more than a second.

From the corner of your eye you caught sight of Wren and Rhyder approaching the Wyvern’s right foot, swords at the ready, and somehow you saw the entire plan play out before your eyes. Knew, without having to ask, exactly what your strategy was. As, it seemed, the sentinels did too.

In perfect synchronicity the two sentinels poised at the Wyvern’s left foot, and Wren and Rhyder, lowered their swords in a slick blow to the Wyvern’s ankles. The creature howled in pain, its forked tongue slithering from between its fangs in an aggressive hiss; a warning to whomever was brave enough to attempt to take the Wyvern on. Its wings on each side dropped to the ground in a strive to block and protect its two taloned feet; that was your chance.

Your blade slid through the leathery skin of the Wyvern’s wing with such ease, like a knife sliding through parchment, or an Illyrian shooting through the clouds. Such ease that it almost startled you.

Two gaping holes across its right wing. One across its left, courtesy of Silas. The Wyvern was grounded.

But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t still put up a fight.

That tail whooshed again, striking a heavy blow against Wren and Rhyder who had been ducking free of the heavy wings. They flew back, the hit hard enough to have them hitting against the ground a good ten feet away, heavy and harsh. Their grunts and pants of pain echoed around the marketplace.

Even as your eyes fell on Silas rushing to their aid, to that tail swinging directly toward him, to the deathly point delivering a fatal blow to his stomach. His tunic stained red beneath his armour as he dropped to his knees, a tinge of blue poison mingling with his scarlet blood. His face paled in an instant, eyes glassy even from your view on the far side of the marketplace.

Your feet moved instantaneously, urging you to go to him, to help him. But Lucien’s hand gripped around your wrist, pulling you back, and when you turned to look at him with incredulity, his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking. ‘Not now,’ they seemed to say. ‘We’ll go to him after.’

After the Wyvern’s demise.

The tail whooshed again, followed by a thunderous ‘clap’ as the Wyvern’s wing rose toward the skies and slammed back down on the cobblestone, enough to throw you off balance, falling back against the ground with a hard smack to the back of your head. Burning pain rushed to the wound that was no doubt there now, but you brushed it off, ignored it, eyes scanning the marketplace. Lucien was no longer at your side, thrown back himself and hauled back on the other side of the wing, closer to that deadly tail.

The tail swirled in the air again, and it was all Lucien could do to roll out of its way, further away from you. You had to do something, had to move - fast. The Wyvern’s whirled its tail again, lunging for Lucien, who was knocked off kilter to the ground once more; fear flashed in his eyes.

You didn’t stop to think, not as you ran - not toward the Wyvern, but away from it - grabbing an old wooden beam that had been knocked to the ground amongst the debris left from the Wyvern’s attack, racing back toward the tavern. There was a candle there, somehow still lit and flickering in the window, the flame wafting with every whoosh of the Wyvern’s tail and wings. As you ran, you pulled at the hem of your tunic, ripping enough that it would cover the end of the beam, wrapping it around and around until you finally came skidding to a halt at the door of the tavern, right where that window lay open, one shutter blown closed, the other creaking in the breeze.

Holding the wrapped end of the beam in the candle, you watched as the flames caught alight, eating away at the cloth, curling and burning it, the once blue ripped shreds turning black under the heat. You slid your swords back into their holsters on your back - they weren’t needed, not right at this second - and kicked open the door to the tavern with the sole of your boot.

The air inside smelt of stale ale and cooked stew, but it was tainted with something else - fear. There were no people there, you ascertained, eyes scanning the overturned tables, knocked over stools, and abandoned mugs on the tables as you swiftly made your way through to the back, to where you assumed the stairs would be.

You were right, an old, narrow, and rather rickety stairway was tucked behind the bar, leading to the upper levels. The torch lit the way, faelights on the walls long-since dulled to nothing.

The room upstairs that you found yourself in was large, a communal sitting area of some sort that led off to a hallway at the back that no doubt housed the inn’s rooms. A small whimper sounded from the corner, and you whirled around, eyes landing first on a small fae child curled on the floor, and then on the others behind her. Patrons of the tavern downstairs, fae rooming in the inn, landlords of the building, all huddled together in one corner, a mixture of different fae, from winged, to blue-skinned, to High Fae that looked as if they came from different courts. They shook and trembled with fear, each of them watching you wide-eyed and terrified.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “We’re here to help. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Only that young girl at the front - the child - nodded.

Then you turned with such determination that it almost shocked you. An open window at the far end of the room, one that would look out across the entire marketplace; the perfect spot. You didn’t have a plan, not really, just the outline of an idea, but it was the best you were going to get at this point. You prised open the shutters, and the sight that beheld you almost made your knees buckle.

You were at eye-level with the Wyvern, those bloody gouges where its eyes had once been still holding the two Spring Court arrows in place, each one marked with the green of their court. You could see the drool that snarled from the tips of its fangs, could make out every scale on its body, thick like armour.

You only had one shot; one chance.

Legs trembling, you clambered onto the window ledge, leaning as far out as you could, torch blazing in your hand. Your eyes fell to Lucien, who had staggered his way to the edge of the marketplace, now gazing up at you, face pale white. But you didn’t stop, didn’t let his shock nor the fear that swirled in your stomach stop you.

The torch lingered near the slitted nostrils of the Wyvern, and it paused, its thrashing coming to a momentary stop as it felt the heat upon its skin. It was working.

“That’s it,” you whispered, as if speaking to the creature itself. “Follow the heat.”

The last few senses the Wyvern still had; temperature and smell. It followed both of them, leaning toward the fire as if trying to assess whether it was a comfort or a threat. And then, with one hand on the hilt of one of the swords strapped to your back, you bent your knees and used every ounce of strength you had to throw the torch into the skies.

Seconds. You had mere seconds. One step back. Sword drawn from its sheath. In a run, you leapt from the window, just as the Wyvern’s head turned upward to follow the heat of the blazing torch. Sword stretched above your head, you pierced the creature at the top of its long, scaled neck, your slight run before your jump providing enough momentum to tear through the armoured scales. The creature shrieked, writhing and gyrating beneath you as your sword slid, you along with it, down the length of its neck, blood splattering against the cobblestones, across your face and body, as you went. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the guts and innards that were escaping through that gaping hole.

You didn’t open them again until you reached the point where neck turned to ribcage, your sword getting stuck on the upper bones. One push with your feet against the creature’s chest had your sword flinging from its body, hauling you back and onto the ground below. You yelped at the sharp pain that flooded though your every bone as you collided with the cobblestones.

The creature shrieked once more, legs collapsing, and it was with great effort that you were able to shuffle out of the way as the creature fell to the ground, unmoving and unbreathing.

The silence that followed was deafening. The Wyvern was dead.

Faces began to peer from the windows and doors, heads poking up here and there, whispering to the others that the coast was clear. That the High Lord’s sister had saved them. That the Queen Killer had saved them.

But your eyes were on the corpse of the Wyvern. Were drifting to the pale form of Silas, hunched against the cobblestones on the far side of the marketplace. On the sentinels that surrounded him.

“Get him back to the manor!” Lucien’s voice called from somewhere, and a moment later he came into view. He was clutching his rib as his other hand came down to rest on your shoulder, eyes scanning your body, trying to find any wounds, trying to discern what was the Wyvern’s blood and what was yours.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, exhaustion already interweaving with the words. Your sword dropped from your hand with a clatter, just as doors began to swing open, and locals began making their way over to you. “I’m okay,” you said again, although it was almost more to reassure yourself of that fact than Lucien. “Silas-”

“Will be fine, if we can get him back to the manor in time,” he said, hand falling to wrap around your own, hauling you to wobbly feet. “We’ll have a healer look over him. He’ll be healed in no time, I’m sure.”

Then a hand clapped your back, and you turned to find faces staring at you - watching you with awe. The villagers cocooned themselves around you, pressing close to you, strings of ‘Thanks yous’ and ‘The Mother bless you’ echoing in your ears. You stepped back, pressing your back to Lucien’s chest, just as the whisperings of ‘Cauldron sent’ and ‘Queen Killer’ began to find their way back to you from the crowd.

It was too much. Too much like…like Under the Mountain. Like that night after you had killed Amarantha, when those that had been trapped there with you looked at you with awe, looked at you as if you had truly been sent by the Cauldron.

“Take me home,” you whispered, words that you had once asked Lucien before, in that aftermath so many months ago, echoed once again. “Please, take me home.”

Lucien’s brows pinched, but he nodded once, hand tightening around your own as you were swallowed by an Autumn swept fog, wrapping around you both, one that smelt like him; like crisp apples and crispy frost-coated leaves.

Tamlin was waiting when Lucien returned to the manor, Y/N still held tightly to his chest. His face was thunder itself.

“Before you start-” Lucien began, but Tamlin cut him off, even as Lucien pushed past him and led Y/N, still shaking in her boots, to the foot of the stairs.

“How could you be so reckless?” Tamlin snapped. Lucien’s eyes narrowed, heart beating so fast that he was sure if he looked down at his chest he would see it poking from his tunic with each beat.

“Reckless?” He bit in return. “We saved those people.”

“And you took her with you!” Tamlin fumed, motioning a throwaway hand toward Y/N. Lucien seethed. “What would have happened if she had been killed?”

“I never would have let that happen,” Lucien argued back. And he wouldn’t have. Never would he allow anything to happen to her - he would have laid his own life down in that battle against the Wyvern if it would have been payment for her heart to remain beating.

“You wouldn’t have been given the option,” Tamlin said through gritted teeth. He opened his mouth to say more, but a door opened behind them, and Lucien’s golden eye whirled to find Alis hovering there awkwardly. He cleared his throat, turning to her.

“Take her upstairs please, Alis,” he said calmly, a small, tight-lipped smile aimed her way. “Tend to any wounds that she has, and make sure she bathes.”

Alis gave a short nod, rushing over to Y/N, dress whispering against the tiled floor as she went, and with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, guided Y/N toward the stairs. Lucien turned back to Tamlin, white knuckled fists at his sides.

“You can’t keep her in this manor forever,” he said, chin raised defiantly. “She is more than capable of looking after herself. I saw that today. It was Y/N who brought that Wyvern down. She showed more strength and bravery than you did - you left those people to die, and it was her, the female that you see as weak, as needing to be protected, that stood there in your stead.”

“And look what it’s done to her!” Tamlin said, enraged. Lucien cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was slowly but surely taking the stairs step-by-step. She did look haggard and exhausted, covered in the blood of the foe she had defeated that day. It clung to her hair, mixing with her own blood seeping from a small but deep gash on the back of her head. Yet…she looked determined, looked strong and content. “She could have been killed! What were you thinking? What is going through your head?”

Lucien took one short but confident stride toward his High Lord. “I’m thinking of how proud of her I am.”

Tamlin scoffed, a haughty laugh that should have intimidated Lucien, should have made him feel foolish. “Pride?” He huffed. “Why in all of Prythian would you feel pride?”

“Because she accomplished something incredible today,” Lucien said firmly. “And it was an honour to witness it.”

Tamlin cocked his head in utter disbelief. “Who made you her spokesman. Why would you care what she does?”

“Because I’m in love with her!” Lucien breathed as if it were obvious. He paused, eyes wide, turning to the stairs where he found Y/N frozen to the spot, staring at him over her shoulder. He had said it, there was no turning back now. “I am so, frightfully in love with her and that terrifies me. I’m not simply sharing my bed with her. I intend to share every single day with her, until my final breath.”

Tamlin looked like a deer caught in the firing-line of an arrow marked for its heart. His eyes were wide in surprise, his mouth parted slightly. It would have been almost comical, and Lucien likely would have laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face, had he not been so unsure about what the High Lord’s next words would be.

Tamlin swallowed, closing his eyes as if to will away whatever anger was rising within him, and he only whispered, “Go. Get out of my sight.”

Lucien didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted for the stairs, taking Y/N’s hand, Alis clutching the other, and beginning to help her up the stairs. She looked at him in shock.

“Y-You told him,” she whispered. Lucien smiled softly.

“He had to know sometime,” he said with a small shrug. “And I’m tired of hiding. If I’m going to be with you, Y/N, then I don’t want it to be in the shadows. I wish to sing it from the very rooftops.”

She beamed, and Lucien could practically feel his heart glowing at the sight. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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clericofshadows · 1 year ago

Note

Give me the tea, I gotta know why Liara is so low on that list. Did they never click from the start or was it a gradual thing? Did they patch up at all?

oh man, you have opened the floodgates! going to go ahead and put this under a cut since it's going to be a bit long :)

ME1

Regis prioritizes Therum last. He just doesn't see the need to go after Benezia's daughter until the end. (His order is Noveria-Feros-Virmire-Therum). And after everything he's been through to get to that point, he's impatient, he's angry, he's running on fumes after Virmire and getting both Ash and Kaidan out, and the last thing he needs is someone he perceives as a civilian and possible liability on board his warship. He refuses to meld with her (thank you Skeptical Shepard mod that allows this in game), and they find another way through Regis's own detailed logs about his visions, Tali's algorithms that help search galaxy maps to match with his descriptions, and Liara's own knowledge.

Hell, once they get to the Citadel to petition to the Council, he suggests putting her in protective custody as a precaution, but that is denied (along with the Normandy going to Ilos, as in canon). So he never really interacts with her more than needed, and after the Saren mission is over, I headcanon that she is no longer on the ship and the events continue as in canon.

Mostly. In one of my fics I have my asari matriarch OC, Vik--who also happens to be Regis's uncle's long-term partner--find out through their Omega connects that Liara approached a Shadow Broker agent and Cerberus about something and that starts my AU for how I deal with Liara in Regis's canon. Kaidan learns about it, tells the Alliance (read: Hackett) about it, and Hackett and his team keeps an eye on her.

ME2

Regis doesn't find out that Liara brought him back through her. He finds out from patched together information from Vik and Kaidan that leads him approaching Aria about it, who happily spills the tea. Aria knew the whole time and could've let Vik in, but information always comes at a cost. The information is effectively useless now that Regis is back.

The moment he finds out that Liara is behind his resurrection, Regis goes ballistic. At least, inwardly. He hides it well until he gets back to the Normandy, goes off on Miranda about not telling him a former member of his crew bringing him back, and has a major crisis. Thankfully, he has at least Zaeed with him (and Kaidan on vid call), but it's not great because Regis realizes that his dogtags and his father's ring could easily be in her hands.

So yeah, things between them can't ever really be repaired. Regis gains some pretty serious trust issues after this, he blames her for the black mark on his name and career, and of course, the aforementioned ring the was symbol of what could've been his and Kaidan's commitment if Alchera hadn't happened.

Illium happens as normal. He hides his anger, only comes in to get the information on Samara and Thane, and quietly plans his revenge after the mission, because now, he sees the Collector threat as extremely serious and doesn't want to be distracted by her just yet.

