#stop destroying wildlife

[mommahughes19-23]

Hey y'all, this is another REALLY great cause to donate (IF YOU CAN) to and it's actually something that affects me personally. If you have any questions of want further information you can reach out to @jamesgaddis also feel free to just simply share this link :)

[hawkpartys]

Six-spotted Orbweaver (Araniella displicata)

[jouno-s]

i think maybe it’s a little telling that almost every person i’ve had the ‘are zoos/aquariums ethical?’ debate with doesn’t actually work in the industry or have any animal-specific education

[happyk44]

I feel like if Percy were to snap and go batshit, Grover would be rightfully freaked out but he'd also be like "oh damn, thought this would be happened WAY sooner" and keeping a respectful distance while Percy lays siege to whatever the fuck tipped him over the edge. And then maybe he'd get him a burger once he's calmed down and they would never speak about it again.

[snekdood]

the other day I was outside in the place I live and I looked up to the telephone wire and there were 14 whole ass mourning doves (not including the ones that were on the ground/flew away). and ik my ass is responsible for their boom in numbers djhbfsdghjvfd

[affectionatecorpse]

I'm once again getting overly philosophical over horror movies, so here's a study of the death angels from A Quiet Place as observed by a very enthusiastic animal loving veterinarian.

Every time people talk about death angels, it is, understandably, about how violent they are. These creatures are brutal and merciless, and will tear apart anything that makes too much noise. Hence the title of the movie.

Death angels are frankly terrifying, and show no empathy towards the creatures of the planet they invaded. No living thing is safe from them.

... so here's why they COULD be--

Look. Death angels are simply not suited for our planet. It's a noisy, chaotic place full of noisy, chaotic animals. From humans, to raccoons, to birds, to cats, nearly everything in our world is a potential trigger for a noise sensitive animal such as these.

But that's exactly what they are. Animals. And no one seems to remember that fact. People talk about them as though they themselves are sentient, anthropomorphic monsters, but the way these creatures act mimic many real life animals. Animals that don't belong here, but are trying to survive here. On a noisy planet covered in water, which they despise and cannot swim in.

Death angels are completely blind by nature, as seen in many other creatures such as cavefish, moles, and my personal favourite, the olm. Due to a lack of sight, they very clearly use echolocation in the film, to scan their surroundings and... well, not get dead. But echolocation is far from their only tool, as their ears are the strongest asset they have.

Their ears are INCREDIBLY sensitive. Just the slight ticking of an egg timer when heard from their perspective in the first film, is like a pounding drum in their ear. This is fine in a naturally quiet planet, but if a very subtle tick is that loud, then imagine the rest of the noise. Screaming. Explosions. Crashing. Little toy planes. Holy CRAP, that's gotta hurt.

Sounds that loud would definitely cause extreme hearing problems from pressure over time, and easily result in lifelong illnesses and disabilities such as deafness, infection, and so forth, if not stopped. It's going to be painful. It's literally bursting their ear drums inside their heads, and you can't explain to an animal why it hurts. You cannot rationalise with wildlife about treatment and self care. An injured and scared animal is always going to turn hostile, no matter how docile they may be normally. You can't explain to a lion with a knife in it's belly that you can stop the pain if it just doesn't attack you. You can't explain to a death angel that it needs to go somewhere more isolated instead of just destroying the source of the noise to shut it up.

Going to backtrack here a sec. Remember how I mentioned echolocation being another asset this creature has? Which means the slightest movement, the tiniest breath, can immediately allow you to be seen by it. With ears that good, too? It can see you from ages away. It knows you're there. Which means they DON'T attack for sport.

'Evil' is a concept rarely seen in nature. Yes, a lot of humans can be evil. And yes, many creatures can be too. Animals hunt for sport as well. Cats, for example! Although even then, I wouldn't describe it as evil. Calling the death angels evil implies they're attacking out of malicious intent, which just isn't true. In moments of panic, they'll destroy. But they are fully aware of humans around them.

Humans need to breathe, and can't stay perfectly still very easily. The death angels would be able to see our main cast at several points, even when they're being quiet. They don't attack whenever they locate a sign of life. For example, the scene in the basement. Being that close, whether the water was running or not, that alien absolutely would've heard Evelyn and the baby's sharp breaths. It didn't care. It was clicking at them almost curiously before it heard the bang of the silo, to which it ditched them to stop the sound.

This scene is a great example of why they don't kill for sport. Injured and young animals are especially easy prey for a creature built so strong and nimble. Evelyn is shown to be terrified of the mere presence of this thing, but it never actually does anything in the scene. It moves about. Ignores her movements in the flooding water. Investigates the baby. Clicks curiously at her while she backs away. It moves slowly and on all fours, when we know while aggressive, they will stand up on their hind legs (unless sprinting) and move very fast.

This implies it was in... well, not a submissive position, but a nonthreatening one. It wasn't baring it's teeth (as best it could), it had it's claws tucked up and unused, and was in no way in a primed-to-attack mentality. Until the silo made a loud bang. And even then, it could've quickly sliced up the two in the basement before running off, but it DIDN'T. It just left, without a moment of hesitation.

Let's also acknowledge the anatomy.

This is a carnivore. With sharp teeth for ripping apart prey, sharp claws for defence, and thick armour for protection from it's natural climate, as well as strong, long legs for running, this is absolutely a meat eater. The fact it's so well equipped makes me wonder if their natural prey is just as dangerous as them, which is why they have such tough skin. Or if they themselves have something above them in the food chain.

They seem to be pack animals, as usually others aren't far behind when one is about. Such as the trio by the Abbott house, the few at the docks, the ones by Emet's hideout, and even that group sliding down the building in the Day One clip I keep seeing as a gif. With their knack for running included, I wonder if they function like lions? Blending into their environment back home, clicking to hear prey, then the whole pack going on the chase when their target is vulnerable, in a way.

I got distracted. My point was, in a year, all the bodies from past victims vanished. All those people in the town who were swiped left and right just vanished from the town. They couldn't have decomposed in such short time, which means something moved them when it was safe. Something like a carnivore needing food after it felt comfortable in the silent aftermath. The argument that they do it for sport is one I see all the time, and it's just not true.

Everything needs to eat. Carnivores need to eat. Animals need to protect themselves from suspected danger. They never eat on screen because whenever they're on screen, they're surrounded by noise and are DISTRESSED. Have you ever had a sick pet? Most of the time, it won't eat when it's ill because it's too stressed, uncomfortable or in too much pain. When having their ear drums assaulted, a death angel isn't going to sit down with a cup of tea and a grilled cheese. Also, I won't add it because there's blood, but in the scene with the old man screaming in the woods, after it attacks, you can actually see it go back on all fours and sniff about the aftermath, like a hungry predator catching prey to eat. This was probably the first and currently only on screen proof of my claim.

By all means, not all animals are meant to be tamed. Jordan Peele's Nope said that best. Yet I can't help but wonder about the individual. Every animal is completely unique. Some will tolerate more than others. Due to their realistic nature and the similarities to actual animals, in specific circumstances, could they be befriended?

Anyway keep an eye out for A Quiet Place 4 where someone has a pet one that wears doggy ear protectors and accepts meat in exchange for pets-- /j

[unrestrained-balderdash-art-blog]

Recently there was a patch of trees felled without warning.

It's nesting season, so it's very dangerous for the birds to destroy their trees. I've already seen woodpigeons mating in the nearby area about a month ago. I've seen birds such as woodpigeons, magpies, great tits, blue tits and a sparrowhawk in the area that's been felled (as well as robins, long-tailed tits, coal tits, blackbirds, goldfinches and house sparrows nearby). I have also heard a Jay nearby before, and one Facebook commenter has said there are nesting Jays. Additionally, it looks horrible - there used to be beautiful trees, and now there's just a thin strip of trees along the footpath, as well as a horrid big hole next to the car park. Our green spaces need more protection.

According to two councillor's Facebook posts, the Forestry Commission are investigating due to no felling licence or planning permission. They have served a Stop Notice. The matter has been raised with the wildlife crime team due to disturbance to nesting birds. The area has been allocated for development, but the felling has had insufficient regard for the environmental impact.

Developers will often illegally fell trees, then take the fine and build houses since it's already been destroyed. However, they could now be issued a restocking order, and would have to replant the trees.

I've seen two messages on the gate to the site protesting this, so I made this piece. If there's public uproar it could hopefully make them think twice next time, even if it doesn't save this one.

[revelboo]

Any thoughts on how Skyfire would interact with a pet human of his own?

Floating Down The River

IDW Skyfire x Reader

• It’s a losing battle trying to crouch down among the trees, knowing he’s not fully hidden as he settles himself on the ground. Being still is the key, though. Waiting patiently is something he’s all too familiar with. Slowly the wildlife his presence spooked returns. In the trees around him, the birds cautiously begin singing again and a couple of squirrels chase each other in the underbrush. He needs this, the quiet and peace. Understands why Optimus isn’t exactly happy with him for declaring himself a pacifist, but also that his leader in turn doesn’t understand why. He’s still an Autobot, but this world doesn’t deserve to be the latest in a string of casualties of their war. It goes against everything he believes in and he’s just so tired of it.

• Bending to pick up a discarded no trespassing placard, you frown at the damage. This wasn’t from bored teenagers or the deliberate vandalism of hunters. The fence on your side of the ditch was broken like a car had crashed through it, but there weren’t any tire ruts, no wreck. Just deep, muddy impressions you can’t make any sense of. And the damage extends into the trees, a litter of broken branches and crushed undergrowth like a very small tornado had gone through, forming a tunnel through the trees. Standing there in the sun in your boots, you tug at the straps of your backpack and start walking. A plane crash maybe? Maybe a Cessna?There been no smoke, though. Surely there would have been.

�� Delicate little deer are the last to return, heads turned to stare at him as their ears flick. He’s certain they see him, but as long as he’s still they don’t know what to make of him and eventually ignore him to graze. Organic life, so fragile and curious. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with this world, but it’s just so alive. Cybertron had been like this once, the life not organic, but still wild and free. He’s an outsider here, an intruder and always will be, but he can still enjoy observing. And try not to remember the last world their war had spilled over onto and the destruction they’d left behind when the fighting had moved on. How long would it be before that world healed enough to sustain life? Too long for the life that had existed if any of it had survived. That guilt pulls at him, because even if he’s not getting involved this time, it’s his people that will kill this world. It’s inevitable. All they know how to do now is destroy.

• It’s easy enough to follow the tunnel, your neck craning as the size of whatever has come through sinks in. Climbing over a fallen log, you catch a glimpse of something white ahead. Something massive. A hint of a wing, but it doesn’t look quite like a plane, the shape wrong. Wreckage? Moving faster, branches snap under your boots and the misshapen wreckage moves. A head turns and you stumble to a stop as it unfolds to stand and tower over you. It’s not a plane crash, it’s a monster.

• Startled by the sound of branches, he turns. Aware of the deer bounding away at his movement, but it’s the little human standing there staring up at him that snares him. No one is supposed to see them. They’re in hiding here, eventually the war will erupt and there’ll be no keeping their presence secret, but now? He doesn’t know what to do, you’re just staring up at him, eyes wide. So he lifts a hand in greeting and before he can say a word, you scream and run. And then he’s running without thinking, trying to catch you before you can go shrieking into town about giant aliens invading.

Next

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Home. The word itself tasted like mothballs and childhood memories, both bitter and sweet on your tongue. 

What others would call home, did not feel like home to you at all, not after your mother had destroyed everything that you were familiar with just when you had turned fifteen.

It was then that she had begun an affair with an actor named Cillian Murphy, whom she had met on the set of a movie he was filming and, just as if she had planned it all, she became pregnant with your stepsister Sadie. 

Your mother was 37 at the time, with Cillian having been five years her senior. 

It was all over the papers at the time and, just as you thought that things could not get any worse, she left your father, who was heartbroken and bewildered, and moved in with this then stranger to you.

You and your twin sister, Cliona, were expected to just follow suit, like little lost puppies and whilst Cillian himself seemed like a nice man, it was not something that you were able to do that easily. You had always been strong willed and gave your mother quite the run for her money with your rebellious nature which, in part, was the reason why she had pushed you to go away to live your father in New York.

New York was where you had finished school and, as soon as you turned eighteen, you made your way on a journey around the world. 

You travelled to New Zealand, Africa and then South Amerika too.  There were times when your money ran out but you always managed to get by, taking on odd jobs here and there, just so that you could survive.

It was during your time in Tanzania, when you met a woman, in her forties, who worked in an orphanage with you, and it was her who introduced you to photography. She told you that the camera was woman's truth and that with it, you had the power to tell stories.

She handed you her canvas camera and you began to snap away, discovering facets of Tanzania, its people and its wildlife in ways that words alone could not articulate.

The experience had left an indelible impression on you and from that day onwards, you knew that photography would be the lens through which you viewed the world and translated your experiences.

Your wanderlust had taken you on a three year journey, one that had seen you capture the beauty of the world through photographs. You had even managed to sell some of them to a hip magazine, which showcased your work alongside a spread of your adventures.

The pay was decent, just enough to keep you going and still let you see the world.

College had been an option, but not one you wanted to seriously consider. You had never been one to follow the rules and conventions that came with higher education, and the thought of being stuck in a classroom for four more years seemed unbearably tedious.

But then, after an amazing three years, your travel journey came to an abrupt end when you got into trouble with the law while passing through the UK, on your way back to New York. 

At London Heathrow,  just after taking a flight from Rome, you were stopped by customs for questioning regarding a package that they found in your luggage. It was a small box that just fit snugly within the zippered pocket in your backpack.

Inside the box there were as an illicit substance and it was this substance that got you arrested. 

You were questioned for hours, leaving you dazed, frightened and confused about how the drugs had even gotten into your bag and, after a series of panicked phone calls to your family, your mother agreed to bail you out.

Days later, in court, you were given a short sentence, including a travel ban for three months and house arrest for one.

"I much rather go to jail than live with my mother for four weeks," you thought to yourself, but the sentence had been handed out and, before you knew it, you were taken to where you had once lived, in the outskirts of London. 

Time seemed to slow down the moment you crossed the threshold of that Victorian house, so familiar in every fine detail that it seemed to shrink around you.

The police officer who accompanied you rang the doorbell on your behalf and, after a few moments, your sister Cliona  , whom you hadn't even spoken to in a year, opened the heavy oak door.

Her dark eyes, much like yours, narrowed at the sight of you, before dissolving into a cold, expressionless mask.

"Hi, Cliona," you greeted her, but it was clear that she wasn't interested in talking.

Her thin lips barely moved as she spoke. "Mum isn't home, but come on in," she simply said to the officer rather than you. 

Cliona's dismissive attitude was nothing new to you, but it still hurt.

You had once been close, like two peas in a pod, but she had changed somewhere along the way. Growing up, you had always been the rebel, the one who pushed boundaries and questioned authority, while she was the obedient one, always trying to please your mother.

