#since you know. the curiosity arose from trying to find out why the hell was johnny q sharing a bed with an unknown man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

farewell, my dark knight. — diluc ragnvindr

ೃ ft. diluc x gender neutral! reader

ೃ 6k words

ೃ tags and warnings: angst. a sweet and lovestruck diluc. reminiscing memories with him. he writes you letters and talks to you about his day. he’s very soft and he’s very much in love with you.

ೃ requested by anon: “hi! could i request a diluc x reader, in which diluc dies from a mission, and as reader is cleaning out his room, they find letters neatly packed into drawers, and with closer inspection, they are letters diluc wrote to reader every day, so when he isn’t around anymore, reader can read them and not forget about him? sorry i’m a sucker for angst and your writing omg” (thank you for this request! and for making me cry while writing it! <3 i put a lot of work into this, so i hope everyone enjoys!)

ೃ genshin impact masterlist

ೃ if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡ (please like and most esp. reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot!)

They say all your senses and your feelings are heightened when you are broken and mourning.

You hear things more clearly like the tenderness of his voice because it’s better than listening to the drum of your heart.

You feel the sun, the air, and his gentle touch on your skin because you are trying to feel things instead of shutting down.

You smell his perfume and the scent of the pancakes he used to make- everywhere.

You still feel his fingers as though they are knotted through yours and it makes you cry.

It hurts.

It pains you.

This is the most tragic day of your life.

“Sir Diluc has.. passed away.” Jean announces, reaching for your hands and squeezing them in support. She pulls you inside a spare and lonely room in the Ragnvindr manor. Lisa is at her side, for extra emotional support, handing you a spare handkerchief as they break the news to you.

Your heart sank.

You were not the first to know. But, even if you were… there was no possible way.

You were a traveling adventurer in search of something that will quell your curiosities; disappearing for days or weeks on end. There were times when Diluc would come with you on your travels and the two of you would just go wherever your heart desires. Staying in Qingce Village and mingling with the elderly townsfolk, Visiting the Adeptus abode, strolling around Springvale or vacationing in the summer islands… there was nothing that could stop the two of you together.

As two of the heroes of Mondstadt from the Stormterror incident and his status as the esteemed owner of the Dawn Winery, you were famed and loved by all. Though as Diluc was not one for friendliness or casual interactions with others, It was all because of you that he had befriended some particular members of the Adventurer’s guild and the Knights of Favonius. You had even asked them if they could visit the Dark Knight hero at the winery from time to time.

Well, aside from the regular visits of Venti and Kaeya to satisfy their quench for wine, Jean accompanied by Amber and Lisa to ask for advice, uncommon visitors such as Klee and Albedo had even come by to accompany him now and show him their wonderful new experiments and discoveries….

You had given him a reason to have hope in the people of Mondstadt once again. His previous faction with the Favonius knights may have been imperfect, but Jean had proved to be amazing enough to rectify all these past mistakes that had eased Diluc’s resentment to the knights.

You continue to count back to all the things that he has done for you. As someone who’s had no home and who’s been traveling all their life, Diluc became your home. He had fallen for you and your wondrous soul. He was your living reminder that you can find home in a person. Someone who you can rely on, someone you will come back to after a long tiring day, someone who will love you for who you are and who will kiss your flaws away.

And now, he’s gone. Just like that.

You have been gone for three months prior to all of this as you were on a secret commission to fight off a huge group of treasure hoarders in Natlan. Although you were able to travel back to Fontaine shortly after, you had to wait for further instruction from the guild before you could come back to Mondstadt. At the time, the only thoughts to occupy your mind was Diluc who had been waiting for your return and your longing and desire to run into his arms and for him to kiss your tiredness away.

However, it took two agonizing days before Jean’s letter had arrived. All you could do was weep and worry endlessly at the inside of a quaint inn at the heart of the bustling and picturesque region that was Fontaine. Inside her letter were updated reports of Diluc’s disappearance; he had been missing for three days without telling the maids or any of the inhabitants of the mansion and the winery of his departure. He left without a trace…

As soon as the sun had risen that same day, you quickly left the region and made your way back to Mondstadt. With no knowledge or premonition that at the same day…

Diluc would be found.

On the road to Mondstadt, the staff at the Winery had been going on their merry day to deliver the wine to the city, when they came across a body. Battered and bruised. Upon closer inspection, it was their dearest master; the current head of the Ragvindr family. Further suspicion arose when a hoard of Fatui members had been defeated; lying beside the riverbend not too far from the manor. The Knights of Favonius had quickly deduced that Diluc had crawled all the way back to the outskirts of the Manor but had unfortunately succumbed to his injuries.

From that day on, the sun had never shined again.

Your stomach was in knots. You had a feeling that something had happened and yet, you didn’t expect for it to be something like this. You didn’t expect to hear about the state that he was in when he was found.

He’s strong. He’s the Dark Knight Hero, One of the protectors of Mondstadt; Hell, he’s one of the most powerful vision users of the region.

Yet… how did this happen?

A knock on the door had brought you out of your trance. With a simple “Come in.” said by Jean, the guest in question was revealed to be Kaeya who peered out from the door. A forlorn expression plastered upon his face. His head turns and your eyes meet his, “(Y/N)... how are you doing?” His voice gentle and melancholic.

“N-never been better.” You remark in between sobs. “I-I need time to process this.” Wiping your tears with the handkerchief, you stand up, about to take your leave. “I-I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“According to the Favonius accords, Sir Diluc must be buried tom-”

“To hell with the Favonius accords!” You snap, still trying to fight back the tears as the three knights stare at you in shock and in empathy. “M-master Jean… p-please. Just one more day. Before I have to say goodbye to him forever… Let me have one day to reminisce about him.”

The Acting Grandmaster hesitates, as if collecting her thoughts first before she speaks. “Very well. We will be arranging the burial and other matters in the near future. For now, please get all the rest and recuperation you need. Thank you for your time, honorary knight. We’ll see you in a few days.” Jean holds your hand and gives it another reassuring squeeze as she and Lisa watch your walking figure make your way out of the room.

Kaeya, who was still in front of the entryway, moves to the side to give you some space to make your leave. “Before the maids fully clean up his room, why don’t you tune in there for the night? I’m sure Diluc would love that.”

“He would.” You smile half-heartedly, the indigo-haired man giving you a reassuring pat on the arm. “T-thanks Kaeya. I will.”

“I’ll be staying in the manor for the rest of Diluc’s memorial if you want t-to… talk about him. See you around.” You nod at him before shuffling down the stairs to enter the manor wing that led to Diluc’s room.

Oh, how you wish you were as calm as Jean and as emotionally mature as Kaeya right now.

How are they able to hold up so well? How are they able to take this all in and not be on the verge of breakdown like you are? They’ve known Diluc since childhood. Hell, Kaeya was his adopted brother. His brother in arms. How are they able to accept his death just like that?

Are you just… not as strong as them?

You take a left turn around the manor wing that leads to Diluc’s room to be surprised by Adelinde who greets you in front of Diluc’s door, a torn and bloodied folded paper in her hands. “Honorary knight, we have a letter addressed to you. The staff at the winery found it tucked inside Master Diluc’s pocket. You might want to read it.” She gingerly hands you the folded piece, patting your hand gently once she places it in your palm.

“Thank you, Adelinde.”

You turn your attention to unlocking the door, fishing for the spare key that he had given you and inserting it into the knob, you hear the head maid speak behind your back.

“Whilst you were away, there was never a day that Master Diluc had not spoken about you with such love and praise. I hope you know in your heart how much he loves and cherishes you. As there was never another person in his life who he had loved the most after Sir Crepus’ passing.” She recounts, her voice is slow and meek. “Thank you for loving Master Diluc and for showing him what it truly means to be a part of a family again. The entire staff sends our deepest condolences and we will be here for you and Sir Kaeya whenever you need us.” From the side of your eye, you see Adelinde bowing deeply before she subsequently takes her leave and disappears into the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, the door clicks and you enter your beloved’s abode.

Not one thing has been touched. It still looks and remains the same.

His coat is still hanged on his wardrobe door, his usual button up black dress shirts folded neatly on one of the drawers, books that he’s read to you time and time again are shelved properly, a hearth in front of the bed that reminded you of your endless cuddles in front of the fireplace, his gloves neatly placed on his bedside table, and pictures of the two of you together in the Golden Apple Archipelago taken with the Kamera are hung on clips and strings on his desk.

It was like he never left.

Like his physical being had just gone off on a long adventure.

Yet, it feels so empty.

Because his soul and his presence is no longer here with you.

And it hurts. Everything hurts.

You take a seat on his bed. The mattress slightly creaks as you reach for an unusual piece of paper sticking out of his bedside drawer. Opening the cabinet slowly, your suspicion and curiosity heightens when what is revealed to be inside was a wooden box. Engraved were Diluc’s initials and letters that spelled out “Do not touch”

Curiosity overwhelming you, you gingerly open the wooden box to be surprised with folded letters written by Diluc that were all addressed to you. Along with the date and time it was made.

He wrote letters every single day. Hoping that once you came home, you could finally read them. Trying your best not to burst into tears, you carefully look through all of them and notice that they were all written during your absence. During those three agonizing months that you were gone.

Although his daily letters were short and simply written, he never fails to write to you an encompassing message at the end of the week. In each weekly letter, he entailed many things: Like writing to you about his day, how much he misses you, how much time has passed, and discussing particular things he found during his nightly patrols or interesting things about his day. He wrote letters to you as if you were right there with him. His words etched with simplicity yet full of love. He wrote these letters to be whisked away from a minute of his otherwise mundane life. And despite how uneventful they may be, he still shares them with you because he knows you will listen. He knows you will take your time to read everything. As even though the two of you may be thousands of miles apart, your hearts will still beat as one.

You finally find the one that he had written for you the day after your departure, and begin to read it’s contents. Preparing yourself for an overflow of emotions that you were not ready for.

JANUARY 3RD, 45 BP

As much as I hate to see you go, I realized that life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us from the ones we love. For the recent years that have passed, I have seen staff at the winery and maids in the manor come and go. And yet, I still haven’t gotten used to seeing you go off on your adventures. There are times I wish I could just be free of all of these responsibilities and come along with you on your escapades. But alas, I will presume that life is not for me. Always know that no matter where my life takes me or yours takes you, I will love you whether there are 1000 miles between us or none at all.

I miss you already, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 10TH, 45 BP

A week has come to pass since you left and I’ve been trying my best to keep myself busy. Kaeya has come to visit me and so has Venti, but they have done absolutely nothing to alleviate my boredom. In fact, they’ve all been a pain in the arse. When I tossed them into two of the guest rooms for passing out drunk, I was suddenly reminded of the times that you would wait for me at the Angel’s Share and help me drag Rosaria back to the cathedral, Kaeya back to his residence, and Venti back to the tree in Windrise. Then, we would take a night stroll around the city as the dwindling lights of the shops and houses being the only things illuminating our way. I cannot wait to do all of this with you again. It feels like the universe closes in around us whenever we’re together. But… the moment is so fleeting and you are gone again. The universe is awfully large and I am awfully small, unable to hold the world with my hands. I just wish you were here to make me feel as if the universe is close enough to reach once more.

Good night, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 17TH, 45 BP

It is 9 o’ clock in the evening as I write this. Today, Bennett had visited and asked if I could train him to control his vision. I said yes as I had nothing much better to do. Fischl and Razor were there to accompany him as well. To be quite honest, they’re quite a convivial trio. It’s nice to see them remain free-spirited despite everything that has happened recently. I could not bear to remain as cheerful as they are amidst the constant abyss order and Fatui attacks. After our training, Razor had come up to me and told me that you and I are lupical. I didn’t quite understand at first, but with Fischl’s long and heavy explanation, I had come to understand what it meant: Family.

Perhaps… we can be a family? Have a family of our own?

Oh… wait. I know, it’s too soon. So, please disregard my wishful thinking for now. I’d like to apologize if that may have come out the wrong way.

Thank you for reading today’s letter, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 24TH, 45 BP

I finished a book I borrowed from the Favonius library today. Lisa said you've been eyeing the tome for a long time. However, since Ella Musk was borrowing it at the time and you had to leave shortly for your trip to Natlan, you never got the chance to. I'd like to apologize for having been able to read it in advance. Perhaps, I can read it to you once you get home? Maybe in front of the fireplace, blankets hugging us for warmth, and cups of hot chocolate in our hands? Anyhow, there was something I found interesting about it.

There are Sumeru philosophers who claim that the past, present, and future all exist at the same time. That there are parallel universes. It had me thinking, in another universe... Would we still be together? Will fate bring us together? Could there be more for us outside of this blue sky we share?

I'm sorry for making you worry. It's probably my insomnia kicking in. These past twenty days have been quite lonely without you.

Goodnight, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 31ST, 45 BP

I can’t believe that January has finally come to pass. It feels like forever since you left. I know, I know, I sound like I’m sulking. But… the thoughts I had from finishing the book last week still have not left my mind. If only I could close my eyes and find myself in the place wherever you are right now. Kind of like…. What were those called? Waypoints? Yes! Those. Mayhaps, I should pay Sucrose or Albedo a visit and ask if they could make a portable wayfinder for me or a potion that can teleport me anywhere? Well, at least I have something interesting to do tomorrow.

See you soon, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 7TH, 45 BP

The day you left, I went through all my old journals, frantically looking for the first mention of you. Searching for details I can no longer recall and any morsel of information that may have been lost. It honestly made me laugh at how different I used to think of you back then. You were always a kindred soul and yet, there was an eccentric air around you that I just couldn't quite understand. It was the good kind, of course. I have never thought ill of you since the beginning. Ever since the tragedy that befell my father, I would push everyone away from me. I told myself that if you didn't form close bonds with others, then you wouldn't get attached to them. They would be easier to let go and you could. But... you were the first who went out of your way for me. The first time you entered Angel's Share and challenged me to a game of chess solely because someone from the Adventurers' guild told you so? I knew there was something about you. Something wonderful. I wish to show you these old journals soon. Mayhaps you can get a clearer picture of my thoughts and impressions of others once you read them.

For now, all I can do is count the days until you are home once more.

Goodnight my love, may the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 14, 45 BP

People should fall in love more. Fall in love with how the dandelions blow with the wind, Fall in love with the safe and comforting feeling of being in the middle of a bustling city that is Mondstadt, Fall in love with the stars and the night that shines before us and Fall in love with the idea of being in love or loving someone. Having recently realized these things, I had the most spontaneous idea of wanting to get married in the Winery with you. In the future, of course. I know it’s not much. But I know you’re not the type to want anything fancy, so it’s the perfect area for the most beautiful moment of our lives to take place.

I had gotten a little too into the idea of planning our wedding and I aimlessly listed down those who will be attending. All our closest friends and family. Can you imagine Little Klee as the flower girl? Kaeya as the best man? Jean and Lisa as the maids of honor? Maybe we can even ask Eula to choreograph our wedding dance for us? Most importantly, have the wonderful honor of having the Lord Barbatos to officiate our marriage?

Once again, I hope you can pardon me and my blissful escapism. I can’t wait for the day to arrive where we can plan all of this and make it a perfect wedding.

As always, thank you for reading my constant rambles and inner thoughts, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 21ST, 45 BP

If you were taken away from me, this place called our world, I would cry.

Sighing, wringing my hands, and wondering why.

How can the archons and those up in Celestia dare to take the most precious soul in the universe from me?

But... what if I would be the one who would be taken away from you? Will you feel the same way too?

FEBRUARY 28TH, 45 BP

Please excuse me for everything I said in my message last week. I may have sounded somewhat selfish and I'd like to apologize for making you overthink when you already have so much on your plate. I cannot wait to mail out these letters to you, but the postal office in Monstadt doesn't deliver letters to Natlan, unfortunately. I guess I have to wait until you reach Fontaine. Putting those aside for a moment, something happened today that I wanted to share with you. Whilst I was feeding Noctua, I had realized something. What about the little birds who dream of flight? Those who gaze into the starry night and think that one day... they might be a part of that same sky? To be free, to explore, and to have the feeling of air and light coursing through their wings. Is... this the same feeling you felt before? Is this why you go on adventures?

I'd love to talk to you more about this once you get home. For now, all I can do is write you a letter and bid you goodnight.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 7TH, 45 BP

Whenever I write a letter addressed to you, I feel a raw ache in my bones when the ink seeps into the paper— for I feel the bittersweet sorrow of wanting you to be right by my side, to have my fingers intertwined with yours, and to be exhumed by you because you have always seen past all my flaws and imperfections. I miss you. So much. At this point, it feels as if I have no right to. Tell me... is it right to feel this way? Am I being selfish for wanting the days to come by? For April to be in our midst? Can I blame the archons for wanting to have you in my arms again? There’s something happening next week, and to be honest, I’m quite excited for it. See you soon, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 14TH, 45 BP

Today is the first day of the Windblume Festival. How I terribly wish you were in Mondstadt right now. This would have been your first year and I know you would love the events. I remember when Father brought Kaeya and I to the festival for the very first time, and oh how my eyes were filled with wonderment and unshaken innocence. He gifted us a harp that day, and I still play it when I have time. It’s a wonderful keepsake with a lovely name, (The Windblume Ode) and it never fails to remind me of my father. I wonder if… Kaeya still kept his? Nostalgia aside, Venti caught up to me on the way home and told me I should see what he has in store for the second week of the festival. I know that the bard has a lot up his sleeve, but this particular encounter with him filled me with curiosity. What could it be? What does he have in store for me?

Before I end this, I bought you a bouquet of Dandelions and Cecilias today. They have a different color than the usual wreaths and posies, as these ones only bloom during Windblume. I placed them inside the vase on your desk just a few minutes ago. I do not necessarily have green thumbs, so please do not blame me if anything bad happens. I made sure that they’re still in season once you get home and I can’t wait for you to see them.

Goodnight my love, May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

MARCH 21ST, 45 BP

Once you get home, please do assist on reprimanding the bard for me. Can you believe he had tricked me into attending his love poem-making classes? Since a lot of the cityfolk have been dying to take writing classes under him and were willing to pay if he did, he had decided to take this opportunity to receive mora and “get rich.” Venti brags to the cityfolk that he will use their compensation for good reasons… but we all know he’ll just spend it wasting away at Angel’s Share. I won't let him pass me when it’s my hour to manage the tavern, of course. But… maybe one drink as a prize for all his hard work wouldn’t be too bad? After all, I did learn a lot of things from him. He was also quite smart for incorporating such an activity with Windblume. As during the festivities, the people of Mondstadt offer Windblumes to Barbatos and to those they love and adore.

I spent all day being mentored and trained into creating “the most romantic poem written in Teyvat” I know Venti is bluffing and was just trying to soften me so I wouldn’t get mad at him, yet he was actually genuinely impressed with my poetic skills. I didn’t want anyone else to read it before you did, but he snatched the paper from my hands as soon as I finished so that he may critique it. I… didn’t expect him to shed a tear.

Here is the poem I wrote for you, my love. I hope you’ll like it.

“I wish one day, I'd be able to lay you down on a bed of roses with

the stars watching over us.

I wish one day we will be able to see the world together, to touch the stars and become planets.

After all, darling, stars, like life, is what you make of it.

I wish you knew how much I've loved you for all these years, so quietly, so loudly.

One day these roses will never compare to the redness in your cheeks, the softness of your heart.

One day you will see kingdoms rise and the sun dance on your eyelids.

And one day the moon will hang from your fingertips, waiting for you to refract your light and hope onto others.

You are an enigmatic being. A beautiful soul. Sometimes I think that you’re not from this universe.

You have enraptured my soul; my whole being. You taught me how to love.

Everything about you is out of this world and I am merely a human amazed by your interstellar presence as if you are written in the stars.”

MARCH 28TH, 45 BP

I think I’ve gotten the hang of writing poems. I’m quite confident in my lyricism and in my writing now. So, here’s an excerpt of another poem I’m writing for you.

“I will love you through all the days and nights we are apart.

I will love you through every day and as the darkness turns to light.

It is four o’ clock in the afternoon and this is the hardest part.

But this is the way I love you, even if most days we are apart.”

That’s all for now. I’m afraid you’ll only see the final draft once you get back. I hope you’re having a wonderful time at Natlan. Take care always, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

APRIL 4TH, 45 BP

I’ve been pondering about something again today. And It’s all because of Kaeya and Jean. They came over and we reminisced all day long about our childhood memories with tea and crumpets to accompany us. It was a nice feeling. To be able to look back on your childhood with such wistfulness. With such warmth. And with that, I realized something soon after: We’re young, but not that young. Some of the folk in Springvale are sixty-five and still feel young. Even Lord Barbatos feels young. Just because we have years ahead of us doesn’t mean our love isn’t going to last a lifetime. But… that’s the thing. We don’t have an entire lifetime to show love and affection towards each other and to others. Which is why we have to make the most of it. Live in the moment. Make the most of every minute that your heart is beating. Love endlessly. Be kind to others. That’s… what you always told me right? Even if we don’t have the rest of our lives to be with each other, I will still love you anyway. Every day, deeply, wholeheartedly, even if we are young and even if we are old. My love for you will be gentle, but fierce and bold.

That is all for now, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

April 11TH, 45 BP

The words are melting in my mouth like snow, and I feel like I'm running on empty, but there are only 5 days until you come home. I have dreamt every night of the morning we are together again. You will be drinking dandelion wine and I will be talking about how the orchard will finally bloom. Then in the next few months, we can do everything we dreamed about. We can go around the winery, have picnics amongst the stars, walk around Mondstadt and go on adventures once more. Soon, you will be home, and I will watch the leaves and patiently wait for time to pass by until we are together again.

But.. since I cannot wait no more, I plan to travel all the way to Fontaine to see you. I will not be telling any of the maids or the staff where I’ll be going. They would worry if I left again. This is all going to be a surprise and this letter will proof of that. I want to be beside you once more and I cannot bear to wait for five more days. I will be leaving at Dawn tomorrow! I’ll treat this as a little vacation. I rightfully deserve it as a treat for my birthday, hoping I can spend it together with you. Maybe… we can take a quick detour and go on a little adventuring? Just the two of us. I know you’ll be weary from your trip, but we can continue to stay at Fontaine but we can go once you’ve fully recovered.

I cannot wait to feel your warmth and your love in person again. See you soon, my beloved.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

That was it. That was the last letter stored in the box.

You stare into nothingness, unable to find the words to say.

Tears began to form in your eyes, your vision blurring and your hands quivering at the thought of him. All these letters he’s written to you all throughout these months and the fact that he was planning to surprise you by meeting with you at Fontaine? It hurts you so much thinking of all the things that could’ve been. Thinking about what could’ve happened if this tragedy did not take place.

“Diluc…”

You call out for his name. Hoping there is an answer.

But… of course there isn’t.

Your hands absentmindedly graze upon the corners of the bed when you suddenly remember the torn letter Adelinde had given you.

You open the letter with slight hesitance, noticing the dark stains that presumably came from Diluc’s torn and dirtied clothes. With a heavy sigh and as you dry your tears, you begin to read the letter.

APRIL 13TH, 45 BP

Ever since you left, I felt as if we were breaking the whole world's heart. But... all this time, it was always the other way around. It was the world that was slowly breaking us.

Even in these last moments, I cannot fathom that I will be disappearing from this world without even seeing you again. It hurts. My body. There are bruises and wounds all over. My hands are trembling in fear and weariness. I can barely move my wrist and I can hardly think of the words I want to say. I feel the end is drawing near. Not for the world, not for you, but for me. Everything is caving in, my senses are slowing, my eyes are falling, and just waiting for the rest of my system to put me into an eternal sleep.

Would... time be so kind as to slow? Can the world stop for a minute and listen to my plea? To my call? A miracle to happen that could magically transport you to me? I w-wish we could have spent more time together. All these letters I’ve written for you these past few months… were they an omen? Was I foolish to think I could have a future with you? Is this the price to pay for having been separated from you for so long? Is it… still possible to attain it? The life I’ve always wanted with you? Maybe in another world, we can.

We will share every innocent dream and talk about our fears. All your hopes and dreams. I will listen to the sound of your voice and the echoes of your soul. I will kiss your forehead, your knuckles, and your lips. I will stand by you in every new day even when people seem so unkind. I will join up all your insecurities, bundle all your flaws, and make them into a constellation so that I may find them and wish them away. I will do everything to make you feel safe. I will do everything to make you feel loved. There was never a day that I doubted you. You are everything to me, (Y/N). You are a free and wandering soul. I wish I could be behind you to support you wherever you may go, but alas, that fate is not for me. And… I think that’s fine.

Remain as you are. Continue to love others like you have loved me. Teach them what it means to live. Like you have taught me.

Please… don’t be sad. This is the momentary sadness to a new beginning, my beloved.

I love you to the stars and back.

I hope that in another world, our paths may cross again.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine on you.

A heavy yet comforting feeling fills your heart as tears continue to stream down your cheeks. Folding the letter and putting it into the box amongst all the others, You clutch your hand to your chest, looking up at the ceiling.

“Diluc, my love… if you are out there. I will love you forever. Through all these months of my absence, you have never left my mind and I wish I could have been there for you. I wish I could have given you the same amount of love that you have given me. There are so many things I wish I could have done with you. Every letter and every word you’ve ever dedicated to me will forever remain in my heart. These handwritten sentiments will be one of my reminders that you are still with me, no matter where I go. Even if it hurts so much, I will continue to live for you. Honor your memory. I will show the world that I have only loved one man in this lifetime. Thank you for everything.

You have now become one of the stars that shine down upon me. Soon, we will once again meet in the same sky and there, we will have our happily ever after.

Farewell, my dark knight.”

ೃ taglist: @ganyuuxs @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop @latteshinsou @catgirlkomi @reaped-winnower @monaa @dibhachu @sugurus-princess @midnightangelfox @call-me-moonflower

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x y/n #diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc imagines #genshin impact x you

299 notes · View notes

apolloloki97 · 3 years

Text

"Worthy of Him" Mickey Milkovich x Ian Gallagher

Summary: When Mickey comes across a handsome stranger, he doesn't realize it's the man who cheated on Ian when Mickey was locked up. Caleb is going to have quite a surprise when he meets the love of Ian's life. ---- Or when Mickey meets Caleb.

Word Count: 3076

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Fuckin' Perfect" by P!nk

Note: I just love when Mickey meets Ian's exes. Also, I get really happy when Mickey defends the Gallaghers!

--------

Mickey was on his way home when he heard a string of curses that even made him stop mid-strut on the sidewalk.

At the end of the block, a handsome black man was glaring at his car, his hands on his hips as he swore. Mickey knew that look, he himself had had a similar expression on his face more than once. Weighing his options, he considered just turning the other way and going the long way home, but there was something about the man that screamed “help me” and so Mickey decided to do just that.

Besides, the poor handsome bastard clearly didn’t belong on the Southside considering how well put together he was and the decent set of wheels he was glaring at. Approaching the man, Mickey tried to gauge what was wrong with the vehicle, but it seemed as if even the owner didn’t know. “Hey man,” Mickey greeted. “Wheels busted?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with it,” the man said with a sigh as he finally turned to look at Mickey. The latter didn’t miss how the stranger did a double-take, letting his eyes scan Mickey from head to toe. Since he had come out, Mickey had been noticing male attention pointed in his direction more frequently and he couldn’t deny that it made him feel damn good about himself. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, especially to Ian.

Jealous bastard, Mickey thought to himself with a smirk that the stranger before him seemed to notice immediately. Brushing off the bedroom eyes emanating from the other man, Mickey stepped towards the car. “Want me to take a look?” Mickey offered.

“Yeah, sure, thanks man,” the man said, gesturing for Mickey to move closer. Mickey leaned over the open hood of the car, his eyes scanning for anything outwardly wrong. As he bent over the car, the owner watched on with curiosity. “So, you a mechanic?”

“Nah,” Mickey said as he examined the battery. “My brother-in-law is. Taught me some shit,” Mickey explained. Lip had only begun to teach Mickey a bit about bikes after Mickey had helped him steal from Born Free. Mickey would never admit it to the older Gallagher brother, but he liked Lip a fair amount when he wasn’t being a total asshole. Lip was also important to Ian so Mickey made the sacrifice to “bond” with his brother-in-law whenever the occasion arose and graft theft auto just happened to be one of those occasions.

“So, you’re just in the habit of helping strangers when their car breaks down?” the man said. Mickey scoffed as he shrugged.

“Only when it breaks down on the Southside and the owner ain’t belong,” Mickey said.

“Who says I’m not Southside?” the man said playfully. Straightening up slightly, Mickey looked over at him with a knowing look.

“Trust me, I can tell,” Mickey said. Stepping back, Mickey crouched down to get a look at the grill in case anything was stuck when the bottom of his pant leg rode up slightly, exposing the holster he had strapped to his ankle along with the .22 he kept on him at all times. Iggy called it a “pussy gun”, but with being on parole, Mickey couldn’t risk always carrying his larger piece and he was still paranoid that the cartel would catch up with him eventually. The owner of the car noticed it immediately, his brows rising.

“You a cop or something?” he asked, gesturing to the exposed holster. Mickey glanced down at the hardware Carl had given him before covering it back up again. He looked up at the stranger with a raised brow.

“Not exactly,” Mickey said, disgusted to be even considered to be compared to a pig.

“Right,” the man said.

“What?” Mickey asked as he stood up, leaning against the car. “Are you a cop? Gonna fuckin’ bust me for this?” he asked.

“I fight fires, not Southside thugs,” he said with a wink and Mickey laughed quickly before turning back to his task. It didn’t take him long to notice the coolant leak in the hose.

“You’re gonna need to take this to a shop, man,” Mickey said. “You got a leak here,” he said, pointing to the hose. The man approached him, getting closer to Mickey to get a better look. Mickey rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. He was ready to shove his wedding ring up the man’s nose when his phone rang. Knowing who it was, Mickey ignored it.

Ian had been trying to get a hold of him for an hour now. Mickey knew it was because Debbie had pissed his husband off again, but he had no interest in dealing with Ginger-Gallagher drama at the moment. Ian called again shortly after the first call, the shrill of the phone in his pocket permeating the tension that was radiating off the handsome stranger next to him.