So, how do I deal with the Shadow Broker DLC?

I introduced an OC in my last fic--Wren Clarkson--who is based on my N7 Fury multiplayer character (and basically my main). She's kind of one of Hackett's main agents and does a lot of missions that require a lot of heavy biotic power (or just a lot of power and combat prowess in general). And I want her to be part of the greater Regis canon since I've always wanted more N7s in game to interact with.

After finishing up on Illium, he finds out through Wren (who has been watching Liara under Hackett's orders) that Liara's apartment is under investigation and to come quick.

He sees this as an opportunity to gain the upper hand. If he helps her and then lets slip what he knows? Could be good leverage to get what he wants back.

So, he does, he finds his armor in the case, goes on another rage, and Zaeed and Samara just barely bring him back from the brink. He decides to work with Wren and Vasir to find out what the hell is going on and meet up with Liara as normal during the mission (except this time, Regis knows how to cushion his fall with biotics thankyouverymuch).

The DLC more or less proceeds as normal, but with lots of indifference pointed towards Liara on Regis's end (because he's not about to reveal to her how much she betrayed him just yet), and eventually it gets to the point where they go after the Broker's ship after dealing with Vasir. Regis, Liara, Wren, and Zaeed go on the mission together, and this proceeds as normal until they reach the Shadow Broker.

This is basically me writing off Liara as nicely as I can, so she gets knocked out for most of the fight, Regis, Zaeed, and Wren deal with the Broker, and Regis orders Wren to deal with the network as they check on Liara. Wren is not happy about doing it but realizes how useful it can be to the Alliance (read: Hackett's Alliance) and puts herself into the Broker role.

Liara is fine, not too happy about missing out on revenge, and Regis gives her an ultimatum: Leave with Feron and make sure he's okay and heals and never get involved again with anything related to Regis, or he will turn her into the Alliance for conspiracy and working with Cerberus and the reason why his name and career is permanently marred. This is where he gets honest with his feelings.

She takes the out, but before she leaves, she sends Regis some files and a security key. He doesn't look at it until Liara leaves with Feron on a spare shuttle, but it's some information about where she kept his dogtags and ring, along with some more information about his resurrection.

Regis, again, isn't too happy about this, but ultimately lets her go as he got what he wanted in the end. His ring and dogtags back, his old omnitool, and effectively, got his revenge on the person who brought him to Cerberus by holding a threat over her head that he could revoke at any time with the Shadow Broker able to track her down if need be.

And boom, no Liara for ME3, and I get to have fun with my multiplayer character for ME3 instead.

TL;DR

In ME1, Regis prioritizes other missions over Liara's rescue, doesn't trust her on the Normandy, and has minimal interaction. In ME2, he learns that Liara resurrected him, feels betrayed, and plans revenge. During the Shadow Broker DLC, he helps Liara under the guise of gaining leverage, but he ends up giving her an ultimatum to leave or face consequences. Liara leaves, and Regis gets his belongings back, effectively removing her from ME3, allowing for better character interactions with ones I actually like :)

#ask #breadedsinner #regis shepard #i apologize for how long and rambling this got but yeah... I don't really like liara at all and it shows in regis's canon

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hawkshuah · 3 months ago

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FOR THE PERSON IN THIS SCREENSHOT, (along with others who agree with them or go against this) DO NOT RESPOND TO ME IN ANYWAY. AT. ALL. IT MAY BE YOUR CONTENT, BUT ITS ANNOYING AS HELL. THIS IS A RANT. THIS IS MY OPINION.

theres so much things wrong with these ships.

you may have told me off about mxm, which i understood,

some of these are literally darkshipping. not comshipping, darkshipping.

this is why i quite literally lost interest in the smg4 fandom because of shippers.

first thing i noticed.

marware;

i shipped this for a day and realized it was wrong as hell. mr puzzles has controlled mario in so many FUCKING ways throughout puzzlevision and just because hes "retarded" doesnt mean it DOESNT FUCKING APPLY. i wont change your opinion, but theres so much things wrong with this ship. its awful. for the new episode on saturday, im assuming its gonna be related to wotfi 2024 with marty, mario, and mr puzzles. mr puzzles said he WOULD be back to seek revenge. dont give me shitty excuses how it "wasnt that bad" and wasnt controlled as much, because its still horrible.

marty and mario;

now your just making up ships. its not even rarepairing anymore. this is also borderline AWFUL because of the dynamic. marios fucking OC, who BRAINWASHED (in connection to mr puzzles) mario, to quite literally steal. marty, in the new episode where mario is being hunter by karen, literally also said he would come back for mario. what is "lovey dovey" about this shit? he may have protected marty at first in some episodes along with this, but it isnt right.

"oh..! but thats how shipping works!! they dont have to love eachother!!"

Marty is cardboard. Another shitty excuse.

mr puzzles x wren;

do i even have to explain WHY this is also bad? mr puzzles controlled wren. he even died at the own cost just to get powerful from puzzles. just because their both villians, theres two different situations for them. wren started western spaghetti by getting into mutual contact with puzzles. he proceeded to kidnap the crew and him. how do you possibly make something up like this.

luigi x chris;

there is barely any interaction between the two. "rarepairs" but its literally characters who probably do not give a fuck about eachother. theyre most likely friends, but like, barely. chris isnt technically part of the crew either, and only really shows up if swag is also there trying to save something. let the poor dudes go.

axol x niles;

this is the reason i even wrote this. this is why i think this is SO fucking disgusting.

if youve really paid attention to both the genesis and revelations arcs, you would know neither of them are on good terms.

niles technically posessed axol in a way. to both torture him and melony. melony had to kill axol to save him and free niles. niles is not good and shouldnt even be dynamic-ed this way. victim x abuser? niles abused axol quite literally?? why the FUCK would you even ship this?

axol x smg0;

this is also wrong. they have never interacted in a day of their life. if im wrong, it was probably for a MILISECOND. ive rewatched the genesis arc and revelations arc 27 times. i know how everything goes around. smg0 was not around for that much, except when niles took control of him too like with axol. this dynamic, let alone "ship" doesnt make sense.

axol x smg0 x niles;

dude. what the fuck. literally the last two rants combined on why this is wrong.

luke stated when axol is shipped with everyone but melony makes him uncomfortable. thats the only canon ship you'll EVER fucking get. this is why the fandom is so toxic. JUST LAY OFF A FUCKING BIT. let alone the 3 of them shipped just fucking sucks. i dont get anything romantic about the ship. people hate smg4 shippers because of this exact reason.

it doesnt make sense.

its a darkship. 2 victims, both of them being controlled and possessed, x abuser/controller..? dude.

if your making the own creator of smg4 uncomfortable (along with others,)

then thats just your time to like. just stop.

tumblr may be a safe space for this shit, (ive seen cannibalism kinks, shit kinks, wtv)

but just. make a separate blog. i cant.

#ace rambles

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belong2human-kind · 2 years ago

Text

Sabezra week!!

Missing You –Prompt.

Pairing: Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger

Tags: Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Hera Syndulla, Zeb, Kallus, Chopper, Lothal Freedom, Kanan Jarrus (mentioned), General Thrawn (Mentioned),Loth-Cats, Angst story

@sabezraweek

He's Gone.

Everyone in that room was quiet. They looked above the skies, that were filled with Imperial ships just some seconds ago, all clean, all free now. They were all in shock at Ezra's plan, as they didn't know what to expect.

—He saved Lothal... –Hera said, sweetly, putting her hand on her own shoulder, looking up with a concerned and sad stare.

—He saved us all. His planet, his friends... –Zeb said with a disbelief tone.–His family.

— I guess the jedi taught him well. –Kallus gave them a sad smile.

—He sure did... —Hera said, with her eyes filled with tears.

Everyone looked out of the windows, Loth people's screams and laughs could be listened. They were hugging, and celebrating they now freedom. Everyone was happy outside, but inside of that room every member of the crew now ached for Ezra's absence. Maybe, one more than the others.

Sabine was speechless. She hadn't been able to say a word since Ezra disappeared from her eye sight in that ship. She was paralyzed, looking above her, fixated on the window with her light brown sparkling eyes wided open, filled with disbelief. Her chest felt a huge panic, just like she was reviving the day they lost Kanan. She breathed heavily, and it started to get harder and harder to get the air around her. She almost felt like she had been thrown in outer space, without air, without anyone, just a cold, empty and scaring feeling.

"No, no no no... that can't be true" her mind kept running. She stayed still for some seconds, and although she could hear her crew family talking around her, she didn't really listened.

—EZRA!

She shouted abruptly at her speaking device, desperated. No answers.

—Ezra!! Ezra! Answer me!

—Sabine! He can't listen to you anymore! —Kallus held the girl, as she kept screaming.

—No! No! Ezra! Where are you?? Ezra! Answer! Answer me right now! Ezra!

Hera ran towards her, holding her shoulders.

—My dear... Ezra is... gone. —Hera said, with tears in her eyes and a heavy tone in her voice. —He sacrificed himself to save all of us.

—NO! He CAN'T be gone Hera! He just cannot! Chopper! Find him! Track him down! —Sabine ran towards Chopper, trying to locate his comms by herself with her equipment. —Use his last signal, check if he had a tracking device, he had to have one, we need to find him now! The purgills, they will take him to unknown places, their ship had their windows broken by them, he is in danger we need to do something!

Everyone could see that she was hurting, and in panic. It had been too much to process in such a little time gap. They had just lost Kanan. They had now just won Lothal, but the cost was to lose Ezra as well.

—Sabine, please, calm down-

—Hera he need us! He need us to save him like he just did now, he can die if we don't do anything, we are losing time, we have to-

The twi'lek hugged her, crying. The girl wanted to cry, she wanted to burst out in tears, but she was too agitated with adrenaline to break down. She was tremulant, shivery, shaking out of anxiety.

—There's nothing we can do now, Sabine. Ezra is gone.

She felt her chest weight more than ever. A strange sensation hit the mandalorian girl, she felt so empty and yet her chest was so heavy and it was so difficult to breath. Her mouths lost the words to say.

—He left to protect us, like Kanan did... He had his plan, he fought for it, he gave everything he could to protect us. Leaving Lothal now is too dangerous. He wouldn't want any of us in danger. Do you understand? –She held the girl, talking in between her own tears and pain. —He was counting on us...

Sabine broke apart from her hug and she ran to anyplace she could be alone. The tears that had been kept hidden fell from her eyes nonstop, as she ran out of that place, reaching the fields of Lothal. She ran throughout them, not knowing where she would go at that moment, she just wanted to run, until she broke down on the ground, kneeling and angrily ripping off some plants in front of her. She was filled with anger, guilt, sadness. She hated the empire even more now. They'd taken Kanan away. They taken Ezra away too. They had broke her apart from her family for so much time, they had killed mandalorians and used her against her own people, and now they had hurt her other family too. They had broken them apart. They had broken her apart. She clenched her fists and let out a silent scream. Her mind kept repeating memories with him, times where she thought she was totally alone, time where she thought she couldn't trust him, the Ghost family or even herself anymore, and he took all that doubts away. She reminded how careful and patient he would be towards her, how protective, and she felt so bad that now she wasn't able to protect him too. She remembered his voice saying how he could always count on her, and how he was counting on her this time. She reminded that she was the one that helped him get to that damn ship. So many memories, all coming up together, all messing her senses and trembling her heart. Her tears wouldn't stop falling down.

—Ezra... come back... I don't want to feel so alone anymore... I don't want to lose anyone else right now...please come back home, Ezra...

She said trembling. A White Loth-Cat appeared, looking curious at her. She left out a sad laugh, looking at the animal immediately reminded herof him. The White Cat installed himself on her lap, purring and looking at her. She held the animal tightly, in a hug she wished she could gave to his friend.

—————————————————————

The evening's warmth starts giving space to the darkening cold breeze of the night. The two moons of Lothal could already be seen, even though the sun was setting, slowly at the horizon. Sabine got up from the ground, with a empty look in her eyes. She automatically marched around the field, not noticing that she had ended up in Ezra's Tower. The night had fallen as she got at the top of it. Opening the door, she saw his old house, all messed up by the empire's agents, by Thrawn. Her legs failed her again, she couldn't remember the last time she got to eat or hydrate herself, and she broke down looking at her view: an empty, dark and lifeless room. Ezra was everywhere in that room and yet nowhere to be found. She squeezed her eyes and clutch her fists so hard, until she finally gave in to her emotions and let out a silent scream, crying. She would never allow her to cry like that in front of anyone, and now she was sure that she probably wouldn't do that in front of anyone, since Ezra was the closest person she had and the only one that saw her sheding tears before. She trusted and loved Hera with her life, but she had her own battles, even stronger ones now. Ezra was closer to her and a more present and vivid part of her world, inevitably. He was the one to show her respect, patience, compassion, admiration... he showed her new type of feelings, and trusting him to see her weak was one of them. He made she acknowledged things that she never wanted to deal with, like her past, her mistakes. He was there, all the time, with her and Kanan, at the most difficult time in her life, and now she had lost both of them. It was unfair. It was so damn unfair.

She punched the ground, shouting out of anger.

—This won't bring them back, honey.

Sabine heard a familiar voice, and got really startled by it. She wasn't expecting company of anyone, the only person she wanted to seem now wouldn't come to help her, as much as she wished that. Hera stood up leaning against one of the sides of the door, staring at the young mandalorian, as Sabine kept her back facing Hera, not moving.

—Not now, Hera... I want to be alone.

The twi'lek woman walked past the young lady, kneeling by her side and sitting close to her, in silence. She left out a huge sigh of pain out of her chest, closing her eyes. Tears also fell down through her face.

— I know... you're suffering. I am, too. But I got Zeb and Chopper to rely on. I thought maybe I could trying being someone that you would rely on. It's not fair to buckle up and condemn yourself to handle all this pain alone. You're not alone anymore, Sabine.

She couldn't answer her, she couldn't face her. Sabine just hid her face with her arm while crying and sobbing.

—It's... not fair... to lose them...

—It is not, sweetheart —Hera broke down in slowly tears again. —It is not. But I am here. I'm with you, okay?

Sabine hugged Hera. Her loving touch and warm hug made she feel more relieved, and it was calming for both of them.

—I need you more than anything now, Sabine. We gotta stay together and try to heal. —Hera confessed, stroking the girl's hair.

—I don't want to heal! —She shouted. —I want them back! I want Ezra back, he was my friend, the best friend I ever had, and he teached me to trust him, he teached me so many things and... I really liked him. I really liked having him around, it felt safe again, it felt lighter and funny. I don't like feeling so lonely again...

—I know, dear. I know.

—I thought... I would have more time with him. I thought we would grow together through this.