Over the years, that gap had only widened, until it seemed like you were living on opposite ends of a vast, unbridgeable chasm.

With a resigned sigh, you stepped into the hallway which is when you saw him, for the first time in 18 months.  It was Cillian, emerging from one of the rooms at the far end of the hallway, with your little half sister Sadie clinging to his side, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his fingers.

As soon as Sadie saw you, she ran towards you , squealing with excitement, and you couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in her voice as she called out your name.

"Y/N! Y/N!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around your waist. Her laughter echoed through the expansive hallway as you stooped down to pick her up, your heart feeling warmer and softer than it had in months.

You had always kept in touch with her, and even visited her on numerous occasions, putting up with your mother for short periods of times for Sadie's sake, mostly while Cillian had been away filming.

He was a busy man and your interactions with him to date were limited.  Cillian took a step towards you, his warm smile radiating kindness.

"Welcome home, I suppose," he said with a slight chuckle, his rich voice resonating through the room. You couldn't help but blush as he looked directly into your eyes, the corners of his eyes crinkling in genuine delight at seeing you. It was a small but friendly gesture that made you feel a little better about this somewhat unfortunate situation. 

"Thanks," you mumbled, not quite sure what to say in response. You had imagined seeing him again, but there was something utterly different about him now, something that you had not noticed when you saw him last, about eighteen months ago, at your aunt's wedding. 

He had grown a little older, his hair was peppered with more silver strands, giving him an air of maturity, though his eyes seemed the same vibrant shade of blue that they had been before, sparkling with intelligence and a hint of mischief.

While you were spending some time with your little stepsister, the police officer pulled out some paperwork and what looked like an ankle monitor , informing you that this would now be a part of your daily life since it was ordered by the court for the next one month.

You couldn't help but wince at the sight of the device. It felt like an electronic handcuff latched on, but you didn't complain, knowing that it could have been much worse.

"So, I guess it's a house arrest for you now," Cliona said with a roll of her eyes, "good luck with that." 

"It's only for thirty days," the officer  interjected, clearly trying to soften the blow of the situation, "and if you follow the rules and stay out of trouble, you'll be free to go where you want after that, at least within the UK."

You couldn't help but feel a wry smile creeping up on your face, thinking about all the things you would be able to do once this house arrest was lifted.

But for now, you had to follow the rules and make the best of a less than ideal situation.

"Mr Murphy, are you happy to sign for this?"  the officer asked Cillian, handing him the paperwork related to your bail conditions. Cillian looked down at the documents, his brow furrowing slightly as he read over the terms. 

"Sure," he then said, signing his name with a flourish before looking at the monitor with disdain while the officer turned it on, causing it to light up around your ankle.

"What a strange contraption," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he handed it back to the officer who was quick to leave shortly after that.

"I should probably find my room and get unpacked before mum gets home. I know how much she hates mess," you said as soon as the officer drove off and Cillian nodded  in agreement.

"Of course, you can use your old room, it hasn't changed much," he said before picking up your large backpack and guiding you upstairs.

"You know I could have carried this, right?" you  remarked to Cillian as you watched him struggle with your backpack, his face turning slightly red with the strain.

He chuckled good-naturedly. "I know, but it's no trouble, really," he said as he adjusted the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded silently, following him as he took you to your old room, which was still located at the far end of the hallway, as it had been before.

He opened the door for you, stepping aside so you could enter first.

As you stepped over the threshold, your senses were immediately bombarded by a whirlwind of emotions – nostalgia, bitterness, and a strange undercurrent of longing.

You had spent countless nights in that room, sitting by the window, watching the stars through the cold glass, dreaming of the day when you could escape the confines of that house after finding out that your mother wanted a divorce. But then again. you were older now and none of this mattered anymore. Now, it was somewhere to sleep for the next thirty days, and, after that, you knew that you would be evaluating your options.  You left your camera bag by the door but the moment you turned around you caught Cillian's gaze, and you could have sworn that there was something tender hidden deep within the blue recesses of his eyes, like a secret too precious to be shared with the world.

"I'm glad to see that it's still the same," you muttered to yourself, as you placed your other smaller bag onto the bed. 

Cillian chuckled lightly, reminding you that he was still standing there, a few feet behind you.

"I'll let you get settled in now," he said with a warm smile. "Dinner is at seven, if you want to join us. Your mother should be home by six," Cillian added, before walking out of the room, leaving you to your own devices.

"Thank you Cillian," you called after him, letting the moment linger for a second, as a chance to catch your breathe and let your thoughts reel.

The air in the room felt heavy, the scent of old books and dust hung thick against it, like an unwelcome fog. The room was exactly how you remembered it, every piece of furniture, every painting on the walls. It was like going back in time.

"Fuck," you  muttered under your breath, as you pulled back the window curtains, revealing the oak tree that stood tall and strong outside. The view had not changed one bit and this realization was as oddly comforting as it was heartbreaking.

You ran your hand over the windowsill, recalling how you used to sit there for hours on end just watching the world go by in this quaint little town on the outskirts of London. It triggered memories of when you had first noticed your mother changing, and her new job on the set of Peaky Blinders getting the better of her. 

She was one of the production managers, young and enthusiastic, and of course, this is where she met Cillian.

It all went downhill from there, and as they got more and more involved, her behavior changed. 

But you never thought to blame him for the failure of your parents' marriage. Their marriage was doomed for years before and yet, the way she put an end to it, by starting an affair with another man, was what really irked you.

Pushing aside these thoughts of the past, you forced yourself to focus on the present and this presence included staying here, with your part of your broken family, for the next thirty days and you knew that this was going to be tough. 

And tough it was when, over dinner later that day, your mother criticized your life choices.

"You know that none of this would have happened if you had decided to live a normal life," she charged at you between bites of roast chicken and boiled potatoes. "Finishing college, finding a real job, staying out of trouble...," she continued on, and her voice was sharp and condescending.

How many times had you heard her repeat the same things, trying to mold you in her image, trying to give you the role that she had always wanted for herself? You swallowed hard, keeping your composure even as the anger boiled inside you.

"Photography is not a career. It's an art and art doesn't pay the bills," your mother added with disdain. 

"Well, art sure pays your bills, because you did not work for years and still have a roof over your head because your husband clearly earns enough money acting," you replied calmly, taking a sip of your water. You glanced at Cillian, who was sitting quietly, seemingly lost in thought. Sadie, however, was busy coloring with crayons, oblivious to the tension around her.

"That's different," your mother retorted, frowning at you. "Cillian is smart about his work while you, on the other hand, are reckless," she continued on, causing Cillian to sigh heavily. 

 "Marion, enough," he simply said, shaking his head probably taking pity in you and your current situation. "Can't we just enjoy our meal together as a family?" he then asked, and your mother huffed but said nothing more.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, with only Sadie occasionally breaking the awkward atmosphere with her chatter.

After dinner, you offered to help Cillian with the dishes, stacking the rinsed off plates 

by the sink while he loaded them into the dishwasher. As he worked, you couldn't help but notice the way his sleeves were rolled up his arms and his hands moved with ease, his fingers deftly maneuvering the utensils as he placed them in their designated spots in the dishwasher.  He had incredible hands, almost perfect, and whilst this was a small thing, it was also oddly intimate, and you felt the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you watched him.

You shook your head slightly, mentally chastising yourself for reacting in such a way.

Cillian was your stepfather, nothing more, and yet there was no denying the way your heart skipped a beat when his hand brushed against yours as you both reached for the same dish.

He smiled at you as he caught you looking, and your face flushed with heat.

"Thanks for helping me with these," Cillian then said as he closed the dishwasher with a soft click. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel and turned to face you, his eyes finding yours. "And, you know, I'm sorry about the whole house arrest thing. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just let me know."

His words caught you off guard. It had been a long time since anyone had extended their help to you without expecting something in return. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Thank you," you finally managed to say. "But it's fine," you nodded. "Thank you for letting me stay here,"  you added astutely, trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

Cillian gave a slight smile, "Of course," he then said before

turning to walk back towards the living room. "I better go keep your mother company," he said, pausing for a moment before adding, "And, I meant what I just said about the house arrest, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask me."

Left alone in the kitchen, you couldn't help but replay that moment over and over again in your mind. You tried to shake it off as just a kind gesture and not something more, but something about the way he looked at you left you questioning yourself, leaving a strange flutter in your chest.

Shaking of these thoughts, you went to your room in order to find something to read or maybe even draw. But of course, your mother had got rid of most of your art supplies when you moved out, claiming that it was all just a waste of money.

Thus, after you got changed into a singlet and some PJ shorts, you made your way back downstairs, recalling a few large shelves stacked with books in the study, which was locate right next to the living room.

Cillian was still sitting with your mother on a comfortable couch but, much to your surprise, there was a large gap between them. He was reading a book while she watched some reality TV show with her uncritical gaze.

When you entered the room, Cillian looked up from his book and his eyes were immediately drawn to you, taking in your form, even though there was nothing particularly sexy about what you were wearing.

He felt the heat grow in his chest, dimming his thoughts and distracting him from the lines of text that he had been attempting to read which, to him, was a strange sensation and not one he had expected. 

Thinking that you had gone unnoticed, you walked into the study and towards one of the large bookshelves before flicking through the spines of the countless novels stacked up haphazardly along the rows.

But then, suddenly, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.

"Can't find anything interesting?" Cillian asked, making you jump and drop the book you had been holding in your hands and, almost simultaneously, you dropped to your knees to pick it up, your heads bumping into each other. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, your hands flying up to your forehead instinctively as you tried to steady the pounding that had started there.

"No, it's my fault," Cillian apologized, his voice close behind you and he put his hand on your shoulder, causing tingles to run down your spine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said as you turned and looked up at him, your eyes meeting briefly.

"I was trying to find a novel and, god, there are so many to choose from in here," you added, gesturing towards the towering bookshelf that seemed to stretch up towards the high ceiling.

Cillian chuckled, "Well, I do read a lot, but don't worry, I can give you a few recommendations if you want them," he said, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"I would love some recommendations, actually," you said, your face lighting up. "Something about, I don't know, human nature I suppose. I love reading stories about conflicted individuals or history," you said, with a light shrug of your shoulders.

Cillian smiled at your answer, "Did you read the Grass Arena?" he asked, his voice full of curiosity.

You nodded, "Yes, I did. The story was dark but tantalizing," you mentioned, leaving Cillian a little surprised.  "I think it's really good book," you smiled, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

 "A really good book huh?" he echoed, a gentle laugh escaping his lips. "It's one of the best, I think. John Healy's work should be regarded as an invaluable contribution to literature," he declared, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, momentarily getting lost in his bright blue eyes.

"Okay, I agree. It's probably in my top ten," you whispered, before shaking yourself out of your trance-like state, adding, "So, any other recommendations then?"

Cillian nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he guided you towards a different bookshelf.

"I think you might like this one," he said as he pulled out a tattered copy of 'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac, the pages yellowed with age. "I know it's a classic, but it's always a good read and you love travelling, so if you haven't read it yet, you should," he added, his voice full of warmth.

You took the book from him gratefully while inadvertently brushing against his hand. Your palms grew warm and tingly, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes. Cillian's eyes locked with yours and there was a charge between you, a current thrumming beneath the surface that tickled your skin.

"Uhm, thank you ," you mumbled, sliding the book from his grip and stepping back. He nodded, seeming to understand the sudden need for space.

"Sure thing," he said, before turning to head back to the living room. "Goodnight, Y/N," he told you and you nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart before tucking the book under your arm and heading to your bedroom.

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[boothillssugarmomma]

Consequences and a Wedding

(Wriothesley x Fem! Reader)

cw-: ANGST HELLA ANGST, one sided love, best friends to strangers, marriage!, pregnancy and childbirth mentioned!, tears, Neuvillette mentioned!

🎀 authorsnote: literally cried halfway through this so enjoy fr

please don't steal my work!

Taglist🎀Genshin Master list🎀Other Lists🎀

Wriothesley and you have been friends for years, being locked up in the Fortress together and being closely the same age, you stuck to each other like glue.

Now everythings different, still best friends, but you moved to the surface..and fell for Monsieur Neuvillette. Wriothesley disliked this but never spoke on it, he just wanted his girl to be happy.

Even if she didn't know how he felt..

On one of your regularly scheduled hangouts with Wriothesley he brought up that a Melusine had reported seeing you and your...boyfriend...around the Opera House the other evening.

"Oh yes!" You beam with excitement. "Monsieur Neuvillette proposed!" You shake his arm, squealing into the night air.

“He proposed to you?” He quickly looks at your hand, looking for a ring. Once he spots it, he feels like he's been punched in the stomach..

He sighs. “And you said…?”

Gazing into your pretty eyes...god how they sparkle. No. Not now Wriothesley. Focus.

"I obviously said YES! I mean the opportunity doesn't come along everyday!" You sigh happily after.

He takes a deep breath before replying, trying to sound as monotone as possible. “…Congratulations.”

Every part of him was SCREAMING to tell you, tell you how he always wanted to be the one by your side, to propose, to marry you, to have kids with you. But he can’t bring himself to say any of that. Instead he continues. “Whens the wedding?”

"Nine months!" You chirp happily, twisting your ring on your finger. Your hair blows a bit in the wind.

“Nine months?” He tries to be as nonchalant as possible. “That’s… pretty soon.”

He looks at the ring one more time. It’s actually a very pretty ring. It suits you. He looks away, gazing over the hilltop you both were sitting on.

After a small pause of silence, all silent except for the small chirps and noises from the nighttime wildlife. You break the silence.

"You'll come right?"

He looks at your eyes. They look…excited about the whole thing. A part of himself wishes to destroy that excitement, to tell you that he doesn’t want to go, that he doesn’t want you to marry someone else.

He sighs. He could never say that to you. “Of course. How could I not go?”

Your mouth curls into a smile. "See I knew you'd understand..."

Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush.

He puts an arm around your waist awkwardly. A part of him would love to hold you forever, but the other part tells him it’s wrong. That he can’t do this, can’t get that close. That doesn’t stop him from savoring the moment, though.

Wriothesley lets out a small chuckle as he looks away. “Why wouldn’t I understand?”

"Neuvillette said you'd probably be upset. But I don't know why." You sigh softly with a confused expression on your face.

You looked so cute like that..

NO. Nuh uh Wriothesley, get it together!

"Is it cuz I'm getting married before you? Because Wriothesley believe me someone WILL marry you!" You pat his chest with your hand.

He couldn’t help but laugh at your last statement, amused by how confident you sound while saying such a thing. He smiles, still looking away.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, chuckling again, then sighed. “I don’t really care much about that. And I’m not upset, I assure you. I just…” He paused, like he’s thinking of what words to use next. “I just…want you to be happy.”

"You're a great friend Wrio..." You smile gently. "Wait wait!" You squeal, pulling away to stand in front of him before grabbing his arms. "Instead of a maid of honor I want you!"