“Wife?” the man asked, gesturing to Mickey’s pocket and the obvious ignoring of the calls. Mickey then realized that the stranger had seen the ring on his left hand and just ignored it. Bastard, Mickey thought.

“Husband,” Mickey corrected, always thrilled to do so these days. It wasn’t necessarily because he was proud to be a gay man, he was just incredibly proud to be Ian Gallagher’s husband. He’d tattoo it on his forehead if he hadn’t already gotten a dumbass tattoo for his husband back when he was first locked up in the joint.

“Ignoring him?” the man pressed and Mickey was starting to become more annoyed than flattered at the forwardness of the stranger.

“Just his family drama,” Mickey said, not sure why he was telling this man anything. Then again, bitching about the Gallaghers was something that just happened no matter who you were talking to. Mickey could remember the time before he was with Ian and he would hear everyone in the community talking about how messed up the Gallaghers were. Being a Milkovich, he never thought any other family could be more dysfunctional. When he finally fell for Ian and became more familiar with the inner workings of the Gallagher family, he finally understood the chaos that everyone else saw. However, that chaos was something that he had gone on to love greatly.

They were his family.

“Yeah, that shit’s never easy, man,” the man said.

“What shit?” Mickey asked, trying to see where the stranger was getting at.

“Just that I’ve dated the crazy ones before and the baggage of their family is never worth it. No matter how good of a fuck they are,” the man said and Mickey raised his brows.

“Classy,” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. Clearly, the man realized he had hit a nerve and was trying to backtrack when a loud shout echoed from up the street. Mickey turned just in time to see Frank stumbling out of a bar that clearly wasn’t the Alibi as the owner yelled at him. Frank, who was already drunk enough to forget where he lived, shouted obscenities back at the bar, shoving his middle fingers to the sky before falling over. “Fucking Frank…” Mickey said, exasperated.

Even before they were married, Mickey had joined in on the “find Frank” game and had had his fill of finding the drunk passed out under bridges and in sewers to last a lifetime. While he didn’t care what happened to the deadbeat, he knew that Liam and Franny would, which is why he tended to try to keep Frank from ending up in the morgue when he could.

“Seems like everyone around here knows Frank Gallagher, huh?” the stranger said, leaning against his dormant car. His arms were crossed, accentuating the forearm muscles that were hidden under the long sleeve shirt he wore. The man laughed as he saw Frank try to get to his feet but failed. Mickey cringed as Frank stumbled again, crashing into a stack of trash cans.

“Fuck,” Mickey said, knowing he was going to have to do damage control with his niece when her grandfather came home looking like he slept in a dumpster. “That’s my fuckin’ cue,” Mickey said, pushing off the side of the car.

“You all take turns looking after the city drunk, huh?” the man asked, amused by Mickey’s distaste for the derelict.

“No,” Mickey said with a sigh, “just those of us who are unfortunately his fucking family.” This seemed to shock the stranger.

“Family?” the man echoed.

“He’s my father-in-law,” Mickey said and then paused, “sort of…” Mickey was never sure what exactly Ian saw Frank as. He knew that Frank was not his biological father, but he was also the only father Ian had ever known. Regardless, Mickey was now tied to the man forever. Just as Mickey was about to pull his phone out to call Sandy to come and help him with Frank Pick-Up, the stranger said something to make him pause.

“ You married a Gallagher ?” the man said, his voice holding a hint of disbelief.

“The fuck you gotta say it like that for?” Mickey said, ready to defend his family to the man. “Yeah, I married a goddamn Gallagher, so what?”

“Which one?” the man asked and Mickey looked at him as if he was a moron.

“What do you mean, ‘which one’? There’s only one fucking gay one,” Mickey said with a scoff.

“Ian?” the man asked. “You’re Ian’s husband?” Mickey was starting to get pissed off at this man’s tone and he was really starting to regret even offering to help him.

“I’m sorry, I think I missed a few episodes, here,” Mickey said, “Who the fuck are you and how do you know Ian?” The man hesitated for a second before answering. Mickey waited.

“I’m Caleb,” the man said. “Ian and I used to date.” Mickey didn’t need more than a second to recognize the name. Ian had told Mickey all about his rebound firefighter. Mickey knew that Ian wasn’t going to stay single while he was locked away. Mickey was just glad that Ian wasn’t screwing old men. Hell, he had even thought that the Trevor guy seemed great, but Caleb was someone that Mickey had hated the second Ian began talking about him. Then, when Lip had told him that he and Ian had witnessed Caleb cheating on Ian with some woman, Mickey hated him even more.

Lowering his head slightly, Mickey finally took a moment to size up the firefighter. Caleb was big and Mickey knew that those arms would pack a wallop if Caleb decided to start a fight, but Mickey also knew that he was craftier and if it came down to it, Ian’s ex would be on his way to the hospital very soon.

“Oh, you’re Caleb,” Mickey finally said, staring him down. “The fucker who cheated on him with some bitch and claimed it didn’t matter because she didn’t have a cock.” Caleb seemed perturbed by that but quickly composed his face despite the crassness coming from the other man.

“And you are…”

“Mickey Milkovich,” Mickey said, just daring Caleb to say something else stupid.

Which he did.

“Ah, Mickey,” Caleb said. “The abusive boy toy.” Mickey stopped for a second, wanting to punch Caleb in his perfect face.

“Abusive…” Mickey echoed, not liking the accusatory tone in Caleb’s voice.

“Ian told me all about how you used to beat on him before screwing him like he was your bitch,” Caleb said and Mickey could hear the anger in his voice. Mickey knew that Ian had been hurt after a lot of their arguments. The worse one being when Mickey had beat him up after the Terry incident. Mickey had never felt more horrible in his entire life than when he had done that. Even now, he tried to make up for it even if Ian said that he had already forgiven him. The thing was, Mickey had never forgiven himself for the beating he had given Ian in that gravel lot.

However, hearing that Ian had called him abusive, especially to someone like Caleb, just made Mickey more pissed off. Not necessarily at Ian, but more at the situation as a whole. This was who Ian felt the need to run to after their break up and regardless of how attractive the firefighter was, Caleb had no idea who he was speaking to.

“He did, did he?” Mickey said and Caleb nodded, acting as if he had Milkovich all figured out. “Right, well did he also tell you that the first time we banged, he threatened my ass and tried to beat me with a tire iron?” Mickey asked, spotting the exact tool on the ground next to the rest of the tools Caleb had hauled out. Ignoring the little voice in his head that sounded a lot like his parole officer, Mickey reached down and picked up the iron. “Sort of like this,” he said before taking a swing at Caleb’s windshield, shattering it.

“Fuck!” Caleb exclaimed. Mickey followed up by taking off one of the side mirrors before swinging the iron into Caleb’s face, causing the other man to stumble back.

“Get the fuck off the Southside or next time I’ll hit something other than your fucking car,” Mickey threatened. Caleb was wary of him but didn’t back down.

“You don’t deserve him,” Caleb said and Mickey’s eye twitched for a second before composing himself. It wasn’t news to him that people didn’t think Mickey was good enough for Ian, but he didn’t need to hear it from someone like Caleb.

“You don’t know shit about him or me,” Mickey said. “If you did then you wouldn’t fucking test me.” Caleb stared down at Mickey, but the latter wasn’t backing down. He would go back to jail before he let some asshole ex of Ian’s make him feel unworthy of the man he loved.

When Caleb went to retort, his attention was pulled by a police SUV rolling up to them and Caleb’s smashed car. Mickey didn’t move and he didn’t drop the tire iron as Caleb turned to the cop. “Officer, maybe you could arrest this man for threatening me and damaging my property,” Caleb said, glaring over at Mickey again.

“Mickey?” the cop said and Mickey finally looked over at the man in the front seat of the SUV. He recognized him immediately.

“Arthur!” Mickey greeted with a grin.

“Hey man!” Officer Arthur Tipping said, offering his fist to Mickey who happily tapped it with his own.

“You know him?” Caleb said as Mickey grinned at him.

“He’s my partner’s brother-in-law,” Tipping said with a goofy grin on his face. Mickey liked Carl’s partner because the man was the definition of a loveable idiot. Plus, he always turned the other way when a Gallagher was involved.

“Yeah, Carl’s a cop now, asshole,” Mickey said to Caleb. “Good luck filing a complaint or pressing charges, dick.” Caleb was fuming as he started towards Mickey.

“Woah there, bud,” Tipping said. “You might want to take a few steps back.” Caleb stopped and did as the officer said, but not without sending a death glare towards Mickey. “Need a ride home, Mr. Milkovich-Gallagher?” Tipping asked.

“That would be great, Arthur,” Mickey said with a grin as he tossed the tire iron aside. He looked at Caleb once more and then casually walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You come near my husband and I will make sure that nobody ever finds your body,” Mickey said sweetly before leaving Caleb on the curb and hopping into the front seat of the squad vehicle. Mickey flipped Caleb off as Tipping drove away. Caleb just swore and lashed out at his car.

Mickey relaxed in the car before sighing. “Shit, pull over here for a second man,” he said and Tipping pulled over. Mickey then got out of the car and pulled open the back door before crouching over a half-conscious Frank. “Fucking Gallaghers,” he said as he hauled his father-in-law into the back of the squad car and Tipping took him home while Frank snored in the backseat.

When Mickey finally got home and deposited Frank on the floor in the living room, he went in search of his husband. He found Ian in the kitchen, finishing up some dishes. “Hey, you,” Ian said as he spotted his husband walking into the room. Mickey smiled at him. Ian grabbed the back of his head and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s lips, savoring the taste and feel of his husband.

Mickey kissed him back, but Ian could tell it was less enthusiastic than usual. Pulling back, he furrowed his brow at the man in his arms. “What?” Mickey asked.

“You good?” Ian asked.

“Long day,” Mickey said with a dismissive wave. Ian didn’t look convinced so Mickey pulled him back to him, kissing him deeply. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey, holding him tightly. Mickey sighed into Ian’s mouth, content to be with him after the shit he had dealt with that afternoon.

When Ian pulled back again, he leaned his forehead against Mickey’s, running his hands down his arms. Mickey looked up at him, Ian’s green eyes looking stunning in the low light of the Gallagher kitchen. Everything Caleb had said to him was coming back and he hated that he was letting it get to him. He loved Ian and he knew that Ian loved him, but there would always be that part of him that felt unworthy of Ian’s love.

Ian, being Ian, noticed the look in Mickey’s eyes. Self-doubt was not something Mickey hid very well. Reaching up to cup Mickey’s face in his palm, Ian gently rubbed his thumb along his husband’s face. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” Ian whispered.

Mickey slid his hands up to Ian’s shoulder, always loving how much taller his husband was. With a breath, Mickey inhaled the scent of his love and then smiled softly. “You just...were you,” Mickey answered simply. Ian mirrored the soft expression as he leaned into Mickey once again.

“I love you,” Ian said against Mickey’s lips.

“I love you too, Gallagher,” Mickey said before pressing his lips against Ian’s, falling into complete bliss and knowing one thing for sure: Ian and he deserved each other and nobody was going to tell him differently.

#Gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless fic #shameless fanfiction #shamless

126 notes · View notes

russadler · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Kid

Sims celebrates his birthday while in Langley.

Set shortly before the events of Black Ops Cold War.

SFW/All Audiences

A/N: Happy Birthday Sims! Wanted to write a little piece celebrating this guy as well something that explores the friendship a little more between himself and Adler. I am still working on the next part of ‘Playing With Fire’ so please look forward to that!

February 4th, 1981

It’s quiet in the office by the time Lawrence gets around to leaving, with most of those working desk jobs at the agency having gone home long ago. He’s wrangled into staying late with preparations for the move to West Berlin, the task of housekeeping and procurement of whatever the team needs during their time in Europe having fallen to him.

It also happens to be his birthday, but he feels no need to make the event a big deal. He’s not felt his birthday to be a terribly noteworthy occasion since his father died, but he does enjoy a good celebration with his family in North Carolina when the chance arises. Seeing as he’s stuck in Langley for work, Lawrence feels content with a couple drinks with friends and nothing more.

He’s managed to escape the day with just a few quiet “Happy Birthday” wishes from friends and coworkers, along with some nice cards. Thankfully, no one had brought out a marching band or anything too dramatic, so he finds himself content with the day.

He stretches his legs out and rests them on his desk, as he takes a pull from his cigarette. The agent wouldn’t be caught dead with his feet on the desk during working hours, but with no one left in the building but the cleaners he feels safe to unwind.

And then a familiar voice ruins the peaceful moment of unburdened and precious relaxation.

“That’s against policy, agent.”

Lawrence sighs.

“I’m pretty sure wearing sunglasses all the damn time should be against policy too, but you and Hudson get away with it. What’s that about?” Sims replies, balling a sheet of paper before tossing it at a smirking Adler. The older man leans against the entrance to Sims’ cubicle, arms crossed and waiting.

“You’ll learn why when you’re older kid.” The blonde smiles, patting Lawrence on the shoulder as he rises from his seat to grab his jacket and personal effects.

Sims snorts at the reply. “Sir yes sir.”

“Speaking of older…” Adler starts, smacking the younger man firmly on the back as he leaves the cubicle ahead of the elder.

Sims sighs and shakes his head as the pair begin navigating the hallways of the agency headquarters. “Why do I try to tell myself every year that you’ll hopefully forget my birthday this time.”

“Unfortunately for you, I like you Sims. Meaning I will be remembering your birthday for the foreseeable future.” Russell declares, hand firmly grasping at his cohort’s shoulder as they enter the elevator.

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me it’s like last year again.” Sims sighs.

For his birthday last year, Adler had dragged him onto a flight to Las Vegas of all places. Lawrence admittedly doesn’t remember the 3 days that followed too well, but he sure remembers the hangover.

(He won’t lie, it was fun as hell, but it was a lot.)

“Nah.” The blonde states as they exit the elevator and enter the parking lot and head for their cars. “Nothing too crazy this time, just you, Woods and Mason since they’re in town, and myself. Just some drinks with the guys. That’s it.” Russ promises as they reach his car.

“You sure?” Sims questions suspiciously as the older man opens his passenger door and pulls out a simple brown paper bag.

“I’m sure. Happy Birthday Sims.” He states, presenting the package to the younger.

Lawrence cocks an eyebrow in curiosity, but accepts the gift regardless. He rests the bag on the trunk of Adler’s car before opening the top and peering inside. He can’t help but smile when he gets a preview of the contents.

“Oh man.” Sims smiles, first pulling out a vinyl record titled ‘Soul Syndrome’ by James Brown.

“How did you know?” He asks Adler.

“I don’t need to be a secret agent to know Sims, how did I not know?” Adler responds jokingly, obviously referring to the fact Sims played the soul singer’s music whenever the chance arose.

Lawrence smiles in agreement before setting the record down and reaching for the next item in the bag, a new swiss army knife. “Nice.” he states. “Thanks man.”

The last item he pulls from the bag is a bronze zippo lighter, custom engraved with the symbol of the MAC-V SOG and the saying ‘Hell Sucks’ It’s like a mini replica of Sims’ helmet in Vietnam, which carried both the symbol and the saying.

“Wow…” the man whistles. “This is too much doc…” he states, as he closely inspects the item with awe.

“Never too much for you kid.” Adler responds, a pleased smile crossing his face at the younger’s reaction to the gift. He gives Sims one last friendly smack on the shoulder before telling him to get in the car. “Now let’s go and get some drinks, I’m sure Woods and Mason are waiting. I’ll drive.”

Lawrence nods in agreement and re-bags the items before entering the car. As he settles himself in the passenger seat as Russell pulls out of his parking spot, he can’t help a warmth bubble within him.

“Hey Doc?” He starts, and Adler hums in response as he drives. “Thanks.”

A rare smile crosses the elder’s face as he meets the younger’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“No problem kid, thanks for everything.”

Sims smiles, and relaxes into his seat.

#lawrence sims #russell adler #black ops cold war #bocw #bocw fanfic #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #mine #my writing

59 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Knick Knack Paddy Whack (BAON)

Summary: As far as Stretch is concerned, there's only one solution when you're addicted to thrift stores. Selling all the crap you bought so you can buy more!

Notes: Stepping outside of the main storyline for a moment, we'll get back to the aftermath we're all expecting in a moment. 😁

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch was a bonafide thrift-a-holic, he honestly was, and he knew it. It was an important thing to know about yourself, really, because certain problems arose from bad case of oooh-shiny-itis.

Sure, one ceramic zombie hand thrusting up from the dresser to hold his rings and change was an awesome thing to behold, but an entire collection of zombie hands was a tough sell to the person you were living with, especially if that person was Edge. Not that he’d managed to find a collection of zombie hands and if he had, that thrift store would have been on the weekly check list, for sure. But the same premise applied to ‘zombie hand plus an entire horde of other bizarre ceramics surrounding it’.

Stretch wasn’t bitter about the limitations when it came to his collection, nah, he got it. There were certain things you couldn’t ask for from the person you love, and a house filled up with weird tchotchkes that looked like they belonged to the grandmother of the chainsaw massacre family was a step too far. Plus, asking Edge for more space would be unfair. He’d either agree because he didn’t want to tell Stretch no, or he’d say no and feel bad about it. Nah, the set of porcelain dragons playing instruments in a rock band he’d found wasn’t that important, not if it gave Edge a case of the guilts.

Problem was, Stretch really couldn’t resist sometimes. How was he supposed to turn away a wedding painting of Yoda and Kermit the frog? Or a coffee mug with a penguin orgy on it? He couldn’t, that’s how, but his allotted space was filling up in the house proper and soon he’d started to amass quite the collection in his lab, too. It was when the overflow expanded enough to start infringing on his erlenmeyer flasks that he decided he needed a new strategy. Science waited for no one and definitely not anything with the word ‘taxidermy’ included.

That’s when Stretch came up with the plan. Okay, it wasn’t a plan, exactly, more like a flash in the pants of brief inspiration, but hell, he’d been flying by on those his entire life, why stop now?

One of the places he frequented was an antique mall, which was a fancy way of saying one rung on the ladder above actual thrift store, except they rented stalls for people to sell their stuff, so maybe it was more like a glorified garage sale. People carted in their junk for other people to buy and the cashier up front handled all the transactions. Minimal time, minimal effort, that was exactly what he and his kitsch needed, so Stretch went ahead and rented a stall of his own.

The not-exactly-a-plan worked out pretty well. He could buy something at the thrift shop and proudly display it for a while around the house, and then when it came time to replace it with a new find, he’d add it to his stall and whatever money came from it, he donated to the local kid’s charity that the Antique Mall supported. That meant he got in his kicks and joy without looking like a prequel to a Hoarders episode and Edge only had to deal with the octopus tentacle ashtray for a few weeks.

Seriously, it was a win-win all the way around.

A few things did take up permanent residence, of course; he couldn’t give up his zombie hand. But so long as it wasn’t a clown, (clowns were disposed of by Edge immediately and with great prejudice), he was allowed things like his nested Matryoshka dolls of Nicolas Cages for a time.

About once a week he went down to add new things to his stall, mostly during the weekday hours when the buses were on the empty side and he could take up an extra seat with his box of additions. It wasn’t exactly a secret, Andy came along a few times to help, but he never really mentioned it to Edge. Not until today when Stretch realized he’d let things go a little too long and he had some extra boxes to haul down.

Better to take care of it while he was thinking about it, otherwise it tended to turn into an endless cycle of ‘oh, I should do that today’ and him forgetting, but aside from the extra lugging required, it was also Saturday and the bus would be loaded. Hitching a ride would be required, plus a little extra muscle, and his husband was his favorite source for both.

He found Edge in the kitchen, sitting at their temporary table with his laptop and yeah, it was Saturday, time to drag him away from whatever bullshit work he was doing. Stretch put on his best wheedling face and asked, “babe? can you give me a lift today?”

“Of course.” Edge didn’t look up, what a total waste of Stretch’s beguiling charms. His gloved fingertips were soft against the keyboard as he finished whatever he was typing before glancing up at Stretch, and maybe his schmoozing wasn’t entirely wasted; the way Edge closed the lid on his laptop spoke of a guilty conscious for working on his day off. “Where are we going?”

“downtown,” Stretch tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “i need to hit up my junk and disorderly shop.”

That got him a pause, “Your what?”

“heh, you’ll see.” Stretch curled a finger at Edge in a ‘come hither’ motion that his husband didn’t follow, only watched suspiciously. “c’mon, i need you to help me carry some stuff.”

“This ride is starting to sound less like transport and more like a chore.” But Edge followed him to the basement for the boxes, and, surprise surprise, his willingness to help went up a few notches from wary to eager when he figured out what Stretch was doing. Eh, couldn’t blame him. At the top of the pile was a plush frog with the top hat that played ‘hello my baby’ whenever you pushed on its foot, something Red did every single time he walked past it, plus anytime he’d felt like shortcutting in for a quick press. Time to let it damage the sanity of another family.

The boxes were tossed into the trunk of Edge’s car, frog and all, and soon they were on the road, heading downtown. Truth be told, Stretch wasn’t sure what Edge would make of the place. He tolerated thrift stores well enough, but the antique mall was a different kind of beast. An entire building of obscure collections cluttered together into eclectic displays that others were trying to barter and sell.

There were stalls filled with milk crates of old records, shelves and shelves of antique glassware and dishes. Some stalls had vintage clothing, feathery boas mixed in with disco pants and ruffled aprons. Old instruments, rusty farm equipment, strange kitchen gadgets that looked more dangerous than useful, this place had everything and then some.

Plus, the mall had a certain sort of smell, a musty, dusty scent verging on decay that settled into the sinuses and hung around for a while. Stretch thought it was the smell of a life well-lived and he kinda liked it; after years of thrifting, he associated it with finding treasures, but who knew if Edge felt the same. His tastes in smells (heh) ran more to clean and green, not old-timey funk. Could be it reminded him of shower mildew.

Whatever his opinion of the odors, Edge kept it to himself. He helped with the box carrying and checked out Stretch’s stall curiously but didn’t say much. Probably recognized the stuff on the shelves as having once been on a table or Stretch’s nightstand, until the glee wore off and it ended up gathering dust in the basement. He wandered off at some point, heading into the depths of the mall, and left Stretch to restock his meagre wares.

It took longer than he’d expected. Since he’d opened up his stall, not everything Stretch found thrifting found its way into the house proper anymore. Some of it he bought as a straight-to-video option and he was getting pretty good at finding interesting doodads at the thrifty places that might sell better here, location, location, location, that was the ticket.

Stretch always priced his junk reasonably, usually not much more than he’d paid for it. Wasn’t like he needed the money, and besides, Stretch knew himself pretty damn well, therapy did that to a guy. At the end of the day, he knew what this was really about; all an elaborate scheme to satisfy the inner packrat in his soul that struggled sometimes with giving things away.

Bartering had been built in him before he could say the word; in the Underground, he’d gotten damn good at getting deals for what he could scrounge at the dump. This was the same thing, really, just with slightly different stakes. Dinner wasn’t riding on his latest stash of dvds anymore, always a plus, and these days he could simply look at the empty shelves, content in the knowledge that his Smeagol cardboard cutout had found a new home.

Hey, therapy wasn’t the only way to work out a few kinks in your internal lines.

When the last box was emptied, Stretch wandered up to the front desk to give the lady who ran the front register his new inventory list. That was when he heard it.

There was an old piano up front with a sign on it that said, ‘Do not ‘play’ if you cannot play’. Most of the time it sat silently but someone up there was giving it a good try today. The notes were slower, with obvious hesitations as the player searched for the correct keys, but the song was one Stretch knew. Gently melancholy, a match to the cautious playing.

His curiosity piqued, Stretch wandered over to watch and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see Edge sitting on the piano bench, his attention on his hands as he slowly played. It was a tough choice between watching him play and simply listening to the song and Stretch found himself trying to do both. The uncertain skill in hands he knew so well as they coaxed the music free.

When the last note faded, a faint smattering of applause came from the different stalls around them. Stretch waited for it to end before sitting on the bench next to Edge.

Quietly, Stretch said, “i didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t,” Edge said. He smoothed a hand over the keys, not pressing down, simply touching them. “Not really. I can’t read music, but I know a song or two by rote. A friend of mine pushed me to memorize them.”

Welp, Stretch didn’t have to ask what friend, now did he. An old friend back in another world, and people weren’t replaceable even if they wore the same face. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to; Stretch understood in a way only a few people could, and he settled a hand on Edge’s leg, squeezing his knee gently.

“that was really good,” Stretch offered, “you have a good memory, babe.”

“Some of my memories are better than others,” Edge said. The words were more contemplative than sorrowful, and he didn’t look at Stretch, only touched the back of his hand briefly with his gloved fingertips. “You tend to feature in the best ones, love.”

He reached for the keys again and started to play. The song was more confident this time, bright and cheery, with only the occasional missed note. A handful of other people drifted over, some pausing to watch and some moving on, going about their day with a song to carry them along.

Stretch only tapped his toes and listened as Edge played, more than willing to let him go on until he was ready to stop. If Edge wanted to take a brief dive into the past, then the antique mall was a place for it, where memories and times past mingled with the present.

Besides, a new memory to take home was better than any knickknack.

-fin

Note: The first song Edge was playing was 'Clair de Lune' by Debussy and the second was 'The Entertainer' by Scott Joplin. In case you were wondering. 😁

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

24 notes · View notes

stressisakiller · 4 years

Text

Forgive Me Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 10) EDITED

Summary: What happens when Bucky wakes up to your bed empty and a strange note on your pillow

Warnings: refences to torture. Murder. cussing

Word Count: 4 k

A/N: Can you figure out what her secret message was? Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

Thoughts are in italics

Series Masterlist

<< Previous Next >>

Life in the tower fell into a peaceful rhythm. Waking up before the sun, heading down to the training rooms. Beating the shit out of Bucky, occasionally you let him win, then breakfast with everyone. Steve and Bucky always made sure to go for a run together, while they were out you went upstairs and sat in the lab with Tony. You may not have had a normal childhood but you “father” hadn’t let your education suffer, we believed that knowledge was everything. So, you were able to help out occasionally with the problems that arose.

While he worked Tony enjoyed telling you stories, about himself and your parents. You quickly felt as though you got the chance to know them. As much as you loved these stories it broke your heart that you were the reason they were no longer here.

Tony was finishing one such story when he noticed the dejected look on your face, he quickly switched to telling you about how he became Iron Man. He explained the cave and the fear he felt while stuck there, although he would never admit that to anyone else. He told you of the man who helped him and saved his life, of his sacrifice and the change it caused in Tony’s life. He told you about being betrayed by the man he had trusted the most, you could relate to that.

Life was good, really good. You felt safe with the people around you, you felt loved and trusted. You felt like you had a family. But of course nothing lasts forever.

You lived in peace for two months. Two months of happiness and tranquility, or as much tranquility as a group of superheroes are able to have. The tranquility was shattered one morning about a week before the avengers were to go to trial.

Waking up that morning Bucky got ready as always, he headed down to the training rooms and was surprised to see that you had yet to arrive. Weird, you always arrived before him. He went back to the elevator and headed to your room, some nights you liked to sleep in a space that was your own. Opening the door his eyes fell on your empty bed, it was still made, as if you never made it to bed last night. Worried he hurried over to your bathroom and knocked,

“Hey sunflower, you in there?” the silence that answered him was overwhelming, you weren’t here.

Where on earth could you be? Upon closer inspection of your room his eyes fell upon a note laid purposefully on your pillow. He carefully made his way over, watching closely for any trip wires. Lifting the card from your pillow he cut open the top with one of the knives on his belt. His eyes scanned the note, he felt the breath leave his lungs, was this some kind of sick joke? He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down before rereading the paper in his hand.

Bucky,

Hello, I'm sorry that I must tell you this in a letter, sunflower. But the time has come I must leave before the sun is up. I can't follow your dreams for us anymore. I have my own and they don't involve you right now. We are done my sunflower. Don't try to find me

Your star,

Ps forgive me

There was something off about the way the note was written. It was worded strangely, it didn’t sound like you at all. Not to mention the fact that you would never leave your soulmate like this. He thought back to the night before, you had been just as cuddly as normal, you had fallen asleep on him during the movie that you were all watching. He had gently woken you and walked with you to your room, you had given him a quick kiss and a smile before walking through the door. Bucky shook his head, bringing himself back to the problem at hand. He examined the wording carefully, looking for anything that would explain where you were. There it was, oh you clever, beautiful woman. Of course that would be your message, there is only one explanation as to where you are. Fuck. His face paled as the meaning of your message sunk in. You had been forced to write this message and yet you had found a way to tell him who it was. Hydra.

Your day was going well, you had a great time training this morning, you had pinned Bucky no less than three times. Tony had been in a good mood while you sat with him, his newest project was going smoothly and he was excited to see it in action. The best part had been the movie night that the group decided to have. You fell asleep on Bucky, how could you not, he is just so warm. He had taken you back to your room and you had kissed him at the door before parting ways. That is when it all went to shit. A hand closed over your mouth and a gun pressed to your temple. Your brain was still fuzzy with sleep, putting you at a disadvantage, it was quickly clearing but not quite as quickly as you needed. As the fog began to clear you began debating the best way to incapacitate the guy who currently had his hand on your mouth. So focused on the man behind you, you almost didn’t notice when a shadow moved in the corner in front of you. Almost, the moment that the movement registered in your tired brain you froze.

“Please don’t try to escape, we need you to come with us.” The disembodied voice was eerily familiar although you couldn’t figure out why.

You struggled against the iron grip of the man behind you, at the prompting of the man in the corner, he slowly lowered his hand from your mouth allowing you to speak.

“And why the hell do you think I would do that?” you spat at him.

“Simple,” his calm demeanor was starting to give you the creeps, how could he be so calm right now? “If you don’t we will kill every single person in this building and maybe their families too while we are at it.” your eyebrows rose at his statement,

“Just the two of you?” disbelief evident in your voice.

He laughed, a humorous thing, it sent chills down your back.