Hera closed her eyes again, letting out another deep breath mixed with a not so loud cry. Those were the same words she said about Kanan, she hated that the kids had to pass something so similar in such a young age. She mourned her loved one and surely she thought that they would have more time, she wanted that, but she was also grateful for the times they lived together, all the years they spent with each other. Hera always noticed a very similarity with her and Sabine and Kanan and Ezra, specially their relationship when the both of them where younger. She didn't know if they would end up involved like she and Kanan did, but she hoped so much that they wouldn't have the same fate of them in the future, and now she was seeing the scenario repeating again, so prematurely. Her face was filled with sorrow, that she gently tried to blow away that pain while still enduring and dealing with all of that.

—So have I, with Kanan... I thought the same thing, my dear. But when we chose to stand up against the empire, there's nothing such as "I" anymore. You live for the cause, for the people that can't stand up for themselves. There's no time for involvement, there's no time to nothing else than staying alive one more day to try to at least make a small difference, and then you're running, but not only running for your life but running for everyone's lives, running for one more day to keep fighting for everything you believe. You know that your life is worth all the ones that can't fight, you need to stay alive to protect them because if you don't, you will never truly know who will. –She said, between constant sighs of pain and exhaustion. —We don't have the privilege to live for ourselves, we live so others will too.

— I'm not sure.. I'm not sure I wanna be a part of this anymore. How much more will I lose and have to sacrifice?

—...I can't tell that, Sabine. It's an everyday choice to chose the right thing to be done for you and for everything living in the galaxy. I won't stop you from leaving if that's what you wish but... I really needed you the most right now.

Silence revolved around them, now more calm, looking down in such a feeling of loss

—I don't wanna leave you, I just don't want to live in this hopeless nightmare anymore, I want it to stop! I want it to disappear, I want Kanan and Ezra back.

Hera gave her a little faded smile.

—There is always hope, Sabine. This is what is keeping me alive right now. Hope for a better future, for you and me, for all the people in the galaxy.

—What's the point of conquering freedom if you lost every part of you on the way? What is freedom without the ones you love? —She looked at Hera, with her eyes merged with tears.

—The ones that we love are always going to be with us. You know that. As much as you tried to run away from your family, they are part of you, Sabine. They will never completely leave you, just like... Kanan and Ezra will never completely leave us.

Hera stroke her hair, gently, as the girl buried her face in her hug again, feeling exhausted and feeling her eyes heavy.

—We will find hope again. I promise you Sabine.

She said, as the mandalorian sleept in her arms.

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #ezra and sabine #ezrabine #sabezra #sabezraweek2022 #angst #missing you

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aeon2407 · 1 year ago

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Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 7

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

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

Command Bridge, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

“Captain Pyrondi, come in.”

Yana groaned in frustration. What now? “This is Pyrondi. Send traffic.”

“Captain, there’s an unknown ship on approach. Pilot claims to be a bounty hunter with two dead members of Clan Wren. Wants to collect the bounty and requested that the ship captain deliver the bounty in person. Guild ident number checks out. Orders, sir?”

A contemplative silence. “Have a squadron of guards at the hangar bay and wait for me. I’m on my way. Captain Virgilio has the bridge.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Yana told the task force to wrap up and set course back to Tepasi, then went to change. She hasn’t worn traditional hides in too damn long, and it’d also throw the bounty hunter off-kilter.

A full security detail was already there by the time she got to the hangar. Chief General Tagge designated her a high-value asset when the bounty on her head, from way back during her last year at Royal, was recently reactivated. Four million credits turned a lot of heads her way. It also earned her the nickname ‘Unkillable’ amongst Mandalorian clans.

The man that stepped out of the ship was tall, lanky in that aristocratic way that suggested a runaway or disgraced noble, probably Kuati given the unique complexion. He had two bodies in Mandalorian armor on the cart behind him and a facial scan confirmed them as Clan Wren and the hunter as disgraced Kuati royalty. She nodded, a trooper handed her the box of credits to pass to him, and she turned to walk away. What a waste of her time.

The last thing she felt before blacking out was a sharp, searing pain in her back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tagges were no stranger to strangling worlds and systems, either in retaliation for an offense against them or just to get their way. Before the Republic existed, Helric Tagge rigged the Hydian Way, causing a collision in hyperspace that resulted in Alderaan, Chandrila, and Coruscant losing five thousand ships. The cost was so great that Alderaan swore pacifism, and Chandrila never built another warship. The resulting famine on Coruscant killed over two billion people. Nobody could prove a thing.

TaggeCo, already a multisystem conglomerate then, swooped in and grew exponentially. Brutal yet subtle suppression of any and all competition in its infancy, bribes, blackmail, extortion, assassination, orchestrated disasters. In twenty years, TaggeCo grew from a conglomerate to a supercorporation, then an empire of its own, spanning nearly the entire known galaxy.

When the Republic was created, Coruscant was picked as the capitol, but recorded history showed that Tepasi, and Helric himself, sat at the head of that table.

At the height of the Clone Wars, The Dynasty declared Tagge Space a neutral territory. The CIS tried to muscle in when Domina took the throne from her father Kyric, mistakenly seeing the change in leadership as a weakness to exploit. All of a sudden, Serenno had food riots, the Banking Clan lost all Tagge deposits, and the Techno Union didn't get a new contract, or any contract for that matter.

The Tagges opened their own bank and trading platform, offered high interest rates for low balances, and sucked away the masses. The Techno Union was replaced by TaggeCo workers, staffed through an aggressive recruiting campaign instead of leaning on the Republic Youth Corps for cheap labor like so many others. Domina bought every credit of Republic debt from the Banking Clan for a quarter of the price and squeezed the Senate’s economic balls just to remind them who was in control.

The likes of Kuat and BlasTech were all concerned with protecting their bottom lines while the Clone Wars raged on. Domina, however, saw the opportunity to revolutionize and took it. The Empire presented another such opportunity and she took that one too, getting the largest piece of War Mantle and a bunch of other military contracts to herself.

The Dynasty earned itself another name: The House, as in ‘Don’t bet against The House.’

Kuat wouldn’t stand a chance. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Secondary Hangar Bay, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Yissa was assigned by Virgilio to help receive and prepare Artur for surgery. As much as she was jealous of the man, she didn’t want him to die, and as such put every drop of effort into her work, carefully lifting him onto the medsled before swiftly cutting off his shirt, revealing a set of electro-tattoos, then his pants, with a pair of scissors.

She stopped dead to stare at his crotch, now only covered by his blacks. Remembered Yana’s dimensions in her head. How the kriff…

She shook her head and got back to work. Thank Coru she left him at the altar and ran. He might not even fit inside her, much less Yana. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes you beat the odds and sometimes you don't. It was good luck that Ilyana had changed into her tuskie-hide tunic before meeting the ‘bounty hunter’ since the hide already had mild energy-dissipating properties. It was bad luck that the shot landed, partly burned through the back of the tunic and cloak, and dropped her in her tracks. The assassin was a male member of the Kuati Royal House, a fake declaration of disownment and an initiation into the guild set up by the Matriarch herself.

Yana didn't remember anything, from her point of view all she did was wake up in a bacta tank on the Acquisitor, painkillers up to the eyeballs and staring without comprehension at the medics outside her tank before her brain glitched out again.

Hurt.

“She's waking up.”

“Put her under again. That cloned skin graft is taking. She can't move for another few days at least.”

Ilyana woke up screaming. The pain was too much for tears. Too much for breathing, but her body did it stubbornly. In and Out. The simple motion blacked her out again and this time, Faro closed her hands over Yana's, creating a soft squeezy in her grip. “Squeeze, Yana. Squeeze it hard.”

And she did. The pain rode away from her like a leaf on the surface of a stream, and Yana sank in. Oh. No pain.

A soft darkness took her away to a place of strange silver starlight, paths and gateways, and Yana floated there. She watched herself be born, live, and die so many times, so many different outcomes. Then at one critical moment when her legs failed her, when hope failed her, her uncle threw her into the transport and shut the hatch.

All those other lives went dark as if someone flicked a switch and crumbled away. And then the dark bloomed with so many new lights, new colors, branches of light from one gateway to another.

“You’re the one who wasn't supposed to live. He’s the one who was never supposed to be. And you have both set me free.”

The voice was familiarly unfamiliar. Yana whirled around. A man, shoulder length brown hair, scar under his right eye, and ridiculously tall, was floating a ways away behind her.

“Who are you?” He was so... familiar. She could've sworn that they've met before.

He gave her a small smile, one full of kindness and pain. “My name is �� was – Anakin Skywalker.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Secondary Medbay, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Artur woke up… refreshed? What in the- Oh, wait. There’s the pain. Ow. Looked down. Signs of recent surgery on his left knee. Artur gave it a tap, felt his knuckles hitting metal. Prosthetic, most likely courtesy of TaggeCo R&D to feel this natural.

Looking around, he recognized the secondary medbay on one of the Armada’s capital ships. Not the Acquisitor, but certainly a Domina-Class. He stopped a passing medical droid. “Where am I?”

“Ah, Lord Artur. I am glad to see that you are awake. You are in the secondary medbay. You suffered a-“

“I know that. Which ship am I on?”

“The Levinbolt, milord.”

“Thank you.”

The Levinbolt. Spearhead. Auntie Domina mobilized the Armada, which meant someone gave her the code. Who knew the code? Him, Dad, Aylin, Domini, Lapin, Aunt Domi, Yana… Yana. Margulis bless that woman.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, milord?”

“Is Ilyana Pyrondi on board?”

“Captain Pyrondi is currently undergoing post-surgery recovery in ICU Unit One, Lord Artur. Would you like to relay a message?”

She’s undergoing what!? Focus. Observation, assessment, action. In that order. “No. No message, thank you.” He waited for the droid to move out of sight before starting his ‘action’.

Medical Sergeant Eylod was the unlucky soldier assigned to watch over Major Tagge while he healed in post-op. He’d gone out for a cup of caf. It had taken him two minutes. When he came back, the bed was empty and the Major was nowhere to be found. “Oh grace be damned, not again. Sergeant Eylod to Captain Virgilio. Major Tagge escaped from medbay, sir. No tracks to follow.”

A sigh through the comms. “Of course he did. I’ll tell the guards around Pyrondi’s bed to be on the lookout and make a few calls. Prepare restraints and standby for updates.”

“Yes sir. Standing by.”

Max Veers was in the middle of a meeting when his personal comms chimed. Why the hell was Virgilio calling him? Did something happen to Artur? “Excuse me, gentlemen. This would take but a moment.”

Exit the room. Secure surrounding environment. Accept the call. “General Veers speaking.”

“Sir, Captain Virgilio here. Lets say, hypothetically of course, that Major Tagge went missing from medbay and there was no visible trace of his whereabouts. Where should we look first?”

A Long Suffering Sigh. “Was he alone?”

“Yes sir.”

“He’s in the floors. Or a large vent somewhere. Check for loose panels. If that is all?”

“That is all, General. Thank you.”

“Tell me when you find him. Veers out.”

Sigh. Lock emotions out of face. Reenter the room. “Apologies, gentlemen. Where were we?”

He remined himself to send a recording to Artur to berate the boy remotely.

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

World Between Worlds

“General Skywalker. We studied your tactics in history class.”

A smile and chuckle. “I know you do. Word of advice, most of my so called 'tactics' were just me making shit up as I go.”

A scoff. “And yet when I do it I get a reprimand and a ton of lip. Why are you here, General? What is this place?” For a moment she was afraid that this was the After, but the stars reassured her that it wasn't. Part of her was sad, because at the end of her life she hoped to see her parents and kin again.

“This is somewhere... else. Most who know about it called it the World Between Worlds. We can see the past, present, and future here. You've just witnessed the change you made on Destiny.”

“General, with all due respect, Destiny is a bunch of-” Awake. Faro and Thrawn both hovering over her. So MUCH pain. Squeezed the squeezy. Okay. Black, then starlight and General Skywalker peering down at her. “Ohthathurtohthathurt.”

Yana cleared her throat. The pain lingers. “Excuse me, General. As I was saying, with all due respect, Destiny is a bunch of nerfshit.”

A Sigh, full of weight and pain. “I wish that were true. So much suffering could have been avoided if more thought like you, but Destiny is what it is. The simple fact of your continued existence and Artur's being at all is proof of Destiny. The Force itself has changed around both of you.”

Yana was... confused. “How so, General? Artur I get, he's a great man who will go on to do great things, but I'm just a humble officer.”

Anakin channeled his inner Drama Queen Kenobi before his next words. “The two of you form a dyad in the Force.”

And the child was absolutely unimpressed. He knew he liked this one for a reason. He should drop her on Obi – trying to be invisible on Tatooine – and see how it goes.

Yana didn't know a dyad from Orn Free Taa's left asscheek. “I saw all the other lives I could have lived, but one wiped them all out, and a bunch of other lives resulted. Destiny's a sloppy way to run a universe.”

“My old Master told me that Destiny gives people hope for something better, not only for themselves, but for others, for the future.”

“Even so, General, my point stands. Hope doesn't mean much if the thing giving hope makes a mess of everything in the first place.” She continued, “And there is nothing so cruel as giving people false hope, sending them looking for miracles instead of solutions, selling them a gilded bantha turd. We're fighting against false hopes and false promises right now. 'Restore democracy!' and 'Freedom' and 'Rights.' Democracy takes work, freedom needs infrastructure, and rights are balanced with responsibilities. But then again, telling people to use their brains instead of sitting on their ass has never been motivational.”

Her shoulders were burning. “Shit. The pain meds are wearing off again. Be right back.”

And she disappeared back to the material world once again. Anakin used the time to think. Did he agree with her?

…

Yes, absolutely. He and Vader seldom agreed on anything, but they did now.

Yana opened her eyes. Squeezed the squeezy. Silent scream because she did not have the energy for sound. Thrawn and Faro were still hovering over her.

“Welcome back, Ilyana.”

“No. I have to go back. I was talking with General Skywalker.” Needle in arm. Squeezed the squeezy. Out again. Thrawn started. Went out to contact the Executor and check what Vader was doing.

“And another thing. Corruption is contagious - it comes from the top down. Since you're a figment of my imagination, I'm going to tell you my life story. I was born on a world called Jegsziv-”

Vader was meditating, not to be disturbed. Tepasi breakout in ten. Plenty of time.

Anakin listened as Ilyana told her story. By the end he was incredibly pissed off, disgusted with Gererra as well, but calmed himself. First things first, clarification. “I'm not a figment of your imagination, Ilyana. I'm real... and alive.”

Yana felt her brain stopped. “What do you mean, you're alive? I don’t wish to contradict you, sir, but you died during the Battle of Coruscant.”

“My identity did. My body survived.”

“So you’re… someone else now? A new name?”

“Yes. A name given to me when I Fell. Darth Vader.”

“I’m sorry, sir. WHAT?!”

Artur felt a familiar flutter in the Force, what little of it he could feel, from his hiding spot under the flooring. Yana. That meant she was still alive!