Great…friend. Why does hearing that word hurt him so badly? He puts on a soft smile while looking at you once again.

"You’d want me to be your maid of honor?" He raised a brow jokingly.

You nod excitedly. "YEAH!" Jumping up and down, shaking him a bit in the process. "Wrio PLEASEEE!"

He watches your cute expression, as you jump, smile and look at him with those pleading eyes. He laughs at your excitement and shakes his head.

"Archons…fine. I accept."

You hug him crushingly tight before pressing a harsh kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, thank you!"

His eyes widen for a moment, not expecting the sudden hug. It takes a moment before he relaxes, putting his arms back around your body.

He smiled and let out a small laugh once again, feeling your warmth against him. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment. He then said in a sarcastic tone. "You’re gonna be the death of me…"

You let out a 'pfft' sound and roll your eyes. "Ahhh you know you love me~" You smirk teasingly.

He chuckled at your comment.

“Love” huh? If only you knew.

He then jokingly replied. “You’re a menace. You know that?”

You take his hands with a playful smile. "Yeah ok Wriothesley..."

He tries to pretend he isn’t affected by your smile or by you holding his hands. But his heart beats uncontrollably fast under his chest.

He looks down at your hands. Such small hands in his much bigger ones. He feels a sudden urge to close his fingers around yours, hold your hands tighter, never let you go.

"Ok now I have to go.." You sigh softly. "Neuvillette will be wondering why I'm home so late..."

Right. Neuvillette. He forgot about him for a short moment. Now being reminded of it, he felt that familiar feeling of jealousy again.

He swallowed before talking, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Yeah, I suppose you should go.”

"Same time next week?" You hold your pinky up with a glint in your eyes.

A small smile formed on his lips the moment he sees your cute, silly gesture, which he gladly returned with his own pinky, hooking yours on it. “Sure. Same time next week."

You let go of his pinky and walk off, looking over your shoulder to wave bye.

He watches you walk away, unable to take his eyes off you. Your figure, your hair flowing, the way you wave at him..he memorized every single detail. It’s not until you’re gone that he lets out a small sigh.

How is he going to watch you get married to someone else..and the Chief Justice no less...

That night he has the worst nightmares. Now others can say falling in your dreams or getting chased in them or natural disasters are the worst nightmares to have. But no. Wriothesleys was coming to terms with the fact you were getting married.

Not to him...

He tossed and turned in his sleep, dreaming nightmares. Nightmares of you, dreaming about you in a beautiful white wedding dress, walking down the aisle to the man waiting for you.

That stupid fucking judge...

You look joyful, happy, excited…and he can’t do anything. Nothing but watch you from afar, as you reach your destination and that horrible man holds your hands in his.

He CAN'T let that happen.

That single thought wakes him up from the dream. He gasps as he sits up on the bed, breathing heavily. He couldn’t do anything in the dream, but…could it be different in reality? He clenched his fists, determined to do something about it.

Days, weeks, and months fly by. The amount of times he had almost told you how he felt...yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. So now here he is, standing in the corner of the bridal room, watching you get ready to be wed to another man.

He tries to look calm, hiding how nervous he actually was. You look absolutely stunning in that wedding dress, but it only serves to remind him of the nightmare he had. Seeing you this close but not being able to stop you as you get ready to walk down the aisle, it felt like torture.

He takes a deep breath before speaking up, not looking at you directly. “You look… beautiful.”

Your eyes light up as you gaze at him in the mirror you were doing your hair in. "You promise?"

His heart skips a beat when you look at him through the mirror. He almost lost his composure for a moment, but he managed to reply with a smile. “Why do you even have to ask? Of course I mean it.”

As he watches you straighten your dress and take a deep breath you nibble your bottom lip. "Do you think Neuvillette will like it?" You whisper worriedly.

His grip on his tie tightened. The mention of that name irritates him, yet he puts on a fake smile.

“He’d be a fool if he doesn’t.”

Wriothesley keeps watching you with loving eyes that go unnoticed. Watching you being so excited about wedding, listening to you gush over Neuvillette, it makes his heart ache.

Eventually, when you start fixing your hair, he swallows before speaking up. “Can I say something?”

You just nod with a smile. Acknowledging him with a small hum.

He was about to say it, about to ask you to reconsider marrying that man. Then he looked at your smile, the way it lights up your entire face. Archons, you’re too beautiful…

But he has to say it. He has to make his feelings known, or he’d regret it forever.

He takes a deep breath, clenching his fists tightly. “Don’t marry him.”

..

...

....

The room plunges into a silence. Deadly quiet, you could probably hear a seam rip. He glances at the mirror at your fallen smile.

"...What?" You turn in your seat to face him.

Seeing the confused, hurt look on your face is almost too much for him to bear.

He stood up, looking straight into your eyes. He’ll say it even if you end up hating him.

“I…I don’t want you to marry him. I don’t want you to marry anyone, actually.”

He paused, taking a shaky breath. This is it. His one and only chance. “I…I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long, long time.”

..

...

....

You stand up, eyes narrowing with anger and something else he can't detect. He could care less...you look PISSED.

His heart beats even faster. He can’t tell what’s going on inside your head, your expression is neutral now, showing him no signs of what you’re feeling. He swallows and continues speaking, slowly, like he’s thinking each word carefully.

“I know I…I know I have no right to tell you not to marry someone else. This is your life and you can choose who you want to spend it with…But I couldn’t just stand and watch, as you marry someone else, without telling…without telling you how I really feel about you.”

You take a deep breath and fold your hands together. "Wriothesley. You had ALL the time in Teyvat to tell me this."  Your whisper is deadly.

His shoulders lower, feeling the guilt of his own cowardness.

He looked down, unable to look into your eyes, before saying quietly in a guilt-ridden voice. “I know. I know. I should’ve said it sooner. I meant to, many times. But I… couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was… afraid.”

"You could've told me BEFORE Neuvillette!" You snap at him. Wriothesley flinches back a bit, you've never snapped at him.

“I know that too…!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice as well. “I know that. Archons, I’ve been beating myself up ever since the moment you told me you were dating him, asking myself why I didn’t just confess before all of this. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you, even as a friend. I…I was a goddamn coward.”

"Wriothesley this is bullshit!" You raise your voice again. Which causes him to do the same.

His usual calm and composed demeanor was long gone. He was yelling too, his voice filling the entire room. He’s glad the guests have moved to the cathedral and there’s no one else left in this room except you two.

He takes a deep, shaky breath trying to gather his thoughts and spoke again, his voice still rising in anger.

“You think I don’t know that?! You think I don’t regret the fact that I didn’t tell you sooner, that I didn’t tell you before you met Neuvillette?!”

You clap your hands together and grind your teeth together. "You think this is APPROPRIATE to tell me at my fucking WEDDING!?" You shout in his face.

“No! I know it’s not appropriate! I know it’s too late! I know you’ve made up your mind and I know this is horrible timing! But if I didn’t say it, I’d regret it forever!”

His voice was getting louder and louder. “You think I can watch you get married to him and pretend like I’m so happy for you? I’d be torturing myself!”

You just stare in shock and anger. "You...you can go!"

He paused to catch his breath. His heart was still beating fast from all the yelling, but his eyes widened at your words.

“What?” He said, in a much quieter voice. Is that what he heard right? Is she...asking him to leave? The same person who was so happy to have him as her 'maid' of honor, not less than an hour ago? “You’re… telling me to go?”

You turn away for a minute. "Get OUT." A dark whisper. And it shatters him.

Wriothesley went quiet. He couldn’t believe he’s actually being thrown out, by you, the person he loved. Then, another feeling hit him, making him want to punch something.

Never. Never in front of you.

“So…that’s it? That’s all I get?” He said, his voice rising again. “I pour out my feelings for you, right when you’re about to get married, and you…just tell me to get out?”

You let out a broken laugh and turn to him. "I'm getting married! Wriothesley." You swallow. "Did you even HEAR yourself?"

“And I know that! But by the hydro archon, it’s like you don’t even care I’m hurting! I’m trying to tell you I love you, and you’re acting like it’s nothing, like you don’t care!”

He almost yelled by the end of the sentence, all the stress and anger building up together now that he’s finally letting out what he’s been feeling. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to fight the tears that started welling up in his eyes.

You take a deep breath. "You." You begin before biting your lip. "I can't believe you..."

He’s expecting some other mean words from you, words that’ll make him even angrier. He’s expecting another argument, but he didn’t expect to hear your own voice crack suddenly. He paused, looking back at you.

“You can’t believe me?” He asked, confusion and anger lacing his voice. “You can’t believe I have feelings for you? Why can't you…I’ve been loving you for years!”

You shake your head, blinking, so tears won't shed. "Wriothesley. Archons..I loved you." You whisper.

He wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. His anger fades away, his heart beating fast once again, but for a different reason.

“You…You what?” His voice went unusually quieter. Did he hear you right? Is this a dream? An imagination? Is all the stress getting to him?

"For years...so many!" You whisper. "And then you never expressed them back."

Wriothesley stared at you with widened eyes, his brain having trouble processing what you just said. He couldn’t believe it. You…loved him? The whole time? Then that’d mean…that’d mean he should’ve said it sooner, he should’ve told you a long, long time ago.

He slowly moved closer to you. “You…you really loved me?”

The room goes a bit quiet again. Guests shuffling by and then the noise disappears. 

"Yes." You whisper. "But...I moved on."

“Moved on’ ” was the part that broke his heart. He clenched his fists, looking down. He was too late, and now he’s going to lose you. All of it because he’s a coward who didn’t dare tell you how he felt.

“You don’t love me anymore.” He said, speaking barely louder than a whisper, as if he’s trying to make sure those words aren’t true.

You both pause as the church bells go off. The bells signaled that the wedding is going to start. He knew the guests had probably taken their seats already. Neuvillette is waiting for you, down at the aisle. But he still couldn’t bring himself to just let you go, not after having this conversation.

He took a few more steps, now standing in front of you, looking down at you. The pain in his heart became unbearable.

“Please, don’t marry him…"

You blink away a tear and swallow, reaching out to hold his hands. "Stay or go Wriothesley. But I'm marrying him."

The moment you held his hand his heart hurt even more. This is it. You’re marrying another man. The thought of it hurts his heart so badly he almost couldn’t breathe.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at your hand on his, before speaking quietly.

“If I…if I can’t change your mind…Will you at least allow me one selfish request before the wedding?”

You hesitate before nodding. Time ticking down.

He closed his eyes, mentally bracing himself. This is the most selfish thing to ask for yet he wanted, no, no… he needed it so badly. He took a deep breath before speaking, looking directly into your eyes.

“Can I…kiss you?…at least once, before you walk down that aisle?”

God those eyes..

As they widen and you stammer he can't help but crack the ghost of a smile, before you calm down and sigh. "This doesn't leave this room.." You whisper.

His heart skipped a beat at your answer. By the seven, it’s like he has never felt so relieved and hopeful at the same time. You finally said yes. He couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world for a moment.

He moved even closer, towering over you. He held your chin with one hand, tilting your head upwards to look at him. His other hand was on your hip.

“Promise.” He said, before leaning down to kiss you softly.

He felt like he was on cloud nine when your lips met his. After so many times of imagining what it would feel like to kiss you, finally feeling your soft lips against his makes his heart beat even faster.

He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep kissing you more and more, but he finally pulled away when you did. It took a few seconds for him to recover from the shock, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Why?” He asked quietly.

"That was wrong Wriothesley." You whisper, rubbing your lipgloss off before reapplying it.

“Wrong?…”

The way you said it stung a little. He knew it was wrong because you’re engaged to someone else, but he’s pretty sure the kiss wasn’t wrong itself. The kiss was absolutely perfect for him, and he had to swallow the protest already on the tip of his tongue.

He stayed silent for a beat, before speaking again. His voice sounded frustrated.

“Why did you agree then?”

"I..I don't know!" You whisper frustrated and flustered, face burning with embarrassment and worry.

He watched you frustrated, still standing in front of you. If he’s being honest, it’s making him frustrated too. You didn’t seem to know what you want, what you’re doing, and by the seven, it’s driving him crazy. Why did you let him kiss you if you believe it’s wrong? And why did you allow him that selfish request in the first place if you don’t even know why?

He stepped even closer, holding your chin again, tilting your head upwards.

“Answer me something…”

You swallow your worries and nod for him to ask.

He leaned down a little, looking directly into your eyes. His voice was quiet and low, filled with mixture of pain, frustration and maybe a hint of hope.

“When you kissed me back, did you feel it?...”

You gaze into his eyes. "Feel what."

It took all his self-restraint not to pull you into a kiss again. He looked at you, his eyes darkened a little.

“Feel…anything.” He swallowed before continuing, his voice getting slightly quieter. “Anything at all….”

"No." You whisper almost immediately. The icy tone in your voice pierces his heart.

It felt like a cold shower was poured onto him. He knew you’re lying. He’s certain you did feel something. You must have. He’s sure you didn’t kiss him for nothing. He stared at you for few seconds, before finally letting anger take over.

“You’re lying.” He said, almost gritting his teeth.

You take a deep breath and shakily swallow. "I-I must go now."

He gripped your hip a little tighter, preventing you from walking past him.

“No, no, you’re not going anywhere. Not until you tell me the truth.” He said, in a firm and slightly commanding tone.

"Wriothesley.." You meet his gaze again and he sees it. Love. But...not for him.

He hates that he sees the love in your eyes and it hurts him. He didn’t want to accept it, didn’t want to believe what he was seeing, but it’s impossible to lie to himself. That look in your eyes only confirms what he already knows, and it’s making his heart hurt so badly.

But he’s going to push it further. Just this once, he’ll force it out of you. He tightens his grip on your hip a little more, almost enough to leave a mark.

“Say it. Say it out loud.”

"I love Neuvillette..not you.." You whisper, voice cracking a bit.

He already knew it. He knew you don’t love him. The way you’re acting, the look in your eyes were all enough clues for him to know the truth. But…but hearing you say it out loud, so easily without hesitation, it’s like another kind of pain.

He was still holding his ground. He’s not letting you go yet. Not until he says his own thoughts out loud as well.

“Then why did you let me kiss you?"

"Closure..." You whisper sadly.

‘Closure’? It’s like a stab through his heart. Closure. Of course that’s all he’s going to get, a ‘goodbye’ kiss to finally get the closure you need. He couldn’t believe it. You don’t love him, this was all just a ‘closure’ kiss for you. He took a shaky breath and almost whispered.

“Just… closure…then?”

You just nod gently.

He doesn’t know what part of him expected something different. He doesn’t know why his heart still hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d realized your feelings toward him were stronger than you believed. He let out a bitter and dry chuckle. Closure. That’s what you want, and that’s what you’re going to get.

He took a few more seconds to control his emotions, before speaking quietly in a low, dark voice.