“Of course not, stupid girl, there are more of us in this building right now. If you cooperate then they won’t need to be used, they will leave as soon as we do.”

How could you trust him to keep his word? But if you didn’t go with him then there was no way for you to protect everyone. You head swam, you knew he wouldn’t wait long for your answer.

“Fine, but you have to swear that you and your men will leave everyone else in this building alone.”

“You have my word, he only wants you right now anyway.”

“He?” your curiosity got the best of you

“Hydra, of course, now I need you to write a letter, one that explains your absence. One that explains that you don’t want anyone looking for you.” His voice was firm, and you knew that you had no choice.

You nodded your agreement, and the man behind you loosened his grip, but the gun stayed trained on you. You walked to your desk and brought out a pen and some paper, taking a second to figure out how to let Bucky know that you were in danger. The solution popped in your mind and you jotted down your note, hoping that he would understand. As soon as you were done they tied your hands together and pulled you to their escape route. With surprising speed and ease they got you out of the building and thrust you into a car. You fought against your bonds until a needle was shoved in your neck, blackness filled your vision and your eyelids felt like lead, the last thing you heard was a man barking directions before sleep took you.

Cold. All you can feel is overwhelming cold. Whatever you were laying on felt like ice. Fighting against the weight of your eyelids struggling against the darkness that held you. Voices, you could hear voices in the background. Trying to focus on their words but unable to understand what they meant. Wake up, you thought. Wake up! WAKE UP! Forcing your eyes open you flinched as a blinding light forced you to snap them shut. Breathe. Slowly opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings, it looks familiar. Fuck. You were back, they had you again, and you walked right into their arms. Tears welled up in your eyes causing your vision to waver. No, you would not cry, you refuse to cry. They don’t get to see you break. A voice brought you out of your thoughts, eyes shooting to the door. No, no no no no. Not him, anyone but him. But his voice was unmistakable, your heart dropped, your father. No you remind yourself, not your father, just an asshole that stole you from your family and forced you to become a monster. You would not let them break you. The door swung open and the face that has been haunting your nightmares since you escaped walked into view, a cold and calculating smile on his lips.

“Well, well. It is so good to have you back, my daughter. I so missed having you here.” fake sincerity that made your toes curl laced his voice. The gag in your mouth kept you from spitting on him, all you could do was glare. You felt so helpless. He always made you feel so fucking helpless.

“Now now, sweet girl, no need for anger, you must have forgotten that all I have ever wanted is the best for you. You lost yourself these past two years, but don’t worry we will soon remedy that.” He stepped towards you, a rope in his hand, you looked up at him, eyes widening in fear and anger, this was going to hurt.

Bucky ran into the common room, eyes scanning the room widely, gone was the cool calm and collected Bucky. This Bucky had just lost his soulmate to the very people that you had finally been able to escape. He will do anything to get her back. His eyes fell on Tony pouring himself some coffee into a mug you had recently bought for him. Bucky stalked over to him, trying to keep his overwhelming fear from showing on his face. Tony looked up at him as he walked closer, giving him a smirk,

“Hey there grizzly bear, someone steal your honey and piss in your cheerios?” His smile fell as he studied the soldier, Tony had never seen him like this, something terrible had happened.

“What is it? What happened?” Going from playful to serious in a split second. His eyes scanned the room and noticed the lack of his sister, “Where is Y/N?”

Bucky couldn’t seem to answer, he just held out the note. Quickly reading it Tony ended up even more confused,

“there has to be a mistake, she would never leave like this.” desperation coloring his tone and he looked back at Bucky. Bucky shook his head,

“She didn’t, she was forced to write it. She left a hidden message, she was taken by Hydra.”

“Fuck!” Tony had to stop himself from throwing his mug across the room, it was a gift from you and he would hate himself if anything happened to it.

“Ok what can we do, we need to find her.” He started to ramble about all of the things he could do and how they could get to her before Bucky held up a hand to quiet him.

“I think I know where she is. There is a Hydra base in upstate New York, they don’t know that I know about it. I was supposed to be under their control when they took me there but I was slipping, more of myself than the soldier at the time.” He spoke quickly, he wanted to get to her as soon as possible. Tony nodded and called for Jarvis to gather everyone in the mission room. They filed in confused as to what was going on, Steve was the last one to sit down.

“Y/N has been taken by Hydra and we are going to get her back.” Bucky was clear and concise as he explained the plan to them. If everything went according to plan they should have her back in the next two days.

Time meant nothing to you. You couldn’t tell how long you had been back in the clutches of the asshole you used to call father. Has it been a day? A week? A month? All you knew was pain. Your thoughts felt fragmented. Like dandelion fluff in the wind. Bucky would come. Keep Bucky safe. All that matters is keeping him safe. Don’t let them see you break. Your head lolled to the side when you heard the door open. He was back, couldn’t he just leave you alone? Freezing water was thrown over your battered body, you bit your tongue to keep from gasping. Cuts stinging from onslaught, the deeper gashes on your tattoos making the water run red.

“Hello, sweetheart, I think you’re ready to be our soldier again.” His eyes were filled with glee at the prospect of being back in control of you, he had so many ideas of what he would have you do, who he would have you kill. He paused, letting the news sink in before continuing.

“There is no way you can hold out this time.” Your eyes slid from his face, too tired to focus, too tired to fight. The scientist minions unstrapped your limp body from the table that had been your home since you arrived. They dragged you, feet scraping against the floor, to the machine that you had hoped to never see again, the blender. They threw you into the chair and strapped you down, removing the gag and shoving a rubber piece into your mouth. You wanted to fight but you couldn’t feel your arms. They placed the helmet on your head and turned the machine on.

Bucky, forced himself to calm down, they would have you back soon. It had taken them a day to confirm your location and get ready to leave. Now he sat impatiently in the quinjet with the rest of the Avengers, wondering what awaited him at the base. Praying that you were ok, that he wasn’t too late. A voice came over the intercom letting them know they were 5 minutes out. He stood keeping his hands busy with getting ready, pushing aside his worry and doubt. You needed him and he wasn’t going to let his fear get in the way of saving you.

The plane touched down and the soldier was on the move. Ruthless and concise the soldier cut through the guards and anyone who got in his way. The only person that matters to him is his soulmate, the one he is here to save. He made his way through the base quickly, his steps never faltering as he moved towards the room that he knew they would have you in. The room that was the scene of every one of his nightmares. He busted through the door and stepped into the room, the one with the blender, the one where they brainwashed him.

For the first time during the mission his steps faltered, the soldier was devastated by what he saw. You, alive yes, but battered and bruised, face pale and blood running from multiple cuts. A dark purple bruise obvious around your throat. Your face was full of bruises and cuts, your arms were the same. You were staring straight forward, eyes void and he knew he had failed you. He moved to step towards you but your fathers voice caused him to stop.

“Soldier, are you ready to comply?” Bucky wanted to punch the grin off of his face but all he could do was watch.

“Ready to comply.” your voice was ice, lacking any of its usual warmth and emotion.

“Kill the winter Soldier, I have no more need for him.” You snapped to attention, turning to your enemy, deciding the best way to attack. You charged. Bucky brought his arm up in time to block your attack, moving quickly to protect himself without hurting you. You quickly flipped him on his back, standing over him, he looked at you with defeat, he couldn’t hurt you, not this time. A twinkle came to your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before, and you did the last thing he was expecting, you winked. Bucky moved quickly rolling out of your grasp, keeping up the ruse and noticed that your blows were softer than they would be in a normal fight, you were still there. You yanked his pistol out of his holster and pointed it at him, finger on the trigger.

“Well,” came your father's voice, impatience coloring his tone,

“what are you waiting for? Shoot him.” Bucky saw your trigger finger twitch before you moved, a shot ringing out in the otherwise quiet space.

Blinking Bucky turned to see the body of your father fall to the ground, bullet lodged between his eyes. Shaking off the sense of deja vu he looked back towards you. Although your actions showed that you were still at least sort of in control of your body, he could tell that the soldier was at the controller. He took a cautious step towards you. You spun, and pointed the gun at him, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes before you slowly lowered the gun. Bucky reached for the gun keeping his movements slow as he released your hold on it. Gently grasping your chin, he turned you to look at him.

“Hello, my star,” His voice was soft, “It’s your sunflower, it’s time for you to come back to me.” Your eyes seemed to focus for a moment before you spoke,

“I have to finish my mission.” your voice was firm

“What is your mission, my star?” he asked, keeping your eyes trained on him.

“To keep my soulmate safe, that has always been my mission.” you looked confused at his question as if the answer should have been obvious. He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“I am safe, my star, your sunflower is safe. Your mission is complete, you can let go.” At his words, your eyes rolled back and you collapsed. His arms wrapping around you before you could hit the floor. Bucky picked you up and began to carry you out of the godforsaken base.

You wake for a moment as he carries you towards the exit, seeing his face, you were able to relax for the first time in days.

“Bucky?”

“Hush, little one, I have you now, we are heading home.”

The next time you woke up you were in the tower hospital, feeling weak but better than you had when you passed out. Your eyes were drawn towards the hand that currently engulfed yours, it was connected to the sleeping form of your handsome soulmate. Reaching across yourself with your free hand you ran your fingers through his hair. The soft feeling, waking him up from his sleep. Raising his head Bucky looked at you. Tears forming in his eyes as he noticed you were awake.

“Hi,” your voice was rough from screaming. His eyes softened, his metal hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“Hi yourself, little one, you scared the shit out of me.” you chuckled at him

“Wasn’t my intention love, they got me to go with them because they threatened you. I promised that I would take care of you. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize, I am just happy that you are back with me and that you are safe.” he rested his forehead against yours as he spoke, as if he could force the words into your head. You cleared your throat, a question at the forefront of your mind.

“What day is it? Did I miss the trials? Knowing them they took me when they did to keep me from testifying, they wanted me to forfeit my right to be heard.” you anxiously awaited his answer, worried that you had ruined everything.

“No, little one, we still have a couple of days before the trials start. You were gone a total of two days, and out of consciousness another. You will still be able to make it to the trial. I have a feeling that your injuries might just swing the jury in your favor.” His lip turned up, but there was pain in his eyes, he drew his hand from yours and gently rested it on your hip where the cuts were the deepest, they had cut you to figure out which tattoo was your soulmark.

“Well I’m glad something good came out of this.” sarcasm evident in your tone as you tried to make light of the situation.

“Well that and the death of the asshole that took you from your parents.” Bucky didn’t try to hind the venom in his voice as he spat out the words. Your eyes widened,

“Wait what? He’s dead?” Bucky looked confused at your question before understanding washed over him.

“Little one, he turned you into the soldier and told you to kill me. You pulled your punches and when you stole my gun he ordered you to shoot me, but you shot him instead.”

You could tell that he was a little worried about how you would react. As much as you hated the man you had still believed him to be your father for the majority of your life.

“Good, the bastard deserved it.” you looked away from Bucky’s face as you spoke, shame prickling behind your eyes because of the sadness you felt.

“I do have a question though, how were you able to fight his control? Why didn’t you shoot me?” You looked at him surprised by his question.

“They haven’t truly had control over me since I got my tattoo.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to it. “When they tried to activate the soldier after the mark showed up I was able to talk to her. We agreed that you were as much her soulmate as you are mine and that we would both do whatever it takes to protect you. You became our mission.” you took a deep breath before continuing, pulling your eyes from Bucky’s face.

“The soldier and I are one, as much as I hate a lot of the things she did, she had as little of a choice as I did. She takes control when they activate her, but I am no longer trapped in the backseat. I’m able to talk to her, and most of the time, she listens.”

Bucky looked down at his hands in confusion, wondering if he would ever be able to say the same about himself and the winter soldier. Could they ever work together? He let the thought go as he watched you yawn.

Picking you up, he took you back to his room, you were well enough to sleep in a real bed tonight. Heaven knows you needed it. He laid you down and pulled you close, smiling at the feeling of you nuzzling into his side. Those questions could wait till later, for now, he would enjoy sleeping next to his soulmate again.

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

#winter solider fanfiction #winter solider x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #hello sunflower

31 notes · View notes

the-siren-and-the-sailor · 3 years

Text

A story written by me and my little brother!

THIS TOOK MONTHS! INTERACTIONS, ESPECIALLY REBLOGS, ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

“Now, hold it at an angle… there, that is perfect. You are a natural, Mal gein,” the woman helped her son adjust his hands, so that his dagger was properly positioned on the sharpening stone. She had a sword in her own hand, and used it to further demonstrate the way it was done.

He slowly turned the tiny blade from side to side, his eyes fully trained on it in childish wonder. Sparks flew off the wheel haphazardly and Spear giggled at the flashy sight. His mother, however, looked after him worriedly. She was not surprised when his finger slipped and nicked the blade, quickly snatching a bandage as he began to cry.

She gently shushed him, taking his hand and wrapping it in the cloth. He started apologizing through tears, but she once again quieted him.

“It’s alright, mal kendov, there is no shame in pain. That is why the gods gave us loved ones. To unify us and to lift one another up. Never forget this.”

~*~

Iýa looked the sleeping Daphne over from atop her starry perch with pity. “Struck by lightning at sea, I’m afraid. You were right to bring her here, Leonora. Let me see what I can do…” With this, she held Daphne and ran a glowing hand over her scales. The blistering burn slowly began to melt away, and Daphne’s eyes fluttered open.

Upon recognizing her surroundings, she squirmed in her mother’s arms and began to cry. She didn’t know why she was crying, exactly. Perhaps it was the way her sister had told on her mistake, or the way her mother looked at her regardless.

Either way, Iýa held her through every moment of it, crooning a lullaby in her ear and assuring her she was safe and loved. And whether Daphne believed it or not, it was the truth.

~*~

Trouble had begun to brew in the east, and the envy of the first man blew the growing storm westward. He stole a star from the Fair Folk’s skies, a great blasphemy against them and their Goddess of the sparkling Night.

While Asem was powerful to an egregious degree, the Fae still felt it necessary to push back against the man’s arrogance. This led them to go to their Goddess and make a wish.

But while the crown of Asem began to fracture his family and kingdom, the Fae’s wish had already been set in motion. Stories began to fly of monsters in the woods beyond the Faerie trading ports. Sailors would return, describing massive men as tall as trees, covered with midnight fur.

Those that knew waited with baited breath. Asem’s sin had brought him to justice all on its own, and yet the beasts made to destroy him already existed. The Fae only hoped to now hide these frightful children they had created…

~*~

Daphne sneakily slipped behind a pillar of sandstone, warily watching her back. Out of the corner of her eye, a pale pink fin darted out of view. Caught.

She would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the pressing need to not be detected. But did that poor pallid mergirl think she was being secretive in her attempts to win the match? The princess certainly hoped not, for the girl’s sake. In any case, she tapped her hand against the wall, and an icy open clip appeared around it.

With this, she allowed herself to let slip a quiet giggle and darted away behind another pillar. She coiled herself around it and promptly turned herself into pure water, so that she was effectively invisible.

Just as she had hoped, the pinky girl swam around the pillar, and was disappointed to find the princess wasn’t there. Daphne flicked her wrist, causing the clasp to snap around the girl’s tail, trapping her and making her yelp.

Revealing herself, Daphne resumed her tail, cackled like a witch, a shot ahead to claim the final prize. She snatched the flag, waving it excitedly to show off to her fellow competitors. They swam out from their hiding places, arms crossed and brows furrowed, and threw joking insults her way.

“How do you keep doing it, you wench, you?” One of them, Marina, snipped lightheartedly.

“I guess I’m just better than the lot of you,” Daphne quipped smugly.

With this, they giggled, laughed and talked, as they made their way back to their dwelling place in a cave nearby. When there, Marina and the pink tailed girl pulled Daphne into a private room to talk.

“What’s this about, ladies?” she said with slight apprehension.

“Well, we’ve been thinking. And, we figure you have the most experience with the outside world…”

“We didn’t want to send someone with anything less. And since these ‘Children of the Night’ are so out of control, even now, we thought you ought to-”

“Please, Daphne. You have friends, don’t you? The scholar you lived with in the human’s city, or what about that half-blood you got along with so well?’

Daphne held up a hand. “No, no. Cain and his family are more their targets than anyone else. And goodness knows where Ion is- frankly I don’t think they’d be able to help, anyway. And Leonora, well…”

A tense pause. They were isolated and their friends were scattered, and they knew it. What could they do? They needed the other civilizations to keep theirs afloat; they couldn’t just barricade themselves in.

“I have one last idea. Voyagers of all peoples have been the lead storytellers and information providers through this. People are bound to go to the Fae to find out what’s going on. If I wait there, I can intercept someone, get them on our side.”

And so the plan was set. Daphne gathered her things, set Marina in charge of the people, and set off for the forest shores.

~*~

After two decades of dedicating his life to a Spectrum Kendov (or Warrior), Spear had reached the point of the highest physical strength and endurance as well as elemental power of the Northern Dragon standards. A Spectrum Kendov was the highest honor a Dovah could accomplish, by defeating two God-like beings… Perun, lord of earth and all Hell fire, and Scorpio, whose stars reigned with war and bloodshed of all the other Zodiac beings.

Spear walked into the Champions Arena, the crowd roared with anticipation and excitement, for the supposed Spectrum Kendov, meant to protect them from all great evil had finally come to claim his title. His helm, shaped to match his demon horns, had already been placed upon his head, and his eyes, glistening with power and will, looked at his opponents, with no urge to kill, but to have mercy when they were beaten to the ground.

"Well, isn't this a sight to see!" Perun's deep booming voice shouted, "Another one ready to die just to claim a glorified and honorful title he just can't have!" Perun had always been the one to provoke those who had high egos, yet Spear remained unmoved with his words.

"Ain't that the truth, this little man is nothing but a few twigs tied with some leaves," A lighter, cockier voice came from Scorpio, whom was the one to provoke others who share his personality, "Sure he has a bit of a size… but he ain't average height, that's for sure!" Perun and Scorpio boomed with laughter.

"Gaah! What the fu-?" Scorpio never finished his exclamation before he was thrown into the arena wall after being punctured with a double axe bladed spear, Spear's personal weapon. The fight had begun, and Scorpio had already yielded to Spear, he was in so much shock he forgot how to fight, while Perun sprung into action with his flaming axe bladed chain, grinding the ground around Spear. As Perun made a final smash to where Spear was, a thunderbolt the size of five struck upon him, leaving Spear's weapon in his back.

Spear retrieved his weapon from Perun's back, and showed mercy on him and Scorpio, for they were only trying to find the true Spectrum Kendov. The tribe went wild and shouted, "Spear is our Guardian! All praise whoever's watching us that we have our Guardian!"

Perun spoke to Spear after he was helped up by him, "We stood no chance- your small appearance is really deceiving to your skill in battle and power. Scorpio and I made an agreement that we would be the Spectrum's protectors, because while you may be strong, you are not immortal."

Spear spoke in a gentle yet stern voice, "Indeed, and I would rather have someone by my side fighting with me, than having more power and relying on that to fight."

Perun and Scorpio took Spear to the North Tower, the one place where all you see is South. "The Wind of the Northern Winter lies here, if it finds you worthy of its own power, then you are the Spectrum Kendov, and you know what responsibility comes with that title…" Perun spoke grimly and sorrowfully as he finished his speech.

Spear responded, "I know all too well of the prophecy, but I'd rather know than not if… he… is to come in my lifetime…" The Wind of the Northern Winter flowed through his veins as he entered the tower, no cold came upon him, yet he felt he could never feel too hot. He had been chosen to be the Spectrum Kendov, the Decimator of Alduin as legend goes- but that time had not come, for another challenge for Spear and the Northern Dragons arose down South…

~*~

Nightmares plagued the residents of the trees, no doubt the Interlopers used these horrid dreams to communicate. Below the leaves, the devils hung Fae bodies in shackles, pulling and picking at them until they bled. Those above pleaded to their gods that they and their children would not be next.

The Interlopers held a ravenous, morbid curiosity. It drove them out of the forests, beyond the lands of the Fae. They tormented the remnants of the first city, the servants of the iron god and the blood necromancers of the east. Their cruel hands found their ways into the lives of the Imitites, the Ortothans, and the Dovahs who had ventured South from their home.

Even the sirens below the freezing southern waves and ice were not immune to this. They poked their heads up to find massive beasts afoot in the snow. The ice cracked under their weight, leaving them vulnerable under the sickly yellow eyes of their attackers. They sent ships to the flesh shepherds and wonder makers on land, and even some to their Fae ancestors still in the woods, but none returned.

They looked to their princess, the demigod of the moon, sea, storms, and dreams, to provide them with weapons and armour, food and shelter. She didn’t know what to do- how could she possibly slip past these monsters? They were everywhere! Not trusting the gods of the Fae she was created by, she turned to another. Going to the sea serpent of lost memories, she prayed.

The Northern Dragons reacted differently however. In their attempts to sail across lands and create new colonies, they had run into what seemed to be giant creatures of great physical strength. Those that were exploring had either been missing for a great time, or had come back with their boats and sails barely holding together, while one man handling the boat itself.

The Dovahs had decided that Spear, the Spectrum Kendov, should be the one to seek out what they heard were called Interlopers, and hunt every single one of them down. While they planned his exploration, they had caught wind of creatures called the Fae, who were being hunted by these Interlopers. With all of this information, they had compiled a plan to not only bring the Fae as an ally, but to begin not a war, but a hunt against the Interlopers. So Spear untied his sail, pushed against the boat onto the water, and sailed to what the Dovahs called the Midlands, the land between Northern and Southern lands.

~*~

Sailing across waters long, Spear found himself beached at the Midlands; scanning his surroundings he finds that a forest grows thick ahead. Grabbing his weapon off of his back, he is ready for any battle to come, as he senses danger within the dense woods. He jumps off the boat's prow and lands with grace, while only sand from where he stood moved. He sneakily and quickly veered into the woods, and found that it was vast and compacted with large, kapok trees. Spear took note as he is only used to his native Blackwood trees.

A sound appeared suddenly, Spear silently leapt to the back of the closest tree, and peered upon what looked to be what he was hunting. An interloper, magnificent in size and mass, making an absurd amount of noise through each footstep, looking like a bear on two legs, as it was covered in fur. Spear slowly and expertly aimed his weapons towards the Interlopers head, and threw. After a clash of weight caving down onto a tree, the body of the interloper crumbled into a pile of jade rocks, it was dead. Spear walked over to his weapon, sensing no other large beings around, and picked up his weapon.

Suddenly, a sharp pain dug itself into his shoulder, and he turned to be met with the end of an arrow, made of, was it ice? "Gaah! Shite! What the heck!?" Spear jumped behind a tree with an arrow in his right shoulder. "Alright, who has the bloody galls to face me in combat? I warn you, I am a Dovah!" Spear left the arrow in his arm so as to not cause more bleeding, and switched to his left hand to weild.

"Come on out Interloper! I may have mercy on you if you do!" A feminine voice shouted from beyond Spear’s field of vision.

"The hell do you mean Interloper? Is that pile of rocks not what a dead one looks like?!" Spear shouts, aggravated that he was accused of being something he wasn't.

"Wait...who are you, if not one of them?" The woman’s voice spoke once more, and Spear sensed confusion and fear in her voice. She must’ve shot him thinking she was being hunted by him.

"I'm coming out slowly, I would appreciate it if you would not shoot me again!" Spear tentatively stepped around the tree to see the figure's ice-sculpted weapon out, but not ready to fire. "I am Spear, Guardian of the Northern Dragons….who the Hell are you?"

"Princess Daphne le’Iýa, Faerie demigod of the ocean," Daphne realizes the wounds and puts away her bow while stepping towards Spear. Spear was obviously hesitant and held out his weapons towards her. "Look, I thought you were one of the monsters, and had I known you were not, I certainly wouldn't have shot you. I can fix that wound better than you can. Please, it's the least I could do."

Spear recognized her honesty, while still noticing fear in her voice. He let her come close enough to slit his throat, but she pulled the arrow out of his arm, and immediately started singing in a language the Spear only knows through ancient Faerie scrolls, and his arm healed, leaving only a scar to remember.

"You are skilled in your magic, I'm glad to have met you, even if I met your arrow first,” Spear spoke honestly and jokingly, as he knew that forgiving this supposed Daphne would be the best way to start a bond.

"I am truly sorry about that. Is there anything else I can do?" Daphne didn’t seem to want anyone else after her, and tried her best to apologize to Spear.

"Do not worry, you only shot in defense without fully knowing who you were shooting at, I can understand this," Spear patted her shoulder to assure her. "Maybe we can both benefit from this event of meeting each other… you could find safety and rest back in my homeland, and then you can share what you know about these Interlopers, this way we both are happy with what we get."

"Have you forgotten about my actions so soon? I shot you!" Daphne was dumbfounded by Spear's quick dismissal of what had happened to him. Although he shook his head at her.

"You need not worry of your actions, for they were acted upon through fear and reaction, you were only trying to keep yourself safe. I can help you with that." Daphne tried to oppose and tell him that he should not be so dismissive about the event, but Spear assured her through a side hug, which caught Daphne off guard enough for Spear to walk past her and towards his boat.

“Wait,” Daphne called. Spear turned back to look back. “The last time I crossed the ocean with someone, things ended up, well… not so good.”

“You’ll be quite safe with my people,” Spear said. Daphne shifted a bit, eying him with wary hope. He was exactly what she set out looking for, after all. “And besides. If you find yourself uncomfortable, you can always use your arrows again,” he said with a playful wink.

With this, Daphne giggled slightly and followed behind. Exiting the thick forest, the two climbed onto the boat. Spear set sail to Scandinavia, the land of the Northern Dragons. To which the two made the journey, to the next step in either great failure, or triumphant victory…

~*~

The pair tentatively made their way across the ocean, skirting past the Interlopers ships to find themselves on the icy northern shores. The princess scurried to and fro, fascinated by her new environment and its people. How different they were than the people of the places she had previously resided in…!

They were Children of the Sun, but unlike those in the First City, these people were pale, blonde, and above all, kind. They welcomed the man- Spear- back with open arms, and were more than curious to meet the woman he had brought along with him. They peppered her with questions and gifts and sights to see, until eventually she was taken to a large building made from an upside-down wooden ship, which they called the Companion’s Lodge, a place to plan a hunt of glory and honor.

Suffice to say, she should’ve known that the man she crossed the ocean with would be the leader. She also met his guards, the most different of men but an excellent team nonetheless. Here, the four pulled out books, maps, stories and paintings, pouring over them in hopes that a hint would be found. A sign that the plans they would go on to make were possible.

After much studying and deliberation, they had had enough. What better way to understand these monsters than through personal experience? Better to dive right into cold waters than to waste your time slowly wading. It was a siege they wanted, and it was a siege they would have.

~*~

The battle was ferocious, haunting... yet it yielded knowledge to Spear and Daphne. As Spear took two dozen Dovahs with him, all with different elemental abilities, Daphne trained in her skills with water. During this time she was informed of something from Spear she never expected.

"It is tradition when one makes an ally of another, they would train each other of the other's weapon, so that the bond goes beyond words of trust, it is also trust of possessions." Spear spoke to Daphne in hopes to have created at least a friend with her. "I believe we are trusting of each other, so… what do you say?"

"Uhm…" Daphne was caught a bit off guard. Her bow being one of few things she kept to remind her of the home she came from. "I'm not sure… I mean, I trust you completely… but I don't want to give my bow to anyone really…" She obviously didn't want to hurt him in any way, so she tried her best to tell him in the kindest way.

"Well, maybe we can teach each other of how to use one another's weapons, that way if we do switch weapons, it won't be devastating in battle," Spear was trusting towards Daphne, mainly because he felt a strong connection between them. Even so, Daphne felt guarded towards him, yet she agreed to training each other, as she remembered, ‘iron sharpens iron.’

While Spear was able to pick up her bow and use it with tremendous strength and agility, Daphne had immediate trouble with how to begin using Spear's complicated weapon. Until Spear suggested using it as a spear, not an axe, Daphne then swiftly grew more attuned to the weapon.

While this was happening, the Interlopers stronghold was being populated with readily growling beasts, yielding to tear apart anything that came. Just before the battle began, Daphne and Spear switched weapons, and having learned each other's weapons, they charged in the front line, and made mountains with the piling jade rocks from many fallen and crushed Interlopers.

With their great roar of excitement, the Dovahs roared with them, right into the line of Interlopers. As they crashed through their thick bodies with their hugs weapons, they became berserk and started wailing on them, showing no mercy. They had trained to fight like Hell itself, and they were as demons in this battle, blood soared not spilled, limbs flew not fell, and the morale of the Dovahs only increased. However, even with their great first triumphant starting charge, they started to wear down in numbers, just by virtue of the continuous streaming numbers of Interlopers.

As Daphne was using her water abilities in ways she never imagined using on the frontline, Spear used archery and close combat expertly to the point where he never missed his shots and never came close to getting hit. Even though the two sibling-like fighters were doing well, the Dovahs were still overwhelmed by the increasing numbers.

Many had used fire, metal, nature, and all of them were decimated, while those using lightning were barely holding on as well as wind… however, Daphne noticed something. She peers in close distance to two Dovahs using water abilities, making the Interlopers drown, what was curious however, was that when they were under the water, they couldn't move, therefore they couldn't breath and they died.

Daphne quickly refocused to the battle at hand, and Spear cries out, "Too many have fallen, fall back! Water Dovahs, drown those who follow us!" It seemed as though Spear was also paying attention to his surroundings. As the remaining group of soldiers returned to their outpost, the last two water Dovahs made a wall of water of which the Interlopers could not pass lest they drown and crumble into jade.

Daphne and Spear look at each other in agreement. The battle may have been lost for that day… but knowledge of weakness in their enemies may prove to be the element to winning the war, or as the Northern Dragons call it, the hunt…

~*~

The Companion's Lodge was bathed in a tense argument. They started the siege with the advantage of surprise, but it had quickly descended into mindless violence and death.

“How could this have happened? I thought we had them!” Scorpio shouted in frustration.

“We made sure to bring our best! All different kinds of elemental wielders were there with us, and nearly all of them were slaughtered! What more could we possibly have done?” Perun huffed. Although calmer than the others, his voice still wavered with stress.