Ben felt someone Tepasi dancing in the Force, and… Anakin. Not Vader. Not Darth. Anakin. He told Owen that he was leaving for a while, then took the next shuttle to Coruscant. It was the best place to reorientate himself with the Core before going to Tepasi.

He meditated during the fourteen-hour shuttle ride and attempted to get into the World Between Worlds again. He was successful this time and started looking for Anakin, pointedly ignoring the gateways.

Yana stumbled slightly. “Okay, I think they gave me too many drugs.”

Anakin smiled in understanding. “Once you wake up fully, Ilyana, go call Vader by my name. You’ll see.”

“Alright, fine. For the sake of argument, how did we meet?”

“Devastator’s command deck, above Terra. You were still a third-year cadet. Piett brought you aboard to install the Pyrondi System and update our targeting software.”

Yana couldn’t argue with that. Her shoulders were flaring with pain again. “Waking up. But if I call Vader by your name and dies I’m haunting you.”

A chuckle. “Deal. Make sure you try to relax through the pain. I’ll see you soon.”

And then she broke the surface of consciousness, the pain slamming into her. This time Lapin and Lady Domina were the faces greeting her. She whimpered. “What happened? It hurts so much.”

Lapin’s lips thinned. “You got shot. We've grafted cloned skin onto your back and taking you to Recovery. Putting you back under in three, two, one...”

And back under she went. Yana knew enough about medicine to know that she'd be under for a while. Decided to kill time by talking with General Skywalker again. “HEY. YOU THERE?”

Ben tripped over his own feet at that one.

“I'M OVER HERE.”

That was Anakin. He broke into a flat run.

Yana went looking, stopping occasionally to shout back and forth, almost like echolocation. Ben followed the shouting.

Anakin was standing in front of a gateway looking into the Jedi Temple by the time Ilyana found him. Lines of clones were marching up the steps with a cloaked figure in the lead. He looked at her as she approached. “Any improvements, Ilyana?”

“I got shot, sir. I’m not sure yet.” She looked at the gateway. “What’re you looking at? I can’t see anything.”

“You can't, but I can. This was my Fall. Trying to see if I can redeem myself from this.”

“Maybe I can't see it because it isn't mine. Why did you fall?”

A painful sigh. “Love. Anger. Desperation. Arrogance. Poor judgement, in the end. I committed some very heinous acts on the final day of the Clone Wars.”

Ben traced the pathways and saw two figures, one tall adult and a child, staring at a gateway. Ventured closer. The two had their heads together, talking. “Anakin?”

Yana jumped to intercept the stranger – an old man, then a young man, shifting back and forth. “Halt. Identify yourself.” Her clothing flickered from furs to service grays to formal whites with gold epaulets.

The stranger raised his hands placatingly. “My name is Ben Kenobi, young one.” His body settled on ‘young’ and he looked down. “Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi now. What’s your name?”

Yana's uniform darkened, senior lieutenant insignia on the chest, Seventh Fleet emblem on the shoulder. “Senior Lieutenant Ilyana Pyrondi, WSO of the ISD Chimaera.” Then it flashed back to the leathers and furs almost stubbornly, then to a red and gold wedding dress, then back to the uniform.

Between the dress and the uniform was a very brief flicker of white and gold. Obi Wan observed with interest. “Well met, Lieutenant Pyrondi.”

Ilyana studied him, then turned to ask Anakin, “He's a Jedi?”

Anakin had Darkness in his eyes. “My former Master. The man who crippled me and left me for dead on Mustafar.”

She was still standing in front of Anakin and raised her arm cannon. Suspicious of the Jedi – having only heard tales of the worst.

“Lower your weapon, Ilyana. He won't attack me. Not here.”

For a second, the bridge of the Chimaera flickers around them. “You're unarmed, sir.”

“I'm one of the most powerful Force-sensitives in recorded history, Ilyana. I'm never unarmed.”

“Copy that, sir. But if he moves wrong I'm ventilating him.”

Obi-Wan silently thought that this one might have been too young to have ever seen a Jedi. Or that she was passed over for some reason. She was strong in the Force, but also weak in the Force. And what was it with Anakin and small violent brunettes?

Oh well, at least this one wasn't dying in front of him, although there was still a lot of physical pain around her. He lowered his hands slowly and sat down. Anakin did the same. Something was different about his former Padawan, but what?

In the material world, Artur had finally managed to navigate his way to the Recovery Room. He climbed out of the floor grate carefully and stumbled to Yana’s bedside, idly making a note to recalibrate the pressure and sensitivity in his new knee before being cleared for active duty as he grasped her hand gently and looked at the monitors. Grafted skin directly onto blaster burn. Nasty business. Yissa was already there, slumped against the bedding and fast asleep.

Artur's touch got through and Yana leaned slightly off to one side. Maybe this was the place that the Dreamwalkers went? There was no one left to ask, but her people called this the world of dreams.

Yana manifested a comfortable chair and took a seat. The pain was present but distant, and from time to time she could see horrible injuries on General Skywalker. A head burnt and scarred, missing limbs and more burn marks across his body, dried blood everywhere. Her own pain throbbed slightly at the sight of him. This must be what Vader look like under that suit.

Sometimes both of them were covered in blood. Sometimes she was, too. In the medbay, her fingers curled around Artur's. One thing about Thrawn, he always act to minimize civilian casualties where others do not.

There were times when she questioned her own role in the Empire, where she questioned whether, by seeking to protect all the little Yanas, she was making more of them? Thrawn had said to command without doubts and regrets, and that the clarity of hindsight is either vanity, foolishness, or madness. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. The nature of Imperial service was that you didn't usually have time to reflect on such things, but she had time now.

In the outside world, Artur pressed his head against their joined fingers and fell asleep right before Revy came in to check on the Little Demon. Paused. Pulled out her comm. “Recovery Room clear. No sign of him.” She gently pulled two more beds over and deposited both him and Yissa onto them before leaving silently, making sure that they were both tucked into Yana’s sides. Messaged an update to Lapin.

Yana pulled on his presence for some comfort, the way she used to less than two years ago. Suddenly, the three of them were joined by a very big, very confused man.

“OH GRACE AND OH SHIT. Artur. Wait. Let me put him back.”

The wedding dress appeared on her again and then confusingly the comfy chair became a command chair. Obi-Wan was amused. Like most people her age, she was feeling the pull of multiple destinies.

Anakin shot a warning look at him. “Don’t use the D-word, Obi-Wan.”

Ah, one of those. Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.

Yana was so very confused about her clothing, panicked over Artur being here, and annoyed at her inability to send him back. Artur, meanwhile, fell back on his training. Observed, then his eyes landed on Anakin. A nod of acknowledgement. “Lord Vader.”

Anakin gave Yana a look that just screamed ‘Told you so’ and she glared at him. Suddenly, they were on the Chimaera’s bridge and she was once again in that damned white uniform.

Artur looked at her, glancing down at where a rank plaque would be before coming to attention. What was he smirking at? “Grand Admiral Pyrondi, sir.”

Yana directed her glare at him. “Don’t you start with me.”

Anakin was impressed. She had an unprecedented level of control over this plane of existence.

Their surroundings shifted again. This time, they were on a cold, grassy plain. Pyrondi flinched as if she’d touched fire, and they were back in the World Between Worlds.

Artur and Anakin both looked at her in understanding. "Your home world?" Anakin asked.

“Yes. I don't want to talk about it.”

The scene shifted again, this time to Coruscant and the Imperial Throne. Artur's outfit turned into royal attire and a crown materialized on his head.

Obi-Wan looked at the girl and the newcomer, then at Anakin. “What did you do?”

He had finally realized what was different about Anakin. The burden of Destiny was gone from him. The Anakin in front of him was the Anakin before he had to be The Chosen One. The one he would've become if the burden had never rested on his shoulders at all. Hardened by war, but not weighed down by colossal expectations.

Anakin just looked at him. “I didn’t do anything, Obi-Wan. What did you do?”

“I heard this one.” He pointed at Yana. “Yelling her head off looking for someone, and I heard you. The next thing I knew, I was here.”

Anakin probed into the Force only to find that his Master-Padawan Force bond, the one he’d shredded and burned, slowly putting itself back together.

They had a lot to talk about, so Yana pulled Artur to the side, still keeping her arm cannon close to aiming at this ‘Kenobi’ and still staying close enough to listen. Things were so mutable here. She needed to have some discipline or she’d be standing in her blacks soon enough.

Artur's outfit shifted again, this time back to the black of Special Forces. Yana glanced at his rank plaque and smirked at him. “Grand General Tagge, sir.”

Like she said. This place was so mutable.

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

Undisclosed Location, Ryloth

Ahsoka shifted as she slept. Her dream was so strange. Anakin. Obi Wan. A Tagge, and it was obviously a Tagge, that she'd seen somewhere before, and a woman that was somehow familiar. All of them standing in the World Between Worlds, the same one Ezra had pulled her into.

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

World Between Worlds

Anakin shifted between himself and Vader, all the pain slamming back into him as destiny – fine, he could see why she hated that word – tried to shove things back on track. The future wasn't set just yet. Anakin might not be the Chosen One anymore, but the outcome could still be changed back. Vader – Anakin – Vader decided that they needed to get rid of Palpatine, and fast, before the Force did something drastic to any of them.

Obi-Wan saw the moment that decision settled. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.” Despite past actions, he didn’t want that to happen.

“If I don't, Obi Wan, how long do you think it will take for him to kill them? The galaxy deserves a better destiny.”

Artur looked up at him. He was tall, but Anakin was ridiculous. “Would our chances be better if you get your organic body back?”

Yana thought about it and shrugged. “If they can put my back together, the Tagge medics can restore you.”

Anakin turned to Artur. “Can they do it? Regrow my body?”

Artur shrugged. “As long as there's still something organic inside that suit. It's gonna be slow, and extremely painful, but we can do it.” A contemplative pause. “But if Darth Vader disappears, the entire galaxy is going to go nuts. Besides, nobody can hide from Him. Or so I hear.”

“There are blind spots in the Force. Even for a Sith.”

Artur nodded, a plan forming in his brain. “Good. So we move you to one of those blind spots and... regrow you.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. The things money and lack of oversight can achieve.

The Tagge scion looked Anakin in the eyes. “There’s a prototype battle armor that TaggeCo is developing. We can modify the exterior to look like your suit for after the procedure. The galaxy is gonna need some stability once Palpatine is gone.”

“I never want to see that suit again. I'll breathe on my own, or not at all”, Anakin said softly. He was tired.

Yana nodded in understanding. There were times that she honestly wanted to stop breathing after she was torn away from her world and family. “Understood, sir. Do you want that suit burned or scrapped?”

Anakin smiled. He knew he liked her for a reason. “Burned, Ilyana. I don't want a single piece of it to survive or be usable.”

“When I was small, the Dreamwalkers would talk about artifacts that sapped life energy, but gave the user great power. I think that's for the best.” A twitch of a smile. She might just give this man her kyber turret prototype and see what it would take to destroy that suit.

Anakin smiled. A small, wain smile. “The myths I grew up with were all about Ekkreth. He was supposed to be our liberator, our vengeance against the depurs. Maybe, once the Old Bastard is gone I'll go back to Tatooine and finally make that happen.”

Yana smiled back at him. “I'll help you.”

A better destiny. Obi-Wan considered The Two. One not supposed to live, the other not supposed to be. “Now we just have to figure out how you disappear, Anakin.”

“Test-flying a new fighter is always a good bet.”

Artur looked at Obi-Wan. “Confirmed sightings of Kenobi in the Core?”

Anakin smirked. “That could work.”

Obi-Wan thought about it. It could work. Maybe. “It would have to be the Deep Core. Somewhere you can't be tracked at all.”

Artur opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought hard. Opened it again. “There is a facility... just one, in the Deep Core. We use it for more... controversial experiments. We can regrow you there if you can get to it without raising suspicion.”

Obi-Wan was watching Chaos at work. The living Force was always chaotic, and perhaps that was the Order's biggest error. He remembered an old story about a king trying to drive back the tide, but the ocean had its way, washing over the king and his castles of sand.

The Order was once that castle, the Council the king and Palpatine the wave. Now, the Empire was that castle, Palpatine the king, and The Dynasty was the ocean that would wash over the galaxy.

Obi-Wan listened carefully as they planned out details of his ‘sightings’ and ‘suspicious movements.’

Anakin idly noted that Piett and Veers would have a cat. Ozzel might stroke out again with any luck. He himself was all in. Operation: Tidal Force was underway.

Speaking of. “Artur, can you do something about Ozzel while I’m gone? Pretty sure he's a rebel plant.”

“Silent removal, sir?”

“That's preferable.”

“You got it, sir. I'll make some calls.”

Yana looked around. “How are we getting out of here?”

Artur shrugged. “Wait for the pain meds to wear off?”

“I think I might be in surgery, that's why I've been under for so long.”

“You're not. You're just doped up on painkillers and sedatives to let the bacta have maximum effect.”

“I’m on my way to Coruscant right now”, Obi-Wan chimed in. “Is Byss close to where Anakin’s going?”

Yana had never even heard of the place before. Artur had. “Not really, but it’s the closest planet to jump from. Still a four-day trip in hyperspace though.”

Obi-Wan nodded, looking at Yana. Why did she look familiar? He suddenly realized who she was. “You’re Cadet Yeet.”

Yana closed her eyes and swore like the sailor she was. Her Royal days really were coming back to haunt her. Anakin was confused. “Who?”

“Don’t ask, sir.”

Anakin made a note to look up ‘Cadet Yeet’ once they were done. If even Obi-Wan knew about it from the ass end of Tatooine, it was something worth looking into.

Yana felt the pain coming back. “I’m waking up soon. Everyone agree on the plan?” Nods all around. “Great. We’ll see you both soon.”

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

Recovery Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

She woke up fully if slowly, her back from shoulders to waist pounding like a rotten tooth. Those were some strange, strange dreams. The graft was a thin pink line. TaggeCo medical tech really was the best in the galaxy.

Artur was stirring from her right side. She hugged his head and gently ran a hand through his hair out of habit. He looked up at her. Blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “You had the same dream I had, right?”

“Lord Vader and the strange old man in the starlight world?”

“Yeah.”

They fell into a long-lost habit, Yana tucking herself into his chest while he propped himself up into a sitting position. “We’re really gonna stage a coup, huh?”

“Eventually, yeah. My family’s been planning this since Order 66.”

There was so much more Yana wanted to ask, but Yissa was waking up next to her. Artur gently pushed himself away and off the bed before she could see her wyf cuddling her ex. He knew how much loyalty meant to her. Wouldn’t help her cheat, not even with a cuddle.

Artur stumbled slightly as he went to the door. It was locked, programmed shut. “Override code: Tenno-Zero-Two.”

It refused to open. There was a note on the wall next to it. “I’m taking over temporarily. Get your shits together and sort yourselves out. This has gone on long enough – Lapin.”