“And is this going to be the only closure I get?”

You look into his eyes, sadness in them this time. "Watch me get married at least?" You whisper.

But he knows he can't

His heart ached at the thought of it. The pain of seeing you walk down that aisle, marrying another man, a man that’s not him, will be unbearable. He can’t do it. He can’t make himself watch you marry Neuvillette and act like nothing was wrong, like everything will just go back to normal after you tie the knot. He just can’t.

He swallowed. If he can’t watch you get married, then he’s going to let you go in a different way.

The duke suddenly stepped away, taking his hand off your hip and letting you go. His voice took on another commanding tone. He’s trying to keep his voice steady and firm, even though the pain was almost unbearable.

“Go…” He said, gesturing towards the door. “Go…and go marry...him...like you’re supposed to.”

You smile sadly. "I hope to see you out there.." Hugging him tightly, holding on a little too long before breaking apart and leaving. Glancing back to blink a tear away before disappearing from his view.

It took all his self-restraint not to pull you into a tight embrace and stop you from walking away. He had to do this for the sake of his own heart, even though his soul was screaming at him to not let you go, to stop you and just pull you to him, maybe even lock the door so you won’t leave.

But he didn’t do any of that. He just watched you give him one last sad smile before you hug him. He closed his eyes, not returning the hug, letting himself enjoy the last bit of contact between the two of you.

He can hear everything from behind the door. The bells, the music, the voices of the guests, people waiting for the ceremony to start.

And he hates it. He can’t stand the thought of you walking down the aisle, smiling at Neuvillette, holding his hands, making promises to stay with him forever. To be with another man, a man that’s not him.

He leans against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to block out all the noise.

The tall man tried to hold on as best as he could, but he just couldn’t. He had to take a look. He’ll never get another chance, after all. He slowly opened the door, peeking through the gap, trying not to attract attention. He just had to see you.

The moment he saw you, all beautiful and radiant in your wedding gown, it’s like something broke in his heart. You’re walking towards Neuvillette, your smile bright and happy as you approach the altar. It’s like a dagger, twisting slowly inside his heart. This is really happening.

You’re going to marry him...

He sees you exchanging the vows, watching from afar with a heavy heart. The pain is almost unbearable now, watching you commit your life to another man. He’s not the type to show his vulnerability in public, but he can’t help but grip the edge of the door harder, trying to keep himself composed as his heart breaks into pieces in the process.

Our eyes meet, and for a second your voice breaks in the middle of the vows. But you quickly fix it. Looking away from him.

He held onto the door tighter as your voice broke. You looked straight at him when it happened, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip when your eyes meet. But then you immediately looked away and continued with the vows, leaving him stunned.

You saw him, you’re the one whose eyes lingered on him for a long moment, only pulling away because you have to finish the ceremony. Why do you look at him like that when you’re about to marry another man?

He can hear the priest going through the final part of the ceremony, asking you and Neuvillette say the last few words, saying ‘I do’. His heart hurt so badly that it’s almost hard to breathe. It’s over. You’ll now be married. You’ll now be a wife, a wife to another man...

"Do you. Take Neuvillette to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest smiles. You swallow and glance at Wriothesley before looking into Neuvillettes eyes.

"I do."

He stared at you as you said those words. His knuckles almost whitened with how hard he’s gripping the door, wishing he could just burst through and stop you… but he stayed. He stayed, and the only thing he could do is to watch, the pain overwhelming his heart and leaving him breathless.

He stayed silent as the priest proclaimed the wedding done, declaring that you and Neuvillette are now a husband and a wife, legally bound to each other forever… forever. The finality of it all left a bitter taste in his mouth. It’s over, for good. There’s no turning back now. You’re a married woman now. You’re no longer his, and it stings to realize it.

You and Wriothesley lost contact after the wedding. He holed himself up in The Fortress of Meropide, went back to being just an underworld dweller. Ten years had passed, and Clorinde had convinced him to visit the surface.

He had asked her over the years to update him on your life. But she refused. Not wanting him to worry about it.

Ten years might have passed, but the pain hasn’t diminished in the slightest. It’s dulled a little, but the memories of what happened that day still haunt him to this day, leaving a deep ache in his heart every time he thinks about you.

He’s doing a bit better now, or at least he’s trying to convince himself that way. He threw himself into his work, trying to find some kind of distraction, but none seemed to be enough to fully make him forget you.

When he finally goes up to visit  Fontaine's surface...for the first time in ten years...his heart stops as he hears a familiar voice near the Opera House.

It’s been ten years, but he recognized your voice immediately. He froze as he turned towards the source of the voice, feeling a sudden rush of emotions. Excitement, happiness, dread, worry, all mixed up into a messy bundle. It’s you. You’re here, for the first time in years.

You're holding a baby in a baby carrier, a grocery bag in the other hand. "Daddy will be happy to see you sweetheart~" You giggle at the baby.

He could barely believe his eyes. You’re here, and you’re holding a baby. As he observed you, the realization hit him. You’re a mother now. The thought sent a strange mix of emotions through him, a mix of happiness, sadness, and a sprinkle of jealousy.

The baby babbles and coos with excitement as you hand it a small toy.

He couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you. You seem so relaxed, so at peace, holding your baby. You’re such a wonderful mother. He tried to push down the thoughts of him in Neuvillette’s place, standing beside you as you hold your child, but it’s almost impossible to keep it from popping up in his head.

His heart sank as he saw Neuvillette walking towards you, a small smile on his face as he finally catches up with you. He instinctively stepped back to stay hidden, watching you both with a mixture of emotions. It’s bittersweet, watching you with your husband and your child, knowing it could have been HIM if things were different…if only he was a little more brave...

He watched bitterly as you and Neuvillette exchanged a kiss, unable to look away. Seeing the two of you again, together, happily married with a child, makes the pain he was trying to push away come back, worse than ever before. The realization that you’re forever out of reach hurts even more now that he can see you right before him again.

As we walk past Wriothesley you don't even look. He doesn't even know if you recognized him.

He felt a pang of hurt as you walked past him without noticing him at all. Not even a single glance in his direction. He didn’t know if you didn’t recognize him or just didn’t bother to look, but the message is clear. You don’t care about him and you don’t plan to anymore. The realization stung, like a bitter pill he had to swallow.

He noticed you dropped something, a toy that your baby was playing with. He was reluctant to interfere, knowing he has no place in your life anymore. But the sight of you walking away with your child, unaware of the toy, tugged at his heartstrings. He took a deep breath, gathering what little courage he had, before reluctantly calling out to you.

“Hey…” He called out, trying to keep his voice steady as he called out to you from behind. He could feel his heart racing as he spoke, the anxiety of talking to you again after so many years and the fear of getting ignored leaving him on the edge.

You turn and laugh nervously. "Oh Gods sorry!" You hand the grocery bag to Neuvillette and take the toy from Wriothesley. "Thank you so-" You cut off as you meet his icy blue eyes.

He stood there, looking at you, his heart hammering in his chest as your eyes met his. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to speak. Seeing you up close, those eyes, that smile, still the same despite the years that passed, it’s almost like he’s transported back in time before everything happened, before he lost you.

You don't acknowledge it as you clear your throat. "Thank you.."

He nods gently in response, still trying to gather his thoughts. Your casual tone almost stung, as if you don’t remember anything about their past. He took a shaky breath and forced himself to speak again.

“You’re…you’re welcome…” He said, his voice slightly unsteady.

He watches as you turn and move back to your place beside Neuvillette, his heart sinking just a little further as you don’t even look back at him. It’s like talking to a stranger. Or maybe that’s exactly what you two are now.

He let out a soft exhale, shoving his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from making a mistake by grabbing your hand and pulling you close.

His heart clenched as he watched you and Neuvillette walking together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The sight of you both, with your child, the family you’ve built together, it’s like a dagger digging deeper into his already shattered heart. It’s like a constant reminder of what could have been for him if things were different…if he wasn’t so cowardly and actually told you his feelings before it was too late.

What could've been...

🎀End🎀

[digitalstowaway]

Obsessed with AUs where wwx is a fox spirit but may I propose an additional idea?

wwx is just an ordinary cultivator but the Lan elders think he's a fox spirit

It's surely the only way he was able to seduce lwj. There's no way lwj would behave this way with an ordinary man.

Lan Qiren has to have monthly meetings on this where he reassures elders over and over that no, Wei Wuxian is not a fox spirit. No, he is not stealing Wangji's yang or qi. Yes, he is causing disturbances but that's because he's a disobedient, dishonorable delinquent. And please stop trying to find fox dens to destroy. It's ruining the landscape of Cloud Recesses and harming local wildlife.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twelve: Justice

Chapter WC: 11,285

Chapter Tags/Warnings: war stuff, description of blood/injuries

A/N: angst? happening. plot? developing. romance? uhhhhh

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Saleucami, 21 BBY

Dorin, Geonosis, and now Saleucami. It's been a series of defeats and close calls, and the losses have been mounting. You're running on fumes, and the exhaustion is starting to catch up with you. 

The plan to rescue Master Koth from General Grievous had fallen apart as soon as the mission started, and now, you and Obi-Wan were racing to make things right. Anakin was still in orbit, fighting off the Separatist fleet, while you and Obi-Wan were on the ground in pursuit of General Grievous. Somehow, you'd been given command of the 501st, and even though it was technically only temporary, it still felt good to have his presence at your side again. Especially after the last few missions.

Tracking is tedious work, and your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from the naval battle. You stand off to the side as Obi-Wan's men sift through the wreckage of the landing transport, but you know as well as he does that neither Grievous nor his droids are among the debris.

You stand on the back of an AT-TE, binocs in hand, scanning the horizon for signs of movement. But, the area is eerily quiet, and there's no sign of the enemy. Even the wildlife is silent, as if sensing the danger. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you take in a shuddering breath.

"Thermal housing intakes are still warm. This couldn't have happened too long ago," Cody announces, and the men murmur in agreement.

"The crew compartment's almost entirely destroyed," Rex adds, his gaze shifting up to meet yours. You leap off the walker to stand beside him, the ground uneven beneath your feet, and his hand comes up automatically to steady you.

You ignore the tingle of warmth where his gloved hand touches yours, and you turn your attention to the wreckage. "They can't have gotten far on foot."

"We'll split into teams," Obi-Wan announces, his gaze sweeping over the assembled men, and you nod.

"Rex, take Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix and search the wetlands," you order. "We'll stay on this path and cover more ground."

"Yes sir," Rex says. He signals the other clones, and the four of them break away from the group, heading toward the land speeders

"Be careful," you call after him, unable to stop yourself.

He looks back, and there's a faint smile on his lips.

"Always, sir," he promises before he turns and climbs into a speeder, securing his helmet over his head. The engines roar to life, and the three speeders zoom off. You watch as they disappear over the crest of the hill and let out a long breath.

Rex is more than capable, but you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. The ominous dreams of golden fields and smoke have grown worse over the last few weeks, and it's only a matter of time before the visions begin to manifest in reality.

The feeling doesn't go away. It only grows stronger the further you get from the wreckage. Something is wrong. You can feel it, and it makes you uneasy.

Obi-Wan must sense your unease, because he stops and turns to face you, his eyes searching your face. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he squeezes gently. "Don't worry, my dear. They'll be fine."

"Rex is a smart man," Cody adds. "He knows how to handle himself."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan nods, and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Always thinking on his feet."

"Yeah."

You let out a sigh, and Cody gives you a knowing look. He tilts his head, and his voice drops low. "Sir, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No," you say, and his brow furrows, his expression skeptical. You scowl at him, and he just smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes," you retort, your voice firm. You fix him with a flat look, but you can't quite stop the flush creeping into your cheeks. Cody raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch. You roll your eyes. "I don't know. I can't explain it, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"Well, that makes two of us," Obi-Wan remarks dryly.

"Three," Cody adds. He shakes his head and shrugs. "We should get moving. We don't have time for a debate."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan replies. Cody gives a nod and moves off, leaving the two of you to stand and watch as the men poke through the wreckage. He sighs, his expression grim, and he glances up at the sky. "I hope Anakin is alright. He was in quite a mood when we left."

You huff. "He doesn't like losing."

"No he doesn't. And neither do you," Obi-Wan says, his expression thoughtful. He's silent for a moment, his brow furrowed, and his gaze shifts back to you. "How are you feeling?"

"What?"

"Well, it's been some time since we've had a chance to talk," he starts. His eyes are sharp, his expression serious, and he tilts his head, scrutinizing your face. "I know the past few weeks have been...difficult. We've all been under a lot of strain. But I haven't had the chance to check in with you."

"I'm fine, Obi-Wan," you say, trying to reassure him, but the words feel hollow. He gives you a long, doubtful look, and you let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm tired. Really tired. But, I'm fine. Honest."

"Good."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Fine," you echo. You tilt your head and give him a wry smile. "Are we ever going to actually talk about how we feel?"

"We did," he points out. "And if I recall, it did not go well."

"No, it didn't," you admit. You snort, and you lean against the walker, resting your elbows on the metal hull. Not going well was generous.

"Do you think we should try again?" he asks. His mouth twitches, and he gives a pointed glance at Cody, who's standing a short distance away. The Commander's back is to the two of you, and his gaze is fixed on the men. "Now might be a good time."

"You're joking." At his raised eyebrow, you let out a groan and run a hand through your hair. Your voice drops to a low hiss. "You want to talk about一about the kiss? Here?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, and his cheeks flush pink. He glances at Cody again and clears his throat, lowering his voice. "No, no, that's not what I meant."

"Oh."

"I mean, if you'd like to talk about that, we can. We should," he adds quickly. "But, that's not why I asked."

"Then, what did you mean?"

"Well, it's just that—”

A shout from one of the men draws both your attention, and you stand on the tip of your toes, trying to see what's going on. You can't quite make out what they're saying, but they're excited, their voices loud and eager.

"General, we found something," Cody shouts. He jogs over to you, and Obi-Wan steps forward, meeting him halfway. You follow after, trying to keep up, and you push down the unease that's rising in your chest.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asks.

Cody points down to another escape pod. Behind the glass lies a droid, frozen and lifeless. "Still intact."

"We'll interrogate it on the go," Obi-Wan says. The Commander gives a quick nod and signals the men, who move forward and begin to batter the glass with the ends of their rifles. He glances at you and offers a tight smile. "Well, at least we have something to work with."

"Yeah."

"Try to stay positive, my dear," Obi-Wan says. The glass shatters, and two troopers move to drag the droid out. It's disassembled and shoved into a pack within seconds, and the two of you give the order to the battalions to set off once more.

The landscape is barren and bleak, and the heat is oppressive. It's a stark contrast to the cold of space, and the wind blows your hair as the AT-TE rumbles along.

You stare at the horizon, hoping that, maybe, you'll see the other team, but the sight does nothing to ease your anxiety. The weight of your armor feels heavier than usual, and your body is aching, your muscles tense and sore.