“At least we learned their weakness,” Spear started to speak before being cut off.

“Oh, fantastic. Just in time for your people to be killed,” Daphne said icily.

“Our people,” Spear tried an uncertain smile.

Daphne paused and sighed, relieving a tad bit of the tension. “Yes, our people.” She looked around the room, which had largely quieted down. “I’m so sorry. If I had known it would turn out this way…”

“But you couldn’t have. This isn’t any of our faults,” Perun said in a soothing, almost fatherly tone. A somber silence fell over them, each lost in thought, or perhaps simply in grief.

“Daphne could tell us more about why this is happening,” Scorpio spoke quietly.

“I already told you all I know about the Interlo…” she trailed off. That didn’t seem to be the point. “Alright.”

“Well, the Fae goddess- my mother, Iýa. She created me and my… sister, Leonora. But she was made princess and I wasn’t, so I ran away. I didn’t realize why I needed to stay until the Fae had Iýa create the Interlopers we now face.”

A, “But why?” from Perun.

A, “Shush!” from Spear.

Daphne giggled before turning serious again. “The first man- Asem- stole from my people. He took a star and used it for a crown. I was already gone when all this happened, but I’m told the Faeries wished for justice. In return, Iýa gave them the Interlopers. Not that it mattered. Asem’s greed had already torn his family apart. His wives left him, his sons quarreled until they drove each other apart, and his people all left or died in the chaos.”

“And how is it you know so much about him?” Scorpio spoke with a hint of accusation.

She drew in a breath to argue, but Perun spoke as before her, more calmly. “He’s right. Even we didn’t know this, and we live much closer to the first city than you did at the time.”

Daphne huffed and turned away. Spear put a hand on her shoulder, making her tense and then ease up.

“I was there.” Silence. Spear’s hand pulled away. “I know how that must sound. Most people would have you believe I immediately joined the sirens under the ice, but…” She took a deep breath. “There was this boy. I went with him to his city- the first city- and his family. They were nice, but not kind. And I was there to witness this be their downfall. Not that it matters now- and it’s probably for the best, anyway.”

Spear put his arm around Daphne’s shoulder to comfort her, and it worked. She steeled herself again to go on. “Now, as for the Interlopers- in the city was a sorcerer- his name was Noah. I know it sounds like a long shot, but I know him, and I know he could help. I think our next step is to find him.”

~*~

Daphne had hidden herself away under her covers, with a small, glowing gem of ice. Curled up and warm, she sang a lullaby and fiddled with the ginger scarf in her hands. Her sister’s. If only they could’ve just gotten along, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If she had just sought to understand her mother’s wishes for her, or if she had met Asem just a little sooner to convince him not to do what he did...

You’ll never be able to hate yourself enough to rewrite history, that boy’s gentle voice whispered to her. Silently, she nodded. Her heart ached with longing. How she wished she could hold him again. She’d fall to her knees and beg if it meant she could giggle with her sister again, or squirm and cry in her mother’s arms. If this could all go back to normal. But, drawing in a shaky breath, she reminded herself not to dwell on what could have been. She had a new family now, one that truly loved her, and she had to protect them.

Spear meanwhile, took a knife from his shield, which had many, but this one was different. This first knife he had crafted with his mother, the one of few things that actually cut him. He held it in his hands in admiration, as if he had never seen it before. Spear then held the knife to his chest as if trying to hug it, and thought about his mother.

He began singing an old song told by many of the Dovahs, called, My Mother Told Me. He sang it perfectly in three different keys. He then replaced his knife back into his shield, and stood up. He was ready for battle, for exhaustion, even for death… because he was once a boy who cut himself with his own knife… and now is the Spectrum Kendov… he feared not the death of himself, but the death of his newfound sister, therefore he swore that he would protect her, even at the cost of his life...

~*~

"Water is their weakness!" Perun shouted, "Why the Hell can't we just use your powers in every battle and destroy these cursed Interlopers?!" Perun was insistent on being a warlord, making sure everyone had a chance of fighting and getting stronger. Though he didn't realize the bigger picture.

"Every time I used my powers for an extended amount of time, I got tired, that is why we can't continuously use these powers every battle, because it would weaken us to the point where we can't even fight!" Spear spoke angrily at Perun, though he knew Perun's powers worked differently because he was a mythological God, he hated his lack of empathy when others got tired from using them. "Even if we didn't get tired, why should we fight and lose more of our men, when we can wipe them out completely in one big swipe?!"

"What are you talking about…?" Perun's curiosity perked up as he heard this. Daphne opened up a scroll of prophecy, and with her knowledge explained to both Perun and Scorpio more about Noah, a human from the seas, able to control great waves from below ground.

With this knowledge they created a plan, Spear would use his powers that combined into weather to create a huge rainstorm, Daphne would use her powers to raise the waves of the oceans, lakes, and rivers, and finally Noah would use his power to break the ground and gush water from the Earth. Their powers combined should be enough to cover all but the highest parts of the Earth. They trusted that the Interlopers would fall in and sink, while others would either get to the high ground, use boats, or swim in the sea if they were sea creatures. The missing component was Noah himself.

"Where is this Noah?" Scorpio asked urgently, he wanted to rid the Northern Dragons of any threats as soon as possible. Daphne then pulled out a map of the Midlands and pointed out where he could be.

"Right in the middle of an Interloper camp?" Spear grunted this, as he did not want anything to go wrong in getting Noah. Daphne nods, her expression was a mix of anger and disappointment, she had the same feelings as Spear. Perun started to notice the bond between Spear and Daphne, and while the two were talking more, Perun pulled Scorpio aside.

"I remember that Noah was taken captive with the Daevite Methuselah, though I don't know what their intentions were," Daphne spoke to Spear, she was annoyed by the fact they had to fight more Interlopers to get one person.

"I have Dovahs around the area, mainly for scouting. They came back long before all of this and told me that there is a camp, and it's only guarded by about 40 beasts, which I would think are Interlopers. It will only be tedious, that's all," Spear spoke to Daphne, trying to lift her spirits at least a little. It worked, and Daphne thanked him for being the one to look at a mug half full. Spear meanwhile thanked Daphne for looking at every possible bad ending, things to avoid.

As Scorpio and Perun come back unnoticed, they begin to pack for the adventure ahead. They thought it would be a walk in the small forest, so they only brought Spear, Daphne, Perun, and Scorpio. A mistake they made to bring so little to a battle they thought would be easy. For there may be small numbers, but the camp is one of the oldest camps the Interlopers made, and since they do not age with time… trouble is amongst those who venture into these parts of the Midlands…

~*~

The travelers numbering four ventured forth into the seemingly haunted woods. As they were traveling Perun started sensing many things in the woods, small animals mostly. He looked everywhere at all times, making sure they were safe. It seemed the right thing to do considering they were going into unknown territory for everyone.

The trees themselves were massive birch trees, usually thought of as peaceful, harmless. However twisted magic had affected these trees over the decades, and created monster-like limbs and branches. Even with these weird formations, no twigs or branches had fallen to be broken, as if nobody had ever ventured into this area.

They managed to find the camp of the Interlopers, and snuck in. All of them were on high alert, especially Perun, as they crouched and sneakily ran in multiple directions.

Daphne left the group and followed the sweet scent of water, a stark contrast against the putrid stank of things rotting in the dark. The brook led her to a horrid sound, red lights serving as a waypoint. It was awful; the closer she got, the more she clung to the bed of the stream for comfort. But alas, her head emerged at the rumbling thud of Interloper footsteps. She immediately gagged.

There, in the middle of a crowd of singing devils, was Iýa, but it was not really her. This was a massive, sickly tree, the size of a large town. It was twisted and warped, with a thousand wriggling bodies strung up in it’s branches. The aberration was screaming and crying an demonic bellow, all the while the Interlopers hummed as though in joy.

What was this thing? This couldn’t be Iýa, it wasn’t possible! Iýa was a glowing mother, a sleeper in the stars, a granter of wishes. She cared for the downtrodden and oppressed, and all those who could not defend themselves. She couldn’t become this, this...

Meanwhile, Spear, Scorpio, and Perun had convened in the main camp. It seemed that only the prisoner's area was inhabited, there they found the supposed Noah. As they started to unchain him, he started grunting. They quickly shushed him and told him they were there to help, he calmed down enough to be unchained, however, they did not quiet him in time.

Suddenly, a loud sound of seemingly screeching giggling and groaning of war had been shouted, despite Perun's attempts to look everywhere, he managed to miss the entire garrison of the Interloper camp. Spear and Daphne, now returned, immediately stood back to back as if they could take on the whole world, while Perun and Scorpio started smashing their weapons onto the Interlopers. Scorpios scythe had pierced many during the battle, while Perun's axe on a chain whirled around and clashed the heads of many. Spear and Daphne, using each other's weapons as always, were always either defending each other or helping the other attack an Interloper, they were synchronized.

The fight continued on like this until Daphne was thrown to a tree, leaving Spear vulnerable to the last remaining Interloper. Spear looked about him as the Interloper charged his weapon at him….although no injury befell him, rather on Scorpio. Spear threw his weapon and the last Interloper was thrown into a tree and broke into jade. Spear slides to Scorpio's side in time for him to speak to Spear for a short time…..

After his dialogue, his body turns bright and, as if he were being sucked into the sky, his body lifted up swiftly, leaving only his necklace for Spear to bear… Scorpio was dead. Spear shouted out in rage and a thunderstorm started to appear, then it stopped. Daphne hugged Spear tightly, and while Spear was caught off guard by this, he embraced her, being thankful that he was still with her at least. Perun had then brought who was seemingly Noah out of hiding, from behind thick berry bushes, and into sight.

After their journey back, and the heartache of Scorpio's death, they explain the whole plan of how to destroy the Interlopers. Noah was quite panicked at first, but after calming down and hearing Perun, Spear, and Daphne, as well as considering they saved him, he agreed to being a part of the plan. So together, they trained, and got ready for The Great Flood of Cleansing Sin. Factions around the world had been sent a message entitling everyone to either get to high ground, build ships to sail on, or dive deep underwater so as to not be destroyed by the coming flood. Who knew what more sacrifices have to be made to create peace, was it even worth it all? The story continued, and the next step was the extinction of a race…

~*~

Spear, Daphne, Noah, and Perun travelled back to the forest of their greatest travesty, and had one last moment of remorse, sorrow, heartache. The rest of the Dovahs were building their ships to sail on the waters to come, and they decided to go to the location after the prophesied flood.

Daphne didn't know Scorpio for long, but she still enjoyed his comedic comments and his radiation of happiness, and she knew everything would be at least a good amount more depressing. Spear knew Scorpio for not much longer than Daphne, but like Daphne, he enjoyed Scorpio's company, as well as their many interesting conversations… including the one where he told Spear he was getting married.

Spear and Perun had to hug his fiancé for over an hour just to comfort her. Perun was Scorpio's brother, they were not blood related, but brothers nonetheless, therefore Perun, for the first time in his entire life, cried a tear from his eye. All Dovahs remorsed of his death, but only those who truly knew and had a relationship with Scorpio needed time, time to be sad. Then anger rose from the sadness, and all of them started preparing for the creation of the flood.

As Spear and Perun walked away, Daphne tailed behind them and slipped into the nearby creek. She did not have the will to enjoy the feeling of her tail returning; the situation at hand was much too grim. Her mother was now an abomination, her heart torn out for those created to be betrayed. And a man who had so quickly become a brother to her was dead. Daphne never had any brothers, why now that she did would one be taken away so carelessly?

Daphne heaved a sigh and began to sob. At first it seemed that the Interlopers were tools, created to do the Fae's dirty work and then be ignored forever. But they weren’t; they were children. Made for violence and cast aside like waste. And festering in the dark for so long, was it any surprise they didn’t know any better? Was it their fault?

She now knew what needed to be done, but hadn’t they already lost enough? A good friend and a mother gone were too much, how could she bring herself to wipe out an entire race, even despite their actions?

She once again thought of Asem’s family, of Cain, and felt an overwhelming pang of guilt. Oh, all the things she could’ve, should’ve, didn’t do to stop this! Clutching at the clockwork bracelet he had given to her, she did the only thing she could think to do; pray. Not to what was left of Iýa, not to any leviathans or sea serpents, but to a simple god with a simple purpose. She only hoped her words could be heard, that things could still be fixed. But the quiet sound of a thousand voices whispered to her, that she already knew what to do.

Touching a hand to the grass, she began to sing. It was her sister’s song, a flowery poem of spring, rebirth and justice. But this was not justice for her, Daphne thought as the flowers around her began to bloom in unison. This isn’t for the Faeries, their queen, or even Leo (though Daphne did hope she was safe). This was not for Asem or the Children of the Sun, or even the countless cultures that had been picked, pulled, and torn at by the devils.

No, the flood may be necessary to wipe out the horror of their acts, but the flowers now blooming across the face of the planet would serve as the Interlopers grave. And she would ensure this day would be remembered.

~*~

The flowers had wilted as the sun set the evening after their blooming. In the night that followed, light rain began to drizzle. This quickly turned to torrents and lightning that could rival that of even the god’s creation. Flash floods cascaded down mountains, turning creeks into rivers and rivers into great lakes. Forests became cold swaps and Interloper camps were reduced to sticks and blankets.

Those devils that were not fastened in place by the waters took the prisoners by their chains to the summits of peaks. Yet still most of the monsters slipped and fell, leaving the humans, Faeries, and Daevas still in their chains to find higher grounds, both together and on their own.

All the while, Daphne and Spear were deep, deep, down, their magic sustaining and growing on itself on their life forces. Low in the halls of Daphne’s first home, in the strip of land connecting the massive continents, they dreamt.

Hers started out pleasant. She was in a field, picking flowers as fast as her sister’s magic grew them. They took turns braiding the blossoms into each other’s hair, until the ground began to shake and the earth was overturned. They were then older, ceaselessly arguing as their mother futilely tried to calm them. Both sisters stormed off, swearing to never speak again.

The doors slammed shut, and there she sat beside the scholar, quietly watching him write. She reached behind him for a pen to mimic his strange symbols with. But as soon as her eyes turned, she was face to face with the starry iron crown of Asem. Across her eyes played scenes of the brutality and deadly force of the Interlopers- their prisoners crying, her mother’s corpse screaming- and the storms and floods created to wash them away.

And then she saw things she didn’t recognize. Simple flashes, almost ideas. Some were light. Her friends, older and stronger. A wedding, two boys that looked half like her. Spear, in command of legions, and Leonora, princess of the Fae. But some were dark. A corrupt king and his four knights, sent to destroy, going back to their kingdom in cursed shambles. The cadaver of her sister, willingly having given her life to end the terrorous reign of the Fae’s ruiners, and the great profanities she created.

And then her mind went blank. Only the rains remained.

While this happened, Spear and Perun quickly started getting ready while Noah and Daphne had already started using their powers. Perun was there to guard them, but just in case anyone slipped by, Spear created spheres of protection to serve as a shield against any attack, and he surrounded Noah, Daphne and himself. While Spear started to control his power, he saw Perun burst into a flaming creature, with black wings that seemed to be infected with white colors. Then, Spear lost himself to his thoughts, his powers activated, and he could only see darkness.

Then, a flash of light, and he could see everything. He saw the bodies of the many fallen Dovahs that died during the hunt against the Interlopers. In the middle of the body littered ground, he saw Scorpio, his heart pierced, and his body lay soulless. Then, his eyes filled with life, and he got up. Spear stood back in shock and terror at this sight, he didn't realize this was only in his spiritual mind. Scorpio plucked the halberd from his chest, and tossed it to the ground, and then gave Spear a brotherly hug.

As Spear was in question, Scorpio calmed him, saying that it was not his soul that died, and that there is hope for him to live. Spear begged him to tell him how, he said he only knew that the coming Alduin must be defeated, before he could return. Spear was still in question, but Scorpio assured him that he would be a guide of what to do, and where to go throughout his life from now on. Scorpio then touched his necklace, which Spear bared on his chest, and Spear filled with increased power. The Blessing of the Zodiacs, only given to those worthy enough to fight by the side of a Star.

As Spear started calming down, his heart filled somewhat with anger, as he still remembered the deaths of the many Dovahs, and Scorpio. Then his heart filled somewhat with love, as his brotherly relationship with Daphne reigned in his heart, he knew he had to defend her. He didn't even think about his family, his friends, or even anyone else he was supposed to save, and he even forgot about the deaths. All he thought of was Daphne, and even the thought of her being injured haunted him… so he protected her.

In the physical realm, Noah was breaking water from the ground, and Daphne was moving water from all bodies of water, just as planned. Interlopers expectantly charged towards them, but then a fiery creature came crashing down, and looked at them. Horns grew a meter long each, body of a demon, with huge hawk-like wings colored charcoal and streaks of pure white, a tail meters long reached around the creature, and at the end, was an axe, all the while the creature was violently flaming, and was hold a huge Greatsword in one hand, and a Battleaxe on a thick chain in the other. It was Perun, in his true Rising Demonic form, filled with rage. Still in the stage of horror, the Interlopers were then crashed into by Perun, while he wailed his axe around and flurried his sword at them, they felt fear. Even in their terrified state, they fought hard against Perun, though they knew they couldn't take him down, they just needed to get past him. Due to Perun's arrogance in attacking them, many Interlopers ran past him and towards the flooding trio.

Though they got close to them they stopped in horror, as they looked at one of the three. Spear was glowing lightning bright, and a hurricane the size of the entire world started. Even Perun looked in confusion, he knew Spear could never use that much power in any given situation, but he did, because of the blessing given by Scorpio's spirit, and Spear's heart filled with the brotherly protection for Daphne. He created the hurricane that not only flailed the opposing Interlopers away, but immediately started filling the earth with the water.

Clans and Kingdoms around the world were taking refuge to hide from the flood. Samurai of the Isles took to the mountains with the Ninjas of Darkness. The Woodlands Weres took refuge in mountains as well, far from the Isles. The Southern Dragons used magic to protect them from the waters, and the Northern Dragons used ships, as they were voyaging Vikings, and loved the challenge of the storm. And the creature of the water took refuge in underwater caves.

The Interlopers were swiftly wiped out, as they couldn't swim or build boats fast enough, they crumbled into jade as they were suffocated by the rising waters. An entire race was wiped out, all except a few remaining Interlopers that managed to get high enough, but they were eventually taken prisoner or driven underground.

Then, when all the destruction was done, Spear and Daphne woke up exhausted in all ways, using that much power greatly diminished their strength. Perun ran to them in a hurry, and tried offering to help them up, but they both refused and just wanted to lay down for a bit. When they somewhat rested they slowly got up, and Spear and Daphne hugged tightly, and then they looked for Noah. When they found him, his body was resting peacefully, a burnt-out husk as he took his final breath using a great amount of power to help them stop the Interlopers.

~*~

And so the floods receded, and life seemed to simply go on. The sparse handful of Interlopers leftover were dragged into hiding, and their prisoners found their way free of their chains and back to their homes.

Daphne's blue eyes looked upon Spear's hazel, and smiled wearily. Then, they hugged tightly. Though they had made it in the end, many had sacrificed their life to help them get this far. Their mission was done, and Noah, Scorpio, and the Interlopers went with it.

They returned to the Dovah home land, where celebrations had burst forth like lightning. For the first time in a long time, they allowed themselves to simply rest and enjoy themselves. They ate, drank, and were merry for seven days and seven nights, but no time limit could contain their joy.

Until the bitter taste had set in. So much was lost, and yet they partied. But they reminded themselves that festivity was not meant to diminish the sacrifices made to allow it. They honored those that had fallen by reveling in the peace and freedom they had brought.

Perhaps the world would never be entirely fixed, but they had learned by now that it didn’t matter. Spear had never forgotten his mother’s words, and chose now to share them with his newfound sister. That is why the gods gave us loved ones. To unify us and to lift one another up.

“So what now?” Daphne asked him at one time. “The world will never be the same. It’s like, their entire existence has just been… swallowed whole.”

“Yes, I suppose that was the point. But we’ve done a great thing, you know.” She smiled at him and nodded. “And now we… carry on?”

She sighed.

“...And now we carry on.”

~*~

And so Spear returns to Scandinavia, and continues to be the Spectrum Kendov, Guardian of the Northern dragons. Not only that, but as he bears the necklace of his fallen brother, Scorpio, he feels his night sky presence, watching over him, as if he was right next to Spear. Perun becomes the general of the entire Northern Dragon Dovahs, and sets up a way of communication for Daphne and Spear, making it so that they can continue being siblings. After all of this Spear trains, what he trains for is only in prophecy. At first he didn't believe it, but as soon as he found a scroll prophesying Noah and the flood, Spear began his training to fight Alduin…

Daphne found herself aimlessly wandering when the Flood had finally left. She met the madman Ion again, and helped them raise their religion. And after a while, her path crossed that of the scholarboy from the first city again. They were married in a temple of the Iron God, and when that church no longer accepted them, they fled to build a family and a city of their own. Every now and again, the princess, now queen, would ride the waves north to see her Dovah brothers, just as they went south to meet her, as well.

The Interlopers fell into legend, the ghost stories that would frighten children at night. All had forgotten them but the Faeries and the Dovahs. They mourned for the losses caused across the world, and for all that they had allowed themselves to do and believe. So when the Apollyons came to conquer the Faeries, they accepted their fate in hopes that justice could be served properly this time.

And Iýa? She tore out her own heart to make the prison the Interlopers requested, where Asem rots to the present day. Her body, similarly, decays in a cavern just below it, as do the few remaining Interlopers and the Apollyon knight who failed to seize her. The Wormwood trees had long since pulled it into an underground cavern, wiping its memory from all those above. All that was left was a scar. Although Dovahs were disconnected from this magic, therefore they could remember all.

Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here. About the envy of Adam, about the failures of the Fae, or maybe about the levity blindly doled out by Iýa herself. Or maybe it's about the teamwork of those who opposed the Interlopers, the love that bound them together, and the relentless courage they wielded. We may never know.

And so, the book closes and another story is shelved.

~*~

Well, dear reader, if you've read this far, I couldn't possibly thank you enough!

And many, many thanks to my little brother, Spear (@jack-spear-eye), for helping me on this!! Scorpio, Perun, and Kendov (Warrior) Spear (his self-insert), and the Dovahs are all his creations; Daphne is mine. We created the plot together, and the worldbuilding in general belongs to djkaktus (based on SCP-6666, 4840, and 4812).

Lil' man, I swear, he was the best partner on this! Every time I hit a roadblock, he had a new idea that got the gears turning again. It was a big commitment, too, I mean, just look at all that text! But we pulled it off, and I'm glad we did!

Fearless and creative optimist you are, I couldn't have done it without you, Spear.

So without further ado, here's the man to talk about it a little, too!

I did this not for my own gain, but to show others a message of unity, as well as to entertain. Normally I would say something in dovahzul (Dragon tongue/language) But pretty much I just want to say thank you all very much for giving me the chance to be a part of this community, and I want to personally thank Andy (@the-siren-and-the-sailor) for giving me the chance to do all of this, and giving me something to look forward to :•)

And last but not least, the TL;DR!

#please consider reblogging #reblogs appreciated!#writing #📝 written in the history books 📜

4 notes · View notes

the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 5)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, gunshot wound and stitches

--------

A lot of people might think Daphne was cold or heartless. Sure, she had a bad attitude and it was hard for her to form meaningful relationships, but it didn't mean she was a complete bitch. Which is why she felt bad as she looked at the photos of Mr Lee's son, Keiran, and young wife making out. She'd be seeing him later in the week and have to break the news to him. She was planning on breaking into the Keiran's apartment and snooping once he was at work in the day. She still had that gnawing feeling something was off with the adulterous couple.

She'd never had a real relationship herself. She never let herself get too attached. She wasn't sure why, she'd just always been that way. Even as a kid with her older brother and sister, she was the snarky sarcastic one. Her love to push people's buttons left her with little to no real friends and guys didn't like a girl that talked back. She didn't mind. It meant she didn't get hurt. She'd just have sex when the opportunity arose and then wash her hands of it. But she'd be a liar if she didn't sometimes wonder what it would be like. To have that someone who cared. Who treasured her and made her feel special. But then she'd think about how most of her PI work was looking into cheating spouses and how most of the time they had been right. Was true love even real?

She sighed, kicking her boots up onto her table. It was scuffed enough so she didn't care too much. Her boots were paired with a long black summer dress with a slit to her thigh and some thick tights, a black wool cardigan on top. Goth chic her sister Lisa would call it. It made her snort. Her hair was slightly wavy from the shower she’d taken earlier and it had dried naturally. Standing up, she grabbed her backpack and camera and decided to head out to Keiran's apartment. Only this time she was really hoping not to find something.

On her way there, she thought about the guns. It had been a couple of days since the disastrous outing with the Devil himself and the morning after she’d given her evidence to Brett. He was worried, so was she. But it was out of her hands now. And thankfully she hadn't been contacted by Mr Moody to accompany him again. Pulling her phone from her cardigan pocket, she was satisfied Keiran would be out of the house and at work. As she stepped up to the shitty broken intercom at the front, she heaved a sigh. She hoped someone would let her in. Glancing at the names, she just settled on any of them. There was a dull beep as she pressed the button for 'Mr Meyers'.

"Hello?" The sound of an old man sounded.

"Hi there, would you be able to buzz me in please?" She asked politely. She bit her lip holding her breath as she prepared to think of an excuse for him.

"Annie, is that you?" He asked, sounding confused.

"Mhm," she lied, rolling her eyes and getting impatient.

"You forgot your key again, dear? I keep telling you to make another," he chuckled through the intercom.

"I know. I'm just forgetful I guess," she snorted. The shrill buzz almost startled her, that had been so easy. Thank God for Mr Meyers. She slipped inside and jogged up the stairs to the third floor. Her steps were light as she tried to listen for any noises. She didn't need anyone suddenly appearing and wondering why a weird girl was on their floor. She idly wished she had Matt's super hearing. It sounded quiet though and she got to the door she was after.

A few quick moments with her lock pick set and it was open. Her search was quick and efficient. Always making sure to put things exactly where they should be. She felt like she'd searched everywhere and hadn't found anything. She knew she should have felt relieved but she couldn't shake that nagging feeling in the back of her head. She stood for a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to think where something would be. When she opened her eyes again, they glanced around until they settled on a piece of modern art of the wall. She wasn't a fan of the modern stuff. It looked like a toddler just threw paint on a canvas. Her art preference was the more detailed skilled work. She padded over, lifting it from the wall. Sure enough, behind the canvas was a safe.

"Bingo," she muttered.

It took longer than she liked to crack it, but she did in the end. She wasn't happy with what she found. Along with a handgun that had the serial number scratched out, she found copies of Mr Lee's life insurance. It was for $2 million and it would be split between Keiran and Mr Lee's wife. She started to see just why this guy was getting in her pants. Were they planning something together? Or did she have no idea she was being pulled into this? She snapped some pictures quickly before putting everything back where it should be. Before long she was on her way home again with a bad feeling. It wasn't concrete evidence of any plans but she'd learnt a long while ago to trust her gut. Maybe she should move her meeting with Mr Lee up and speak to him.

Her train of thought was interrupted when her phone started ringing. It was Brett.

"Hey, got news?" She asked, walking down the street and weaving through the people.

"Bad news. Last night a whole bunch of people were gunned down. Some biker club. Ammo matches some of the heavy guns you got on film," he stated grimly. She stopped walking and the person behind her who almost collided with her scoffed as they moved past.

"Well that's not good. I guess they weren't for selling then? Why would the Italians have beef with those guys?" She asked warily. As bad as it would be, she'd been hoping that the guns were just being sold. But this was war and she had a feeling the bikers wouldn't be the only ones facing the wrath.

"Not sure yet. We're trying to piece it together. Whatever it is, it seems like the Italians are trying to take over some turfs. I'll keep you updated," he sighed. After they bid their goodbyes, she trudged up her stairs trying to figure it out.

Sitting on her sofa, she wondered just how bad this war the Italians were waging would be. She'd never set out to investigate organised crime. She stuck with her small time thing for years and she was fine with it. But a few years ago Brett reached out when he was hitting dead ends. He'd heard about her skills and he shouldn't have asked her for help but he did. Now she did bits and bobs for him every now and again, especially with her interest in the Italian case. He was a detective now and even though it was still off the books, everyone knew she helped them out. She only dealt with him though. She didn't trust most of the other cops after the whole thing with Fisk. She'd kept out of that shit show as much as she could after one of the crazy Russians caught her and she got a lovely stab wound in the thigh. Then there was the whole mess with The Punisher. All of it had changed the gangs of Hell's Kitchen. Some of them wiped out, others coming back and others even stronger than ever. She hated that sometimes she wondered if she'd grew a pair and didn't shy away from it after being stabbed, if she'd have saved some of the lives lost in the chaos left behind from Fisk and Castle. Maybe that's why she couldn't say no when Brett had asked her to start looking into the Italians.

Either way, here she was. In the middle of a war that was just beginning. And her curiosity wouldn't let her back out now. She wanted to know what was going on just as much as the cops. There wasn't much she could do now anyway. She'd let Brett call her when he had some news and a lead to go on before she threw herself in the line of fire again.

She found herself preoccupied the rest of the day with thoughts on the Italians. She switched between trying to distract herself watching Netflix on her laptop and then looking at articles about the biker massacre. Her phone had been resting on the coffee table. She doubted Brett would be calling her today with news but she waited anyway. She wasn't sure just when she got so invested in trying to help with this. She just wanted something, a lead from the evidence at the crime scene or to do with HCL with the money laundering. Anything that would give her a direction to go to dig deeper.

Trying to block the Italians from taking over her restless mind, she snuggled on her couch with a thick blanket in her pyjamas as she watched Breaking Bad on Netflix. She loved the show and she’d watched it multiple times. She kept dozing in and out of sleep as night drew on. She wasn't sure what time it was when she heard a banging in the open plan apartment. She shot up, glaring at the door as her heart hammered in her chest. A quick glance to the large clock on the wall told her it was 3am now. The banging came again but she realised it wasn't from the door. Looking to the large window, she was startled by Matt in his suit, leaning against it from the outside. Her annoyance glared at him for dropping in at this time. Dropping in at all, honestly. She told him to stay the fuck away and here he was at 3am and waking her up. She found it hard enough to get a decent sleep on the best of days.