That was the Voice of Domina speaking. The ‘or else’ was unspoken, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lapin meant the problems between him and Yissa. Speaking of, she was glaring a hole into the back of his head.

Oh, as they say, shit.

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blue-something-something · 1 year ago

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Yandere x reader

word count: 2,0k

Looking left and right, you came out from the other side of that cave. To be frank, you didn’t even know where exactly that cave came from, or where it led. But through all of your years living in the same place, it was getting more and more difficult to find new things to see in the forest. So a mysterious cave, whether you knew about its origin or not, was definitely worth venturing, no matter the danger it cost. Maybe it was some magick backlash from a wizard on the other side of the continent. You didn’t really care, as long as it wasn’t riddled with deadly traps, should be safe enough, magickal origins or not.

It wasn’t terribly exciting though, if you were asked to speak your opinion of it. The cave was boring enough. You did get lost in a few dead-ends here and there, but all in all, it was weirdly uninhabited, felt kinda unsettling, too. More reason to believe your magick-origin theories, but well, it wasn’t riddled with traps, so of that you couldn’t complain, not really.

Maybe you should’ve brought Wren. That kid was so excitable he would certainly find some fun even in a boring empty cave as this one was. There was no stick, tree or leaf that could ever bore him. He always had such wide open eyes, just staring at everything, and when not staring, blabbering. His eyes had a glimmer on them, as if he truly cared about everything he saw and said. It was silly and kinda funny how gullible he seemed to be, but then again, it was always soothing to have the boy there, with those agape pink lips and even pinker iris. His eyes were pink and so mesmerizing. You wondered if such a different eye color meant he could wield magick, but he was a poor peasant kid with no prospect of future, just like you, so your response to that leaned into a ‘no’.

Though again, Wren was an orphan taken in by the village in general, so who could say about his lineage. Magickal or not, he was a good buddy, and you loved him dearly for being with you for such a long time as he was. Not as if he had much of a choice, seeing you grew up together in your village of 30 people tops, but it was still sweet to have a long lasting friendship such as his. Lately however, he seemed to be changing a bit from his easily excitable self into something else, kind of.

He wasn’t becoming a grumpy moody guy, far from that. He just seemed to have become so much more……..How do you put this?........Possessive? Protective? You weren’t sure what word fit the context better here, but he seemed positively smitten by you every time you greeted him, his stance immediately relaxing as he approached you, a spring in each of his steps. After he would, without fail, loop his arms around your shoulder, chin leaning against your head as he would just, you weren’t sure, take your scent in? He wasn’t directly sniffing you, but his breathing pattern would just, deepen a bit? It was a bit weird, but he seemed to completely lose all the tension in his body after snuggling you for a bit.

Well, he did let go after a few seconds, so it wasn’t that big of an issue. Plus, you guys definitely weren’t strangers, so you didn’t feel invaded really. Just confusing behavior. It probably had to do with his developing feelings for you. It was impossible not to notice, and you tried lying to yourself in the past saying it was probably nothing. But at the stage things were currently, there was no way for you to even begin to attempt denial. You wouldn’t believe yourself.

Wren was……Sweet. His bright pink eyes, that pale sickly looking skin that’d flush the most adorable red when near you, short dark blond hair that was always matted due to how little he cared for it. You loved him dearly, the shine in his eyes, the way he’d blabber with you, looking so comfortable and cheerful. Nothing could ever bore him. He loved to stare and observe things. He loved to stare and observe you. He loved to blabber to you. He was so gullible when it came to things you told him. You wanted to have an existence outside of him. You were tired of people always assuming you both were so in love, just because he was. You may slowly grow romantic love for him, eventually, maybe. But the way things felt so forced because he was so eager. It was honestly draining.

That was one of the reasons why lately you decided to take more walks, take more breathers from him. He looked heartbroken every time you said “Hey, I’ll go on my own this time, you take care right?”, no matter how predictable it was that you’d say it. Hell, at this point, you two barely ever did anything together anymore. And as much as it hurt a bit, it hurt you more to realize how okay with being without him you were. You just needed…..Some time, maybe.

Or maybe what you needed was to leave Wren and this village altogether, you thought.

………………

Not like that was an option. It was way too comfortable to stay in Wren’s smothering arms, in this sugarcoated fantasy of a place where you’d undoubtedly always belong. It was boring, it was annoying, you wanted different and newer stimuli, but this was home. At least it had always been, you knew nothing else and you were sure life in a more crowded city would be much worse. You were just a poor peasant with no prospect of future, just like Wren. You could find solace in him. There was nothing for you out there. Your desires were paradoxal. The comfort of familiarity in Wren’s embrace, but the refreshing feeling of a place that no longer knew you, yet even so, would still willingly take you in without questions.

That was an impossible request, impossible thoughts. It was silly.

Now on the other side of the cave, you weren’t expecting what you saw: It was the same place you left from. As if you went through a hall of mirrors and came back to the very same entrance. Well, the forest looked a bit different, a few different trees from what you remembered when going in. But everything else, the forest trail was there, the position of the sky, it all looked so unsettlingly similar.

Though being completely fair, it wasn’t as if you expected it to be much different on the other side. As much as it certainly would’ve been nice and fun if the cave somehow turned out to be a portal to a waterfall of sorts, if it was indeed a portal, that’d mean the possibility of it leading you somewhere dangerous was just as likely and well; you preferred boring to dangerous. Boring was boring, predictable, safe.

Walking out, you looked left and right, eyes wide and observant, as if mentally playing a game of Spot the difference, you scanned thoroughly your surroundings, looking out for nothing in particular. A different tree over there, the breeze feeling slightly warmer than the side you came from, where were the small clouds of smoke in the sky coming from the village? Huh.

Wait. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. Movement. There’s a figure in the distance, humming to themselves. This was weird. Barely anyone came over on the side of the forest you usually wandered in. Well, maybe that cave was deeper than you thought? The important question is, should you approach even? It’s not like much harm could come out of this, probably.

………………

Well, you did come here to do new things, right? Might as well go through with it. They weren’t that far away, you could see them moderately well, open forest as it was. They were hunched over something you could not see. Their long brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, a few strands coming loose. The mysterious person seemed to be pretty strong, a very large back greeted you. Was it armor they were wearing?. They seemed to be humming something very softly, you could barely hear it, but noise traveled easy in such an open and empty space. Their voice was nice, deep and honeyed.

You weren’t far away when they just suddenly turned quiet, face sharpy turned in your direction, eyes narrowed as they — He? — slowly got up, posture completely tense and unwelcoming.

You were then hit with how handsome this person was. He was tall and certainly older than you, maybe in his late 30s to mid 40s? His eyes were…..red? No…..It was……Dark pink? Very pretty deep colored eyes, you almost couldn’t see his pupil, though to be honest this was probably because of the distance you were from him, but well. His bangs definitely were in need of a cut, they looked long and had been pulled behind his ear, a few hairs stubbornly still falling in front of his eyes.

As you previously guessed, he indeed was very well built, now that he stood, made it easier to see how generally…..sturdy, beefy he was. He easily towered over you and not only physically. There was…..something to him? He not only seemed intimidating and powerful, he felt like it too. Maybe there was some magick involved there. Not like you’d know.

Something more striking than how handsome or scary he was though, was how……similar to Wren he was. Their faces were identical, to the point where this guy just looked like an older version of him. Was this Wren’s father? If so, the guy looked loaded, wearing such expensive looking armor. Why the fuck did he ditch on Wren? You were feeling offended for your friend now, no matter how hot his dad was.

“Are you…..” You began. “Wren’s…..father?” You just realized how dumb your question was after you uttered it. Of course if this dude ditched his kid, he would probably have already forgotten all about them, plus there was no way for him to even know who Wren was, considering he showed up in the village as a newborn, without a name.

Instead of looking surprised or confused by your words, his eyes narrowed even more. He didn’t only seem unwelcoming now. He seemed aggressive. The same look a dog would have right before pouncing. It felt like an eternity before he actually opened his voice to say something.

“If this is an elaborate joke, I’d advise you to refrain from it lest I lose my patience and kill you where you stand.” His voice was sharp and clear. A warning came from it, deadly serious. He definitely could kill you, too.

That thought suddenly made itself present in your mind, and once its seed was planted, there was no way to avoid the sudden panic that came over you. It was a fucking terrible idea to explore alone, wasn’t it?

Regardless of how scared you were, it was still confusing how much this guy reminded you of Wren. In all wrong ways, none of the cheerful sparkleness of his.

“W-Who….Are you, then? If not Wren, w-why do you…..look so much like him?” You managed to slowly spit out, very cautiously and slowly, to try and calm him down a bit, or at least not anger him more.

It didn’t seem to work much to calm him down, his head tilting to the side as if you asked him a stupid question and was wasting his very precious time. Though after a few seconds, he rolled his eyes, closed his eyes for a second right before sighing and saying:

“I am Wren. What I wanna know though is what are you doing here in this forest closed off to the public—” He cut himself off” —most importantly from anything else: Why are you wearing their face?!”

#yandere x reader #x reader #yandere #tw:yandere #tw yandere

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draguta · 1 year ago

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.a court of fate and fortune | thirty.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

chapter warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (p in v)

chapter word count: 5209

a/n: sorry folks, i know this is a long one, but it had to be done! enjoyyyy

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The Passing Of Time

The Night Court wilderness was far from the plush comfort of Velaris. It was cold, closer in temperature to Windhaven, and the lines of trees seemed to stretch forever. It was endless, the walking, and the only thing that kept you moving was the knowledge that each step would take you closer to the end of the day, when the sentinels would light the fire and you’d be able to cuddle up in the tent with Lucien.

A week and a half passed, and you were entirely fed-up. Your body had been stiff from the end of the first day, and the muscle aches hadn’t dulled since then. Your mood hadn’t improved much either, and the others had noticed.

“I just don’t understand why we couldn’t just winnow,” you moaned as you slumped down onto the ground as Wren lit the fire, and Lucien prepared the tent behind you.

“Winnowing would defeat the point,” Bron chuckled. “If you’re looking for something, you can’t skip out half the area by winnowing. We might winnow right past her.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, and leaned back against your hands, stretching your legs and crossing your ankles, the only position you could sit in that would alleviate your burning muscles. “There has to be a better way than walking everywhere,” you muttered.

“Like what?” Silas asked with a raised brow, crouching down across the fire to begin skinning the two squirrels he’d caught earlier in the day for dinner. You grimaced as he slit one of the animals at the rear and began spreading the cut apart, sliding his dagger further in with each cut.

“This is Prythian, surely there’s some kind of magic that could make this easier for us?” You implored, tutting your tongue slightly in annoyance.

“Do you ever stop complaining?” Wren snorted, just as the flames of the fire began to grow, billowing in the crisp breeze - you didn’t want to remind them that Lucien had fire magic running through his veins, and could have lit the fire in seconds. If they wanted to practise their survival skills, you’d let them, and after eleven days trekking through the snowy landscape of what was considered the most dangerous court in Prythian, Lucien seemed to have no want in helping them either.

“No, she doesn’t,” Lucien remarked from behind you, coming to join the others now that the tent was erect. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before grabbing a knife to begin chopping some of the few veg your group had left to throw into the stew for dinner.

“I can remember someone being much worse on their first trailing trek,” Silas interjected, shooting Lucien a cunning smirk. Lucien grumbled something under his breath.

“So,” you said with raised brows, turning to Lucien, “you’ve spent all week telling me off for complaining, when you were just as bad?”

Lucien sucked in a harsh breath, the warmth of it hitting the icy air as he exhaled through his nose, forming a cloud in front of him. He tossed the knife to the ground at your feet and stood, turning away from you. “At least I actually help.”

You winced as he stalked off - perhaps your complaining had been a little overboard. But it was that complaining that had kept your focus, rather than the burning problem you were still trying to face. How to keep your little group away from Velaris.

“You’ve been to the Night Court before,” Hart said slowly. Your eyes snapped up to meet his pretty blue ones - he was younger than the others except for Wren, and was, out of the whole group, the only one you didn’t really know that well. Perhaps that was why he had asked such an impertinent question. The others flinched at his words; they all knew what your time in the Night Court had been like. Or rather, they knew what you wanted everyone in Spring to think of those months you were there - that you had been tortured and treated badly, that Rhysand was a ruthless dictator, and that the streets there ran red with blood. Hart, apparently, hadn’t heard those rumours, or was simply too naïve to care that bringing them up might have haunted you, had they been true. “Don’t you have any idea where they might be keeping her?”

Velaris. They were keeping her in Velaris, you were sure of it. Neither Azriel nor Rhysand had specifically said so, but you knew Rhys well enough by now to know that, if Feyre was no longer under Tamlin’s thumb and a threat to that city he loved so much, it would be there that he would take her to recover after the manor.

But you couldn’t take them there. None of these sentinels - Silas, Wren, Bron, Hart - not even Lucien, could know about Velaris. Not until you were sure they were safe, that they wouldn’t go and tell Tamlin, and ensure Velaris was turned into a target, rather than the safe sanctuary it had become over the years.

But that was just the problem - you didn’t even know where Velaris was from where you were there, trekking through the forests. You could have been walking right toward it, for all you knew. You’d only left Velaris twice during your time in the Night Court - once to visit the Moonstone Palace above Hewn City, and the other to go to Windhaven - and both times you had winnowed there, and couldn’t exactly make much note of the direction in which you were travelling.

Windhaven. In the mountains - that was easy enough to find. Simple enough to suggest Feyre was being kept with the Illyrian legions, considering it was no secret that Rhys’ armies were made up of the winged-faeries, and with its mountain position, it should be easy enough to find. Maybe - just maybe - you could take them toward Windhaven, and hope that they would give up before they even got there, or the Illyrians would scare them off before they found any trace of Feyre or Rhysand - any mention of Velaris.

“There was one place they took me,” you said slowly, schooling your voice to sound as if it were trembling, as if you were scared to even say the words. “It was the only time they took me out of wherever it was they were keeping me - somewhere called Windhaven.”

“Windhaven?” Lucien asked, turning back around at your confession, eyes narrowed. You nodded firmly.

“It was snowy - somewhere in the mountains I think,” you said softly. “Maybe that’s where they’re keeping Feyre.”

Silas looked up to Lucien, who nodded his head in confirmation. “It’s the closest thing to a lead we’ve got,” Lucien said, moving to position himself beside you on the ground again.

“Do you think you’d be able to work out the direction?” Silas asked, actions frozen, dagger hanging limply from his hand. You swallowed once.

“Probably,” you said truthfully - at least that wasn’t a lie. “If I can get a good view, if we could find a clearing or something, I think I’d be able to find the mountain range.”

A hand clamped down on your shoulder - Bron, from somewhere behind you - as he said, “Good job, Y/N.”