Your gaze drifts down to the ground, and you can't shake the feeling of dread that's beginning to creep over you. It's the same feeling from Felucia, from Geonosis and from a dozen other battles. A touch of something at the back of your mind, a faint ripple in the Force that threatens to pull you under.

You close your eyes, and you let out a slow breath. You don't need the Force to tell you something is wrong. Your instincts are more than enough, and right now, they're screaming at you.

"Perhaps we should split up," you suggest suddenly, opening your eyes and turning to Obi-Wan.

"Split up?" he repeats, his eyebrows arching. He looks amused, but there's a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, and his brow furrows. "Whatever for?"

"We could cover more ground that way," you say, trying to keep your voice light. You shrug and turn away from him, your eyes on the horizon. "A small team could move faster. More discreet."

"I suppose that's true," he muses, but his tone is dubious. "But, I don't want to risk一"

"Risk what?" you press. You look at him, and his lips press together, his expression tight. "It's not a terrible idea, and you know it. We're running out of time."

"I know," he says with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. I'll take the western sector, and you take a squad to the east."

"Understood," you say. Your shoulders slump with relief, and you offer him a smile. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

He nods and smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's a tension in the lines around his mouth, and you can feel his worry.

"Just, please, be careful," he warns. "Don't take any unnecessary risks. And if you encounter General Grievous, do not engage. Understood?"

"Yes, yes," you say, waving a hand dismissively. You leap off the walker and land, dirt flying up around your boots. You cup a hand around your mouth to shout up at him. "I'll see you soon!”

"Make sure you're not followed!"

"I'm not a complete idiot," you mutter under your breath, and you glance back to see Obi-Wan watching you, his arms crossed over his chest. You know he heard you, and you can feel his frustration through the Force.

You consider giving a rude gesture, but you salute instead, and he shakes his head, his expression resigned. You smirk and turn around, looking for a familiar pair in blue armor. 

"Fives, Echo, you're with me. The rest of you, go with General Kenobi. We'll rendezvous at dusk."

The men nod and move off, leaving you alone with the two troopers. They're standing at attention and waiting for your orders, their rifles at the ready.

"Let's move."

"Sir," Fives starts, and he gestures at the walker lumbering past you. "Wouldn't it be easier if we stayed with the main group?"

"Maybe," you admit, and Echo tilts his head.

"Then why send them away?" he asks, confused. "This isn't a stealth mission."

"Because we have a better chance of finding the General if we split up," you explain. "And I can't just sit still and do nothing. We're running out of time, and every minute we waste is a minute Grievous could be getting farther away."

"Fair point," Fives says. He lets out a long sigh, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, where to, sir?"

"We're going to search the eastern sector," you tell him. "Stay close, and keep your eyes peeled."

"Yes, sir," he replies, and Echo nods his agreement.

You head off in the opposite direction of Obi-Wan and his men, and you're glad to have some distance between the two of you. It's easier to think when he's not hovering nearby. You can't deny that his concern is touching, but it's also distracting, and, right now, you need to focus. Besides, the sooner you find Grievous, the better.

You keep a brisk pace as you walk, the sun beating down on your shoulders. The landscape is flat, and the horizon is a blurry, shimmering line through the strange-shaped plants jutting up from the ground around you. You can feel the sweat trickling down your spine, the dust sticking to your skin, and the tension knotted in your muscles.

You manage to come across another pod, but just like the rest, it's empty, smashed to bits, and there's no sign of the occupants. You let out a frustrated huff and continue on your way. You're not sure how far you've walked or how long you've been moving, but the sun is starting to dip low on the horizon, and your body is starting to tire, the worry gnawing at you. You know Rex and the men can handle themselves, but the longer they're out of contact, and the longer you don't know where Grievous is, the more anxious you're becoming.

The only thing you can do is keep moving forward, and so you do, Fives and Echo at your heels. The heat is finally fading, and the breeze is beginning to pick up, the air filled with the sound of chirping bugs and the rustle of leaves.

"It's quiet," Echo observes, an edge to his voice. "Too quiet."

"That's a good thing," Fives counters, and his helmet tilts, his gaze scanning the horizon. "Quiet means easy. We can handle easy."

"Something tells me easy isn't in the cards for us today," Echo mutters.

"Hey," Fives laughs, "don't be such a pessimist. We can handle whatever this place throws at us. Right, sir?"

"Right," you say absentmindedly as you scan the area for any signs of life. But, everything seems calm, and you let out a deep breath, trying to shake the anxiety from your mind.

"Well, it's certainly not the worst place we've been," Echo sighs, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. "Remember Dorin?"

"How could I forget?" Fives groans. "Ugh, the fog. And the mud. And the giant worms."

"And the slime," Echo adds, and the two of them laugh.

"You're both lucky," you chime in, shaking your head. "I missed all the fun trying to keep Obi-Wan and Anakin from killing each other."

"Trust me," Fives says. "You weren't missing much."

"The swamp planet, however," Echo points out. "That was a disaster."

"Oh, yeah," Fives groans. "We all got sick, didn't we? Well, except for Rex."

"He always was immune to the worst of it," Echo chuckles. 

The mention of Rex's name catches your attention, and you look back at the two of them over your shoulder. It's been months since you've seen him, and even longer since the two of you were alone. You miss him. And his laugh. And his smile.

"Is that so?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. You tilt your head, and your voice takes on a teasing tone. "Immune to what, exactly?"

"Everything," Fives says. "Nothing ever fazes him. He's tough, that one. Always has been."

"That's why they made him captain," Fives adds, pride clear in his voice. "He's the best we have. No one's better suited for the job. After he saved some Jedi during the first battle on Geonosis, they gave him the 501st, and there was no turning back."

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you nearly trip over a root snaking along the ground in front of you. You quickly regain your footing and try to ignore the way your stomach twists into knots. There's a strange mix of pride and guilt welling up inside you, and your throat tightens.

"Really?" you say, trying to sound casual. You keep your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Fives replies. "Some crazy, reckless Jedi who was too stubborn to listen to reason."

"Sounds familiar," Echo says dryly, but you ignore the quip, suddenly overcome with the need to know more. Rex had let on very little about how he felt the day he saved your life, and now here was your chance to get some answers. You slow your pace and glance back at the two men, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

"What happened?" you ask, and they glance at each other, clearly surprised by your sudden interest.

"Well," Fives starts. "He was supposed to stay put and man the ship for the retreat from the arena, but instead, he charged into the fray, taking on a horde of clankers by himself."

"Risky move," Echo comments, his tone appreciative, and Fives nods in agreement.

"Very," he agrees. "But, he pulled it off. He managed to save the Jedi's life and earn himself a promotion in the process."

"A Jedi?" you repeat. "Which one?"

"Don't know," Fives replies with a shrug. "Rex never told us."

"He said she was incredible," Echo offers. The feeling in your chest eases a little, turning into something else entirely, a strange mixture of regret and hope that you can't quite identify. "Told us she fought like a demon, and that he wouldn't have survived without her. She saved his life too."

"She must've been one hell of a fighter," Fives says.

"True," Echo agrees. "He has a lot of respect for her."

"Respect," Fives scoffs, and Echo shakes his head.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, vod," Fives says, nudging his elbow against Echo's side. "I think it’s more than that."

Echo nudges him back, hard, and Fives stumbles, hissing in pain. "Ow.”

"Sorry," Echo says. His tone is insincere, and Fives snorts, rubbing his side. "My hand slipped."

"Uh huh," Fives mutters. He steps closer to Echo and dips his head, lowering his voice. "I'm just saying, he's never talked about someone the way he talked about her. Ever."

Echo glances over in your direction, and his voice drops even lower, but not so low that you can't still hear them. "You can’t be serious. It's Rex."

"So? Rex can have feelings, can't he?"

"Of course, he can, but, come on, it's Rex," Echo repeats. "He's the most dedicated clone in the entire army. He'd never allow himself to be distracted like that."

"Who said anything about being distracted?" Fives retorts, his voice rising. "Don't tell me you didn't think the same thing."

"No, I didn't. And it's none of our business," Echo retorts sharply. He looks back over at you, and you quickly avert your gaze, pretending to be interested in a large conical bush. "Besides, even if Rex did have feelings for her 一 which he doesn't 一 it wouldn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because," Echo starts, and you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye, a strange, tight feeling in your chest as your heart races in anticipation of his words. "She's a Jedi. They're not allowed to have relationships."

You swallow hard and bite the inside of your cheek, and you turn away, focusing your gaze on the path ahead. A hollow pit forms in the center of your stomach, and the warmth drains from your body, replaced by a cold chill that makes your bones ache.

"So?" Fives argues. "That doesn't mean they can't."

"Yes, it does," Echo counters, his voice rising. He looks at you. "Right, sir?"

"Hm?" you mumble, turning around and pretending like you hadn't been holding your breath and listening to their entire conversation. You try to look like you have no idea what they're talking about, but it's a losing battle. You can't focus, not with all these thoughts swirling around in your mind. 

The two men are staring at you expectantly as the silence stretches on, and you can feel their eyes boring into you. You shift your weight, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "What was the question?"

"You know," Echo presses. "About the rules."

"The rules?"

"The Jedi code," Fives clarifies, and you let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, that." Your hands twist behind your back, and your palms are sweaty as you struggle to maintain your composure. Forcing the words out takes all the effort you can muster. "Um, yes. That's correct. Jedi are forbidden from developing attachments."

"See?" Echo says, his voice smug. He turns to Fives and folds his arms across his chest. "I told you."

"Okay, okay," Fives concedes. "I was just saying, that's all."

"Well, don't," Echo warns. "It's rude."

"Fine," Fives sighs. He looks back at you and dips his helmet apologetically. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," you tell him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, even though your heart is pounding and your head is swimming.

Fives is wrong, of course. He has to be. It's ridiculous to think that Rex would be interested in you in that way. The two of you are friends, and that's all you'll ever be. It's a miracle that you're even that, after everything that's happened.

It doesn't make sense. None of it does. The very idea is preposterous. 

But...if it's true...what then? Would he ever act on his feelings? Would you? And if you did...what would happen? Where would you go from there? 

It's not like you could have a normal relationship, not that you even know what that feels like. Not to mention the fact that it's illegal. And frowned upon. Very frowned upon.

And yet...

"Sir," a voice crackles on your comm, startling you out of your thoughts. For a moment, you're staggered with a wave of relief, but then you realize that it's not Rex, but Jesse that's speaking. "We're on our way back. No sign of Grievous."

"Where's Rex?" you demand, the question tumbling out before you can stop yourself. Your grip tightens on the device, and you can feel your pulse quickening.

There's a pause, and the line crackles with static.

"Rex was injured, sir," Jesse reports.

Your stomach lurches, and your legs are suddenly unsteady, threatening to buckle beneath you. There's a cold pit in the bottom of your stomach and a lump in your throat as the blood drains from your face, and your hand shakes as you lift your comm back up.

This was what you were afraid of. You should've never let him go without you. This is all your fault.

"How bad?"

"He'll be fine," Jesse replies. "But we had to find him shelter for the night."

"What do you mean?" you snap. "Jesse, what happened?"

"A sniper took a potshot at us," he explains, and there's a grimace in his voice. "The Captain got hit."

"Where are you?" you press. You can hear your pulse thudding in your ears, and your voice is rising as you fight to keep yourself calm. "I'm coming."

"No, sir," Jesse argues. "We're on our way to reconvene with the rest of the unit. We're close. Rex is fine. He's just resting."

"Resting," you repeat numbly. "Jesse一"

"We'll see you soon," he cuts you off. "Don't worry. The Captain will be fine."

"He'd better be," you mutter as you close the channel. The two men are still staring at you expectantly, and you take a deep breath, trying to get your emotions under control. You can't afford to lose it, not now. Not when Rex is counting on you.

"He'll be fine," Echo assures you. His hand rests on your shoulder and squeezes gently. "We've been through worse."

"Of course he will," Fives agrees, his tone light. "He's the Captain. Nothing can take him down."

"You're right," you murmur, and you take another deep breath. "Thank you."

"Of course," Echo says. "Just try not to worry, sir. Rex can handle himself."

"Yeah," you sigh. "I know. It's just...this whole mission has been a fucking mess."

"Aren't they always?" Fives laughs. "You gotta learn to roll with it."

"I'll try," you say.

"Come on," he says, gesturing towards the horizon. "Let's get going before we lose the light."

You nod and start moving again, and the two of them fall into step at your side. The rest of the journey back is tense and quiet. You can't get the thought of Rex lying somewhere hurt and alone out of your mind, and the guilt is threatening to consume you. If he hadn't been out there on your orders, if you'd stayed together, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. You should've known better, should've anticipated the danger, should've protected him.

It's your fault that he's injured, and that knowledge eats at you.

By the time you return to Obi-Wan's position on the western front, the battle has already begun. You can hear the sound of canons and blaster fire, and the ground is trembling under your feet. There’s a downed escape pod surrounded by swaths of droids, and you can see the glint of green and blue lightsabers in the hands of the looming figure in front of it. It appears Obi-Wan has found Grievous after all, and he’s closing in quickly.

"Looks like they've started without us," you observe wryly, and the two troopers glance at each other, amused, before nodding in agreement.

"So, what's the plan, sir?" Fives asks. "Do we rush in and save the day?"

"Something like that," you reply, and he lets out a low whistle, his posture relaxing slightly, his helmet cocked to the side.

"Sounds like my kind of fun," he says, and Echo nods his agreement.

"Stay behind me and stick close," you order. “We’re not letting him get away this time.”

The two men nod and you draw your lightsaber, igniting the blade with a sharp hiss. The three of you begin running, your pace quickening as the sounds of the battle grow louder, and the smell of ozone fills the air. 

When the scene comes into view, it's an absolute disaster. There are pieces of droids everywhere, and the wreckage from the crashed ship is scattered around the base of the cliff. The walkers are firing their cannons, and the blaster bolts are flying thick and fast, ricocheting off the rocks and sending sparks shooting up into the sky. 

You'd hoped to see Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase among the men, but they're nowhere in sight. Still, the 212th and the remainder of the 501st is holding its own, and for once, you’re optimistic that this is a fight you can win. If you can get close enough to Grievous, he'll fall, and the rest will scatter like the rats they are.

Obi-Wan is poised on the bow of a walker, deflecting blaster fire with ease. You catch his eye and gesture to Fives and Echo to stay close, and you leap up to join him on the top of the vehicle, landing beside him with a soft thud. 

"Nice of you to join us," Obi-Wan quips, his attention shifting from the battle to you. When he sees your expression, his brows knit together. "Everything alright?"

"Peachy," you mutter. Your lightsabers ignite, and you deflect a blaster bolt that comes too close for comfort. "Sorry we're late.”