Throwing the blanket off her, she stood up and stomped over to the window. She wasn't even paying attention to him really.

"What part of stay the fuck away don’t you get?" She snapped impatiently. He didn't say anything through the glass but then she noticed how his hand was clamped over his chest, how his chest was heaving. Something was wrong. She opened the window to see him better and the moonlight glinted off his suit that seemed wet. Oh. Blood.

"Jesus, you're bleeding?" She asked, her voice getting a little higher. It was a lot of blood.

"Are you going to let me in or not?" He bit out, wincing as he did. She had half a mind to close her window and let him bleed out on her fire escape. But as annoying as he was, she knew she couldn't. She stepped aside and he carefully climbed inside. She took note of how slow he was moving and she wondered how much blood he'd already lost. He stumbled once inside and she quickly wrapped an arm around his uninjured side, making him groan in pain. With a tut, she led him to her couch and helped him sit down.

"Why are you here? I mean I get that you can't exactly go to the hospital, but here?" She asked, feeling irritated. She hadn't expected to have a half dead vigilante bleeding out on her sofa.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," he muttered, shifting as he tried to take off his suit. She wanted to ask about Foggy but she guessed the happy go lucky best friend wasn't his go to for stitching him up. With a heaving sigh, she knelt on the couch next to him, helping him remove the top half of his suit. There was a gunshot wound under the front of his left shoulder. She tried not to be concerned.

"It's still in there, can you get it out?" He asked weakly. She tried to temper the anxiety at how bad he sounded. Not like she cared or anything, she'd worry no matter who it was.

"I can try," she muttered. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom, grabbing the tweezers off the side, the first aid kit and then the bottle of whisky that was on the side in the kitchen.

When knelt next to him again, his mask was off and it was jarring to actually see his face when still in his devil suit, even if it was only partially.

"Don't think this is a routine. You get hurt again, you can go somewhere else," she snarked. Honestly at this point it was more to cover her nerves at trying to keep him alive. He chuckled a little, leaning his head on the back of the sofa as she doused the tweezers with alcohol. One hand carefully steadied herself on his chest and she glanced at his pale face. His unseeing eyes were on her ceiling and his hair was all over the place.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch," she murmured. Honestly, she felt a little bad for him. He just nodded, closing his eyes in anticipation.

She took a deep breath before digging the tweezers in his wound. He cried out. One hand gripping the couch tightly as the other flailed for a minute before he settled on fisting her shirt. She bit back a retort since he was in pain and she focused on fishing out the bullet. Thankfully it wasn't too long before she yanked it out. He was breathing deeply, sweating and looking awful and now the wound was oozing blood at a worrying rate. She grabbed some gauze and pressed it to the wound with a worried frown.

"I need to stitch it, hold this," she said firmly. Still fisting her shirt, his other hand came up to put pressure on the wound. She dug around and got the needle, cleaning it with the whisky before threading it. She tried to ignore the tremor in her hand as it brushed against his, moving the gauze.

When her eyes flit to his face, he was already looking at her with his unfocused gaze.

"You look like shit, Murdock," she muttered with a wry smirk as she started to stitch him up. He chuckled a little, scrunching his eyes closed as she tried to make quick work of sewing him up.

"I feel like it," he replied with a sly grin. She shook her head as her hands delicately thread the needle through his skin, stopping occasionally to soak up the blood with the gauze.

"You're good at this. Not your first time?" He asked. She wondered if he was making small talk to try and take his mind off it. Since he was injured she decided to go along with it. Her anger at dropping in like this would wait until she was done.

"Not a gunshot, but I had to sew myself up after a gnarly stab wound," she murmured in reply.

Her hands faltered as his hand let go of her shirt and settled on her bare thigh, his fingers running over the jagged scar. It startled her how he'd even know where it was but she shook it off. He was weird after all with his super senses. She tried to ignore the fact his hand was on her thigh at all. She tried to reason that his hands were kind of his eyes since he was blind. But the touch was light, gentle almost, it made her feel weird and she didn't like it. She didn't think anyone had touched her with such gentleness before.

"Who stabbed you?" He asked with a frown.

"Got caught snooping by one of the Russians a few years back. Taught me a hard lesson in being more sneaky," she snorted mirthlessly. His frown deepened and his hand stilled on her thigh. A few stitches later and he was all done. She wiped his wound clean before bandaging him up.

His gentle touch to her scar had rattled her and she hopped off the sofa the second she was done. She started stuffing everything back into the first aid kit.

"I wasn't joking when I said this won't happen again. Teach Foggy first aid or something, but don't drop by here like this again," she said shortly, maybe harsher than intended and his frown let her know he was confused by it. He didn't reply, just nodding curtly at her. After putting the bloodied gauze away she noticed him standing from the couch, he was swaying on his feet though and she bit her lip as she walked over.

"What are you doing?" She sighed, annoyed.

"Getting out of your hair. That's what you wanted right?" He bit out. Yes, it was. But as he took a woozy step forward he almost collapsed again. She felt a pang of guilt and pursed her lips as she walked over, pushing him gently to sit back down.

"You lost a lot of blood, you need to rest. Just stop being annoying. You can take the couch and leave tomorrow," she relented. He didn't look any happier than she was about the whole thing but there wasn't much they could do. They both knew he was in no condition to get home just yet. He gave a curt nod, staying where she pushed him back down. This would be awkward as all hell. Her apartment was all open plan except the bathroom and a small closet. Her bed was on the other side and she felt uneasy with him being so close if she was to sleep. But she also didn't want to stay awake and be forced to spend time with him with this tension.

"Go to sleep," she huffed, padding over to her bed. She had some blood on her shirt and a bloody handprint on it from where he'd gripped it. But she paid no mind to it as she climbed in bed, burrowing under the blankets. She fell asleep that night to uncomfortable silence.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

17 notes · View notes

almostkoo · 4 years

Text

Reset Character | Kim Taehyung

pairings: kim taehyung x oc

summary: oc gets dared by friends to spend the night in a supposedly “haunted” mansion that used to belong to a upcoming actor in the 70’s, kim taehyung, oc comes face to face with the spector himself and has questions about the broken veil

word count: 2.9k

warnings: unedited language, mentions of death, taehyung is a very angry ghost at first

author’s notes: last story of spooktober !! omg i can’t believe i did this and finished it !! i’ve gotten some nice feedback over the course of whipping up these stories and it’s makes me truly happy that people are enjoying them :) as always i hope you enjoy this one too !!

link to my main masterlist

The darkness of nighttime made the mansion look huge and intimidating in front of you, Jimin and Seokjin. Losing a drunken bet placed you in the circumstances you were currently in, standing in the walkway to the door of the long abandoned mansion.

“Okay fuck it. If I can’t get the dart on the target. I’ll spend a night in the Kim mansion” you had slurred, arm thrown over Jimin’s shoulder as he had looked at you laughing and struggling to hold his composure. “if you guys make it I’ll spend the night but if I don’t I’ll go. Yeah?”

“You’ll go? If you don’t make it?” Seokjin slurred, just as hammered as you were. Jimin, being the only one who’s head was clear and on his shoulders.

You nodded. Standing back and lining yourself up with the dartboard. You had three darts, three chances to hit the target on the nose. Staring hard at the board, one target turned into four that seemed to be moving around. You threw the first one, hitting the far end of the board. You threw the second one, hitting closer to the target. The last one didn’t even hit the board; it actually almost punctured the toe of Seokjin’s Nikes.

“Fuck it. I don’t care, it's just one night. How bad can it be?” you laughed.

Bad. Very bad. Very fucking bad. The liquid courage that those uncountable shots of vodka gave you had you out of your fucking mind to place a bet like that. Now here you were, superstitious as hell and very frightened to get close to the mansion.

The Kim mansion or known to some people as 0613 Morado Dr. had once belonged to a South Korean film star in the 70s named Kim Taehyung. A young handsome actor who started making his big break starring in a few indies and huge blockbusters before his untimely death in 1976. The medical examiner said it was an accidental overdose of pain medicine he had been prescribed a year prior for an injury on set. But a conspiracy theory quickly arose that it was one of his close friends that poisoned him due to jealousy. Rumor has it that his ghost treads the property scaring away anyone who dare enter.

“Are you ready Y/n?” Seokjin asked, wringing your shoulders.

“No and I wish I hadn’t said I was going to do this. I’m never drinking again. I swear to the heavens.” you said, shaking your head. You could feel the bile rise up your throat threatening to spill out all over the dead lawn.

“Well. Anywho, here’s your tote” Jimin handed you a canvas bag, stocked to the brim full of different things. “you have your sleeping bag, portable charger, charger cord, salt, holy water, lighter, sage. You know .. the necessities.”

“We’ll be out in the car camping out in case anything happens-“

“In case anything happens? What would happen? Why would anything happen? Why would you say that?” you rambled quickly, Jimin’s small hand clasped over your mouth stopping you from going any further.

“No rambling. None of that right now. The quicker you get in there and fall asleep the quicker this all will be over! Speaking of, there’s some melatonin in there if you need it. We gotta blast. This big ass house is giving me the heebiejeebies.” Seokjin patted your tote and him and Jimin ran back to Seokjin’s car parked across the street. You looked at the house in front of you. Patting your pockets to make sure your phone was there, taking a deep breath you started up the walkway to the front door.

You pushed the door open, the flashlight Jimin placed in your tote illuminating the way. You stepped around the mansion and it was big. Tall walls with brown wooden panels and slanted ceilings. Old plants in their pots that had since died long ago, old furniture, laid astray stained and in ruins. The shag carpet in the same state. You could see the beauty that this place had once ago. You continued moving forward through the house going up on the steps on the landing to set yourself up for where you’d be sleeping for the night.

The mansion was chilly, that was for sure. For it to be California in Autumn was one thing for you to be sitting in a “haunted” mansion of a deceased celebrity was another thing. Your nerves were on edge. You had called everyone you could think of starting with Seokjin and Jimin separately. There were only so many people you could call this late at night who would actually pick up the phone and answer. Out of the friends you called the only ones that answered besides Seokjin & Jimin, were Dahyun, Yeosang and Changkyun and that wasn’t even half of them. You dug through the tote looking for the melatonin, before finding it and taking it dry.

Even in the darkness your eyes kept moving around darting around, the feeling like you were being watched accompanied you like an unwanted friend. You leaned back against the wall closing your eyes and letting the melatonin do its job.

Slam! You jumped awake with a gasp, heart beating out of your chest. Reaching around for anything on the floor besides you, finding your phone the time read 3:36 a.m. You fumbled to turn the flashlight on. Your deep breaths were the only noise heard in the house. The old mansion looked the same as it did when you first entered. Scanning around when you saw something in the doorway to the kitchen. You whipped your flashlight around, the figure disappearing further into the kitchen almost as soon as your flashlight came it’s way. Your heart felt like it was deep in a cave beating so fast and sending echos up the walls of your chest. You were terrified.

Resisting your senses telling you not to get up you had to ignore them out of curiosity. Standing up and walking down the steps as slow as possible to not make any noise and alert whatever it was to your current location. You turned your flashlight off, stepping into the kitchen blind. The moonlight that slipped into the windows past the tattered curtain illuminated the kitchen, a soft blue glow almost made you confuse the green tiles of the floor to a different color. If anything was in here it would’ve seen you before your foot could completely make it past the threshold.

Chalking it up as a trick of the eye. Knowing that sometimes melatonin messes with people, you turned away to leave. Why would a film star wanna stay put and haunt people. I’d just go and pass on if I were them. You thought to yourself shaking your head that you were being silly about everything.

“Leave!” a voice whispered in your ear, causing you to scream and run away. Back up the steps instead of out of the house. Now everytime you yell at the characters in horror movies for doing that. It made sense now you couldn’t control your legs, it was like your brain put you in reverse taking you back to the last place you were, nonetheless you still felt stupid for not leaving. Everything you needed was grasped right in your hand, everything on the landing could be replaced.

Yet here you were panting like a dog after a run attempting to call Seokjin and Jimin only to be met with endless ringing. Pulling back to look at the screen to discover you had no signal, zero bars. The house got so cold you felt yourself shake. The shutters on the outside of windows slammed back and forth against the house. The sounds of groaning, like multiple voices overlapping over one another. Crawling back into the closest corner you felt your eyes start to water, a sob leaving your lips. You were frozen in place, glued to the wall.

All of a sudden everything stopped. The house became quiet. Lifting your head up you examined your surroundings. A figure stood at the end of the staircase. You locked eyes with the man at the end of the staircase, his strong glare meeting your frightened eyes. His down turned lips parted in a sigh.

“What the hell are you doing in my home?”

You’d straightened up wiping the tears away with a sniff. Staring back blankly at the man.

He yelled, making you jump. “You! I’m talking to you! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I- I’m just tryna honor my end of a bet. I lost a bet that’s it.” you whispered. The man shook his head. You took in his appearance, dressed in all black. Black robe almost dusting against the floor, striped button down and black slacks. Jet black hair styled in a slight middle part.

“My home isn’t your playground.” the man said, gripping the bannister on the staircase.

“You must be Kim Taehyung?” you asked.

“I’m the only ghost living here so I would hope so.” he stated.

“I can leave if you want.” you offered, wanting to facepalm yourself after asking such a stupid question of course he would want you to leave. Taehyung looked a little taken back.

“You’re not afraid of me?” he asked.

You stalled. “I mean yeah. You just did all that stuff just now. I’m actually terrified, but I don’t know if you’re gonna kill me so I figure it wouldn’t hurt to use my manners.”

Taehyung hummed. “Normally the type of people that come through want to vandalize my home or film ghost hunting videos they say, perform seances to try and talk to me. But if you are just here to truly honor a bet I’m sure another three hours wouldn’t hurt.” He walked up the steps sitting a couple of feet away from you on the landing. You kept looking at him out of the corner of your eye at him as he idly played around with his fingers.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Taehyung asked, coldly.

“I’m sorry it’s just I’m really scared right now. No offense to you Mr. Kim.” you apologized.

Taehyung snorted at your formality. “You don’t have to call me Mr., just call me Taehyung. I’m sure we’re around the same age…” he paused, rolling his eyes “I’m sure we would’ve been or something.. you get what I’m trying to say.”

“I get it. How old were you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“24.”

You nodded in response. You had maybe… 3 hours to finish in the house. You only had to make it until sunrise since that is technically staying the night. If Taehyung wasn’t going to do anything but sit there and be quiet it wouldn’t be too bad.

“So are you tampering with the signal or…” you trailed off. Taehyung made a face like a lightbulb that had gone off above his head.

“I’m sorry. It’s not intentional. It’s just something about me that does that. You’re not the first to complain about your smartphone? Is that what they’re called?” he asked. You held in a laugh, nodding your head.

“I just. I’m confined here. I only see the world when it comes to me. So I don’t really know too much about out there anymore.” Taehyung confided in you, speaking barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine. On the bright side you would’ve been older, maybe you would’ve been the type to dodge this stupid social media shit.” Taehyung looked at you confused.

“Don’t worry about it.” you looked around the house from where you were sitting and up the stairs leading into the bedroom. “Nice house you got here.” Taehyung scoffed.

“Thanks. Didn’t always look this run down.” he said and with a wave of his hand it was like a light came through the place, showing what used to be. The bright orange carpet and brown couch, huge sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling, plants live and green. You looked over at Taehyung, seeing the pained look on his face as dropped his hand, making everything return to normal.

“A little trick I picked up over the years.” he mumbled. You couldn’t imagine what he went through. Having everything pulled away from you so quickly at a young age.

“Bet you threw some cool parties here. I know if i had a place this big I would’ve.” you tried to uplift the mood. Taehyung nodded.

“Yeah I was gonna throw a big bash here when I finally got my Oscar nom. I knew it was gonna happen. I was gonna be the first of the first. Start breaking down all types of doors for people to come in and follow up.” Taehyung wiped away a tear.

“What happened? Was it really your friend? Or was it an accident?” you asked. Taehyung looked at you eyes narrowed angrily.

“Why would I tell you what happened? So you could run and tell my business to whoever will listen?” he asked.

“Who the hell is gonna believe my crazy ass? I spent the night in a celebrities haunted mansion and talked to said celebrity and now I have the answers to a decades old mystery? Get the fuck outta here.” you shook your head rolling your eyes.

“It was a mix of both” Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair “a friend of mine, Hyunwoo he knew my knee had been hurting that day he knew it was. He saw me take my medicine earlier. But little did I know that evening when we sat down for drinks he slipped more of my medicine in, letting it disintegrate in my liquor. I had now clue. When I choked on my own vomit, he didn’t yell for help. He didn’t call 911, like a good friend would. No, he laid me back. Stroking my head, saying his apologies and watching the light leave my eyes and that was it.” Taehyung looked at you, your mouth parted in shock.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” you said, holding your chest.

“All that just to steal my role alongside Al Pacino. The big role, guaranteed to get my Oscar. I don’t even know how the movie ended up working out for him.”

“You know to be honest. I don’t even think the movie might’ve went through production because I have quite literally never heard of it.” you confessed. Taehyung shook his head.

“Well this is news to me. I got murdered just for the film to get scrapped or stuck in development hell.” he laughed bitterly.

“That’s fucking tragic. I’m really sorry, Taehyung.”

“What are you sorry for? Don’t be sorry. You weren’t around, wasn’t even thought of when I died. All things happen for a reason. That’s something I had to learn. It’s hard not to be a bitter ghost. I don’t mean to scare people away to be a dickhead. But I’m stuck here. The last thing I want is people poking and prodding around my home. It’s the only place I can get peace of mind.”

“Hopefully one day you can move on. I know I don’t know you but hopefully ya know.” you sighed.

“Thank you.” he said.

You and Taehyung talked for a while. About a whole bunch of things. From you telling him all about the internet and what it can do and him telling you all about his start in acting. Weird shit and secrets nobody knew about other celebrities back then.

You looked down at your phone, not having checked it for a while. 6:47 it read.

“Fuck. I’ve gotta go. My friends are gonna be waiting for me. They’re not gonna believe I made it through the night.” you said, quickly standing up to get your belongings. Taehyung stood up too watching you walk down the staircase. You turned around to look at him.

“What? Are you not gonna be a gentleman and walk me out? I thought people your age were big on chivalry and shit.” you joked. Taehyung smiled, the first smile you saw all night, big and boxy as he made his way down the steps.

Taehyung paused.“May I ask you something?” You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“Do people.. do people still talk about me?” he asked.

“I mean besides the bad stuff yeah. My friend Seokjin, he’s a film major. They talked about you in his class last week. You’re up there with like James Dean.” you stated. Taehyung gasped.

“Really?”

“Really. Although your image isn’t exploited like his. Yeah people know you.” you smiled. Taehyung stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“It was nice meeting you. I hope everything goes well for you. Work and life and stuff.” Taehyung said.

“Same. I hope you finally make it up there because when I die I’m gonna need a tour guide.” you laughed. Taehyung chuckled.

“See ya around.” he said.

“See ya around.” you opened the door closing it behind you. Seokjin and Jimin were waiting for you, car running in front of the house. You slid in the backseat.

“You fucking made it out!” Seokjin yelled, as Jimin put the car in drive to pull off.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, did you see him? Did you see Kim Taehyung?” Jimin asked.

“No. Thank God I didn’t. I probably would’ve peed on myself.” you lied.

“Wow. What a bummer. I guess it wasn’t that bad being in there.” Seokjin said.

“No it wasn’t too bad at all. I might have to go back home and check out some of his movies.” you said, leaning back against the back seat. Looking out the window, hopefully Taehyung makes it to the sky some day.

#taehyung x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #taehyung imagines #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfiction #bts fic recs #bts fics #taehyung fic recs #fic:reset character #author:almostkoo #spooktober 2020 #HAPPY HALLOWEEN

41 notes · View notes

star-wars-scribbles-ff · 4 years

Text

Where I Belong | Chapter 1 | Prologue

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she'll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, angst, fluff, [more]

Words: 13,623

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me :)

CHAPTER NOTE: Haha I know you’re having a hard time getting past that terrifying word count above if you haven’t already said ‘to hell with this’ and kept scrolling, but I like writing long chapters because I don’t update as frequently as other writers so I wanna provide some good stuff to keep readers busy while they wait... Hope that’s alright? (All chapters aren’t that long; usually around 5k. Don’t worry there’s just a lot to unpack in this first chapter) If you’re still here I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

“We’ve entered the atmosphere, Sergeant. You boys are clear to get ready.”

Pressing the button connected to the cockpit via a control panel on the wall, CC-4811, Sergeant Mash, went to respond.

“Roger that. Drop us 3 klicks south of RV point Axe.”

“Will do, sir.”

Lowering his hand, Mash turned, gaze finding his team doing a last minute equipment check before their coming drop into hostile territory. It was helmets on at 100 klicks, they still had another minute or so.

“Alright, listen up.” Mash held up a datapad, tapping briskly on the screen, a holo of the location of interest shown up into the semi-lit shuttle bay. “Intelligence spotted a Separatist fleet five rotations ago within the Duluur sector. They lingered for one standard Coruscant rotation above Devaron before departing from this sector. It is unknown whether hostiles have taken RV point Bullseye.”

“Why couldn’t we get the debrief on Kamino?” CC-4999, or as they called him, Nines muttered. The squad member was finishing the assemblement of his Deece with a sniper attachment.

“This is a priority mission,” Mash continued. “Retaking Bullseye needs to be done quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Minimal destruction which means no rockets, detonators, or explosives of any kind, hence our silent entry - sorry Hawk.” The smidgen of sympathy in Mash’s voice for their demolition man causes CC-4998, Hawk, to give a small jut of his chin and a twitch of a smile. “The Republic seeks to turn this Temple into a staging ground for Surveillance Operations. Keeping Bullseye standing is top priority; sweep the grounds and wipe out any Separatist forces that may have taken it; preferably all in under a 12 hour window.”

“100 klicks out,” The pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s com systems.

Shutting off the datapad, Mash tossed it to one of the shuttle seats lining the bay wall before grabbing his helmet. The rest of his squad did the same as they all put their helmets on.

“Didn’t really answer the question, Sarg.” Nines uttered while rolling his shoulders, the action causing the armored plates to clunk against one another.

“Skipper said the Jedi were touchy about it, Nines.”

The kid was a bit of a hot shot but his skill with a rifle more than made up for the snarky attitude.

“They give us confidential assignments for a reason. They want this done quickly and quietly without word getting out.”

The sniper tipped his trigger and middle finger around in a salute that would have most likely made their training sergeant fume at the lack of maturity before turning towards Hawk.

“Bit strange they revived us so quickly.” CC-4803, Corporal Razor stepped up next to Mash. “From what Skipper told me- most get a couple months before they’re pulled for assignment again.”

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war.

“Personally I don’t mind - I guess it’s gotta mean we’re doing something right if they keep pulling us for jobs,” Razor added.

Their advisor on Kamino, Skipper, acted as their go-to man during missions. He’d feed them intel on the ground and organize quick and dirty drops and extractions if the need arose.

“Trying not to think about it, ner vod (my brother/comprade).” Mash said, the mando’a slipping through his mouth with ease. It wasn’t something other clones knew… More of a perk from their branch of the GAR. If you were lucky, your training sergeant may have taught you the Mandalorian language. The clone flash training made it stick too, so they were fairly fluent.

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war.

Not long after the Battle of Geonosis, their squad, Echo squad, was formed. It was created in the wake of each of their losses. Mash had lost all his men, his brothers, and so had Razor who had been Sergeant of his own men. Nines and Hawk together lost their Corporal and Sergeant. Higher ups had pushed them all together for a follow up assignment shortly after Geonosis and they had to get to know each other on the ground the hard way.

Since then they’d done a few jobs here and there. They all had the same training sergeant so while there was a small grimmer of familiarity, they were still strangers to each other. It took some getting used to, but things had since smoothed out.

“Sounds like this assignment really is priority. For the Jedi at least. Whatever Jedi was occupying the Temple previously was recalled to Coruscant. It didn’t take long for the Separatists to get word of the outpost’s vacancy it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Razor chuckled beneath his helmet before finishing the tie on his rappelling gear. They’d be dropping into the dense jungle soon. “From what I hear, intelligence still has holes in it. Intel is leaked more often than it isn’t, gotta wonder you know?”

Checking the knot of his rappelling gear a final time, Mash hesitated to respond to Razor’s comment. Razor had always been one for the gossip regarding the Republic’s works. Sometimes that curiosity was useful, but more often than not Mash wished his brother were more discreet.

Word had gotten around, but since the Republic were officially handed control of the army, they’d begun making changes. Their branch of the GAR was getting quite the makeover, however whether the changes were doing more harm than good was still up for debate. Clone Advisors was just one change that had been temporary, but had since stuck around. Certain Clone Officers without fieldwork would act as advisors or middlemen to non-Clone Republic Officers, like the Jedi, still getting a handle on how to efficiently induct the different clones into the conflicts.

It was a surprise to the Clones when the Jedi, the legendary warriors they’d been told of all their lives, didn’t exactly meet textbook expectations.

It wasn’t their place to ponder the Jedi abilities as Military Leaders, but their corner of the GAR was quickly developing opinions, a ship Mash was hesitant to board.

“You implying its a higher ups problem?” Mash asked.

“Not necessarily,” Razor responded. “Just something to think about is all. Although, I know you prefer not to.”

He’d known Razor long before they’d been thrown together in a squad. He’d met him several times on the simulation battlefields during training, and he knew him well enough to detect the humor laced through his voice to understand when he was pulling his leg.

“Stay focused, vod.” Mash muttered, thankful he could hide his own grin as a chuckle from Razor radiated through helmet comms.

“Coming in, we’ll be over the drop zone in 30 seconds.”

The turbulence picked up in the shuttle as they approached their destination and all members of the squad made their way towards the back of the shuttle bay.

Hawk hit the button for the shuttle’s ramp on the wall control panel and soon enough the roar of the ship's engines took over, causing the sound dampeners in their helmets to kick in.

The shuttle trembled as the pilots pulled up on the controls and the ship stalled above an area of jungle which was where their assignment was to begin.

“Go go go,” Mash ushered each of his men out before going himself. One hand on the rappelling line and the other holding his Deece at the ready, Mash kept his eyes on his comrades heading down the 60 or so meter distance passed a layer of fog into the darkness of the Devaronian jungle.

Large vines as thick as the bay of the shuttle covered the planet as far as Mash could see, even through his helmet display. Data on the planet mentioned the unique flora which they would encounter; the vines breached the landscape like borrowing Rishi eels, knotted and intertwined together creating a blanket covering the terrain.

Watching as each of his squad hit the ground, Mash followed as they did in stripping themselves of their rappelling gear as it zipped back up into the shuttle.

Switching comm frequencies, Mash looked up to the hovering shuttle around 100 meters about them.

“We’re clear, pilot.”

“Roger that sir, have fun down there,” The ramp of the shuttle began to close before it headed off.

The jungle had fallen quiet once the ship was out of range, and soon enough, the chirping and rustling of native fauna began to grow in the shuttle’s absence. Looking around the terrain, Mash was quick to notice how the ground under the vine canopy was rather barren aside from sparse foliage in the form of smaller vine systems and shrub-like plants. They were going in under the impression that there would be greater amounts of foliage; it would complicate matters for reconnaissance and stealth-based action going forward.

It was the first bump in the road, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Improvisation; its what they trained for in situations like this.

In a series of blinks, Mash pulled up specs on the surrounding landscape, including humidity levels. They were high enough. Readings indicated it had rained recently.

“Start dirtying up the armor. Foliage won’t provide enough cover so we’ll need to-”

An aggravated grunt caused Mash to turn, finding Nines with his hands braced on his lower back as he craned into a stretch, his Deece in the hands of Hawk.

“They changed this di'kutla (useless/stupid) armor again, didn’t they.” He grunted.

“The Manual outlined the upgrades,” Hawk reminded his brother with a slight tilt of his helmet, only to receive a mild clock on the shoulder plate from Nines as he got his footing back.

“Who the hell has time for that, do I look like I got time for that?”

“Cut the chatter,” The statement came out firm, although the mild distraction of the hostile territory around them softened his words. “This is hostile territory, so let’s shift it,” Mash gestured forward with his Deece.

“Dirty up.” Razor shrugged, emphasizing on the Sergeant’s first order before popping off in one direction to start camouflaging his armor.

Mash watched as Nines lingered on their Corporal walking away before he audibly grumbled, going off in a somewhat similar direction with Hawk.

“I long for the day when I can put this armor to actual use.”

“And how would you go about doing that, Nines?” Hawk asked.

“By using it how it was meant to be used- urban warfare, close quarters… actual fire fights. Not writhing around on a dust ball like Geonosis or making mud angels on this heap.”

The comment caused Hawk to openly laugh, something that if Mash was being honest, wasn’t customary of his younger comprade; however he had to admit it pleased him. He’d always been less of a talker than Nines; more hesitant to accept the new squad; whether it was because of the fate of their old one, or maybe who he had ended up with, Mash wasn’t certain.

“Keep your trash talk on internal comms, Nines.” Razor reiterated the words as if he had done so multiple times already, which he most likely had.

“Trash talk… Kebbur haar haat (try the truth).” Nines grumbled, before throwing a glob of mud onto his thigh plating, coating one leg in the darkly colored mud.

The kid was all talk. As soon as a superior was around he would 180 and they’d be none the wiser.

Another minute passed before the squad’s signature white armor with red and orange accents were covered helmet to boots in Devaronian mud. The humidity would prove troublesome as they’d need to reapply the camouflage again within the hour.

Exchanging a couple of nods with the men, Mash made a final glance exchange with Razor.

“We’re ready,” The Corporal gave him a nod.

“Then let’s move out.”