Lucien smiled gently, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him, resting his chin on your head as he inhaled sharply. “Thank you, my love,” he said, quiet enough that it was only audible to your ears. “I’m sorry I’ve been so moody recently. This place…it has me on edge.”

You closed your eyes, shuffling closer to his warmth. “It’s okay.”

“You’re sure about this Windhaven place?” Lucien asked slowly.

You shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s the only place I can think of.”

Another lie. Another deceit to your friends - your mate, and the people you loved the most - to add to the list of mistruths you’d already spewed to them. How would they feel if they were ever to find out how many times you’d duped them? Would they ever forgive you?

You couldn’t think about that now. Not with Lucien's warmth seeping into your chilled bones. Not with the fire flickering a comforting orange glow toward you in the dimming night. Not with the smell of the stew, already beginning to bubble in the pot above the fire, wafting toward you, making your mouth water. Not surrounded by your friends.

Three weeks, and you could have sworn your exhaustion had become tangible. You could feel it in the air around you with every step you took, as if it were a force pushing against you, making each and every footstep forward more difficult than the last. You’d made a silent promise to yourself to never travel across courts by foot again - Lucien could take you everywhere with him, so long as you were winnowing or riding.

You’d spotted that familiar mountain range, the one you were sure was home to the Windhaven camp, weeks ago, and your group had been trekking that way ever since. It loomed over you, high above the frost-coated tree tops, a marker of the end to your journey. It seemed to grow colder the closer you got to it, and it almost felt as if it grew taller, more intimidating, with each and every step in its shadow.

Your mood hadn’t improved much either, and the others were catching onto that. They were beginning to realise how you grew more defiant, slower in your pace, the closer to the steppes you got. You prayed they wouldn’t work out that you were trying to delay them as much as you could.

But Lucien knew something was wrong, you could tell from the way his eyes remained almost constantly trained on you, and how no matter where you went, he always seemed to be at your side. Of course he knew something was wrong, he knew you better than anyone else. But you refused to give him an inch, no matter how much you wanted to tell him exactly why you were acting like such a brat, why you were constantly complaining and asking for breaks. You would keep that to yourself for now, for the sake of Rhys and the Inner Circle - your friends. For the sake of Velaris.

“What is it, Y/N?” Lucien asked one night once the pair of you were safe inside your tent. You were camped so close to the steppes now that it unnerved you, with only the hiking climb upward remaining until you were at Windhaven. The others were asleep already, long-since hunkered down in their own tents surrounding the fire, and whilst Lucien had retired to bed a while ago, an hour or so after you had, he’d remained staring at the ceiling of the tent, not even attempting to sleep. Until now.

“What do you mean?” You asked, roused from your peaceful doze. You rolled over, turning to look at him. He narrowed his eyes toward you as if trying to see you properly in the dim orange glow from the fire outside that seeped through the crack in the tent flaps; his golden eye seemed to glow of its own accord in the darkness. The Night Court was always so dark.

“I feel like you’re keeping something from me,” he said softly. There was something there, laced into his tone - hurt. “I didn’t think we would keep secrets from each other anymore.”

“I’m not keeping anything from you,” you replied. You shuffled further down into your bed, peering up at him from under your blankets. “Why would you think I was keeping something from you?”

“All of the complaining, and the breaks, and the changes in route that you’re insisting upon,” he commented, not trying to hide the irritation in his tone. He was right - you had suggested they change route on more than one occasion, pulling them further into the wilderness to loop back around for no other reason than to offer time. “It’s like you’re trying to delay us.”

“I’m not-”

“What is it you’re keeping from me, Y/N?” He said again, firmer this time.

‘Tell him,’ a little voice in your head said. ‘Tell him about Velaris.’ You had been certain that Velaris was the closest thing to a home you were going to find in Prythian, but it had always felt like there was something missing there. You’d realised, after a great deal of thought, that the missing thing was Lucien, and had since spent days fantasising over what your lives would look like in the City of Starlight together. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to tell him just so you could see that fantasy play out. But-

But it wasn’t time for that, not now. Not when the whole world was turning upside down around you. Velaris had to remain hidden, for now - had to remain safe.

You reached upward, clasping his face gently between your hands. His warmth seeped into your palms despite the cold - he was always warm, a trait from his Autumn Court blood that you were particularly fond of, especially in the icy wilds of the Night Court, where the frost bit at your fingers and threatened hypothermia with each passing day.

“I’m not keeping anything from you,” you whispered, glancing between his eyes, the way they danced from your own eyes, down to your lips, and back up again.

“Then you’re doing it just to frustrate me,” he ground out. In an instant he was rolling on top of you, pinning you in place beneath him, hair falling around you both like a canopy of Autumn leaves. “Are you doing it just to piss me off, Y/N? Do you want me to get angry?”

“No,” you whispered. He was so close - if you moved upward just an inch your lips would be against his. It had been so long. He hadn’t touched you since Hybern. His hands planted themselves over your own, stroking tenderly at the backs of your palms.

“You’re so cold,” he noted, voice low and whispered. “Perhaps you want to rile me up so I would come in here and warm you up.”

His hands were moving down your arms now, caressing the skin, warming every inch of you. They reached your shoulders, squeezing once at the flesh there, and then moved down, along your ribs, to your hips, to the band of your trousers.

“No, Lucien,” you whispered. “I-I would never.”

His thumbs hooked into your waistband, pulling them down over your hips, underwear sweeping over your thighs at the same time, pooling around your knees. You expected the chill to hit your bare skin, to make you all-too aware of how much you wanted him then, but the sharp sting of the cold never came. In fact, the tent had warmed up immensely. Lucien threw you a cocky smirk - he had heated the tent, enough that you could both strip off a small amount of your layers, enough that you might connect your bodies properly.

His hand slid between the pair of you, the knuckle of one of his fingers brushing over your wetness, eliciting a gasp from you that made Lucien chuckle as he pulled at the strings of his trousers, releasing his length to rest against your thigh.

“You mean to tell me this wasn’t what you planned?” He asked, leaning in to ghost the words across your skin where your shoulder met your neck. It was so warm, so alluring, that it made your mouth water, made you arch up from the sleep mat to meet his body. As your pebbled nipples - visible even through the thick shirt that you had worn to bed, met with his chest, you felt him twitch against your thigh, smearing his arousal against your skin. “You mean to tell me this wasn’t what you wanted?”

One agonisingly slow thrust and he was inside you to the hilt, and a moan reverberated through your chest, louder than intended. But that feeling, of being so full of him again, of feeling him so deep…you couldn’t help yourself. He rolled his hips again, slowly grinding his body against yours as his lips travelled up your neck to your jawline, nipping and sucking.

“I always want you,” you breathed out. He groaned, seeming to involuntarily buck his hips toward you as if your words themselves were close to breaking the leash he’d given himself; the action caused your eyes to roll back and another moan to escape your lips.

“Quiet my love,” he said against your skin, leaning up to nibble at your bottom lip. His hips rolled again, and he found a rhythm, slow and passionate and enough to have your toes curling and your hands reaching up to clutch at his arm, his hair, his back - anywhere that you could reach. “You wouldn't want the others to wake up and hear those beautiful noises you make for me would you?”

He bit down harder on your lip, dragging it between his teeth and pulling it away from your teeth to suck at it. His rhythm became stronger, harder, and you could feel that coil tightening inside you as he hit you perfectly each and every time.

As he pulled up at your leg, it slipped from the confines of your trousers, and he hoisted it up over his hip, leaning down to press sloppy, quick kisses to the skin of your inner thigh.

“Look at this,” he murmured, his voice so low, so feral, that it sent sparks right down to your core. Your eyes fluttered open and found his as they fell down to where the two of you were connected. You followed his eyeline, watching as he sank himself deep into you with each thrust. “Look how well you take me, my love. Look how perfectly we fit together.”

“M-Made for each other,” you stuttered out. His eyes snapped up to yours, and you could see the concentration written into the lines on his face - he was trying not to find his pleasure too soon, was trying to wait so the pair of you could cross that line and fall into ecstasy together.

“We were made for each other,” he confirmed, snapping his hips harder into you, accenting each word with a wave of pleasure that shot through you, tingling through your entire body like the fire that ran through his veins. “There is no one else in this world for me, my love. Only you.”

“M-Me too,” you managed, arching your back again, offering him the perfect angle to lean down and nibble at your neck, likely leaving behind a purple bruise that you’d struggle to explain to the others the next day. “O-Only you, Lucien.”

A harsh snap of his hips, hitting you in the perfect spot that had you mumbling his name incoherently. “So, will you stop trying to piss me off then?” He asked. Another harsh thrust and a tug of your hair. “Otherwise I may not warm you up again.”

“I-I will,” you stuttered. A bite of his teeth to that purple bruise on your neck, another sharp thrust that had your legs shaking - so close. You were so close.

“Good girl,” he said, snaking his free hand down between your bodies, never letting up the new relentless pace that he had set. “Then come for me, Y/N.”

And you did. His fingers caressed your clit, and your body shattered, pieced itself back together, and then shattered again. Your legs shook, but he held you in place, savouring every second of your pleasure. And when you clenched, it threw him over the edge alongside you, spilling himself into you with a low whisper of your name.

Then there was a light - a different kind of light to the soft glow of the fire outside. This seemed to burst through the darkness of the tent, as if the very sun had fallen from the sky to share in your pleasure. But it wasn’t the sun, you realised as you squinted your eyes open, but rather Lucien. His skin glowed a dazzling brightness that encased the pair of you in rays of golden light. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his mouth parted slightly as his climax washed through him, and then as his high and yours together began to fade, the light dimmed until it was nothing more than a slight light dancing in his eye.

“What was that?” You breathed out as he slumped against your chest, ear pressed against your skin as though he were listening for your heart.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s never happened before. Maybe…Maybe it’s just some remnant of my fire power.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, brushing a hand over his silken hair. But you knew that the light that had shone from him like a beacon was not the light of a fire. That had been a different light, brighter and clearer.

Morning brought with it a crisp dew that lay against the fallen snow from the night before. Everyone huddled around the now extinguished fire, bundled up in the warmest clothes to battle against the breeze that the day’s trek would bring with it, scoffing down the remnant of last night’s dinner and a few pieces of weeks-old fruit that Hart had found in his pack, for breakfast.

“You know,” Silas said eventually, the words fighting their way around the chattering of his teeth. “You two could have at least tried to be quiet last night. Some of us were trying to sleep, you know.”

You paused mid-bite of your apple, eyes wide in shock. A flush crept its way up your neck and coated your cheeks - embarrassment and guilt were the root cause. “I-I didn’t know you could hear us.”

“It’s not like this place is particularly noisy,” Wren pointed out with a knowing smirk. “Sound carries.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, looking to Lucien in shock. But to your surprise, the emissary simply curled his lips, seemingly holding back a laugh.

“You don’t need to apologise to him, Y/N,” he chuckled. “I’ve heard far worse things coming out of that dormitory of theirs.”

Silas shot Lucien a smirk. “Oh yes, you definitely don’t need to apologise,” the commander retorted. “Maybe next time, you should just invite me to join in instead. I hate to be left out of all the fun.”

Your jaw practically dropped. “You’re joking, right?”

“He’s definitely not joking,” Bron cut in with a snigger. “Silas jokes about many things, but that is not one of them.”

“Well,” Lucien said with a shrug, challenging eyes trained on the commander, “maybe we can arrange it. It sounds like an agreeable idea if you ask me.”

You turned your shocked expression on Lucien. “Are you serious?”

“Well, why not?” Lucien countered. “He’s a good-looking fellow.”

You shook your head, standing bolt upright in a second and moving to pack away your tent, mumbling under your breath, “It’s too fucking early for this.”

The sounds of raucous male laughter echoed after you.

You pondered that light for the following days as your group began the ascent up the mountain side. You had never seen magic like it, not in either of the courts you had visited before, nor Under the Mountain. It seemed so…distinctive. So special.

The bond, you had come to the conclusion. It had to be the bond. Perhaps the bond had snapped into place for Lucien that night at last, and he simply hadn’t realised it. Although how he couldn’t have noticed that tie between the two of you, you weren’t sure. Why he had glowed like that when that hadn’t happened when it had snapped for you, you didn’t know. And why the far end of that bond between you still felt so void, you had no idea.

So many questions.

Yet, five days later after the camp was set up between the trees on the side of that steppe, you made a decision, and quickly got to work skinning the rabbit Wren had caught that afternoon. It was gruesome work, and you had to admit that you didn’t know the first thing about cooking really, but you did you best, and worked through it, even with the blood and grime and entrails that buried themselves under your nails.

“You made this?” Silas asked with a raised eyebrow as you handed him the bowl of rabbit stew. It looked okay, you thought - perhaps not as good as the stew Silas usually made, but good enough for consumption.

“Yes, didn’t you see me toiling away over the fire all evening?” You snarked in reply, handing Wren and Bron their bowls as well.

“Well yes, but are you sure Lucien or Wren didn’t make this and you just pretended you did?” Silas asked, cautiously taking a spoonful and sniffing it. You rolled your eyes, reaching over to take the final two bowls from him.

“I made it,” you said. “And it’ll taste damn good too.”

You turned then, and handed that final bowl to Lucien. He barely even noticed, mumbling a thank you and returning to sharpening his blade. But you perched there beside him, watching from the corner of your eye. He had no idea how momentous this moment was for you, and you could only hope that the bond had snapped, and that this…this would work. It would work, because if it didn’t, you didn’t know what you would do.

And when he took that first spoonful, you held your breath, watching and waiting. He hummed, nodding his head in satisfaction at the taste, but-

Nothing. There was no miraculous moment of clarity, no realisation in his eyes that he was sat beside his mate. There was nothing but the grateful groans of hungry males and the sound of them slurping up the stew you had made.

It hadn’t worked.

And for some reason, you’d barely been able to look at Lucien for the rest of the night.

“How do we even know Feyre will be at Windhaven?” Silas asked as the group pushed their way further up the mountain, coming to a stop at a flat plane that hung from the side of the steppe, blanketed in forestry.

“We don’t,” Lucien said, shooting you a look that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Frustration, no doubt, as you had changed the route once again. They still hadn’t given up though, not even after four weeks of endless trekking and any distraction that you could think of. Lucien knew - he had said as much - that you were doing it on purpose, but you prayed he didn’t work out the reason, that you were doing it to keep Feyre hidden from them in the hopes that they would surrender to their exhaustion and head home to tell Tamlin it was a pointless mission.

“But it’s our best hope, right?” Wren interjected, looking between Lucien and you and back again.

“It’s the only lead we have,” Lucien explained, pressing his lips into a tight line. He turned to you fully, coming to a stop. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“I’ve only been to Windhaven once,” you countered. “And we winnowed there. It’s not like I went trekking through the damned forest.”

Lucien clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is a waste of time,” he finally said, turning away from you to look out over the forest below, stretching as far as the eye could see, and the mountains that reached upward in the far distance. “It might be our only lead, but we’ve been walking aimlessly here for weeks, wasting precious time.”