He stares at you for a beat longer. It’s obvious that he can feel the worry coursing through you. He knows something is wrong. He always does. But, this is a conversation that can wait. Grievous is the priority, and, as usual, Obi-Wan seems to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves.

"No apology necessary," he says gently. "Though it would seem our dear General Grievous is in a bit of a hurry to leave. It's rather rude of him not to say goodbye."

"Oh, I think we can persuade him to stick around," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips, and Obi-Wan returns it with a smirk of his own.

"My thoughts exactly," he agrees.

The two of you move as one, jumping off the walker and racing towards the group of droids, deflecting their bolts and slicing them to pieces as you go. You split off to the right with Fives and Echo flanking you, and, together, the three of you cut a path through the sea of metal bodies, heading straight for Grievous. 

Obi-Wan takes the opposite direction, and you can hear his lightsaber humming as he makes short work of the droids in his path. The walkers are firing steadily now, the sound deafening, and the explosions rock the ground beneath your feet. 

The Republic has the upper hand here, but Grievous is a formidable opponent. If you want to win, you'll have to bring the fight to him. And, you know that's exactly what he wants. He's a tactician at heart, and he knows when to retreat, which means you have to push him, and quickly. It's risky, but you don't have much of a choice.

You keep moving, not stopping for a moment. A blaster bolt glances off the side of your armor, and the impact is enough to send you reeling, but Echo’s hand on your back keeps you upright. You surge forward, determined to reach Grievous and end this battle once and for all. There are more than enough troops to keep the droids distracted, and they've begun pushing them back, using the cover fire from the AT-TEs to drive the clankers towards the cliff.

“Sir! We can take him!" Fives yells over the din of battle as you throw your shoto, the blade embedding in a nearby droid. 

When you turn and pull it back into your hand, you can see him pointing at Grievous, and you nod sharply. It's the best plan you've got. 

Grievous is still standing in front of the pod, his body hunched over, his cape fluttering in the wind. You can feel his rage as he stares at you, his yellow eyes piercing through you. The flash of his stolen lightsabers makes you grit your teeth in anger as you race forward, Echo and Fives at your heels, the blaster fire whizzing past your ears, and your heart thumping in your chest.

A ship buzzes overhead, and you look up to see a transport attempting to land behind enemy lines. There's no doubt that the droids are attempting to extract Grievous, and you know the opportunity is too good to pass up. If you can cut them off, then you can end the battle, and capture the Separatist leader.

"Concentrate your fire on that ship!" Obi-Wan orders, and you repeat the command to your men. The walkers adjust their aim, and the cannons pound away, narrowly missing the hull.

"We can't let him get away!" you shout. "Keep pushing!"

Fives and Echo grunt their acknowledgement, and the three of you continue charging towards Grievous, your lightsabers whirling around you. You can hear the men shouting, their voices muffled by their helmets, and the blaster fire is a constant buzz in the air. The sound is punctuated by the explosions, and the dirt is being thrown up around you as the walkers blast the droids.

"Sir, that ship's coming around for another landing attempt," Jesse says in your ear, and your eyes flit back up to the sky, searching for the enemy vessel. You find it easily and curse under your breath when you realize it's too far away to hit with the cannons.

"Keep firing," Obi-Wan commands from behind you. "Don't let that ship land."

You glance back at him. You're closer to Grievous than he is, and you can't pass up the opportunity. If the cyborg manages to escape, then it's over, and you'll be damned if you're going to let that happen again.

"I'm on it," you say into your comm.

"What? No, wait," Obi-Wan protests, but you're already running, your eyes fixed on the ship. “Wait!”

"Sir, where are you going?!" Fives calls after you, and you can hear him and Echo struggling to keep up.

"Taking care of Grievous!" you shout. You launch yourself over the bodies of fallen droids and the wreckage of their machines, the Force pushing you forward. The air crackles with energy, and you can feel the adrenaline surging through you as you jump, twisting your body to avoid the blaster bolts streaking past you.

You hear the men shouting behind you, but the sound is distant. The only thing that matters is catching Grievous. You're not going to let him slip away. Not this time. Not ever.

Your blades sing through the air, and he turns just in time to deflect the blow. His mechanical breathing rattles through the air, and his yellow eyes glow menacingly as he leers down at you, the lightsabers in his hands hissing and crackling with energy. 

He's a mountain of metal and wires, his claws curling into fists as he swings one of the weapons at your head, but you're ready for him, and you duck beneath the blow. You bring your lightsaber up in a wide arc and manage to score a glancing hit on his leg, and the metal sizzles as the blade cuts through it, sending sparks flying.

Grievous roars, and he descends on you with a flurry of blows that leave you reeling, but you're able to parry each one, the blades singing as they clash against each other. Your arms are shaking from the effort, and you can feel the strain in your muscles.

Obi-Wan barks another order over the comm, but you don't listen, too focused on the fight. The transport is closing in above you, and you watch as a rope descends from the open hatch and falls towards Grievous. You know you have only seconds before he's gone, and you have to act fast. Your lightsabers twirl, and you block his next strike, but he lashes out with an unarmed claw as you do.

A yelp of pain escapes your throat as the razor-sharp points rake across your arm, catching underneath your plate and ripping it off your shoulder. The sudden movement throws you off balance, and the blow is enough to send you stumbling backwards, blood dripping down your arm. 

The sight of your own blood soaking through your white robe fills you with a new sense of urgency, and you can feel your rage bubbling up, threatening to consume you. The Jedi Code is the furthest thing from your mind, and, as your eyes lock on the Separatist general, all you can think about is ending him.

You raise your arms to block as he descends on you again, his lightsabers flashing through the air as he moves faster than any human should be able to. The pain in your shoulder is forgotten as you parry his attacks and counter with your own. The sounds of the battle fade away, and all you can hear is the roar of your pulse, and the crackle of his lightsabers as they slash through the air around you. 

After a particularly hard blow sends you stumbling, the cyborg takes the opportunity to appraise you, his yellow eyes narrowed as he studies you. His claws twitch as he looks you up and down, and a strange noise escapes him between labored breaths.

"Ah, I know you," Grievous croaks, and you realize the noise is laughter. "The angry little Jedi from the arena."

"What?" you hiss. Your hands grip the hilt of your lightsabers tightly, the muscles in your shoulders tensing. You feel like you're a spring coiled so tight that it's about to snap at any moment, and a shudder runs through you. "What did you just say?"

"Yes," he chuckles again. "You are the same. How amusing. Dooku will be pleased."

"What do you mean?" you ask, and your voice trembles with anger. You know he's trying to distract you, but you can't help yourself, desperate for any answers you can get.

"You are a fool," Grievous laughs, the sound echoing through the canyon. He raises his arms, his metal body towering over you. "If you knew what happened to your master, you would not be here."

"Tell me," you growl, taking a step forward. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting, but the words are lost in the haze of your rage, and the ringing in your ears drowns him out.

"Why would I tell you?" he sneers. "You are nothing."

His words hit you like a blaster bolt, and the anger burns hotter than the sun, consuming every thought in your mind. Your vision goes red, and your muscles tense as you let out a primal scream and charge, throwing yourself at him, your lightsabers swinging wildly.

It's a reckless move, and a stupid one, but it's all you can do. Your blades strike again and again, the sound deafening. You're barely aware of anything else. Not the blaster fire. Not the walkers. Not even Obi-Wan yelling. All you can focus on is Grievous, and the fury inside you.

"You are weak," he taunts, his voice low and gravelly. His words only make you angrier, and your body shakes as the emotions overwhelm you.

He blocks the next swing of your lightsaber, and the impact is enough to nearly knock the blade from your hand. You scramble to keep your grip, barely managing to hold onto it. You're panting now, your lungs burning, and sweat dripping down your brow.

"You will pay for what you've done," you snarl, and you raise the blades again. "For the lives you've taken."

“What about you?” he snarls, his mechanical breathing labored as he twirls his sabers. “Will you pay for the lives you've taken?"

His words stop you in your tracks, and, for a moment, the world seems to slow down around you. You feel like you're falling into the depths of an abyss, your mind spinning. You know he's toying with you, trying to provoke you, but the images from your past come rushing back faster than you can push them away. He can't possibly know...can he?

The sound of a cannon exploding nearby jerks you back to reality, and you look up and see the ship hovering just above Grievous. He’s staring at you, a sick satisfaction in his eyes. The rope has been lowered almost all the way now, and you can see the droids inside the transport waiting to haul him up.

"You will regret this day, Jedi," Grievous taunts, his eyes flitting to the transport. He knows he's won, and it's the last thing he'll say to you before he's gone, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his voice and the knowledge that he has answers you need.

The anger surges up inside you again, and, before you can think twice, your lightsaber is flying towards him. He barely manages to catch it with his own, and the blade skims the edge of his arm, slicing through the metal and causing the wires beneath to spark. Satisfaction floods you as the smell of burning wire fills the air, and his lightsaber drops to the ground with a thud.

A scream tears itself from his throat, and he lashes out with his other blade. You whirl and parry, but you’re not prepared for the hand that snaps out. Clawed fingers catch around your neck and lift you off the ground, and you kick and struggle, but his grip is like a vice. Grievous squeezes hard, and your lightsabers fall from your hands as your vision blurs and your lungs burn for air.

The pain is searing, and you can feel your pulse pounding in your head as he lifts you higher, until you're looking him straight in the eye. Your hands wrap around his wrist, trying to pull yourself free as your legs kick frantically, but it's no use. You try to call your lightsabers back to you with the Force, but he kicks them away, and the sound of them hitting the ground rings in your ears. 

Grievous lets out a wheezing laugh as he tightens his grip on your throat, and you gasp, your mouth open, desperate for air, your mind screaming in agony.

"This is where we part ways," he growls, and you can hear his mechanical breathing getting louder as his claws squeeze the last of the life from you.

“Leaving so soon?” 

Obi-Wan’s voice comes from behind you, and you can't turn to look, but you hear the hum of his lightsaber and see a flash of blue in the corner of your eye. Grievous roars and releases you, and you crumple to the ground, your body colliding painfully with the dirt.

You're gasping for air, your head swimming, and your vision blurred. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting orders, and the sound of a lightsaber clashing against another. The ground is shaking, and there are shouts and screams, but the world around you feels so far away.

When the haze finally clears from your mind, you look up to see Obi-Wan and Grievous locked in a duel, their lightsabers clashing in a fury. You can barely keep track of the two combatants as they circle each other, moving faster than should be possible, their blades a blur of light and color.

Obi-Wan is the best swordsman in the entire army, and he has more experience fighting the cyborg general than anyone else, but even he can't take on Grievous without help. If you want to win this fight, you need to get involved. You push yourself upright, trying to shake off the fog that has settled over your mind, and you search for your lightsabers, desperate to help, but they're nowhere to be found.

"Come on, come on," you mutter, turning back towards the battle.

"Sir!" 

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, lifting you up and away. You fight, trying to pull free, but the arms are unyielding. You struggle uselessly against them, the panic setting in as you watch the duel unfold. Obi-Wan is starting to tire now, and you can tell he won't last much longer, not without your help.

"Stop!" you cry out, and the sound is strangled and raspy. You can feel the bruises forming around your throat, and the pain is radiating down into your chest as you squirm and thrash. "Let go!"

"Calm down, sir!" the voice orders, and it takes you a moment to recognize Jesse. His helmet is pressed close to your ear, his voice strained with effort as he tries to keep a hold of you. "Calm down! It's me!"

"Jesse," you rasp.

"Yeah, it's me," he repeats. His grip loosens, but only slightly. "Don't move."

You can see the transport closing in now, and Grievous is backing away from the fight. He's retreating. It's the opening he needs, and Obi-Wan won't have a chance.

“Jesse, let me go.”

"What? Are you crazy?" Jesse demands. "You can't fight like this."

"I don't care!" you yell, and the volume of your own voice sends a shockwave of pain through you.

"Sir, I'm trying to help," he pleads, his grip tightening again, the armor pressing into your ribs.

"Jesse, let go!" you repeat, and your voice cracks. "Please!"

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he's going to refuse. But then, his hands release you, and the sudden change in position throws you off balance. You stagger, your hands flailing, and you're certain you're going to fall, but his arms steady you and hold you up.

"Thank you," you pant, and you can feel his eyes on you, even through the helmet.

"I hope you know what you're doing, sir," he sighs.

You both look up to see Grievous scaling the side of the downed escape pod, the transport hovering overhead. Obi-Wan is struggling to stand, his body hunched, his lightsaber dangling loosely in his hand.

The cyborg is still laughing, his metal frame glinting in the moonlight as he reaches for the rope, his claws wrapping around the end and pulling himself up. 

If you can buy Obi-Wan more time, stop Grievous from boarding the ship...you can still end this. This won't be for nothing. Rex won't have been hurt for nothing. None of it will have been for nothing. Not if you can take Grievous down before he can leave. It's the only way.

"Get back," you order Jesse, your voice dark. "Now."

"But, sir一"

"That's an order!"

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice flat.

Jesse releases you, and the relief is immediate. You can feel the cold air filling your lungs, and the weight has lifted from your chest, but the pain in your throat is still searing. Your hands tremble as you try to gather the Force around you, drawing on every ounce of strength left within.

You expand your mind, reaching out for the Force to guide your path, and you feel a jolt as you grasp onto the ship. You hold tight, focusing on keeping it in place, and the metal groans as it strains against the invisible bonds holding it there. The effort makes your head pound, but you ignore it, pouring everything you have into the movement.

"Sir," Jesse yells behind you, "what are you doing?"

"Something stupid," you grunt, wincing as a sharp pain lances through your skull. The strain is enormous, and you can feel your control slipping, your body shaking from the exertion, but you can't stop now. Obi-Wan is climbing up after Grievous, and if you could just hold the transport for a few more seconds...

The air around the vessel ripples, and the engine shudders. The ship is groaning under the strain of the Force pushing against it, and it's all you can do to hold the craft still, your heart pounding in your chest, the sweat running down your forehead, and the ache in your head growing by the second. Obi-Wan is halfway up the pod now, but Grievous is ascending, lifting higher into the air.

The ship begins to pull away, straining against the hold you have on it, the metal groaning and creaking as the engine whirs. Your body shakes as the ship rises a few meters, your grip slipping, your mind screaming in agony. 

You're struggling to stay conscious now, your vision blurred and the world around you beginning to spin, and you know you won't be able to maintain control much longer. The ship is too big, too heavy, and your head is pounding so hard you can barely think straight. But, you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting. You have to save the men. You have to save Obi-Wan. You have to一

Suddenly, the ship lurches, and the metal buckles. There's a loud popping sound, and you fall to your knees, the breath rushing out of your lungs as the weight of the vessel releases from your mind. The world is spinning, and your heart is hammering in your chest. And the ship...

The ship is flying away.

You watch through the fog in your mind as the ship rockets up into the sky, and the darkness swallows it whole. 