A couple hours had passed, and the position of Devaron’s two moons had since shifted across the night sky; they could be seen in the distance adjacent to RV point Bullseye’s structure. The thick layer of fog had been ever present since their arrival, and while it didn’t completely inhibit their line of sight, it was keeping them on their toes.

Spotting subtle obstruction on the ground ahead, Mash held up a fist before gesturing for the men to move forward to a position of cover cautiously.

The Sergeant came to a stop at a large vine almost a meter thick. He kept his back to it as Hawk stopped behind him.

“I’ve got eyes on the South road.” Nines came to a stop a few meters to their 3 o’clock, kneeling down on one leg before resting his rifle over a low vine breaching the ground, leaning in to look through the scope.

The Temple had four roads that branched out in each direction, the primary Northern and Southern Roads drew an imaginary line through RV point Bullseye while the secondary Western and Eastern roads connected the courtyards and other smaller facilities to the overall structure.

“It’s called a promenade, not a road.” Razor muttered as he came to a stop beside the sniper, blaster raised and alert as he observed the surrounding area.

“Yeah I know, the HUD said that, but what the hell is the difference- its a road.” Nines grunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hear they’ve updated the HUD’s terminology index on architecture. I can’t think of more vital information to the mission.” The cock of Nines’ helmet only enhanced the sarcasm leaking from his filtered voice as he glanced up at their Corporal. “Looks clear up ahead.”

“No droids?” Mash questioned.

“Doesn’t look like it, Sarg. Zero movement.” Nines responded, gaze back through the scope.

From his crouched position on the ground, Hawk looked up at the Sergeant for a brief moment before glancing towards Razor.

Going in they’d be simultaneously at an advantage and disadvantage. The enemy had the high ground and not to mention the location in question that needed to be retaken, but the squad had the element of surprise.

“Alright. Let’s start moving in. Stay sharp and switch to internal comms,” Mash instructed and with a couple of hand gestures, fleshed out their movements going forward.

Like the vigorously tested training exercises on Kamino, the squad began to move in on the target location quickly and quietly. Using the native flora to their cover advantage, the small group made their way up to the Temple road before branching off to the structure’s right side. They’d stay between the Eastern and Southern roads in order to get as close to RV point Bullseye as possible without leaving the cover that the Devaronian vines provided. Once close enough, they could make their way across the courtyard and to the Temple. From there execution of the mission would change. How, was something Mash didn’t know yet.

Loosely following the road’s edge closer and closer to the Temple which was growing up into the sky the further they traveled, Echo Squad finally came to the wall of the courtyard, an area that surrounded the Temple. The wall was just under two meters; a quick scale.

Stepping up to the wall, Nines lowered his rifle, resting its barrel on the wall before perusing the open and exposed ground ahead.

“No visuals. All quiet.”

“I’m not liking this,” Razor muttered, tilting his body only slightly towards the Sergeant. “Its sloppy. Even for the droids.”

“Maybe we just came at a bad time,” Nines offered, continuing to scope out the area. “Caf break or… battery recharge- quiet time. What’d droids have these days?”

“Let’s give it another minute.” Mash decided, craning to look up towards the main Temple structure which was significantly larger than its sibling tower. “We’ll move in if we don’t get-”

“Wait, I’ve got a visual.”

Mash jerked his head to the right to see where Nines’ scope was aligned, towards the smaller of the two towers. The shutter and chung of metal clanking together in a uniform manner was a sound that had since become familiar to them.

On Kamino they trained against other clone squads, training staff, and simulation targets. The droids which were now being used by the Separatists weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but it was a somewhat impersonal enemy nonetheless. The droids were designed to overwhelm, something that proved effective against the Republic at Geonosis, especially their branch of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Part of the reason missions concerning their branch of the GAR were no longer to overlap with Infantry (unless under special circumstances) was because the Jedi thankfully came to their senses on that account. Their branch lost half of their entire force at Geonosis. Their first battle and their kind were cut in half… It unsettled Mash to the point where he preferred to not think about it, but his head constantly reminded him that those nerves wouldn’t help whether he ignored them or not. The Jedi, while they may not have been what they’d expected, were warriors and leaders nonetheless and they’d been taught all their lives that they’d been created to help the Jedi. Things were seemingly off to a rocky start but they’d level out. It seemed they already were, which Mash was thankfully for. He hadn’t worked directly with a Jedi yet, but when the day came he hoped they’d be up to the task of using him and his men to the best of their ability.

The enemy force finally emerged from around the farthest tower, revealing a squad of eight B1 battle droids. The standard, not a problem. However whatever forces may wait within the Temple or around the perimeter was the standing issue. If they had more time, Mash would have ordered a sweep of the perimeter to be safe. But they didn’t have that luxury. Looks like they’d be doing a hard contact entry, sweeping room to room and floor to floor until the entire structure was clear.

“Well you wanted close quarter combat, ner vod.” Mash finally stated, watching alongside his squad as the droid squad went about their patrol of the Temple grounds. “We’ll eliminate this squad first.”

“Soft entry?” Hawk questioned.

“We’ll have to improvise on that front. Debrief mentioned a security system in the Temple. Nothing the droids can figure out, apparently its more of a force user problem, but with the cams they’ll most likely see us coming. We’ll have to hit quick enough to have the advantage inside.”

“What’d you call that, a medium entry, sir?” Nines chuckled, still zoning in on the droids.

“Call it what you want, Nines.” Mash nodded with minor amusement before giving his rifle one last check just to be safe.

“I’ve got a second droid squad coming in, 2 o’clock off the Eastern road… Looks like it might be a rotation change.”

“Watch em, Nines.”

“Roger that Sarg,”

“Razor?” Mash turned his attention to the Corporal.

They always threw ideas off of each other. While Mash was officially in charge, he preferred to keep the title as loose as possible. Razor used to be Sergeant of his old squad, and was demoted to Corporal when transferred to Echo Squad. While they had differing ways of handling situations, Mash understood the wisdom in getting a second opinion.

An audible sigh came through the Corporal's helmet as Razor looked up at the structure.

“No easy way we’re getting in there without almost immediate detection. Without the use of explosives or detonators-” The nod he gave was decisive, his voice level and collected. “Looks like we gotta do this t-”

The fading of clanking metal from the droids was quickly and suddenly overpowered by the rumble of a familiar sound.

Looking up through the vine canopy, the members of Echo Squad are met with the image of a Republic Nu-class Shuttle swooping in over RV point Bullseye.

“No,” Mash muttered. “No no no- what the hell are they doing!?”

“You get anything over comms? Change of plans?”

“No,” Mash growled through grit teeth before quickly swinging a leg up, getting over the wall before gesturing for the squad to follow.

The uninvited guest had already caught the attention of the two squads of B1s as they all began to open fire on the vessel. The fire would do little against the shuttle’s shields.

As Echo Squad members quickly finish entering the courtyard, the Attack Shuttle’s ramp lowers and four similarly dressed troopers begin rappelling down to the adjacent courtyard.

“I don’t believe this-” Mash snapped before gesturing for the squad to move out and join the fire fight on the other side of the Temple grounds around fifty meters away.

“There go our medium entry plans!” Nines laughed over the growing sound of blaster fire as they ran to join the conflict.

“Not the time, kid!” Mash barked.

As they entered the Eastern courtyard that wrapped around the structure, a couple more droid squads came into view. The other Squad of clones that had arrived were keeping a relatively loose formation as they took out the enemy force, for their kind it looked pretty sloppy; or at least not Echo Squad’s style.

Mash knew his squad was on him, and he didn’t have to remind them to keep it tight. They’d cover the enemy force closer to Bullseye and leave the straggling droids to the newcomers.

B1 Battle Droids had a rather standard targeting system; as they clunked along on a relatively straight path, they’d fire their blasters off in even intervals. They were a fairly easy nuisance to deal with on assignment. When high grades of Separatist droids joined in, and their numbers increased tenfold, that’s when their years of training met their match.

As they made their way across the courtyard and towards danger, Mash got that liquid feeling in his lower body, like his legs would give out and he felt ten times heavier running towards the firefight, he knew that feeling would always disappear as quickly as it appeared. As his training Sergeant would say: It’s your forebrain shutting down; a fear reflex. He wondered if his brothers ever felt the same; that trickle of fear. He didn’t doubt it. You’d have to be a fool not to to some extent.

As soon as their presence was made known, and the droids turned their attention to the second squad of troopers approaching, the weight was lifted from Mash’s body and the noise in his head quieted. Time to get to work.

The sound of blaster bolts firing off rang loudly into the silence of the surrounding jungle. Picking off the droids one by one, Echo Squad drew further out into the courtyard, near where the newly arrived squad was.

The last couple shots came from Hawk as he took down a few straggling droids before the men exchanged a couple of quick glances. The spike of adrenaline that one got during the fight was almost euphoric; relaxing when a brief moment of silence came during the action.

That feeling was cut short when Mash and Razor turned in time to see the Sergeant of the other clone squad about to throw a detonator at another squad of droids approaching from the Eastern road, most likely coming back from another patrol.

“Hey!” Mash barked before running over.

By the time the Echo Squad leader was within fifty yards of the other squad, the small explosive had detonated; dirt, droid parts, and some rubble from the road shot up into the air.

“Haar'chak (Damn it).” Hawk muttered, exchanging a brief look with Nines before going after their Sergeant.

“Are you insane?!”

The shouting caused the members of the other squad to draw their attention back, and eventually the Sergeant turned as well.

“Who the hell are these guys-” The Sergeant muttered, patting the shoulder plate of one of his men before continuing towards Mash. “Can I help point you back in the direction of whatever mud pit you all crawled out of?” The sarcasm was strong in his voice as he looked over Echo Squad. To be fair they were all completely caked in the Devaronian mud.

“Sarg-” Razor tried to subtly stop his brother from getting physical but Mash was already close enough to shove the other Sergeant backwards a couple of steps. “Udesii, vod! (take it easy/calm down, brother!)”

“Under what authority do you think you can just waltz in here an-”

“Authority? Listen here vod,” The armored clone points towards Mash. “I’ve got orders to secure that building back there, so unless you’re here to sit back and run recon while covered in that osik (feces/dung) I suggest you back off and let us take it from here.” The other Sergeant seemed all too eager to start smack talking and it took what was left of Mash’s self control to not get any more physical. Ten years of systematic, precise, orderly training, and as soon as the Republic is given control of the military, everyone seemingly falls off the rails.

“I don’t know what kind of information you’re running on, but our orders came directly from the Jedi Temple that we were to scout this location for enemy activity and retake the building with minimal sustained damage.” Mash made clear. “It is obvious that you did not receive the debrief.”

Taking a step forward, the other Sergeant came within inches of the Echo leader’s helmet with his own.

“What are you implying?”

“Read between the lines.”

“I’m warning you now, vod. Ne shab'rud'niÖ (Don’t mess with me).”

“Bax, come on, vod.”

Razor inched his way between the two Sergeants as the other squad member that had spoken up tried to coax his Sergeant into taking a step backwards.

“Regardless of who should or shouldn't be here- the objective appears to be the same.” Razor made clear, his hand residing on the breastplate of his Sergeant, his other held out towards the other Sergeant who was being held back by who now appeared to be their squad’s Corporal. The tension could've been cut with a vibroblade in that moment.

Razor knew Mash preferred to work alone; at least he preferred their squad working alone. If it was one thing the man hated, it was the liability of variables he couldn’t control - other people potentially ruining his way of doing things. Whether it be Infantry clones, Jedi, or other squads like them, Mash preferred the assignments where it was just their squad, and their squad alone.

“Taking Bullseye is priority.”

“Taking what?” The other Sergeant muttered. His posture had since relaxed but it was clear he was ticked off and eager to get a move on.

“RV point Bullseye.” Mash said. It sounded like he spit the statement out through his teeth.

“...You mean the Tower?” The other Sergeant deadpanned.

Silence followed and Razor exchanged a small glance with the other presumed Corporal.

“I’m Corporal fifty-one-thirty-four… 34.” The Corporal stated, lowering his hand from his Sergeant’s breastplate. It was common to just use the last two numbers. Your name was almost always kept within your squad group, and maybe with your training sergeant unless you were comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t the time to exchange such personal details even if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “This is fifty-seven-eighty-seven and five-two-sixty.” The Corporal, 34, pointed to the other two men part of their squad.

The one identified as 87 appeared to be their tech man, while 60 appeared to be carrying the demolitions ordnance.

34 gave his Sergeant the smallest nudge with his shoulder and the man seemed to begrudgingly think over his options before his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Sergeant five-one-eighteen.” He muttered.

“I’m Corporal four-eight-oh-three,” Razor gestured to himself. “This is forty-nine-ninety-eight and forty-nine-ninety-nine.” Pointing the two out, Razor watched as Nines gave the other squad a jut of his helmet, a sort of nod, and Hawk dipped his helmet down in acknowledgement.

Razor only had to turn a fraction towards Mash for his brother to know he would have to speak up.

“Sergeant four-eight-eleven.” His voice was tight, the remnants of his frustration still hung heavy.

“Now that that’s out of the way, would you all mind moving so we can get to work?” Sergeant 18 gestures somewhat dramatically with his blaster in one hand and a cock of his helmet, swinging the barrel of the blaster with smooth precision to the side.

The silence of the courtyard was growing increasingly harder to ignore, no doubt more droids were on their way from within the Temple walls.

“Sarg-” Corporal 34 started to speak

“We got here first, I suggest you step aside and let us take it from here.”

“I’ve been dragging my men through the mud of that jungle for five hours- We were on the ground working this mission before you dropped in on the front karking door-”

“I don't give a mott's backside if you’ve been stuck here for weeks I-!”

“Sir, I’ve got movement, south entrance,” The statement came from Nines, currently training his rifle on two squads of droids, including some SBDs (super battle droids), exiting the main doors of the Temple.

Both Sergeants having turned to see the incoming hostiles seemed to quickly come to the realization that neither of them were getting what they wanted.

Sergeant 18 shot his Corporal a look before cursing under his breath and 34 nodded before he turned more so to face Echo Squad.

“Your call. You were here first.”

Mash clenched his jaw from under his helmet. He didn’t need this but… He couldn’t have it completely his way.

“Can you manage taking the East Tower without blowing it up?” Mash questioned.

The reluctance was evident in Sergeant 18’s movement as he turned towards Mash and finally nodded.

“...We’ll clear it.”

Exchanging a glance with Razor, Mash returned the nod to the other Sergeant.

“We’ll take the main structure; meet up in the communications center after the Temple has been cleared. If you need to, use comm frequency 0374.”

“Roger that,” Sergeant 18 quickly signals to his men and they take off hastily towards the oncoming droids.

With a shake of his head, Mash turned and watched for a brief moment as the squad of newcomers ran off and began blasting away at the droid force.

Nines watched their Sergeant for a moment before exchanging a glance with Hawk before clearing his throat.

“We uh- clear to move in, sir? I’d rather not let them have all the fun.”

Breathing out through his nose, the Echo Squad Sergeant gave his brother a nod before gesturing for them to get moving.

“Keep it tight.”

“You say that like we’re gonna run off, Sarg.” Hawk chuckled, falling into a loose formation at Nines’ side with Mash and Razor behind them.

“Just don’t follow in that crack squad’s shoes, please.”

“Looks like their Sergeant is just a little…” Razor trails off, swallowing the breathy laugh he almost let loose.

“Dini'la? (insane?)” Nines tried.

He managed to earn a few chuckles with the comment.

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand, vod.” Mash responded, voice a little more at ease. Razor had a tendency to keep the atmosphere as light as he was able, especially in instances like this when tension was high. Nines had his own way of trying to do the same, which usually consisted of poking fun at someone or something. “Same rules apply; no explosives. This building needs to be standing by the time we clear it.”

“Copy that, Sarg.” The humor was laced through Hawk’s voice.

He was the most mellow one of the squad. Mash didn’t really consider himself to have a great sense of humor, but somewhere along the line, Mash subconsciously decided to always play with Hawk and pretend like he was the trigger “explosive” happy one of the bunch. Hawk played along with it.

“I call entry,” Nines called out, causing Razor to chuckle before moving up closer to the younger clone to cover his six.

Despite their mismatched squad, formulated as a result of the losses they’d each received, they were quickly becoming a working unit. If it was one thing Mash knew they all took away from their training, it was the constant snippets of advice and encouragement they’d received from their training sergeant. Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc (The squad is your weapon). Remember that; you are nothing on your own, and everything together.

“I’ve got movement in the dining hall,” Nines muttered over comms. They were using their internal comm frequency so the droids wouldn’t overhear anything. The other squad hadn’t initiated contact with them on the channel yet, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise.

“Tion'solet? (how many?)” Hawk spoke up.

“I said I’ve got movement not a five course meal worth of information ready for you,” Nines shot back.

Hawk just shook his head at his brother’s humor.

Leaning around the corner, Nines’ HUD marked the number of droids in the room within a beat and he quickly retreated around the corner where the squad was.

“Twelve including a B1 Sergeant and five SBDs. We can use the EMPs right?” Nines questioned quietly to Mash, despite knowing they were on internal comms.

Electromagnetic Pulse Grenades… Debrief didn’t specifically outline that they couldn’t use them.

Mash audibly sighed before lowering his rifle a fraction.

“This is the dining hall. If we end up stuck here a couple days I’d rather raid the pantry than eat ration bars.”

“That’s your argument for not going in with blasters?” Razor questioned, cocking his helmet to the side.

“.... Yes.”

“Just this one room.” Mash grunted while shaking his head. “We need to hold onto that ordnance.”

Giving a jut of his helmet, Nines lifted a hand towards Hawk who had the EMP grenades on hand.

Tossing one to his brother, Nines made his way around the corner and activated the grenade before rolling it into the large room.

A few beats passed before the shuffling and clunking of the metal droids moving about became prominent.

“What’s that?” The high pitched, animatronic voice was becoming reluctantly familiar before the grenade went off, cutting off any chatter from the hostiles.

Echo Squad swarmed into the space with deadly precision, shooting down the few remaining droids that were outside the EMPs blast radius before covering the bases of the room.

“Clear!”

“Clear,”

The room was relatively small for a dining facility. Then again, the debrief did reveal this Temple was rarely occupied by more than a few Jedi at a time.

“What’s left?” Hawk looked towards the Corporal.

“Just Communications; top floor.” Razor turned towards Mash who nodded in agreement.

“While I’m not complaining, the fact that the crack squad hasn’t made contact is a little unsettling,” Nines spoke up once more, taking a seat on one of the tables, slinging his rifle over his lap.

“Nines-” Mash muttered, waving a hand towards the younger clone. “You're covered in filth, try not to get it all over everything.”

“This building is still under Separatist control last time I checked. I think they’ve got bigger problems then my dirty shebs (backside/rear/“ass”) sitting on their dining tables. Just saying.” Nines shrugged, catching the way Razor quickly looked down and breathed out sharply.

“Don’t encourage him.” Mash didn’t skip a beat in lightly scolding Razor’s reaction to Nines’ humor.

Wearing full armor and helmets did inhibit one’s ability to read some body language, but they all grew up learning how to read it. He wasn’t completely there yet, but Mash was beginning to pick up on the little details that clued him into each new brother of his. He could almost identify each of them by their breathing in combat. Nines was the easiest to pick out because he always breathed in such an even and controlled manner; a sign of a sniper; the slightest inhale or exhale could mean the hit or miss of a shot. Hawk and Razor were a little harder to tell apart but Mash was getting there.

“Let’s head up to the top floor.” Mash gestured out of the room with his Deece. “Keep it tight.”

B1 Battle Droids littered the hallway farther down where they had come from. Every floor and room below them had been cleared. All that remained of the main structure was the top floor, the communications center. Whether the other squad had cleared the East Tower was a question Mash hated leaving up in the air. More droids could pour into the lower levels that they had already cleared if the squad didn’t hold up their end.

Making their way to the end of the hall, they came to an open spiral staircase heading up. Sure there was also a lift, but they didn’t know what they were walking into. The stairs would allow them to survey the situation better.

It didn’t take long for the squad to make their way up to the top level and to a small hall that led to the opening of the communications center. No doors. They’d just have to move in relatively quickly to get the jump.

Mash followed behind Nines on the left side of the hallway as Hawk and Razor did the same on the right side of the hall.

“Tactical Droid 12 o’clock.” Hawk said.

“I got it,” Nines had already raised his Deece.

“Pare (wait),” Mash held a hand out, Deece still trained forward, held by another hand despite the pressure it put on his wrist. “Keep it intact, if we get the jump we might be able to salvage information out of it.”

“...Fine.” Nines uttered but kept his rifle in position.

Evaluating the room for a moment, Mash’s HUD marked the hostiles in a moment. Fourteen, a mix of B1s and SBDs not including the Tactical Droid.

“Razor?” Mash questioned.

“Hawk and I got the right side, you guys take left?”

“Copy.” Gesturing forward with his pointed middle and forefinger Mash quickly grasped his Deece as they moved in.

Nines headed into the room quicker than the others, shooting down several of the droids before making a run for the Tactical droid before it could register the situation playing out.

Mash shot down what droids remained around Nines, dodging a couple of blaster bolts that came close to his body.

Razor and Hawk went about taking down droids on the other side of the room, conscious of the blaster charge they were using as they took the droids down as quickly and efficiently as possible; a head shot or correctly positioned body shot; nothing else would do.

Mash had barely caught Nines finishing off the Tactical droid as he finished ripping the droid’s head from its body before standing up with a laugh, tossing it in his hands twice before looking the intact head over.

“Vod, gaanaylir (brother, catch).” Nines tossed the droid head towards Hawk who fumbled for a moment, only one hand free as the other grasped his Deece. The droid part clattered against his armor before he secured it properly in his grasp. Hawk then handed the droid head to Razor without much thought and Echo Squad’s slicer made his way towards the command console a couple meters away.

“Nines, door.” Mash said.

“Copy that.”

Heading to the front of the room where computer stations lined the walls, Mash lightly ran his fingers over the controls of one of the stations before stepping once to the side to where the security cam screens were. Cycling through them briefly, it took Mash a while to finally find a cam that showed the other squad. By the looks they were making their way towards the communications center and they looked calm enough so they must’ve held up their end.

“Anything, Sarg?” Hawk asked.

“No droid activity. That squad’s on there way it looks like. Hawk-” Mash got the attention of his comrade and gestured to the console in front of him with a nod.

Hawk nodded and approached him.

“Refresh security systems and realign motion sensors in the building.”

“Sir,” Hawk gave a nod before getting to work.

“So what’s the plan now?” Nines looked over his shoulder back into the room towards his brothers.

Mash exchanged a glance with Razor who was standing over the command console; the hub for long range communication.

“I’ll start securing a line to Kamino,” Razor decided. “Enlighten Skipper on our progress.” He turned away and got to work on the console.

Mash’s eyes dotted over the console where Razor began working before his eyeline fell to the floor and followed the path of destruction towards the door where Nines was. From there his eyes found several moving figures coming down the hall, the other squad. Great.

“Well well,” Sergeant 18 began, the eyeline of his helmet shifting around the room for a moment before settling on Mash. “Su cuy’gar (you’re still alive).”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Mash muttered before gesturing them over.

“The East Tower is clear.” The Sergeant continued to look around the room for a brief time before his gaze landed on Mash once more, giving the littlest dip of his head. Mash was quick to reciprocate the gesture in gratitude.

“Looks like the droids were tampering with the transmitter,” Razor called over. “It’s gonna take some time to get to working.”

“Alright.” Mash’s eyes had quickly found the squad of men who had since entered the room once more. They were so familiar to him and his brothers yet so incredibly different it almost made his blood boil with just how different they were - how different they approached the mission. “In the meantime we need to secure the greater perimeter.”

“You know how long that’ll take?” The Sergeant reprimanded.

“It needs to be done,” Mash countered before turning towards Nines. Hesitating in his words for a moment, Mash evaluated the men he had present in the room.

“Let’s send three men, including a Corporal.” Mash wasted little time in subtly waving Nines over.

“If you’ve all got a slicer who can take over this, I’ll take a few men out.” Razor called over, now lying on his back with his head inside a compartment under the command console, helmet on the ground next to his legs. One of the other squad’s men, 87, had since traveled over to where Razor was. After a moment he looked up from where he was knelt down near Razor.

“I can handle this, sir, if you wanna send someone out with them.” His voice was just a hair higher in pitch and the detail, as small as it was, already told Mash that the clone was younger to some degree; maybe closer in age to Hawk and Nines.

Sergeant 18 turned towards Mash for a brief time before turning towards the two of his men still at his side. He nodded to one of them and he stepped forward.

“Alright 11… We’ll play it your way. 60 will go with’em on the scouting,” He nods to the comprade that had since stepped up.

Clenching his jaw for a brief time, Mash reluctantly thought over his next move before carefully removing his helmet. Positioning it under his arm, he relaxed his jaw before holding out a hand to the Sergeant.

The soldier was still but the slight movement of his helmet indicated he saw the outstretched hand.

“Echo Squad. They call me Mash.” It was a longshot. But it might make things easier going forward if they stepped past the formalities of numbers for names.

The Sergeant was unusually still for his seemingly gung ho attitude prior; but the man finally looked down at the hand after an uncomfortable beat of silence before raising his hands to his helmet. Removing the piece of armor, he went to tuck the helmet under his arm before returning the gesture.

Mash met the same set of eyes. “Trauma Squad... Baxter.” His hair was relatively unkempt, but part of that might have been due to helmet hair. It was not the standard military cut all clones were required to maintain on Kamino; it appeared as if he’d let it grow out a bit, his bangs were just teasing his brow.

Mash shook his hand once before they each pulled away from the gesture.

Looking to his left, Mash met Razor’s eyes as his brother walked over.

“This is our Corporal’n slicer.” Mash nodded towards him.

“Razor.” He responds.

“That’s ours.” Baxter nods to his right to the clone next to him.

“Ram, Corporal and sniper” The Corporal previously known as 34 chimed in with a dip of his helmet.

Mash gave a small nod in response to the clone.

“Nines, sniper.” Nines took the opportunity of silence to speak up.

“Hawk, demo.” Hawk waved a loose hand while continuing to fool around with the security system console on the other side of the room.

The man behind Baxter adjusted his stance before clearing his throat. “Char, demo.”

Mash gave the man a small nod of acknowledgement before he met the eyes of the Trauma Squad sergeant.

Baxter turned and gestured towards the last man who hadn’t been named, currently with his head inside the command console where Razor had previously been.

“The kid over there’s Jack; our slicer.”

“Razor, you alright taking Nines and Char on a perimeter sweep?”

“Just the courtyard or do we wanna start covering this in sectors?” Razor inquired, looking between the two Sergeants.

Mash glanced at Baxter momentarily and the Trauma Squad Sergeant did the same.

“I don’t think we need to start heading off into the jungle just yet,” Baxter’s voice was controlled and somewhat reluctant.

“Maybe just walk the perimeter outside of the courtyard for now. Take an hour and sweep it; check each road for damage or foot traffic and call in if you see any signs of more droid patrols.” Mash continued to eye Baxter as he spoke.

“Alright,” Razor nodded before briefly meeting the eyes of Nines and then the one identified as Char, giving them a small nod to move out.

Mash firmly gripped Razor’s shoulder plating as his brother went to walk by before leaving with the two soldiers in tow.

“How’s it coming, Jack?”

“Corporal Razor mentioned the power cell might’ve been tampered with.” Jack strained to look out from the small space he had his head in, hands up under the console inside the cylinder structure.

“Well if that’s the case then we can’t get any messages out at the moment. Not even to a nearby fleet.” Baxter muttered, kneeling down next to his comrade. “May not be the time,” Baxter raised his voice enough to catch Mash’s attention. “But what exactly did your mission debrief necessitate… In detail?”

Mash watched the Sergeant for a moment and remained silent until he got to his feet to face him fully.

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Mash was calm in his statement but still firm. This could get ugly again and Razor wasn’t there to mediate. Not that he needed it… But when it came to this Sergeant, he found his fuse seemingly much shorter than normal.

“Not sure if we’re there yet.” Baxter repeats with a nod, a hand coming to the back of his head before he ran his fingers through his hair quickly. “Y’know if I didn’t know better I’d say-”

“Go on,” Mash cut him off slightly.

Baxter almost smiled before glancing around the room for a brief time. While his expression said amusement, his eyes held a certain reluctance similar to Mash’s.

“... Let’s just contact Kamino and get this mess sorted.”

“Good answer.” Mash gave a nod and crossed his arms; as well as he could in the armor at least while watching the Sergeant walk over to his man at the command console.

Shaking his head, Mash headed over to Hawk.

“Any luck?” Mash braced a hand on the station Hawk was sitting at and let his eyes graze over some of the cam screens.

“Systems should be finished with the reboot soon.” Hawk nods. “I’ve got no trips on the sensors aside from us so… I think we’re clear for now.”

Mash lifted his gaze and looked out one of the transparisteel viewports of the Tower, eyes picking up on the large vines that coated the planet surface.

“For now.”

The jungle just surrounding the Temple held an eerie silence. One that hadn’t been present when Echo Squad was on their approach from RV point Axe. The firefight had since quieted any fauna in the vicinity of the Towers.

Making their way across the courtyard and towards the East road, Nines kicked a few crippled B1s out of his path as they walked. While the sniper was content to keep his eyes forward and on the task at hand, his eyes eventually traveled over to the Trauma Squad member with them; Char.

Nines let himself look the clone up and down for a beat. He walked different; fought different; no doubt probably did everything a little different too. While your average civvy probably couldn’t comprehend that fact, for a clone, it was just part of the job - part of the job that the Kaminoans never taught them. It was something they just learned early in their lives, despite being manufactured to be the same, there was always that little bit of human that the longnecks could never fully scrub out. Nines figured every training sergeant probably instilled some sort of mindset that reinforced their tendency to individualize themselves; he’d heard rumors about other trainers.

The Trauma Squad member, like the rest of his squad, had green-like color accents on his white armor. While there was no way in hell that the other squad could tell due to the mud they were still covered in, Echo Squad’s color was red; their armor was accented in the red to orange colors.