“Then let’s go home,” you suggested, reaching forward to take his hand. But when he looked at you, there was fire flashing in his eyes.

“Without Feyre?” He asked. “I know you said that she’s in no danger, that she’s okay. But we have orders, Y/N, to take her back to Spring with us.”

“And if we don’t go to Windhaven, how do you propose we find her?” You countered. The shuffle of awkward feet sounded from the sentinels behind you, but you didn’t pay it any heed. “Do we just keep wandering the wilderness until we find any sign of her?”

Lucien turned to you fully then, shoulders broad and jaw gritted. “If Feyre thought you were in any kind of danger, or needed any kind of help, do you really think she would hesitate to try and find you?” He huffed a breath through his nose. “I know you say that there is no threat to her, but I can’t believe that enough to confirm it to Tamlin, unless I see it with my own eyes first.”

“So, you think I’m a liar?” You asked in disbelief. You didn’t care that Silas and the others were hearing the truth of your opinion on the Night Court, didn’t care if they thought it was true or not.

“No,” Lucien countered. “But I do think you’re keeping something from me - from us - and I’m yet to work out why.”

You breathed out a bitter laugh. “The Night Court is not the place you think it is, Lucien.”

“How can I know that?” Lucien asked, the anger rising in his voice.

“Because you should trust me, just as I trust you,” you snapped in return. “The Night Court is not filled with monsters and enemies. We have a common enemy - Hybern. So please, just trust me on this.”

“Perhaps, if you love it so much, maybe you should stay here then,” Lucien bit back. “You are close to Night’s High Lord after all. Maybe a little too close.”

You stared at him in shock - shock at the words he had thrown at you like weapons. And they hurt like weapons too, as if each and every one of them was a dagger aimed at your heart. Because he wasn’t meant to think of you like that, not now. Not when he knew you wouldn’t fall into any other male’s bed, not when he knew he was the only person you would ever love.

So you spun on your heel, ignoring his shouts of your name and apologies that trailed after you, and stalked into the forest. You didn’t know where you were walking to, only that you needed to get away from him, to get away from the thoughts that were pelting you relentlessly.

'Whore, whore, whore. Dirty whore.'

However, the words eddied and died with every breath, every step away from them that you took. You just needed a minute, and then you would go back and apologise for running them ragged trekking in circles, and would listen to his unending apologies too; you could think of more than a few ways you could make it up to each other that night.

But the rustle of something behind you caused you to freeze. Something was moving in the brush - footsteps sounded, slow and predatory, and they were heading your way. Your hand fell to the amber-encrusted hilt of your sword, and you turned slowly, carefully.

What you saw waiting for you between the trees made your heart stop.

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heinous-desiree · 1 year ago

Note

Crack my knuckles

Ok here we go

Hunter the scandalous or Hun for short:

Backstory:

Hun is a cuban immigrant who came to town with their parents and 2 siblings (they are triplets) on ship for a chance to a better life, unfortunately a storm came by the ship and a lot of people on it died including Hun's Parents, but luckily the triplets had survived

They were sent to the orphanage with their siblings, as they grew old bailey sent them to different districts, Hun hasn't seen his 2 siblings ever since

She later met Robin and become friends with him, Hun saw he was one of the rare genuine people who didn't want her for her body and promised to protect him at all cost

She learnt the hard to earn money by selling their body on the Street or the brothel in the night, in the morning the work on the dock, with large size and defiant behavior they gained the workers respect

Somehow got the angel transition (because they refused to give their virginity away to a stranger) and immediately gave it Robin once he claimed him as Li, they thought he was worth everything including their last bit of innocence after that they didn't have anything to lose

Ofc they were sent to asylum and that was the first time they met Harper

Hun were defiant as fuck and therefore increased the suspicious

They got along pretty with other patients

Fucked Harper at some point to decrease the suspension (yap they pegged him to the oblivious)

Eventually they got out the asylum and met kylar after that

They used him for free sex and building the lab in the orphanage other than that they would avoid him like a plague in the school, didn't want to ruin their reputation by associating themselves to him

Whitney has taken a liking to him and even with his high reputation he would still bully Hun and ofc Hun didn't engaged in his bullshit and therefore lowering Whitney's dominance

Ofc at some point Whitney tried to sell Hunter for that but it didn't work out and ofc the dealers tried to take him instead, Hunter had metal battle that day about saving him or not but at the end they saved him anyway

They tried to play it off by saying they were in a good mood that day but the truth is that he had been in the underground brothel before (because bailey sold her at some point) and she knew the kind of shit that was happening there and never wished for someone to go through the same experience not even Whitney, plus and even he won't admit that Whitney's crying remind Hun Of themselves when they would beg bailey not to send them away, I guess Hun's hatred (?) Toward Whitney comes from the fact that he remind them of themselves maybe even they would have been worse if they didn't have Robin in their life

They met Sydney in the library and started to flirt just to fuck with him, Sydney was having non of that

Caught Hun Masturbating in the church and tried to punish them, Hun ofc beat the shit out of him but Sydney got a sudden awakening and was into it, Hun (being corruption kink mf) realized that immediately 😏

After fucking around with Sydney and corrupting (mostly piss Jordan off) they realize they might have a tini tiny crush on him and wanted more than just being fwb

That's why they immediately return his feeling and even joint the church for him (mostly to be able fuck him in that prayer room) ofc they didn't give 3 fucks about the chastity vow

Met both of Eden and great hawk by trying to retrieve Landry boxes

Dumbass got caught again by black wolf on his way to Eden's house 💀

On the good side they beat the shit out of black wolf and became the new Alpha

Met Avery when they were trying to get lichen for science project, only dates him for his money and good reputation

Send into jail 2 time, the second time was get kylar out

The prisoners think they are the boss, the guards are quite fond of her (they gave her their names) but still keep eye on them

Yes they pegged scarred inmate

Speaking of jail, they are good friends with wren he thinks she's inspiring, Hun would beat his ass in the blackjack just to burn down Remy's farm (even if it was meant to lose some clothes on the way)

Upgraded Alex's farm, all the animals respect her, Alex depends on them

And yes they used to be fwb before they start dating

Doesn't fucking use in the concept of condoms you would be surprised how they didn't get STDs by now💀

Has a lot of fucking kids and refuses to pay child support 💀

Despite that surprisingly they are somewhat a good parents, and visit his children whenever they have time

They dream of escaping the town and take Robin with them along with the children and never look back

Want to build nursery for her children in the farm but they doubt bailey would let her take them out of the orphanage

All in all hunter is outgoing, flirty dumbass, with charming and charismatic personality that makes anyone wants a piece of them if you didn't already fuck him and a party animal who won't stop until it's dawn

And even after all that they still starve for real connection with someone and Robin is the closest thing to that maybe even Sydney

Once you get her on your side she's your ride or die to the end

"What's up? Acting all scared and shit, don't worry I don't bite, unless you ask nicely ;)"

as response to your Hunter

They chuckle in amusement "oh I'm sure you would, darling! can't wait to see what that pretty head of yours might come up with, and if you want-" they take a step forward and lean into him "I can help you come up with some.... ideas " they try to smile innocently but the glint in their eyes doesn't leave much to imagination of what they actually mean

-🦤

HUNTER THE SCANDALOUS.

Oh lord, wow, thank you for your hard work. HUNT-Y HAS BEEN AROUND. Talk about falling off a cliff and landing on every branch along the way...

Hunter 🤝 Hunter, gotta catch them all-

They are cool, they are cute, I wanna hug them-

Hunter the Allrounder

A genuine warm laugh escaped the wolf boy at their response, eyes crinkled but also dark with interest.

"I think you'll be helping me with something, not sure if it'd be ideas, Hun-ny..." Despite how lax his posture is, leaning lazily into the other Hunter's space, his tail was moving a bit faster, his voice dropped a few octaves lower, "maybe I'll ask for your help later, Tweety."

He moved close, fangs out, and looked ready to nip at their ear. Except, he pecked their ear shell, quietly huffing out a laugh. He was quick to back away with a playful grin.

"Of course... To help me, you'd have to be able to keep up with me. All the best, Hun!"

#meet #hunter the scandalous #everyone!#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol pc #thatdodoanon #🦤 anon #hunter the allrounder #I AM SO INVESTED IN YOUR HUNTER #THEY ARE SO... EVERYTHING?#DAMN THAT WAS SO DETAILED 💕#thank you for gibbing me your pc #as per usual i *sucks pc into vacuum*#thanks for the meal #❤️

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kabukibun · 1 year ago

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i think its both, but he acts differently for both?? oneechan gepard seems like more of a puppy younger brother who wants to please you and get his big sister's praise at all costs. but imouto gepard is a protective big brother who's a little strict, but also wants to spoil you with love. you're only his lil sister >:| type of siscon fr

wren never failing to feed my delusions www

we’ve seen what lil brother gepard is like, i can’t wait until they show us how he is as a big brother !! gepard secretly practicing your hobbies so he has something to talk to his neechan about. he also sees it as an opportunity to be praised for seemingly being such a natural when he finally shows off. he seems so serious and cool while on duty but then you show up and you can see his eyes lighten and his body perk up. it’s like he’s saying “neechan!!” with his body language alone.

that scene were he yells at serval.. could totally see imouto pout if he were to ever do the same to her cuz he never yells at her. gepard spoils his lil sis a little toooo much, but is still very strict and conservative about how she spends her time. even if she teases with a “niiiiichan.” he’ll blush before steeling himself and nudging her to continue her lessons. he def uses all his breaks to spoil her with a lunch date!

#—gepard #gepard chases away any potential suitors ESPECIALLY the guards wwww

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fatedwithmbc · 1 year ago

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I love break week. There’s something about NOT having to take those purple Alka-Seltzer sized tablets that makes me feel the tiniest bit normal. Aside from still having moderate levels of fatigue, my dysphagia has taken a break from disrupting my eating and I’m sleeping well.

I’m making my leave of absence goals happen too. I may be sleeping late, but I am getting physical movement or chores done every day. I am getting my ass out of bed and doing shit. I’m proud of my new self- but also mourning the old self who could run circles around new me.

The grill I bought yesterday was delivered today. It’s all set-up, tested and now safely covered. I was able to get the old one out to the front yard (Mom-Mom helped with some of the harder parts, i.e. porch stairs). And now I just need to pray that a scrapper will drive by and snag it up Thursday night/Friday morning.

Aside from that, I filled the bird feeder. Checked on the brood in our bird house (still chirping away) which is a highlight for me. Just hearing those little guys and knowing they were born and are being cared for in a couple pieces of wood just makes me happy. And I feel protective of them even though I can’t see them. I see the parents though. The males are known to be aggressive, so I am very careful when I approach the underside of the birdhouse just to get an earful of their warbling. They are House Wrens (if I identified the adults correctly).

Next was filling Bailey’s water dish and watering the Dragon Tail I received from my friend Allace. It was sheer irony that she picked that plant to give me as it was one of my Dad’s favorites. He would select them for his own garden, when he decided to create and tend to one. He had a green thumb and could care for a plant instinctively, without instruction. I think a tiny bit of that may have been passed down to me as I’ve been able to keep my African Violet growing and healthy- same with our Prayer Plant and a Shamrock that I repotted (it had been on it’s last legs and last sprig). It has thrived since repotting. Same with our Wandering Jew. I have a few more I’d like to replant by the end of summer: a Christmas Cactus, a Bird’s Nest Snake plant and I’ll probably find something to nurse at Primex.

Plants aside, I completed the “chores” I had. Mostly admin tasks to ensure my leave of absence is on track to end when my doctor indicated and not earlier. I also enrolled in a vendor program called Prudent RX that will aid me with the costs of my cancer medication until my deductible is met. This will be a huge help. Insurance pays $13,000 per month for this drug and that is definitely not in the realm of affordable for this average “Jane”. I contacted my nurse navigator to get a definitive answer as to where my lab work needs to be completed. I’ve always gone to the cancer center, but I need to ensure it’s in-network and that I don’t need to use Quest or LabCorp. I suspect I’ll have to go outside of the cancer center. I also made an outreach to a local woman who unfortunately lost her teenage son to cancer. She created a foundation and I contribute what I can since it’s inception. But ultimately, I was asking if she had a suggestion for a support group. This was a suggestion from Cheryl and such a good one as now I have a woman who has MBC that I can talk to- who wears my shoes, feels my feelings, and is still coping and living despite the diagnosis.

With the medical chores completed, I was finally able to drop off my Sister-In-Law’s Mother’s Day gift. We were able to spend some time chatting which was nice. It’s been awhile since her and I had some time together- well, my last visit with all of them was Easter and/or Jackson’s first T-Ball game. He has another one tomorrow that I hope to make it to. I briefly saw my brother before they had to pick Jackson up from school.

I went to Starbucks prior to stopping back home to change into sneakers for Walking Wednesday with Brian. We walked about 3ish miles. I didn’t wear my watch or bring my phone, so this is a guesstimate. I like not having my phone or watch - it makes me more present as to what’s on the trail and by the water (animals; mostly the birds, today some deer) and more present in my conversations with Brian. Gosh, I’m just so lucky he was chosen and accepted the role of my God Father. He has been so amazingly supportive. He’s encouraged me to walk everyday, but I’m not sure I’m there yet. I also told him about my blog, and stressed it’s anonymous with the exception of a few close friends and family who know about it. I’m on the fence about sharing with him. He encouraged my writing, stating it’s cathartic and it is. I don’t do this because I’m “good” at it. I do it to clear my mind and my heart. Am I betraying him by not sharing this with him? More food for thought.

I still have my two big projects: yarn donation and closet clean out. I’ll start on them, but they feel overwhelming- maybe because it means I am getting rid of things. I have unusual sentimental attachment to things. Clothes and yarn typically don’t fall into that space, but I don’t know how else to explain the avoidance of either task aside from them requiring significant effort. I will do these things. They will get done. Shoot, I’ve done more difficult things (my small contribution to cleaning out Dad’s apartment).

Well, as midnight approaches, I’m going to let my magical Apple Ring Hybrid Gummy help me drift off to dream land.

El fin.

#fated with mbc #confessions of a cancer patient #stage iv deserves more #metastatic breast cancer #stage iv metastatic breast cancer #breast cancer

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dutyworn · 1 year ago

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@parameddic / cont. from ↷

She nods, grateful, shifting her attention down to the pool table, or at least pretending to do so. Taking her time to align her angles. Thinking.

She misses what should’ve been an easy shot, huffs as she straightens up (it’s a friendly game but she’s competetive and it was a stupid miss), leans onto her cue stick.

Wren likes that about TK; that he’s an open book. There’s something so guarded and jaded in herself, as easygoing as she tries to be (but it’s so much effort), seeing something opposite of it in someone... Wren doesn’t have siblings, but TK feels like a younger brother; like a lot of... joy, she supposes, but also something to be protected at all costs.