There's a moment of deafening silence as you realize what's happened, and then the crushing weight of defeat sets in. Grievous has escaped. Again. All of this was for nothing. You've failed.

"Sir?" Jesse asks gently, and you look up.

You meet his gaze through the visor of his helmet, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes and the lump rising in your throat. He places a hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but firm, and you let him lift you to your feet. Your head is spinning, and the nausea is creeping up the back of your throat, but you keep moving as Jesse guides you back toward the others.

"Is the General alright?" Fives calls as he and Echo rush towards you, their blasters raised and their heads turning back and forth, searching for threats.

"She's fine," Jesse replies curtly, his tone brooking no argument.

"I'm fine," you whisper, and the words taste like ash. You're far from fine. In fact, you're pretty sure this is the farthest thing from fine that you could possibly be. Grievous has escaped. Rex has been injured. Obi-Wan nearly died because of you. How can any of this be fine? How can it ever be okay again?

"Sir?" Fives says, concern bleeding through his voice modulator, and the sound makes your stomach twist into knots.

"We...we need to regroup. We...have to...the men..." you say weakly, and the exhaustion is beginning to creep in, the adrenaline fading and the pain taking its place. The words are a jumbled mess, and you're not even sure what you're trying to say, but the others nod their understanding.

"Sir, you're bleeding," Kix says as he comes running over with Hardcase close behind. His hands are immediately on your arm, his fingers probing the wound, and the pain makes your stomach clench. 

You wince, pulling away from him as best you can, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes again. You're not sure if it's the pain or the humiliation that's causing the burning sensation in your throat, but it doesn't matter, because both are making you want to disappear.

"I'm fine," you reply, the words coming out more harshly than intended, and Kix takes a step back, his hands raised in surrender. You know the injury is severe, but the sting of your pride is stronger. "Help the wounded."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think一"

"That's an order," you snap, and the medic flinches at the venom in your voice. "Do it."

"Yes, sir," he replies quietly, his tone resigned. "Just...take it easy. Please."

He nods to Hardcase and they hurry away. After another long look, Echo and Fives move off with them, leaving you alone with Jesse. You stand there for a moment, watching them, the shame and the anger mixing into a sickening cocktail that's making it difficult to breathe. 

You can feel the eyes of the other men on you, but you refuse to meet their gaze. They must hate you for failing them, for putting their lives in danger, for letting their brothers die. You don't deserve their concern. You don't deserve their care. You're a failure, and they deserve better.

"Sir," Jesse says quietly, and the guilt rises up in your chest, choking you. He shouldn't be worried about you. He should be worrying about the rest of the men, the men that are lying dead on the battlefield, the men that are going to die because of you. 

"Let me help you," he continues when you don't respond. He lifts his hand, showing your lightsabers clasped within it. You didn't even realize he had picked them up. "You're going to need these."

"Right," you mutter, taking the hilts from him, the metal cool and smooth against your palms. You look down at them for a moment before clipping them to your belt. "Thank you."

"Anytime, sir," he replies, his voice warm and comforting. "We should go check on the General. See if we can't help him and the men."

You nod, and the two of you set off towards the wreckage. The sounds of the battle have faded now, and the only things that remain are the moans of the wounded and the crackling of the fires burning across the field. The sight is one that's all too familiar to you, and you know you should be grateful that there are so few casualties, but the feeling of defeat is overwhelming.

Obi-Wan stands, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. You can tell by the way he's holding himself that he's exhausted and sore. Still, he turns when you approach, a small smile on his face. 

"Well done, my dear. Though, I have to admit, you gave me quite the scare."

The brush of emotion through the Force is almost overwhelming, and you have to fight back the urge to cry. He's not angry. He's not disappointed. He's just...relieved, proud even. It's enough to make you break down and sob right then and there, but you manage to hold yourself together. There will be time for that later.

"Thanks," you mutter. "You alright?"

"Just a bit banged up," he says with a shrug. "It'll pass. How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Like a complete and utter failure," you answer honestly, your voice catching in your throat. You force out a laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "But what else is new."

Obi-Wan's smile falters, and his gaze slides from you to Jesse, who's standing silently beside you. "Give us a minute, please."

"Of course, General," Jesse replies, saluting before walking off to join the others. 

You watch him go for a moment before turning back to Obi-Wan, and the tears threaten to spill over. You can feel his compassion, his concern, his love. It's enough to bring you to your knees. 

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asks softly.

"I...I failed. I should have一"

"Enough," he cuts you off, his voice firm but kind. "You did the right thing. It was a calculated risk, and it could have paid off, but sometimes that's just how things work out."

"But I...Rex. And the men. If something happens..."

"Stop," he orders, and his voice is hard, the compassion gone. "You're spiraling. Listen to me: we will find Grievous. We will capture him. We will win this war. And, we will do it together."

The certainty in his voice is enough to convince you, and, for a moment, you believe him. You feel the anger fade and the shame abate. You know he's right. You know you have to stop letting the failures eat at you. You have to learn to let go. You have to trust. 

"I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am."

"I know you are," he says gently. "And, I'm proud of you."

Obi-Wan steps closer, and he takes your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the scar on your forehead. His touch is soft and warm, and the contact is enough to make the tears fall. You look up at him, your gaze meeting his, and you know the emotion that passes between you is the same. "It will be alright. I promise."

"You can't promise that," you whisper.

"No," he replies, his voice low and his expression serious. "But I can try. We won't let him slip through our fingers. Not again."

The words are like a balm on your soul, and, for the first time since Rex was injured, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You nod, and Obi-Wan's smile returns, though it's tinged with sadness.

"Now, please go see a medic," he says. "You're bleeding everywhere."

"Right," you laugh, sniffing and wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Will do, General."

"Good," he replies. Obi-Wan drops his hands and turns to leave, but he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. "There is one more thing, though. I know I'm not your Master, and that's not my place, but I would advise caution."

"What?" you ask, confused, and Obi-Wan smiles sadly at you.

"I saw how you fought today. How you lost yourself to the rage. I felt it," he says softly, and the words are enough to send a shiver down your spine. "I know you don't want to hear it, but it's the truth, and I won't stand by and watch it destroy you again."

You stare at him for a moment, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Of course he noticed. He's always noticed. But, this is the first time in a long time he's said anything. "Obi-Wan..."

"Don't say anything. Just promise me you'll be careful," he says. "We can't lose you. I can’t lose you. Not to the dark."

"I promise," you reply, the words sticking in your throat.

"Good," he replies, his expression lightening. "Now, go get yourself checked out. Our pickup should arrive in the morning."

"Yes, sir," you reply, and the words come out more strongly than you feel. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, turning and striding away, the smile still on his lips.

You watch him for a moment before turning and looking across the battlefield. The fires are starting to die down now, and the moon hangs low in the sky. There's so much left to do, but, for the moment, you let yourself breathe, the air cool and sweet in your lungs.

You close your eyes and exhale, and then you start walking. You make your way across the field, your eyes searching for a familiar face. You see Cody in the distance, helping the men, but Rex is still nowhere to be found. Panic surges in your chest, but you take a deep breath and steady yourself, pushing the emotion away. It will do no good. You'll just have to trust that he'll return, safe and whole, when he's able.

As you walk, you pass the 501st. They're sitting in the dirt, their armor stained with dust and smoke, and their faces streaked with sweat. They're exhausted, but their morale is high. Fives is laughing with Hardcase, and Jesse is teasing Echo about the reg manual he keeps in his pocket. The sight fills you with warmth, and the tension eases from your body. Maybe you haven't failed. Not entirely.

"General!" Fives shouts as he catches sight of you. The others turn, and a chorus of greetings follows.

"Are you okay?"

"What's the word, sir?"

"Is General Kenobi alright?"

You blink, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught. They're all staring at you, their eyes full of hope and concern, and, suddenly, you feel like you might burst into tears again. Instead, you smile, and you count off the questions on your fingers. "He's fine, we should be out of here by morning, and yes, I'm okay. How are you all holding up?"

"Better than you, by the looks of it," Fives replies, and then grins. "Nice work with that ship. That was some crazy Force stuff. Very impressive."

"Oh, it was nothing," you mutter. You move your arm to rub the back of your neck, failing to consider the deep gash in your shoulder, and the pain explodes across your skin. You let out a sharp hiss and close your eyes, waiting for the wave of agony to pass. "Ow."

"That's definitely not nothing," Jesse says dryly, before he turns his head and cups a hand over the side of his mouth. "Kix! Get over here!"

"I'm fine," you insist, and you open your eyes, glaring at him. "I've been through worse."

"Yeah," Hardcase replies. "We know, sir. We were there."

You can't help but laugh at the comment. "Fair point. Okay, you got me. It hurts. A lot."

"No shit," Kix snorts as he approaches. He's carrying a bag full of supplies, and his expression is stern. He grabs onto your uninjured shoulder and guides you to a fallen log, gently forcing you to sit. "Can I take a look now, or are you going to keep arguing with me?"

"Fine," you grumble. "Go ahead."

He kneels beside you and sets the bag down. The others hover nearby, pretending not to watch as Kix helps you remove your damaged chestplate. Your vambraces and remaining pauldron come off next, and together, you pull off your bloodied white tunic. Kix cuts into the grey bodysuit you wear underneath, and his deft fingers begin to peel the torn fabric away from the wound. The motion sends a jolt of pain through you, and you can't stop the grimace that twists your mouth.

Your shoulder is a mess of torn flesh and blood. It's an ugly sight, and the wound burns as the cool air hits it. Kix presses a clean cloth to it, and you wince. 

"Damn. That looks painful."

"It is," you hiss through gritted teeth. "But not as bad as it looks."

"Of course not. That's why your face is white as a sheet," he huffs. He glances up at the others. "Can someone get me some water?"

Hardcase is off like a shot. You're sure he’s just as eager to be helpful as he is to be anywhere but near Kix. You're glad. You don't need any more witnesses to the humiliation of this moment. Still, there's no denying the fact that you need medical attention.

"You should have said something," Kix grumbles as he begins cleaning the wound, his movements slow and gentle. The medic does his best to keep his emotions in check, but the occasional wave of irritation washes over you. He's upset, he feels helpless, he doesn't like it. You don't either. "It's been hours."

"Sorry," you murmur. "I was worried more about the men."

"You're always worried about the men," he sighs. "We're clones. It's what we do."

"Not always," you protest. "You're people too. You matter."

"So do you," Kix says firmly. "You know that, right?"

You shrug and immediately regret it as the motion sends a sharp spike of pain through your arm. "It's just...the war...you can't 一 fuck, that hurts 一 it's hard."

"Yeah," he says softly. "It is. But that's all the more reason to take care of ourselves. We have to stick together."

You nod. "Right. Sorry."

Kix shakes his head and continues cleaning the wound. He's quiet now, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. The others are still close by, but they're keeping their distance. It's probably for the best. You don't want them to see the tears forming in your eyes.

"Rex is going to have my head," Kix mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. You blink and look down at him. His expression is grim, his mouth twisted in a line as he ties off the last of your stitches. "He told me to watch you."

"Where is he?" you ask. Your heart leaps into your throat as the thought that he might have died flits through your mind. "Is he一"

"He's alive," Kix says quickly. "He's stable."

"He's resting," Jesse adds. He's not looking at you, but there's a grimace on his face. "We left him on a farm nearby. Some local family agreed to take him in and look after him."

"Oh, good,” you reply softly as the relief washes over you. "What happened?"

"We were ambushed by commando droids," he says, his tone dark. "One of the bastards got the jump on the Captain. Shot him clean through the chest."

You nearly fall off the log in shock. "What?"

"He's fine," Jesse insists. "Kix fixed him up. It's just...well...it was touch and go for a minute."

"But he's fine," Kix repeats. "The shot missed his heart by a few inches."

"And the other wounds?" you ask quietly. Your head dips down, but you don't miss the way Fives and Echo glance at each other. There's something unspoken between them, but you don't dwell on it, too focused on Kix's answer.

"Minor. Mostly bruises from the crash," Kix replies. "Hold still."

"Sorry," you mutter. The relief is making you a little woozy. You'd been so worried about him, but he's going to be fine. Everything's going to be okay. You're still alive. You're all still alive.

For once, everything is going to be fine. The buzzing of the Force in the back of your mind, the one that has been growing ever since you left Coruscant, seems to settle and calm, and you find yourself letting out a long sigh.

"Thank you, Kix."

"What for?" he asks. He's wrapping a bacta patch over the freshly sutured wound now, his movements quick and practiced. "For saving his life?"

"Yeah," you answer. "And for taking care of me."

"That's my job," he huffs. "I don't need thanks for doing it."

"Well, thank you anyway," you insist. He nods, and you can't help but smile at the faint blush that colors his cheeks. "I mean it."

"Okay," Kix says gruffly. "Enough chit-chat. Let's get this bandaged up."

He pulls out a length of gauze and starts wrapping it around your arm. The bacta is working its magic already, and the pain has eased. You can feel the exhaustion starting to set in, and your eyelids are beginning to droop.

Without the pain and the anger, and the fear, to keep you going, you're starting to crash. You know you should probably eat something too. You can't remember the last time you ate anything. Was it yesterday? The day before? It's hard to tell anymore. The days have begun to blur together.

"How are the others?" you ask, trying to stay focused. "Any serious injuries?"

"Mostly minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing we can't handle," Kix replies. He ties off the gauze and sits back on his heels, surveying his handiwork. "There. All set. That should hold until we can get you back to the ship."

"Great," you sigh. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Kix says. He stands up and brushes the dirt off his knees, and then he picks up the bag of supplies and turns to the others. "Don't let her sleep until she's eaten."

"I'm right here," you grumble, though there's no heat behind the words. You know they're just trying to look out for you, and, right now, the care and concern feels surprisingly nice.

"Right," Jesse snorts. He leans over and taps you on the forehead. "You still with us?"

"Yeah," you sigh, rubbing your eyes. "I'm awake."

"Good," Kix says, nodding his approval. He turns and heads towards the nearest group of clones, stopping to tend to a wounded trooper on the way.

Hardcase returns a few moments later, and you manage to drink the canteen of water he brings you, though the liquid threatens to come back up. You fight the urge, forcing yourself to take deep, even breaths. The food isn't any better, and you struggle through a few bites of nutrition bar before giving up. The taste is too much for your stomach, and you can't bring yourself to eat any more.

The boys don't seem to notice. They're talking about the fight and what they hope will happen next, and their voices are a steady, calming rhythm in the background. They're safe. They're alive. And, right now, that's all that matters.

You sit there for a while, your head resting on the tree behind you, listening to the sound of the clones laughing and joking around, the tension and fear finally fading.

Your eyes grow heavier and heavier, the exhaustion pulling at your limbs and lulling you into a state of relaxation. You can't remember the last time you felt this calm, and it's a relief to finally let go. You let yourself sink into the warmth of the Force, the energy swirling around you and wrapping you in its embrace.