Nines’ eyes caught the couple of stairs ahead that went down a foot before smoothing out into the road heading into the Jungle; the place where one of Trauma Squad had thrown a grenade was prominent in the blasted off pieces of stair that littered the vicinity.

“You’re demo right?” Nines gestured down to the rubble with the barrel of his Deece. “This you?” He laughed.

The Trauma Squad member came to a stop and slowly looked towards Nines, taking a beat to process the question.

“Was the Sarg,” Char finally responded. He had a somewhat deeper voice, more so than Mash or Baxter too.

“Guy’s not one for the rulebook is he?” Nines raised an eyebrow from under his helmet before maneuvering down what intact stairs were left.

“Least he didn’t have us rolling in osik,” The man chuckled and Nines felt annoyance prickle his skin.

“First off its mud. We were running recon and needed to take precautions. Second, we were following a strict outline from the Jedi… They wanted the location taken quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene; I imagine they didn’t want their meditation-force-Temple lookin like a battleground when we were done.” He gestures back to the blown up set of stairs that were getting further away as they continued down the road, checking for any droid activity.

“...Smells like osik.” Char stated.

Nines clenched his jaw and caught the way Razor gave him the littlest shake of his helmet.

Don’t.

Nines let silence fall, although it took every ounce of self control he had left not to start picking this guy apart. It was in his nature to just… Wind people up. This guy was winding him up and was looking like he wasn’t even giving it his full attention.

Glancing down at himself for the briefest second he caught the sight of the thick layer of mud still caked to his armor… It did smell terrible.... But it was mud…. Hopefully.

The soldiers continued down the quiet path that led deeper into the jungle until they reached the end of the architectural road that ended at some stairs and a small dirt path, not even a road, that continued into the wilderness.

“Well that was eventful.” Nines muttered before turning to head back in the other direction.

They still had the north and south roads to walk. They’d already swept the west road now opposite their position. “Remind me again why they needed us for this job. This is infantry level work.”

“Says the talking osik pile.” Char surmised, following the sniper with his gaze as he went to leave.

“Wayii- copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? (Good grief- are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?)” Nines had whipped around, coming relatively face to face or- helmet to helmet with the Trauma Squad member.

“Alright, easy you two!” Razor interrupted the two, putting a hand on each of their shoulders before pushing them apart. “Same team.”

Char glanced towards Razor for a brief time before bowing his head in a small nod. Turning towards Nines he eyed the sniper for a brief time before stepping past him to continue their patrol back to the Temple.

Nines muttered once more under his breath before meeting the gaze of the Corporal.

“You may know how to wind people up, but you make it relatively easy for others to do the same to you, vod.” Razor chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder plating.

Nines rolled his eyes before walking alongside his older brother back down the road to continue their sweep.

“How about- now?” Jack grunted, half of his armored body cramped into the small compartment under the command console.

“Nothing,” Baxter responded, staring at the dark holotable.

Mash watched the two quietly while his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression as blank as possible before he exchanged the smallest glance with Hawk and Ram who was standing a meter or two from them.

A string of curses in Mando’a left the clone before the clattering of metal parts followed. The holotable flickered to life moments later.

“Wait that did it,” Baxter held a hand down to the opening where Jack was.

“You serious? The power cell isn’t even in place I’m holding it-”

“Just don’t move.” Baxter cut him off before going about the controls.

Mash took a couple of steps forward and began putting in a secure channel code.

“I’ll contact our advisor,” Mash explained, fingers working quickly along the bottoms of the console.

Baxter seemed to stall in his movements as the Echo Squad Sergeant stepped up and he retracted his hands from the console. “You do that,” The Trauma Squad Sergeant moved back slowly before crossing his own arms.

Mash slowed his actions as he processed the dramatic response from the soldier before resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Finishing the code, Mash activated the transmitter and stood up straight, watching as the holotable, now illuminated, hummed to life.

It seemed much longer, but a few seconds later a hologramic figure emerged from the table and Mash was quick to recognize him.

“Sergeant, how is your assignment going?” Skipper questioned, hands loosely on his armor belt.

It was a relief to see their Clone Advisor, but Mash found the words leaving his mouth to be far from that thought that grazed his mind.

“Temple’s been retaken, but sir, would you mind explaining to me what the hell high command is playing at?” Mash leaned forward on the console, hands on either side of the controls.

“...Excuse me, Sergeant?” Mash rarely ever talked to a superior with such an aggressive tone.

“Let me,” Baxter less than gently shoved Mash out of the way before taking his spot in front of the hologram. “What he means to ask is what high command’s been doing with their thumbs up their shebs while we trip over our own feet down here trying to recapture a Jedi timeshare.”

“Wayii.” Mash roughly rubbed a hand over his shaved head before cursing. “Show a little decorum,” Mash seethed.

“Me show decorum?” Baxter turned towards the Echo Squad leader, a hand to his armored chest.

“Alright, settle down!” Skipper almost had to yell to get the attention of the two Sergeants before they both finally directed their attention to him. “Mash, what’s the state of the Temple? Enemy activity?”

“We’ve secured the position, sir.” Mash said. “We eliminated a small Separatist force holding the location; wasn’t nearly enough to hold it indefinitely; most likely just a temporary force to hold the grounds.”

“They may send reinforcements then. Be on guard.” Skipper warned.

Mash gave a nod before glancing around at the others temporarily. “When will the Jedi be arriving?”

His question was followed by silence, and Baxter was the first to react as he adjusted his stance and took a step forward.

“Well?”

“...The Jedi don’t have a replacement lined up yet.” Not only did his reluctance to respond clue them in, but the hesitation in his voice as well.

“Excuse me?” Baxter slowly blinked in response, posture twitching.

“Meaning?” Mash questioned.

“Meaning,” Skippered sighed lightly. “You all aren’t going anywhere until they send a Jedi.”

Baxter, being the first to react again, kicked the command console, causing the hologram to flicker.

“Hey!” Jack called from under the console.

“You gotta be-” A string of curses in mando’a followed Baxter’s proclamation as he took a couple steps away from the console.

“Take it easy,” Mash put a hand up.

Returning to the console, Baxter rests both hands on the rim.

“I need to talk to our advisor. He’ll get us out of here.” Baxter made clear.

“Sergeant, your advisor has been pulled for an assignment, so Trauma is officially under my jurisdiction until he returns.”

The man was fuming, but he remained quiet, much to Mash’s surprise.

“You both are to hold the location and report back any Separatist activity or attempts to retake the Temple. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” Skipper eased, holding out a hand as he spoke. “The Temple has a storage facility with foodstuffs and rations to keep you comfortable if you all are stuck longer than your dry ration packs will allow.”

“We better not be,” Baxter grumbled under his breath, glancing towards Ram.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sir.” Mash reassured the Advisor. “We’ll keep the Temple secure.”

“I’ll contact you when I have word on the Jedi.” Skipper gives them a final nod before the hologram disappears and it falls quiet.

“...Can I get up now?” Jack grunted, a foot kicking slightly as the man was still on his back halfway under the console.

“Alright,” Mash mumbles quietly, meeting Hawk’s eyes before glancing towards Baxter as the man had since began pacing around slowly. “Well-”

“Jetiise (Jedi; plural),” Baxter uttered under his breath before shaking his head.

“Hey,” Mash’s tone lowered in a warning manner. The man seemed quick to want to bash on any of the higher ups.

“It’ll only be for a few days.” Ram spoke up, meeting Mash’s gaze for a brief moment before looking towards his Sergeant.

Walking over to the computer stations lining the far wall, Mash stepped past Baxter to grab his helmet and put it on.

A couple careful blinks later, he activated their secure comm channel.

“Razor? How’s the patrol going?” Mash spoke up, eyeline shifting to the left as Jack crawled out from under the commander console and put a hand through his hair with a mumble.

The comms crackled briefly before he got a response.

“All qui… out here, Mash. No sign u-... oid traffic around the T… ple yet. We’re almost done ch... south road th… be heading back.”

“Transmission was fuzzy but I understand. Let me know if anything changes,” Mash responded.

“Yes sir. Any news?”

Mash clenched his jaw and thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.

“Long story short- we’re stuck here together until the Jedi can send someone. Could be a few days.”

“Did he j… ays!?”

That was Nines alright.

“I see,” Razor responded. “Brief us when w…. back.”

“Will do,” Mash finished the transmission before taking his helmet off with a sigh.

“Just great.” Nines growled under his breath, his grasp on his Deece tightening and loosening as he fidgeted. “Stuck with crack squad for-”

“Who’re you calling a crack squad, mate?” Char cut him off. “We’re not the squad looking like they just crawled out of a swamp.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure they find your body at the bottom a swamp, mate.” Nines barked back, having turned on his heel to stop Char in his tracks.

“Gev! Take it down!” Razor ordered, shouldering Nines to get his younger comrade to back off. “Both of you,” Razor turned a look on Char before gesturing them both forward. “Squabbling like Infantry cadets for galaxy’s sake-” He cursed before walking ahead of both of them.

Nines begrudgingly followed, but not before exchanging a small glance with Char before they began heading back to the Temple.

The walk back was quiet and by the time they’d gotten up to the communications center, the atmosphere had leveled out.

“The perimeter is clear.” Razor announced, removing his helmet as he entered the communications room.

Mash turned and met the eyes of his Corporal with a nod.

“Seppies won’t stay quiet for long,” Baxter chimed in, leaning against the command console with his armed crossed, expression almost belligerent as he looked back down at the ground with a scowl. “They’ll send reinforcements and soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Mash agreed, hands resting on his armor belt. “First things first, we need to start organizing patrols; keep an eye on local air traffic an-”

“Who- put you in charge exactly?” Baxter questioned, his expression revealing genuine confusion but also fatigue.

Mash clenched his jaw and breathed out quietly through his nose before shooting Razor the smallest look.

“It’ll only be a couple days, I’m sure we can balance leadership.” Ram proposed, sitting at one of the chairs at the computer stations at the opposite side of the room.

Baxter’s body jolted as if he was trying to prevent a scoff before he nodded.

“Better only be a couple days.”

ONE WEEK LATER…

Nines clenched his jaw, staring down towards his hands before his gaze lifted and he met Char’s eyes. The Trauma Squad member stared back at him, expression hardly set but relatively at ease despite the fact.

Tapping his finger lightly, Nines swallowed before he finally nodded.

“I’ll raise you three Nuna jerky strips.” Nines finally stated before tossing the packaged meat into the center of the table.

“I’ll match that, vod.” Char nodded before grabbing some packaged jerky strips from the backpack next to his feet, tossing them into their pot where other small foods and rations resided.

From the other side of the communications center, Ram watched the two playing cards with a tightly knit brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ram finally muttered, giving a shake of his head.

“What?” Razor questioned while chewing on a ration stick, eyes on the SOP manual up on the datapad balanced on his propped up leg.

“They’ll be at each other's throats night and day- but as soon as the Sabacc cards come out they turn more civil than jetiise.”

Razor let a hard breath out through his nose in amusement before shrugging lightly, using a knuckle to scroll down on the datapad.

Those two were always going at each other, but over the past several days they’d each discovered their love of the card game, Sabacc. They’d started developing an awkward love/hate relationship with the game at the center.

“As long as they’re quiet,”

The week had passed by slowly. Razor and Ram were getting along alright during the time, however Mash and Baxter were still at opposite ends of a spectrum. They butted heads but a brotherly atmosphere was starting to settle in.

Turning in his chair, Ram faces the computer station and quickly goes about cycling through the comm channels, listening for any chatter that might clue them into a hostile force. Alongside that chore was looking for any Separatist activity on the air traffic scanners. So far they’d had nothing all week.

The beeping of one of the air traffic scanners causes both Ram and Razor to look up from their distractions. Ram is the first to swing around in his chair and lean over to the neighboring computer station.

Razor got up from his chair and walked over.

“Got something?” He questioned.

Ram evaluated the reading before narrowing the scanner range.

“I’ve got a ship entering the atmosphere, around 50 klicks out.” Ram responded, brow knit as he watched the screen on the station plot a hypothetical course for the ship that was approaching. “Computer's plotting its course; it looks like they’re heading for us.” Ram muttered before getting to his feet. Cycling through the channels for a moment, Ram found the only other active one and pressed one of the buttons on the panel to unmute the transmission.

“Incoming ship, you are entering restricted Republic Military airspace,”

Razor eyed the image on the screen that estimated the ship’s trajectory as Ram continued to recite one of the standard messages from the SOPs manual.

“Do you copy?” Ram waited but only static came through on the comms.

“I repeat, incoming ship, you have entered restricted Republic Military airspace-”

“They’re coming in way too fast.” Razor muttered, eyeing the readings on the computer screen built into the station. “Reads are coming through… Ships heavily damaged.”

“Specs?” Ram inquired.

“Hull integrity is at critical levels, heat spikes all over the ship, scanner’s reading engine failure. That ship’s not being piloted, it’s going down.”

“What’s the estimated crash path?” Ram asked, finger hovering over the comm button, allowing the static to come through.

Going about the controls on the station, Razor expanded the aerial map of the surrounding area and the computer AI marked an estimated crash zone.

At seeing the area, Razor leaned in further, brow knitting tightly.

“Something wrong?” Ram questions.

“That’s just near RV point Axe… Aren’t they patrolling that area?” Razor questioned, turning to the fellow Corporal.

At processing his comrade’s words, Ram quickly abandoned the comm frequency he was using to contact the unknown ship and set the frequency to their squad comm channel.

“Sergeants we’ve got a ship coming in with a projected crash zone in your area… Baxter? Sergeant Mash?”

Razor watched the fellow soldier quietly before glancing to the side seeing Nines and Char had since approached, similarly reflected expressions of concern.

“Haar'chak, I can’t get anything through,” Ram swore before shaking his head; meeting Razor’s eyes. “Wanna head out?”

In the past few days, they’d discovered how communications were difficult on the planet. If a party was out in the jungle, comms were always very sensitive. They knew it would complicate matters if the Separatists organized an attempt to retake the Temple.

“... Yeah, let’s go.” Razor agreed before quickly going to grab his helmet. “You two hold down here,” Razor looked to both Nines and Char.

“Let us know if you need any help.” Nines nodded before shrugging. “... Well I guess you won’t be able to so-... If it looks bad from here we’ll- consider coming to help.”

“Good to know,” Ram smirked before throwing his helmet on.

Nodding to the other Corporal, they both began running for the hall.

There had been a short rain shower earlier in the morning. The ground was soft and their armored boots sunk into the soil as they treaded through the jungle.

Baxter was walking a few yards ahead with Jack at his side, and Mash followed closely behind with Hawk.

The Trauma squad members were chatting lightly amongst themselves and Mash and Hawk chatted on and off.

They had fallen into a relatively simple routine over the past few days. They’d hit bumps now and again, but everyone usually did their best to stay out of each other’s way.

The ease of the atmosphere around them came to a screeching halt however, when the crackling of sticks sounds off to their 9 o’clock.

Baxter is the first to ready his rifle before anyone else had time to process the sound disruption. They may not have been a squad, but they knew how to make it work, and everyone worked off of each other in accordance with the developments around them.

All of them trained on an assortment of foliage several meters away, more rustling follows before small chirp-like noises emit from the bushes.

It was a familiar sound. One of the native fauna from the planet, a small reptilian species. However the familiarity didn’t stop Baxter from watching the position from which the sound radiated with a raised weapon.

Jack had his weapon raised hesitantly as well, although Sergeant Mash’s lack of reaction caused him to second guess his own. They hadn’t seen any action in weeks. It was obvious Sergeant Baxter was getting an itchy trigger finger to shoot something.

“S’nothing, brother.” Mash mumbled, rifle loosely held in front of him.

Baxter rolled his eyes from under his helmet and muttered under his breath before continuing on their patrol.

“Jedi are wasting Special Forces; as if Geonosis wasn’t enough of a wake up call for em,” Baxter said, his pace picking up.

Mash tries not to roll his shoulders in an effort to ease the prickle of uneasiness he got from Baxter’s comment. How had this clone survived this long without getting himself terminated.

“C’mon, vod,” Mash mumbled, knowing Baxter would understand his comment.

In training, they were taught that Jedi leadership was invaluable. However at the Battle of Geonosis, the clone army was in for a somewhat rude awakening at just how unprepared the Jedi seemed to be in leading the army. Special Forces lost half of their numbers, and strategically, the Battle was a mess. Many clones came out of their first battle confused, even angered, but still unwaveringly loyal to the Jedi… well most of them did. Baxter made Mash rethink that part.

“Maybe the next assignment will have us mopping floors in the Jedi Temple, who knows you gotta remain optimistic.” Baxter called over his shoulder.

Mash just shook his head and exchanged a small glance with Hawk.

Crackling over the comms caused Mash to slow his pace, a hand raising subconsciously towards his helmet.

“Razor? That you?” Mash spoke up.

“We-.... ip comi… cra… yo-...”

“Damn it,” Mash muttered before using his knuckles to knock the side of his helmet a couple of times. “Are you getting anything clear Baxter?”

“No,” The Trauma Sergeant grumbled, eyeline on the ground as he tried to listen to the gargled transmission. “Come on boys, spit it out.”

“Repe… shi… proj… crash…”

Mash shook his head lightly as he tried to listen only to start hearing a roar of a ship in the background of the transmission.

“...You hear that?” Mash turned towards Hawk who nodded.

“Hey Max,” Baxter suddenly spoke up.

The Sergeant’s expression fell from under his helmet. “It’s Mash,” He grumbled before turning around to look at the Sergeant.

He was looking up through the vine canopy.

Mash’s brow knit in response to seeing the Sergeant before he followed the man’s eyeline to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.

“Uh… That doesn’t look good.” Jack stated, also finding the ship that was hurtling down towards them in a ball of fire.

“GO GO GO!” Mash yelled, waving the men off. They began running towards the ship and managed to avoid most of the debris coming off of the craft as it crashed through the vine canopy and barreled into the mud around forty yards away.

Half of the men had dived for cover from broken pieces of the ship that had rained down.

“Everyone alright?” Mash called out, the question leaving his mouth before he could register his own state.

“Fine here sir,”

“All good.”

Mash quickly got to his feet, seeing Baxter had already done the same.

“Not what I was expecting when I hoped for some action but I won’t complain,” The Trauma Sergeant didn’t waste any time, and Mash wasn’t going to slow him down as they quickly began making their way towards the wreckage. “Wanna bet they were trying to warn us?” Baxter laughed, referring to the rest of their group at the Temple.

Mash nodded to the side in agreement, feeling Hawk come up on his right as they followed the canyoned trail the ship had left in its wake.

It was a fairly large craft, a freighter by the look of what was left.

A small explosion off of one of the dislodged engines causes the team to jump back a step.

Baxter suddenly patted Mash had on the back before going closer to the wreck.

“We’ll cover the cockpit area,” He practically threw the comment over his shoulder before jogging off with Jack close behind him.

“But- I- Erm,” Mash shook his head and quieted his objection before it could pass through his lips.

“Let’s cover the back of the ship,” Mash responded, looking towards his comrade. “Looks like the ship’s main structure is still relatively intact. We might be able to enter through the cargo bay.”

Hawk acknowledged his Sergeant with a nod before going to follow the clone. Both keep a close eye on the wreckage as they approach. Parts of the hull were missing, revealing little hints of darkness within the craft. There could still be lifeforms on board.

Hawk let his eyes run along the side of the crashed ship as they made their way closer. Most of the ship wasn’t ablaze, the engines had been, but they’d broken off the main craft when it struck the ground.

Giving the side of the ship another once over, Hawk cleared his throat. “My HUD isn’t recognizing this freighter, sir.”

“It isn’t Republic, keep your eyes open.” Mash responded, rifle raised.

They get to the back of the ship and the ramp is dislodged from the freighter. Giving the dark opening a quick once over, Mash nodded to Hawk and they began making their way inside.

Cargo boxes and cages of supplies littered the space. Despite the wreckage everywhere, Mash was quick to spot an outlying object.

“10 o’clock,” Mash nodded to the corpse off to the left as they headed further into the ship.

Hawk noted the body, as well as another farther away against the wall and followed the Sergeant. Their HUDs could pick up life signs and so far, there weren’t any.

“Hey Mack!” Baxter called out suddenly. “We’ve got some dead lizards up here!” Baxter appears from an elevated platform up the wall at the back of the cargo bay that they had been heading towards. There was most likely a door to the cockpit and a ladder somewhere.

Mash shook his head and looked up, noting the ship was relatively small now, from what was remaining intact; the ship was now clear.

“It’s Mash.” The Echo squad Sergeant responded under his breath, lowering his rifle in front of him

“Trandoshans?” Hawk inquired, craning his neck to look up to where Baxter and Jack were.

“Lizards. Did I stutter, kid?” Baxter responded.

“Yeah Hawk, Trandoshans,” The remnants of a chuckle sounded through Jack’s helmet as he softened Baxter’s sarcastic response.

Both jumped down into the cargo area and Baxter playfully knocked Hawk’s shoulder plating with his knuckles.

A sudden shudder of cargo crates in the back right corner of the ship’s cargo bay causes the soldiers to jump into action. Mash and Hawk have their weapons trained on the origin of where the sound originated and Baxter and Jack did the same. The first sign of a potential hostile in a week. It was safe to say they were anticipating a threat.

Taking a couple steps closer, Baxter kept his rifle trained at the corner of the damaged ship’s bay before hand signaling to the others.

Mash, Hawk and Jack all gave nods in response before Baxter spoke up.

“Come out!” Voice alone, Baxter’s ranged on the lower end of what was common for clones; coupled with the helmet filtering his voice, he sounded even more menacing.

When nothing followed the demand, Baxter knocked the crates with a calculated kick of his armored leg, jostling them a good bit but not moving them enough to reveal the hostile.

“NOW!”

Changing the settings on his HUD, Mash changed his helmet display to thermal and after a couple seconds, his brow knit together at the readings coming from behind the crates.

“Bax-”

“Am I speaking Huttese? Get out here you di-”

“Take it easy, Baxter!” Mash finally snapped, jabbing the other Sergeant with his armored elbow before lowering his weapon.

“Er you crazy?” Baxter growled, helmeted gaze whipping around to the other Sergeant.

“Alright you,” Mash took a couple of steps closer, “C’mon out,” Voice still significantly firm, but lower in volume to Baxter’s, Mash waited for some kind of response to the changed approach.

The silence that followed doesn’t ease Baxter’s caution as he kept his rifle trained on the crates before eyes peek over one of the boxes.

“Yeah you- out.” Mash muttered pointing to the ground in front of his feet with his forefinger, rifle still held up in one hand trained ahead.

A small being made their way out from behind the crates and Hawk slowly lowered his rifle; Jack followed the action not far behind.

Taking a moment to process the lifeform, Baxter felt his shoulders fall. “Too bad,” Baxter finally muttered. “Was looking for an excuse to unload on somethin,” Baxter’s eyes trail over the young girl now standing in front of him with slight disappointment.

“Sir,” Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Told you Jay,” Baxter glanced back towards his slicer, “I got more of that sociopathic blood in my system than the others.”

Mash looked over the being quietly. She was young, probably an early adolescent; dirty and emaciated. His HUD was picking up on an accelerated heart rate.

“Sir,”

Mash turned and looked over his shoulder to see his Corporal, Razor, along with Trauma Squad Corporal, Ram.

“We went ahead and did an extra sweep of the crash site perimeter. Any life in he- Oh,” Razor caught sight of the small being that barely met the soldiers chest plates in height.

“Affirmative,” Hawk shrugged lightly, rifle at ease in front of him before he looked back down to the girl who had taken a few steps back towards the crates she’d been hiding behind.

“So we’ve got no other survivors,” Baxter stated, processing the fact before nodding.

“The ship didn’t come up on my HU-”

“Didn’t on ours either,” Baxter cut Razor off as he looked over the torn up ship around them.

“I’ll begin scanning the haul,” Ram offered before leaving the damaged cargo bay.

Mash looked around further before turning his eyes to Baxter as he moved out of his peripheral.

“A miracle she survived this,” The Sergeant of Trauma Squad grunted while evaluating the ship’s seemingly nonexistent roof before turning his eyes to the child. “You’re lucky, kid.”

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

CHAPTER NOTE: If you’re reading this, well first off congratulations. I’m frankly quite surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet or given up. Second of all, I hope you enjoyed!!! One note: Mando’a is littered throughout, I apologize if I made mistakes, I’m still learning!

Support is appreciated if you had fun reading :) I hope to post the next chapter soon!

#my fic #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clones #jedi #grand army of the republic #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #republic military #temple of eedit #devaron #galaxy far far away

14 notes · View notes

jade4813 · 5 years

Text

Temptation, Chapter 4

Title: Temptation

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Iris West is a famous supermodel who has been getting a string of death threats. Barry Allen is the bodyguard hired to protect her. A Westallen AU. Gift for @andie1223 in appreciation of her grand prize-winning contribution to the 2019 Westallen Sock Drive!

Chapters: 4/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Barry felt all the air leave his body in a whoosh as he watched her. Her smile grew taunting as she crouched next to the water, swiping her hand across its surface to send droplets of water his way. He straightened, shoving his hands in his pant pockets in a futile attempt to hide his body’s reaction to her. “Iris, I -” he somehow managed, but his voice trailed off when he realized he didn’t have the first idea what he’d been about to say.

“Yes?” she asked, feigning innocence as she stood and turned toward him. “Are you saying you don’t want to go swimming with me, Barry Allen?” she teased.

“It isn’t…I’m not…I-I can’t,” he finally managed, the strain evident in his voice. “It wouldn’t be…with my job…”

She sighed, and he couldn’t help but watch the way her muscles stretched under her skin as she moved. “That’s a shame.” Stepping over the dress that lay discarded in a pool of fabric on the ground, she walked towards the doorway, forcing him to step out of her way.

“You’re not going swimming?” he asked, more from a contrary desire to stop her from leaving than out of genuine curiosity.

Iris shook her head. “That wasn’t the workout I had in mind. Night, Barry.”

Calling himself seven different kinds of fool, Barry watched as she disappeared into the house. Then, blowing out a sharp breath, he walked forward, not even pausing to take off his shoes before stepping over the edge and falling into the pool. As the cold water swept over his head, he already knew it wouldn’t be enough to calm his racing blood. No doubt it would be some time before he would be able to get the image of her naked body out of his mind. Not to mention his dreams.

The next morning, Barry arose early. He’d been unable to sleep much the night before, unable to stop thinking about Iris. He tried everything he could to keep his mind on the job. He was being paid to protect her, nothing else. At the very least, it was unprofessional of him to imagine running his tongue over her body, checking to see if the rest of her tasted as good as her kiss. But try as he might, as he stretched out in bed, he couldn’t keep from imagining if she slept in anything more than she apparently swam in.

Rubbing a hand across his tired eyes as he stepped out of the shower attached to the guest room, Barry grabbed his phone and hit the button to call his team. He had to find a way to get Iris out of her mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by her. And if he was to remain sharp, he couldn’t afford many more sleepless nights spent thinking about her.

“Hey, boss,” the warm greeting pulled him out of his thoughts. “You’re up early.”

He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he replied, “It’s that kind of job.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing some digging since your call yesterday. Looks like she’s a pro at driving off security staff. She giving you a run for your money already?”

He sighed. “It isn’t like that, Sara. She just doesn’t like having her privacy invaded. And I can’t say I blame her.”

“No, but it is part of the job, and we wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary.”

“That doesn’t mean our clients have to like it.”

“I guess,” she replied, her tone clearly indicating she didn’t buy it for a minute. Sara was very good at her job, but she wasn’t known for her patience with other points of view. Her stubbornness had gotten on the wrong side of more than one client over the years, but her quick thinking and physical prowess made her the best person to have watching your back in a fight. She might have angered several clients, but none had ever been injured or killed on her watch. At the end of the day, that was what mattered to him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to step in on this one? I’m sure I could handle one runaway model.”

For a moment, he was tempted. He couldn’t get Iris out of his mind, and he knew that wasn’t the best thing for the job. But he knew Iris wasn’t thrilled about having a new security detail at all. Her cooperation seemed tenuous at best, and if Sara came in to relieve him, he suspected Iris would balk.

Of course, part of him knew he simply didn’t want to be away from her, and he was trying to rationalize an excuse to stay.

“I’ve got it. For now. Did you make any headway on the list I sent over last night?”

She sighed. “We’ve been working our way through them, but we haven’t come across any likely suspects. What about boyfriends? You didn’t flag any names on the list.”

He grimaced. They usually started with lovers – or ex-lovers – for a reason. “I’m still working on it. I assume you’ve been doing some digging online?”

“Of course. We’ll keep at it and let you know if we find anything.”

It had been too much to hope the case would be wrapped up that easily, but that didn’t stop him from being a little disappointed it wasn’t. “Thanks. I’ll check in later.”

Glancing at the clock as he ended the call, he noticed it was almost seven. Time to start the day. After throwing on some clothes, he headed out of his room, intending to track down some breakfast. He smelled coffee and heard someone moving around the kitchen, and his traitorous heart leapt at the realization that Iris was up already. Was it wrong of him to hope she’d had as much difficulty sleeping as he’d had?

He was so focused on thoughts of the woman he was about to see that it took a fraction of a second longer than it should for him to register the sound of someone moving around inside Iris’s bedroom as he passed by. Pausing just a moment to confirm that he heard two distinct sounds of people moving inside the house, he crept toward her bedroom door and opened it silently, hoping his suspicions were correct and it wasn’t Iris he was about to surprise. Just because she’d stood before him in the nude last night didn’t mean she’d welcome him imposing upon her today.

But he needn’t have worried. As he shoved the door open, he saw a man standing next to the bed, his back to the door. The stranger was naked but for a pair of boxers, and Barry saw red. Without even stopping to consider the best course of action, he charged forward. The man let out a squawk of surprise as Barry tackled him from behind, driving him to the ground. Before the intruder could react, Barry twisted his arm behind his back, putting him in a joint lock as he drove his knee into the man’s back. “Don’t move!” he barked. Then he yelled, “Iris! Call the police!”