It’s because he lets it go so easily, because he doesn’t try to pry, doesn’t put any pressure on her, that she wants to offer something. Most people... most people would regard her as a walking red flag, with her unfamiliarity with tons of things that are everyday for everyone else, with her murky past and her unwillingness to share anything about it. TK was her first friend, here. (Connor she’d call a friend, but she calls people friends easily; he was probably more an ally, someone who showed her kindness, back in Detroit.) She wants to give him something. It’s just that it’s so difficult to... even begin to share, without either fabricating truths within lies or sounding completely insane.

❝ I grew up homeless, ❞ she offers, softly. It’s not what he asked about. But it’s something both simple and personal. An offering of sorts. A show of trust: sharing, because she wants him to know her. She rubs her nape, feeling a little awkward about it, her tone pretty matter-of-fact. ❝ Lived in an... orphanage, of sorts? Since I was a baby. Ran away when I was ten. Lived on the streets with other kids. So... that’s why I don’t have a degree, or anything. Didn’t go to school after that. I had some further education as an adult, but... nothing official. ❞ She, technically, did her GED during her early military training, but it’s not as if she can get that recognised, here.

#parameddic #remembered this some days ago when trying to sleep #daydreamed through the reply lol #; the winter pretends it's mild and holds her ❪ verse / crossover. ❫#; parameddic / 006 #; tk strand & wren shepard ❪ parameddic / connection. ❫

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my-head-is-an-animal · 2 years ago

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Happy Wednesday

Chapter 11

Harold sat in the car with Reese driving, he held the necklace he’d given you in his hand, wondering if you’d allow him to give it back or if it would be too painful.

‘One day.’ Harold mused. Reese gave him a quick glance. ‘One day away from two years together, I asked her to marry me. And I died the day after.’

‘You did what you thought was best.’ Reese tried to convince him. ‘You were protecting her.’

‘Protecting her has never been a difficult job, Mr Reese.’ Harold shook his head. ‘Her whole existence since I’ve known her has been about keeping people safe. She never asked for anything, she didn’t care about money or material things, she cares about people, and she willingly invests herself in life. All she ever wanted from me was honesty and for someone to genuinely care for her… I broke my one promise and ever since that day, I’ve wondered if I ever deserved to marry her.’

Reese said nothing, there was nothing he could say to make any difference to what Harold thought of himself. He thought he didn’t deserve you, he put you in danger and you had no right to forgive him.

They pulled up outside a warehouse close to the docks, it was getting dark and Harold wondered how any of your security team would see anything. Harold watched them get out of their cars, arm up and prepare themselves to head inside.

‘Mr Reese, I imagine I will regret asking this,’ he started, swallowing nervously. ‘But Seb mentioned that Miss Brooke was dangerously close to the cut off, what exactly did he mean by that?’

Reese just closed his eyes and sighed; he debated answering for a moment. ‘It means… there’s only so long someone can… they’ll find her Finch.’ Reese could sense his discomfort. ‘You know what, I’m going to make sure they find her.’

Harold went to say something, but Reese was already out of the car and following the security team inside.

It was barely five minutes of waiting patiently, but Harold couldn’t just leave your fate up to others. Harold got out of the car, putting your necklace in his pocket and making his way towards the door he’d seen Reese enter.

Harold couldn’t hear anything for a moment before the sounds of gunshots came from down a corridor. You wouldn’t be held anywhere that could be easily accessed, but luckily Harold had memorised the floor plan, he knew where he was going and it was away from the fighting.

He carefully made his way towards the other end of the warehouse, staying alert and finding the room he was sure you’d be in.

Harold peeked through the window and saw the one thing he never wanted to see. You were limp, tied to a chair, blood covered most of your skin and one guard sitting, smoking whilst holding a gun.

‘Mr Reese.’ Harold whispered, knowing he couldn’t go in alone, he needed you safe at all costs.

‘Little busy here, Finch.’ Reese answered with the additional noises of gun fire in the background.

‘I found Miss Brooke.’ Harold quickly darted into another corridor so he wouldn’t be heard by the man guarding you.

He told Reese where he was, a minute later Reese and Seb were clearing the corners.

‘Mr Wren,’ Seb spoke quietly. ‘I am aware of your relationship with Miss Brooke, but I will advise you to keep your distance. Reese and I will clear the room, you stay here until we return.’

Harold wasn’t happy about it, but he nodded anyway and watched as Seb and Reese went in. He heard shooting and a little physical disruption, but the one thing that had Harold running into the room was your scream.

It was muffled by a bloody gag, but you were crying and trying to get free from the cable ties that were digging into your wrists and ankles. Seb had been caught by a bullet to the arm, and Reese was struggling to get the upper hand on the Russian guarding you.

‘Get her out of here!’ Seb shouted, throwing Harold his car keys. ‘Get her somewhere safe!’

Seb got up, holding his arm and tried to help Reese. Harold picked up a knife that had fallen to the floor during the struggle, you were panicking and crying with fear and probably pain judging from the way your dress had been torn.

Harold went as quickly as he could, taking your gag off first, before releasing you from the cable ties. You couldn’t speak, all you could do was wail and cry.

‘It’s okay,’ Harold tried to calm you down. ‘It’s alright, I’ve got you. I’m here.’

He carefully helped you up, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders, you were shaking, most likely dehydrated as well as exhausted. He wished he could pick you up in his arms the way he used to, but his injury just wouldn’t allow for that anymore.

Harold managed to find his way out of the warehouse, keeping you safely under his arm, navigating the maze of a building and making sure you didn’t fall from your unsteady legs.

‘We’re nearly there,’ Harold checked the yard for anyone waiting. ‘We’re so close, just stay with me.’

He could feel your body giving up on you, wanting to just sleep, probably something you’d been without for some time. Harold held you up a little firmer, before opening the door and basically dragging you to Seb’s car.

‘Try to stay awake, you’ll be safe soon.’ Harold managed to get you into the passenger seat of the car, before calling Reese. ‘I’ve got Evelyn, Mr Reese, I’m taking her to the library.’

‘Meet you there.’ Reese definitely sounded like he was being held against the wall.

Harold rushed around the car to the driver’s side, you were losing consciousness, but with the head injury you were carrying, he couldn’t let you rest just yet.

‘No, Evelyn, stay awake,’ Harold said, driving out of the dockyard. ‘Sweetheart, you have to stay awake for me.’ The pet name he used to have for you just slipped out, but even that wasn’t enough to get you to remain awake. There was maybe one thing he could do to keep you conscious. ‘I left you.’ He said, darting through traffic as swiftly as possible. ‘I left after I promised I would never hurt you, the day after you agreed to marry me. I need you to yell at me! Or… or something.’

Harold looked over to see your eyes struggling to stay open, you had bruises on your face, a cut above your eyebrow and on your cheek, and a handprint visible on your neck.

‘Okay, you don’t have to yell at me, but you do need to stay awake,’ Harold conceded. ‘You might have a concussion.’

You still said nothing. Harold’s chest was killing him, you looked so helpless and lost, he’d never seen you like this before and he didn’t know how to fix it.

‘When we get somewhere safe, I’ll leave you in peace.’ Harold looked back to find no one was following you, he could safely slow down. ‘I’ll call a doctor to come and take a look at any immediate injuries.’ Harold suddenly noticed something that had his whole being suddenly fill with rage. Bruises had started to form on your thighs, your dress was ripped below your waist and the injuries were consistent with… he couldn’t even bear to think it. ‘I’ll make sure it's a female doctor.’

That was your tipping point, it wasn’t the fact that you had been sexually assaulted, it was the fact that Harold noticed. You cried, not caring for the injuries you were carrying, or how much it hurt to be sitting with Harold once again. The pain was just too much to contain.

Harold figured there was nothing more he could say, if you were crying, you couldn’t fall asleep. He called a doctor who owed him a favour and had her meet him at the library, he didn’t want to risk going to a safehouse just yet and he had a room specifically for nights he didn’t go home. You could stay there for a while.

Harold parked a little way up the road, not wanting you to have to walk too far, but also not wanting to make it obvious which building you were in. He came around to help you out of the car, but was unsure how comfortable you’d be with him touching you again.

He held out his hand and allowed you the option whether to take it or not. You were struggling to move, it hurt to put any weight on your ankles from where they had been cut into, but you still took his hand. The contact was more than he was counting on, he hadn’t been able to hold your hand for so long.

Harold managed to get you upstairs and into his small bedroom inside the library, with Bear watching over you, you’d be safe enough. He got you to sit down on the double bed and heard his phone ring.

‘That’ll be the doctor.’ He said, handing you a glass of water. ‘I’ll be back in a moment. This is Bear by the way,’ he gestured to his dog. ‘He only responds to Dutch commands.’

Harold wasn’t sure why he said that, it wasn’t relevant to anything that was probably going through your head in that moment. He quickly met with the doctor and led her up to see you.

Harold worried you’d be uncomfortable with him there and so left you in peace to call Reese.

‘Seb doesn’t think this is over,’ he said. ‘We’re following up on a lead, but we both agree, the best thing for Brooke is to stay with you for the time being.’

‘I’m not so sure Miss Brooke would find that arrangement particularly comfortable.’ Harold rubbed his temples.

‘There’s not much choice right now.’ Reese said, firmly. ‘One of the Russians managed to escape and black alert won’t allow for Seb to stop until he’s found and defused the threat, so that means you’re going to have to look after her while we figure this out.’

Harold inhaled deeply, dreading talking to you. ‘Fine. Keep me informed.’

Reese hung up and Harold sat back as the morning sun began to come up. You always liked a sunrise, it usually meant you’d had a long night working, but you always thought it a pretty sight and one well worth staying up for.

The doctor eventually came through to see him, she looked like she had bad news. Harold’s heart was in his mouth.

‘Thankfully there’s no concussion,’ she started. ‘But Evie has some pretty deep cuts on her wrists and ankles which we’ve managed to clean up and put bandages on, but you will need to change them once a day for the next few days and then every three days as they start to heal.’

‘You looked like you had bad news.’ Harold just needed to get to the point.

The doctor sighed. ‘I don’t know how aware you are of what happened, but she’s been sexually assaulted, from what I gather it was multiple times over the last two days.’ Harold stepped away for a moment. ‘Harold, she needs help that I can’t give her, she needs to talk to a specialist to help her deal with what happened…’ Harold didn’t want to hear anymore. ‘Look, I need to go. Her cuts and bruises will heal over the next few days and I’ve given her some painkillers for when she needs them; she’ll be able to get back to work in her own time, but right now, she could do with some company.’

‘I don’t believe my company would be welcome right now.’ Harold was trying to control his rage.

‘She asked for you.’ The doctor said as a final note before leaving.

It didn’t make sense, what possible reason could you have for asking for him? Harold peered down the hallway, seeing Bear standing guard outside the room you were in. He supposed he would have to talk to you sooner or later. Sooner may have worked to his advantage.

Harold gave Bear a stroke before approaching the doorway. You were curled under his jacket, still with your torn dress on, he wished there was something else he could give you to wear. He remained at a distance, not wanting to upset you.

‘Was everything satisfactory with the doctor?’ He asked, knowing it was a weak question.

You turned your head slightly, adjusting on the pillow, to look at him directly. Your eyes scanning his form, squinting as the light came in. Harold didn’t want you to have to strain to do anything and so moved so that you could see him better, still keeping a distance between you.

‘You’re limping.’ You croaked. ‘Are you okay?’

Harold paused a moment before being unable to contain his laughter. He felt hysterical for a moment. You didn’t have the same view, but then again, you were probably in too much pain.

‘You were kidnapped,’ Harold shook his head. ‘Tortured for information and…’ he didn’t want to say it. ‘And you’re asking me if I’m okay. I wasn’t hurt in the ordeal; this is an old injury.’ Harold took a seat in the chair opposite his bed and looked at you sympathetically. ‘I expected you to be angry, to want to get away from me as soon as possible. If the painkillers have had some kind of-‘

‘I knew you were alive.’ It was hardly above a whisper. ‘I was angry. I wanted nothing to do with you.’ Tears had already formed in your eyes. ‘But I understood that it was safer this way. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.’

Harold took a moment to process what you said. ‘How did you know? You mourned for me. For months you… you couldn’t have known.’

‘I work in security.’ You rolled your eyes, adjusting your body, only to wince in pain. ‘You must have known I would eventually find out.’

‘I suppose, I underestimated you.’

‘People do that a lot.’

Harold smiled to himself, knowing it was something you had gotten used to.

‘I hated you for a while.’ You suddenly said. ‘Went over in my head a thousand times what I might say to you, to make you feel the pain I felt.’

‘And what did you come up with?’ Harold was ready to take it, he was ready to receive his punishment for what he did to you.

‘An eclectic array of things.’ You swallowed, Harold noting your dry throat. ‘But I’m not going to say any of it.’

Harold frowned, letting a weighted breath go. ‘I deserve to be hurt by you. I deserve whatever punishment you see fit for me.’

You gave a sad smile. ‘No.’ You breathed. ‘We are where we are because of the choices we made. I chose you once. I knew what it meant and I understood what came with it. I am where I am because I chose love.’

Harold sat back, not really able to understand what you were saying. ‘So, you’re saying you forgive me for leaving, for pretending to be dead? I could have told you at any time, come forward and admitted my mistakes.’

‘I understand Harold, but I don’t forgive you.’ You sniffed, trying to control your tears. ‘You hurt me in ways I have never been hurt before, I thought I died. But what killed me was one day seeing you standing at a payphone, like nothing was wrong, and knowing exactly why you did it. I would have done the same.’

Harold felt his eyes flooding with tears. You really were too good for him.

‘We always said,’ you sniffed again. ‘The good the machine can do, it’s worth everything we have. We were happy, we had the world for two years, some people don’t even get two days.’

You were right, as usual, you were always right. Harold nodded. He stood up, picking up your empty glass and going to refill it.

When he came back it was to find you had finally fallen asleep. Harold decided you needed to rest. He carefully lifted the thick blanket at the end of the bed and lay it over your exhausted body.

He thought about what you might have needed and a bath would be top of your list, as well as some clean clothes. He’d had the library fitted with a working bathroom and he had some spare jumpers laying around that would have to suffice until he could get in contact with Seb or Reese. Your favourite had always been the cotton ones, you used to say how soft it felt against your skin. He took a dark brown one out of the bottom of his small chest of drawers and lay it over the chair, ready for you when you decided you needed it.

The one thing he couldn’t shake was how you had known he was alive and done nothing about it. You didn’t go looking for him or try to contact him, in fact, it seems like you had intended on getting on with your life. He hoped he hadn’t ruined that chance for you.

(Chapter link)

#harold finch #harold finch x reader #finch x reader #person of interest #harold finch fanfic

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