“Wha – who the hell are you?” the man demanded, his voice slightly muffled as his cheek pressed into the carpet. This close to the man, he noticed that the stranger’s hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, and he wondered at the stalker’s nerve. How had Iris not heard the sound of a shower running? Then again, perhaps she did while she was in the kitchen and she assumed it was him.

“Barry, no! Wait! This isn’t what you think!” Iris yelled as she raced into the room. “I let him in!”

“What?” Barry asked, shooting a glance up at her. That was when he noticed that her hair was also damp from the shower, falling in a riot of curls that framed her face. Had they showered together? At the thought, he unconsciously tightened the joint lock a fraction until his captive let out a yelp.

“Barry, this is Eddie. I-I invited him over. He isn’t the guy you’re looking for. Let him go.” Her voice was soft but firm.

“I – You invited him in? When? It isn’t even seven in the morning!”

“I – um – I invited him over last night. After you went to bed.”

That meant he’d come over some time after two in the morning. Unable to bear thinking about the implications of that, he tried to focus on his responsibilities, instead. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked in mild indignation, trying not to notice how adorable she looked when she was blushing.

In response, Iris raised her chin and glared at him. “I wasn’t entirely sure it was any of your business.”

“Not any of my business? Iris, do I really need to tell you why this is exactly the kind of thing I should know about?”

“Can you guys talk about this later? After you let me up?” the man – Eddie, apparently – grumbled from the ground.

Hesitating only a second, Barry begrudgingly stood, releasing his hold. Then, turning his attention back to Iris, he resolved to ignore Eddie entirely. “So is he your boyfriend?” he asked, somewhat more harshly than he’d intended.

She crossed her arms over her chest and threw him a defiant look. “Are you asking because it’s your job? Or because you’re jealous?”

Barry tried to hide his automatic reaction, gritting his teeth to bite back the words asking her if her boyfriend knew about what had happened – or almost happened – the night before. “I’m asking because it’s my job. I asked you yesterday if you had any boyfriends we should be looking into. I’d say he applies.” He gestured vaguely in Eddie’s direction.

“He’s standing right here, you know,” Eddie interjected, sounding somewhat offended to be so ignored. “And Iris isn’t – ”

“Don’t, Eddie. This doesn’t really concern you,” Iris interrupted him.

“It kind of concerns me,” he grumbled. “I was the one on the ground a second ago.”

“Eddie –” she growled. Then she paused and sighed, throwing him a rueful look. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told Barry you were coming over. I should have realized what he’d think when he caught you here. But, Barry, really, you have to believe me. Eddie isn’t the guy you’re looking for. He’s completely harmless!”

“Hey! I am not!” Eddie blurted indignantly. As Iris and Barry both looked at him in surprise, he explained sheepishly, “I mean, I’d never hurt Iris, of course. Or anyone. But you don’t have to make it sound like I couldn’t hurt someone if I wanted to. I have some skills! I studied martial arts for three days when I was prepping to audition for Never Surrender!”

Catching the expression on Iris’s face, he grimaced. “You know what? You guys clearly have some things to talk about. I – I should go. I’ll – I’ll just go get dressed. Thanks for letting me stay last night. If you ever change your mind about my offer, give me a call.”

Barry wondered if Eddie knew how close he came to eating more carpet when he leaned down to press a kiss against Iris’s cheek. But he didn’t take his eyes from Iris as Eddie grabbed his clothes from a chair and slunk off into the hall, looking for a private place to get dressed.

When they were alone, Barry sighed. “Iris, I don’t mean to invade your privacy. But you know as well as I do that your stalker could be someone close to you. If Eddie is your…if he’s someone close to you, I need to check him out.”

“Eddie isn’t the stalker. You have to trust me on this. You can check him out if you want to, but you’re wasting your time. Eddie and I aren’t – we aren’t together anymore. We used to be. A long time ago. But now…it’s complicated. We let the papers believe we’re together sometimes, because it’s good for business. But we’re just friends. He may be many things, but an obsessed stalker isn’t one of them.”

Though he knew he shouldn’t care what Iris and Eddie were to each other, he felt the muscles in his shoulders relax at her words. Cursing himself silently, he hoped she couldn’t read his feelings on his face as he nodded. “Maybe not. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make sure.”

“So that’s really all it is? Just a job?” At his confused look, she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. Her expression sheepish, she admitted, “I guess I had hoped you were maybe a little jealous. That isn’t why I invited Eddie over. He called me when he was leaving a party nearby, and he’d had too much to drink so…it doesn’t matter. But I…well, I thought I made it pretty clear to you last night that I’m – that I’m attracted to you. When you turned me down, I wondered if…well, I had hoped the attraction wasn’t entirely one-sided.”

He knew the smart thing to do would be to let her believe he wasn’t interested. It would be easier for him if he let her walk away. But having her so close, he didn’t have the strength to do it. He’d turned her down the night before, and she’d haunted his fantasies ever since. He didn’t know how long he would be able to convince himself that keeping her at a distance was the right thing to do, but he knew he couldn’t let her think he simply didn’t care.

“Damn it, Iris,” he growled, framing her face in his hands. “Of course I’m jealous.” He shouldn’t be jealous of Eddie. He didn’t have the right to be. But he was.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled her hard against him and captured her mouth in a kiss.

#fanfiction #my fanfiction #westallen #barry allen #iris west #temptation #bodyguard au #supermodel au

66 notes · View notes

ashfaqqahmad · 5 years

Text

God’s Existence: God, Faith and Science

This is non-fiction based on the experiences of personal life.

As a child, I used to be a typical Muslim— who used to offer namaz, observe Roza and believe in akhirat... Like the other Muslims, I was blindly convinced that this whole world (this planet, planetary system, the universe) has been created by God and he had introduced two human beings in this world as Adam and Eve to start life. He sent many messengers time to time who have conveyed the divine messages... about the right way of living life, the purpose of life and ways of worshipping that almighty God to their respective societies.

After we die, we will either be punished or rewarded in the grave according to our deeds and on the day of qayamat (judgement day) when the whole world will be destroyed, all those who were born— and now are dead will be raised back to life and all their good and bad deeds will be calculated and they will be sent to either heaven or hell where there is an everlasting life— that will never end.

In this concept, hundreds of such small things are included that can be believed only if you don't seek logic in it. If you will try to find logic, various confusions will be created and questions will arise and if you will try to find out the answers, this whole enchantment will collapse. This is applicable to almost all the religious concepts. From the very first step itself, they start challenging a logical intellect and you are forced to choose between logic and faith.

Most of the world’s population succumb to faith because it starts pressurising since birth... The pressure of family, school mates, teachers, friends, neighbours, relatives and colleagues at the workplace... When people around you are praising the illogical religious beliefs then it is impossible to save yourself from unbecoming like them.

But writing in me started developing since childhood and the most important quality of a writer is to be aware... he should know as much as he can. Till then whatever I knew about my religion was based on the literature of my own creed but then when I moved out of the world of ’belief’ and went on the path of ‘knowing’ I realised that the literature of Shia creed of our own religion was almost entirely different except for the part of the Prophet and the fourth caliph Hazrat Ali.

Now how to guess that which is more accurate? Then I understood that in history nothing can be totally right or wrong and religious writers of any creed can never justify with the history because they will only glorify their respective religious leaders. They will intelligently justify the weaknesses, failures and negative aspects of them.

In such a situation, it is better to read the writings of those neutral people who have researched that history without prejudice, by reading all the available facts and then they have written that what can be the nearest possible truth... And after reading that, all the enchantment was broken. All the religious concepts were collapsed like a castle of sand and truth came to light. Obviously, I was a little shocked, I felt bad as if something was taken away from me but I had already guessed it slowly while reading all this.

Then when all those things were cleared, which the religious people of this world have crafted then I was surrounded by the new questions like how this all was created... why it was created? So, I checked all the scientific discussions, research and possibilities available on this matter and came to know many new possibilities through which this planet, this planetary system and universe could be explained… Now after understanding the possibilities, a new curiosity arose that whether this is all self-made or has been created by someone? And if it has been created then what can he be like from the perspective of science?

If you believe Einstein's view then in this whole system, which can be called creation— everything is fixed that is there is a formula for everything, that is it will be like this or it will be like that. There is no room for “possibility” or “may”, but in this theory, there were many unanswered questions which were solved by the string theory which relates with the quantum physics and quantum physics is open about possibilities— or rather “maybe.” So now, if we think while keeping this in mind, then there are many possibilities about this whole system, which is discussed in the scientific world and we will also look at the same possibilities.

There are many articles on social media on these discussions and this book is a collection of those articles which is an attempt to make a garland by stringing many beads… ~Ashfaq Ahmad

Hindi version paperback on amazon https://amzn.to/2rHTCpa

English version paperback on amazon https://amzn.to/2QnGjSQ

Hindi version paperback on flipkart http://bit.ly/2Zm8oOt

English version paperback on flipkart http://bit.ly/375UiUh

Hindi version paperback on Gradias http://bit.ly/2SnttHc

English version paperback on Gradias https://gradias.in/product/gods-existence/

You can get this book on almost all amazon's channels around the world. https://www.amazon.com/dp/8194345138

And if you want E-book version then u can get here.. Hindi Ebook http://bit.ly/2sinjx7

English Ebook http://bit.ly/2Sx2lFN

#Religion and Science #nonfiction #Journey of Mankind #faith vs logic #programmed universe #existence of god

31 notes · View notes

quicksilver-foxheart · 5 years

Text

Wind in the Wilderness (3/?)

"How much farther is Rito Village?" Wind could barely keep his voice from taking on a whiny edge. But Wild pushed a hard pace. Not even Time, strict as he could be, made them walk this much in a single day. And for the most part, he was left with nothing but silence. So, bored and more than a little tired, Wind passed their trekking time by trying to imagine what that glowing orange device at the long-haired Hero's hip was.

He only saw brief glimpses of it, when the wind fluttered that long black cloak or when he moved particularly fast. But never once did Wild touch it, perhaps thinking that Wind hadn't seen it, perhaps wanting to keep it that way. He could understand a desire to keep secrets-it seemed to be a common theme amongst the Links-but he burned with curiosity.

So swept up in this curiosity was Wind that at first, he didn't hear his companion's reply. It took him a moment for his brain to process what had been said, but alas, he hadn't heard.

"Eh?" Wind turned his head, offering up a sheepish grin, taking pride in the small smile that seemed to play at the blue-clad Hero's lips. An almost-there smile was better than straight silence, right?

"Perhaps another few days, if we rise early and don't waste a single moment of daylight. "

Wind couldn't hold back a groan at that. His feet hurt so, so much. He wanted to beg for a rest, perhaps ask him to cook another delicious meal-but no. He couldn't just do that. He did want to find the other Links, right? With every passing day, he found himself more and more missing all their quirks. Warrior and Legend's banter, Time and Twi's shared looks, Hyrule's attempts at cooking, sitting by the fire, sharing stories late into the night.

But maybe, if-no, when-they reunited, there would be new stories from a new hero. And while Wind decided to let the others-namely, Sky-explain the whole 'reincarnation' thing, perhaps he still might be able to hint at the truth, maybe even weasle a few stories out of Wild as well. It would certainly pass the time. Hilltop High Road, as Wild had called it, seemed to go on forever.

"Hey, Link?" Hylia, he'd never get used to how weird it felt to call another by that name. Hopefully they found his title soon.

Wild gave a hum in response, taking his ever-watchful gaze off the surrounding area and focusing it on his younger companion.

Wind fumbled for words. How exactly was he to go about this? Perhaps a simple story would be good for now. Hinting at truths of ages-old legends could be saved for later, he supposed.

"What's Rito Village like?" In all honesty, Wind was certainly curious. If Time's timeline theory was correct, then if there was a Rito Village, then that must mean thay they were from the same timeline. Maybe. It was all so confusing. But either way, perhaps he could pinpoint where-or rather, when-exactly in history he was.

"It's a quiet, peaceful, serene stable in the midst of Lake Totori, at the base of the Hebra Mountain Range."

Lake Totori? Hebra Mountains? Wind didn't recall anything like that. Had one of the others mentioned of those places?

"It can get quite cold around there, but we can worry about that when we get there. "

Rito Village? Cold? He certainly didn't remember it that way, especially with all that lava inside, but, then again, he seemed to have the warmest Hyrule by far.

Wind nearly melted in relief at the sight of the stable. While he still may be a little anxious around horses, they were almost certain to stop.

"What stable is this?" he asked, recalling the one where he'd woken up, and how it'd just been called, 'Outskirt Stable.'

"Tabantha Bridge Stable. "

Wind didn't know where the thought came from, but something made him feel like the suspicions Wild seemed to be harboring towards him, as kind as he acted, seemed to be slowly-very slowly-getting used to Wind and talking just slightly more. Hell, he'd actually gotten him to show a smile. He got the feeling that that was an accomplishment.

"We'll stop here for a break, eat, and, since it's barely midday, keep on going towards Rito Stable. "

Wind's previous relief was crushed by the fact that they'd be departing in the same day. Guess he should've seen that coming. But at least they'd stop. Because he certainly was hungry.

Wordlessly, Wild began pulling ingredients. . .from the device? Pretending to busy himself with his sword, Wind watched in wonder as a whole array of ingredients appeared seemingly out of nowhere. It wasn't too long later when a crackling sound arose from the pot between them, and a delicious smell arose from it. Putting the sword aside, Wind watched the meat simmer in a bubbling liquid, chunklets of vegetables swimming within.

He glanced from the pot to see Wild watching him with an emotionless expression. Mystery swirled within those cerulean eyes. They quite possibly were the bluest eyes amongst the blue-eyed reincarnations.

Wind felt somewhat awkward, holding that gaze silently, the pleasant buzz of chatter, snuffling of horses and bleating of sheep around them.

"Do you want to know what it is?"

Wind startled at that oh-so-quiet voice. It was quite uncanny, really. But he nodded, assuming they were talking about that odd glowing device.

Wild picked up the Slate once again. Truth be told, he didn't know why he wanted to talk about it. Normally he tried to hide the Shiekah Slate. But he got a different feeling from this kid. There was a sort of familiarity, something he only felt at the locations Zelda had taken pictures of and at his rarely-used house.

"It's called the Shiekah Slate. It stores things inside of it for later use, and can create true-to-life images." Hylia, that sounded believable.

Wind eyed it, fascinated. Kind of like his pictograph, he supposed. "Can I hold it?"

Wild dropped his gaze to the screen, face lit up in a blueish light. Almost reluctantly, he handed it over, eyes following along.

Wind accepted the Slate eagerly, holding it gingerly between his hands, eyes trained on the screen. Said screen showed several boxes, containing various things, and as he swiped and tapped at the screen, he found more and more screens of boxes, until, finally, he found something different. Something that was clearly a map.

Wind frowned. Even on the map, Rito Village was still quite far away. “Where exactly did you find me?” He tore his eyes away from the screen, making eye contact once more.

Wild, feeling uncomfortable with the eye contact, slightly shifted his eyes.”Near the Great Plateau,” he said vaguely.

Wind slid his finger across the map until he found the aforementioned location. “What’s with all these blue things?” he asked, finger hovering over one such point.

Wild looked up sharply, and Wind felt as if he’d done something wrong. “Don’t touch them,” Wild warned. “They’re. . .shrines.” Shaking his head, the Hero stood up. “I’m going to bed. . .g’night, Wind.”

Wind frowned as he handed the Slate back over. Standing up stiffly, he winced at the ache in his muscles, and half-waddled, half-walked into the stable to retire for the night.

a/n: this is short and probably shoulda came out weeks ago but i just could not figure out how to finish it.

#linkeduniverse #hero of winds #hero of the wild

125 notes · View notes

pointy-hat-witch · 5 years

Note

Fic where kirishima is a French celebrity and bakugo is his bodyguard (lol idk if that’s weird). This is for the fic rec thingy :)

Requests are still open!

Nothing weird about that!! Thank you so much!!

Title: Words unspokenSeries: Boku no Hero AcademiaPairing: Kirishima Eijirou/Bakugou KatsukiWordcount: 2809Summary: Bakugou was tasked to be the bodyguard of a French celebrity, he had never heard of. Well, what could go wrong if they both couldn’t understand them because of their languages?

Bakugou groaned inwardly for the sixth time in the last ten minutes or so, contemplating all of his life choices that had led him to be in this position. He was standing with the back to the wall, about a meter away from the person who crashed into his world without warning, crumbling everything he worked for so hard. And he didn’t even care. What the actual fuck.

-- 5 days earlier –

Lounging on his couch, Bakugou enjoyed one of his rare free Sundays. Usually, Bakugou had to work on weekends, especially on weekends, but now, after about eight weeks in a row, he finally had a day off and he was adamant, to not do anything. Maybe going to the gym later on, but that didn’t count as actual work or something.

Nursing a glass of orange juice in one hand and a sports magazine in the other, his phone started to ring. After the third ring, Bakugou was a patient man, thank you very much, he grabbed it after slamming down his drink and paper.

“What?!” If someone had his number, that meant they knew him well enough he wasn’t one for pleasantries and he wouldn’t start now.

“Jolly, aren’t we?” came the gruff voice of Aizawa, his agent if he could call it that. Bakugou grunted in response and fell back into his couch again. Aizawa calling meant a new job, for nothing else he would call.

“Tomorrow afternoon, 2 pm, a French celebrity is coming to Japan, rather spontaneously. They’re staying for a week or two and their parents asked for someone professional. They themselves are not pleased with it, so don’t start a fight with them.”

Bakugou listened and soaked up the information. Great, didn’t French people have the reputation to be arrogant? Not that he was one to judge. But at least, his arrogance wasn’t baseless and normally, if a celebrity claimed they didn’t need protection they’re especially in need of it.

“What’s their name?” Bakugou pulled up his laptop, his fingers already itching to make his own research.

“Kirishima Eijirou.”

“Huh? Japanese?”

“Well, their parents are but they were born and raised in France. I don’t think they speak Japanese.”

“Fantastic.” Sarcasm oozed from him. There was hope they wouldn’t have too much of an accent. “Send me an email with the rest.” With another grunt, Bakugou disconnected to start his research.

Kirishima Eijirou, 26, actor and model and a hotshot in Europe. With only 8 years of age they had their first supportive role in a fantasy drama, with 10 they were the leading role. 7 years later, a model company got him under contract and ever since the star was rising. There was a small article about their trip to Japan, in which they stated, they wanted to finally see the homeland of their parents.

Great, if they want a fucking tour guide, they could go fuck themselves. Bakugou’s mood soured by the minute, already dreading the next two weeks. Hopefully, they would find Japan not nearly as interesting as they hoped and fly back to their lovely European country.

A pop-up window signaled an incoming mail, which Bakugou opened immediately. He scanned the usual information about the client, nothing he didn’t find out himself earlier. They should drop off at Narita Airport at 1:58 pm and then there was the address of their hotel they would be staying. Bakugou scrolled down, not interested in all the small details, he was just there to keep them safe after all, until he reached the payment section. He had to make a double-take, staring at the quite hefty sum. Are all European celebrities loaded? This was as much as he got for the past six months, holy fuck. For that, he could put up with this Kirishima.

Attached was a photo of them, and Bakugou realized he didn’t look up this fine detail. He opened the file, breath hitching in his throat. Hotshot became a whole new meaning. Bakugou didn’t question their model career, at least not anymore. Kirishima’s red eyes were wide open, crinkling at the corners by the big smile and Bakugou felt as if they looked right into his soul. The red hair was bright like a halo around their head, sharp teeth giving their innocent-looking smile a dangerous note.

It was only a headshot but judging by their neck and shoulders, Bakugou didn’t think they needed protection at all. If these muscles weren’t all for show, at least. But something about how Kirishima carried themselves told him; they weren’t.

The next day went around too fast. After his initial shock, Bakugou pushed down all his surprise and fascination, it was just a job like every other. Waiting at the airport in his crisp black suit, well fitted, accompanied with a pair of dark sunglasses and a stun gun in his holster, Bakugou held up a small sign with Kirishima’s name on it. It didn’t take long until Kirishima arrived, a big group of people in their tow.

They smiled at everyone they locked eyes with, waving and scribbling on photographs, magazines and whatever else was pushed into their face. Just watching this, Bakugou’s eyes twitched. Kirishima looked around and, finally, their eyes landed on Bakugou. Their smile grew a little more, and after waving one last time at their fans, they jogged over.

Despite being a model and being able to pull off a lot of different looks, Bakugou did some more research, sue him, Kirishima looked like a fashion disaster. Did they think they were in Hawaii? A big, colored Hawaiian shirt over a black muscle shirt and deep green Bermuda shorts decorated their body, completed by a pair of red crocs. Holy fucking hell.

Bakugou steeled his nerves when Kirishima walked up to them.

“Bonjour!” The lips split into another grin. “Bakugou Katsuki?”

Bakugou nodded curtly, turning around without another word.

“Attendez!” Kirishima yelped but caught up to him in no time. Ignoring the inquisitive eyes on him, Bakugou led them outside to their car. He didn’t make any move to help Kirishima with their bags or, god beware, holding their door open and just sat down on the driver’s seat. After a few seconds, the trunk was opened and closed, Kirishima sat down next to him.

“Fait, merci. Savez-vous où aller?” They kneaded their fingers in their lap slightly, but Bakugou just put down his glasses and maneuvered their car out of the parking lot. Kirishima hummed next to him but didn’t ask any more questions, thank god.

The drive was short and silent. Bakugou parked right in front of the hotel, a staff member came up to park the car in their underground garage. Ignoring Kirishima’s luggage again, Bakugou just waited for Kirishima to walk up. Bakugou wasn’t here to babysit and do things for him, he just needed to put his life on the line when the situation arose. Kirishima shot him a grin and walked up to the reception, waving dismissively at the page who was grabbing for their luggage.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Une réservation sur le nom Kirishima Eijirou.“

„Bien sûr, un moment, s’il vous plaît.“ Came the immediate answer from the receptionist. Huh, did they had to speak French in hotels nowadays? Bakugou pushed down his curiosity and finally did his job, he was paid for it after all. Ignoring any further chit chat between them, Bakugou was on the lookout for any abnormalities. Even if this trip was spontaneous, one or two days was enough for some people to come up with the craziest ideas.

Without incident, however, they got up to Kirishima’s room. They fell down on the bed with an exclamation, laying on it like a starfish. Bakugou used this time to walk through all the rooms, inspecting if there would be any other people with them, for whatever reason. It took him about ten minutes since there were three bedrooms (they were alone, why did they need so many bedrooms?), two bathrooms, two spacious living rooms, and even a kitchen.

After his inspection, Bakugou walked up to Kirishima again who now sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, switching through the TV channels.

“Listen up”, Bakugou crossed his arms, speaking English a little slower than usual, “I don’t know how you do this stuff usually, but I have some rules your better follow if you…” Bakugou petered out as he saw Kirishima’s wide eyes on him, their eyebrows slowly knitting in confusion as he spoke on.

“Do you… even understand me?” Bakugou huffed incredulously. This must be a fucking joke.

“Uhm”, Kirishima scratched their nose, “Vous ne parlez pas français?”

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, a growl formed in the back of his throat. “Godfuckingdamnit.”

Laughter boomed out of Kirishima. Curses seemed to be universal at least, though, Bakugou wasn’t in the mood to laugh. How should he work with someone with whom he couldn’t communicate?

The rest of the day and the day after, Bakugou felt like all of Japan got a memo he didn’t receive. Was French suddenly the second language for everyone or why was every Tom, Dick, and Harry able to speak French fluently? Wherever they went, museums, parks, restaurants, shops, everyone didn’t hesitate to answer Kirishima in their native language and it drove Bakugou mad. He was the one who was the most prepared of them all, always. But even he couldn’t learn a language in one or two days so how come that everyone suddenly could?!

Bakugou was fuming. It took all of his professionalism to stay focused and do his job properly. At least, Kirishima didn’t try too often to strike up a conversation but they warmed up to him which Bakugou didn’t appreciate. They tried to coax him to watch TV with them or offered them a seat at the restaurants they went, but Bakugou either glared at them until they relented or plain up ignored them.

Maybe because they couldn’t communicate, Bakugou was concentrating more on Kirishima’s action, their gestures, and mimics, to assess the situation and to intervene if necessary. On the third day, Bakugou begrudgingly had to admit, he could easily tell when Kirishima was genuinely smiling at someone or was faking it and was polite; he could estimate when Kirishima was done somewhere when their interest dropped and for whatever reason, Bakugou then subtly steered them somewhere else.

On the fourth day, Bakugou realized, Kirishima did something similar. Whenever they were in open spaces or too crowded spaces, Bakugou got fidgety after a certain amount of time. Especially in these places something could happen because there were so many potential culprits and too many directions someone could come from and it took a toll on Bakugou’s concentration. So, whenever he was almost at his limit, Kirishima decided to take a break and go somewhere quiet.

This is how he found himself in a backroom of a fancy restaurant, Kirishima meeting with some famous family for dinner because their children were big fans of them, taking deep, deliberated breaths to calm himself down. Even as he noticed Kirishima’s care? Indulgence? Bakugou didn’t mind. Somehow, he enjoyed their non-verbal communication.

A little absent-minded, Bakugou stared at the twins in front of Kirishima who stared at them as if they were a deity coming down to earth specifically just for them and Bakugou had to suppress a snort. Teenage fans were hilarious. If they knew, Kirishima snored horribly or that they couldn’t cook for shit or they nibbled on all their pens and pencils in concentration, they sure wouldn’t be so hung up on them.

It was only a split second, but Bakugou was nothing if not the best at what he did, so everything happened so fast and in slow-motion at the same time. His eyes saw the glint of the knife in one of the twin sisters hand, his body already tensing up, so when she suddenly shot up on her chair, he had his hand already at Kirishima’s collar to pull them back, pushing them behind him and grabbing the wrist of the girl with his other hand. In one swift movement, he pushed her down on the table, twisting her arm on her back and making her drop the knife.

“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?” Bakugou growled at her. Everyone was silent for a few seconds until the girl started crying. Her parents grabbed at Bakugou, screaming to release her.

“What in the world are you doing to my daughter?! Get your filthy hands off of her!” The mother almost screeched in his ears.

“Are you fucking blind?!” Bakugou snapped back. “Didn’t you see how she attacked them?!”

“She didn’t do anything! You suddenly attacked her!” The father screamed at him, pulling back a fist to throw at Bakugou. Before it could even get near him, Kirishima pulled the man back with a dangerous smile.

“I’m sorry, I must ask of you to not assault my bodyguard when he is just doing his job.”

Bakugou just barely registered that he understood Kirishima as he spoke perfect Japanese when the man jerked his arm free, obviously, Kirishima let him, and grabbed his daughter from off the table and pushed his family out of the room without any further comment.

There was a beat of silence as the door fell shut behind them, leaving Kirishima and Bakugou staring at it as if this couldn’t just have happened.

“What the actual fuck?”

“You tell me.”

Bakugou twirled around. “You!”

“I?” Kirishima blinked. “Oh yeah, you do speak Japanese!” Apparently it was hilarious enough, to laugh.

“You fucker! You hair-for-brains fucking stupid shit speak Japanese and didn’t tell me?!”

Kirishima wiped away a tear from their eye as they caught their breath. “I- I-“, they huffed. “I thought you could only speak English! You just started with that and I thought, you know”, they shrugged helplessly, still giggling.

“Don’t you … fuck … stop laughing! You almost got killed! There is nothing funny about this situation!” Bakugou fisted his hands, gritting his teeth.

“Oh? Did I? I thought you had the situation pretty much under control.” Kirishima finally huffed out the rest of his laughter, lazily resting their hands on their hips. Their eyes laid on Bakugou with utmost confidence that their life was in good hands. Bakugou felt his face heat up and coughed.

“Of fucking course, I did!” The grunted, pushing the chairs back at the table just so his hands had something to do.

“Well, so, there was nothing to worry about.” Kirishima shrugged. “It’s a shame for the food, though.” The pushed the plates further onto the table, so they didn’t tip over, but most of the food was already spilled on the tablecloth.

“That isn’t …” Bakugou snapped his mouth shut in frustration. How could Kirishima be so calm? “Just … let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“You got it!”

How didn’t he realize that Kirishima did, in fact, speak Japanese? That was ridiculous. So many stupid situations could have been avoided. Angry at himself and Kirishima, Bakugou sat down in the car and closed the door with too much force.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“What, shitty hair?” Bakugou growled, earning a low snicker.

“Thanks for saving my life.”

Bakugou’s head whirled around to Kirishima who looked at him warmly, a small smile that illuminated the small compartment of the car like the sun, nevertheless.

“You’re … fuck.” Bakugou started the car, fixing his eyes on the road so he wouldn’t stare at Kirishima again, causing an accident, worst-case scenario. Their drive was short and silent, but not uncomfortable. They walked up to Kirishima’s room, Bakugou had taken the liberty to live in one of the other bedrooms since they wouldn’t be used otherwise, so he could stay near his client at any given time.

After changing into something more comfortable, Bakugou stood in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and the fridge.

“What are you doing?” Kirishima sat down on one of the stools, leaning over the kitchen island with one hand at their chin.

“Dinner.” Bakugou grunted. Kirishima’s mouth formed a soundless ‘o’ and then split into another grin.

“Sure thing. You need any help?”

“Not from you, fuckmunch. You’ll just set the kitchen on fire.”

“It was just one and just a little bit of plastic!” Kirishima cried out, throwing their arms up.

“You were making a bowl of cereal!”

“Well, yeah?!”

They stared at each other until they both snorted. Bakugou turned back around to the stove, pouring oil into it and getting the steak ready. Kirishima didn’t stop smiling as they watched Bakugou cooking in comfortable silence.

And when Kirishima stayed a few weeks longer in Japan and Bakugou came with him to France afterward, well, it wasn’t anybody’s fucking business, was it?

#anon #request #Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #KiriBaku #Kirishima Eijirou #Bakugou Katsuki #Bodyguard AU #that was so much fun to write #thank you so much!!#there was a lot more I could have played out and the ending seemed a little sudden #i hope you still like it #!!#<3 #are you aware of how bad I am with giving titles

16 notes · View notes