After a few minutes, the darkness of unconsciousness swallows you whole, and the world fades away.

You dream of golden fields, but this time, the sun is shining, and the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers. The wind is cool and gentle, the sound of children's laughter echoing through the trees. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and, for the first time, you let yourself feel hope.

thanks @lordofthenerds97 for beta-ing this chapter!

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[thelibrarian1895]

Bruce is the restraining bolt

Let's say that Bruce "dies" again. Tim, of course, figures it's another temporary thing and bonus he doesn't need to risk another organ to prove it this time. That being said, Bruce isn't around to stop them now. Dick doesn't feel the need to be the dad this time since Bruce will be back. He's the big brother, the babysitter at best. Jason has never felt the need to step up into a parental role for any of his sibs before and he's not going to stop now. Cass won't kill, that is her line, beyond that, she's not anyone's parent either. Tim is one bad day away from being a supervillain, he seriously needs a vacation but at the same time he needs something that will keep him busy or he will get paranoid (thanks B for the trauma) and so he's not going to stop anyone, Duke doesn't have the experience to know when or if he should stop any of his sibs, steph and barbara are staying out of it as while they are family they consider themselves cousins at best no matter what B says, and no one is going to let Damian boss them around.

That being established, B is gone, Alfred is fretting but not inclined to stop anyone anyway, the kids decide that while the bat is away...

When Bruce returns, Alfred is just returning from a spa trip his beloved grandchildren insisted that he go on since he deserved a nice break and they even investigated to make sure the spa wasn't a scam or front! While Alfred was gone and Bruce was "dead", all Black Mask's warehouses had been mysteriously destroyed with large explosions that Bruce had previously forbidden because he was worried about collateral damage since some of those warehouses were sandwiched by other storage facilities and places where people squatted. (Steph and Jason, both very affronted because they are professionals B! And yes, there were also glitter bombs involved, it made the fire extra pretty with the different colors).

Furthermore, Lex Luthor is no longer the majority shareholder of his own company anymore, that would be Tim now, and all of Lex's employees are rejoicing since they're all getting a pay raise that brings them from the legal bare minimum to not just a living wage but twice that plus benefits even for those who aren't full timers (which is basically everyone, lex never wanted to get benefits for anyone). Lex is also being investigated for embezzling, money laundering, domestic and international terrorism, and the trafficking of minors (kon). Lex chose a very bad time to make Kon sad and Tim took that personally.

Bruce also discovered that Tim's childhood home, aka the drake's old place next door for the given value of next door, has been demolished and that whole area is now a botanical garden and registered wildlife sanctuary. (Damian with assistance and permission from Tim since technically the land was in Tim's name, Damian persuaded Poison Ivy to help while also monitoring to ensure she didn't slip in anything detrimental and also breaking up the exotic animal smuggling ring that B had been trying to keep from him to prevent this very thing. Tim, in the meantime, just happened to have a number of people on hand more than happy to work in a botanical garden/wildlife sanctuary and no, none of those people were ever formerly ninja who answered to Ra's before realizing that Red Robin was a far better employer, why would you ever think they were?)

And of course, the Joker is dead. None of his kids are fessing up to this. If pressed, they will cry, even Jason, and say that they thought Joker killed their dad and they wished it had been them because they missed him so much! (It was Dick and Barbara, Babs faked the paperwork for Dick to go in as an orderly, Dick, in disguise, gave the Joker altered medication via injection and made sure to get some air bubbles in for good measure, official COD was a totally natural brain aneurysm, so sad, no autopsy needed, burn the body)

Duke was a bit of a wild card and ended up hanging out with Selina, picking up a few extra skills, and using those skills to break into various mansions and apartments of the filthy rich to steal back stolen art and artifacts and return them to museums in their country of origin so they can be enjoyed by everyone (he watched indiana jones recently and the "it belongs in a museum" popped into his head a lot, he did wear a particular hat while he was committing his heists) It was nice potential step mother and step son bonding time

And finally, Cass causes Ra's Al Ghul to lose a particular appendage, one that the lazarus pit hasn't been able to grow back for him thanks to a little consultation with Constantine beforehand. She then went to hang out at Themyscira and got some very pretty bracelets.

Bruce is thinking very hard about just turning around. He takes a nap instead and then he lectures his beloved nutcases about personal safety, the law, respecting what is essentially dibs on certain super villains, and all the other boring stuff he's tried to impose on them over the years.

[fatehbaz]

“Is it green energy if it’s impacting cultural traditional sites?”

Yakama Nation Tribal Councilman Jeremy Takala sounded weary. For five years, tribal leaders and staff have been fighting a renewable energy development that could permanently destroy tribal cultural property. “This area, it’s irreplaceable.”

The privately owned land, outside Goldendale, Washington, is called Pushpum, or “mother of roots,” a first foods seed bank. The Yakama people have treaty-protected gathering rights there. One wind turbine-studded ridge, Juniper Point, is the proposed site of a pumped hydro storage facility. But to build it, Boston-based Rye Development would have to carve up Pushpum — and the Yakama Nation lacks a realistic way to stop it.

Back in October 2008, unbeknownst to Takala, Scott Tillman, CEO of Golden Northwest Aluminum Corporation, met with the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a collection of governor-appointed representatives from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana [...]. Tillman, who owned a shuttered Lockheed Martin aluminum smelter near Goldendale, told the council about the contaminated site’s redevelopment potential, specifically for pumped hydro storage [...]. Shortly thereafter, Klickitat County’s public utility department tried to implement Tillman’s plan [...].

Meanwhile, Tillman cleaned up and sold another smelting site, just across the Columbia River in The Dalles, Oregon, a Superfund site where Lockheed Martin had poisoned the groundwater with cyanide. He sold it to Google’s parent company, Alphabet, which operates water-guzzling data centers in The Dalles and plans to build more. For nine years, the county and Rye plotted the fate of Pushpum — without ever notifying the Yakama Nation.

The tribal government only learned of the development in December 2017, when the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) issued a public notice of acceptance for Rye’s preliminary permit application. Tribal officials had just 60 days to catch up on nine years of development planning and issue their initial concerns and objections as public comments. [...]

When the tribe objected, FERC said it could file more public comments to the docket instead of consulting. [...]

When asked what Rye could offer the Yakama people as compensation for the irreversible destruction of their cultural property, Steimle suggested “employment associated with the project.” [...] Presented with the reality that Yakama people might not want Rye’s jobs, Steimle hesitated. “Yeah, I mean I, I can’t argue that — maybe it won’t be meaningful to them.” [...]

Klickitat County’s eagerness creates another barrier to the Yakama Nation. In Washington, a developer can take one of two permitting paths: through the state’s Energy Facility Site Evaluation Council, or through county channels. Both lead to FERC. In this case, working with the county benefits Rye: Klickitat, a majority Republican county, has a contentious relationship with the Yakama Nation [...]. “Klickitat County refuses to work with us,” said Takala. [...]

Fighting Rye's proposal has required the efforts of tribal attorneys, archaeologists and government staffers from a number of departments. [...]

And Rye’s project is just one of dozens proposed within the Yakama Nation’s 10 million-acre treaty territory. Maps from the tribe and the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife show that of the 51 wind and solar projects currently proposed statewide — not including geothermal or pumped hydro storage projects, which are also renewable energy developments — at least 34 are on or partially on the Yakama Nation’s ceded lands.

---

Headline, images, graphics, captions, and text by: B. Toastie Oaster (High Country News). “Green colonialism is flooding the Pacific Northwest.” As published at The Wenatchee World. 25 March 2023.

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Part 5 (Yandere Sabo x Reader)

on Ao3

All the other chapters

You meet Ace over dinner. Sabo makes a snail call.

You didn’t react when Sabo mentioned Ace’s name, just continued trudging behind him. Interesting, even before his execution, Ace's name brought a certain amount of curiosity and notoriety. You were trying to take in information about the island as you walked along the path to the house.  There was no point, it was a small uncharted island in the middle of nowhere, no one could find it without a permanent log pose. It was an autumn island but was currently in its spring season. Sabo liked the island a lot and had been enjoying the little time he was able to spend on it. If Sabo hadn’t had to leave all the time for missions, he would have loved to spend his time on the island. It had a natural waterfall and small freshwater lagoon, some wildlife, and a lot of shady trees and vegetation.�� You were looking at some of the wildflowers that had grown along the side of the beaten path to the house. You raised your hands as if to magnify a purple flower but stopped yourself, finally noticing that Sabo was watching you.

"It's a little chilly out, would you like my jacket?" Sabo suggested. You shook your head to decline his offer.

“What were you doing about a year and a half ago?” Sabo asked you. You scrunched your little nose in thought, eyebrows drawn.

“Working,” you replied quietly, not giving any further detail. Ah, you were wary of him now that you felt better and were on land. It was a reasonable reaction to have, Sabo didn’t mind. You didn’t see the bigger picture, didn't understand the plans Sabo had for you. Anyone would be upset by a drastic change, especially one they didn’t plan themselves. 

The island was a perfect place for you to stay for the time being. You would be safe, unable to be tracked by the Marines. Sabo knew they would try to find you, bring you back to their base, and he couldn’t let that happen. As a bonus, there was no one else to talk to on the island besides him and his brother. You would get over your fear and nervousness of him if you had no one else to interact with. If he’d taken you back to the RA headquarters, he knew you’d be a companion to Koala, make friends with Betty and Lindbergh, and he just knew Iva would love you. So for now you needed to stay isolated with them on the island. They’d all get to know you in a few months when Sabo brought you to Momoiro. He knew you were lonely, you’d gravitate to him and Ace sooner or later. Sabo knew Ace would like you, he just had to get over some of his…issues. Sabo planned to keep you here until you’d accepted your situation - and him. 

“Are you familiar with Marineford?” Sabo asked.

“Um, the new one or the old one? I know the old one was destroyed and Whitebeard and Gol D. Roger’s son were killed there but I never caught up completely on the news.” You started wringing your hands, Sabo noticed, as if you were worried about being caught. “I was supposed to but I had a lot to do and I was busy -”

“Researching,” Sabo said, finishing your sentence for you. Your face soured, but Sabo wasn’t making fun of you, you were as dedicated to your field as he was to his own. Making your way to the little house Sabo shared with Ace, he held open the unlocked door for you. It was dark inside, all the curtains drawn, the air musty and stale. Ah, Ace must be stewing again. At least it was warm inside, you were only wearing Sabo’s old tunic.

“Ace, c’mere, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he called out into the darkness. Sabo moved towards the curtains and you moved along with him. You looked like you were scared that someone was going to pop out of the shadows. Sabo slowed down so you’d bump into him while you looked around. It was foolish, but he relished any contact he could have with you. “Aaaaaaace,” Sabo called out in a sing-song voice, “where aaaaaaare youuuuu?” Sabo opened one of the curtains, sunlight now pouring into the room. You yelped as you saw Ace, slouching on the couch, arms folded and frowning, staring silently at you. You bumped back into Sabo again, this time he reached out and held your upper arm for ‘support.’

“Ace, stop moping for a few minutes. We have a guest.” Sabo stood behind you, almost presenting you to his brother. Ace glared at you, still silent. “Oh, don’t be mad. It’s time you saw someone other than me,” Sabo said, rolling his eyes. Ace leaned forward, stood up, and left the house, slamming the door behind him, making you jump again. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back when he gets hungry,” Sabo said, patting your shoulder. 

Your POV

You weren’t worried whether Sabo’s brother would be back or not. He scared the shit out of you, sitting there in the darkness, staring at you. He didn’t bear a lot of physical resemblance to Sabo, but the staring reminded you of Sabo. Ace had long, wavy black hair, reaching past his shoulder blades. It looked unkempt, like he hadn’t brushed it in a long time. He was wearing a Wano style yukata, with no shirt underneath. He had a lot of bandages over his chest, nearly the entire area was covered. 

“Ace has been having a…rough time,” Sabo hedged. “But he’s actually really nice. You’ll like him, he’s like me in a lot of ways.” You weren’t sure you liked Sabo , much less Ace, but you didn’t voice that thought out loud. You appreciated Sabo’s kindness when you were ill, but you’d been fine without his help, and you definitely didn’t want to be kidnapped. If your meeting with Sakazuki had gone well, you were expecting a promotion and transfer to another base. But now you weren’t sure you’d ever see anyone besides Sabo and his brother ever again.

Sabo opened more of the curtains and windows, letting in the fresh air. “Much better,” he said to himself. Turning to you, he clapped his hands together with a smile. “Let’s give you a tour of the house, yes?” Sabo led you through the house, starting with the living room. The living room, kitchen, Sabo’s office and a bathroom were all on the first floor while closets, another bathroom, and the two bedrooms were on the second. It was clear people were living there, but there was something missing. The house wasn’t decorated at all, no photos, no art, nothing to make it a home. It felt like a hospital room, it had the basic necessities but nothing personal. 

“You’re welcome in any unlocked room of the house, you live here now. That room,” he said, pointing to a closed door, “is Ace’s.” It looked like the door had been kicked and stabbed a few times. “This one,” Sabo gestured to another door on the right, “is ours.” 

“W-what do you mean ours ?” you stammered, suddenly uncomfortable. You knew you were wearing Sabo’s clothes on Sabo’s island, but you hadn’t thought he would be so…forward. You were abruptly reminded of the differences in your heights, weights, and fighting abilities. You took a step back, but Sabo took one forward, keeping you near him.

“Our room,” Sabo said slowly, as if you were confused about the meaning of his words. “We were already sharing a room on the ship and I thought it worked out well. Besides, there aren’t any more rooms or any other houses on the island. I’m not saying we have to share the same bed, ” Sabo said, rolling his eyes. You hadn’t given much thought to where Sabo had been sleeping on the ship, but you supposed you’d been sharing a room in some way.

“Oh, um, ok. I can, um, sleep on the floor. I don’t mind,” you offered. Sabo balked at your statement.

“We’ll figure it out later,” he said dismissively. Something told you that you wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor. “Now, let’s get some food going. I’m worried about you after that trip. We need to get you healthier, starting with proper nutrition.” Sabo was so serious at that moment, like he was considering all the ways he could help you feel better. He did also cause some of your problems, but you didn’t think he wanted to hear that. 

Sabo brought you to the small kitchen and guided you to the chairs. The kitchen had bar style seating overlooking the main cooking area, complete with barstools. Sabo opened cabinets and drawers, taking stock of the food that was left. Earlier, when Sabo took off your blindfold, you saw that there were crates being unloaded as well, so you knew there would be more food. You hoped Sabo was a good cook, it wasn’t really your forte. You could make a few dishes very well, but were content to eat whatever the mess hall cooked. You found cooking boring and didn’t like spending your time on it. Sabo had his back turned to you, filling a pitcher of water from a barrel. He set it in front of you, along with a cup.

“Here, sit and drink some water. I’ll cook.” You sat at his command, watching him in silence. Sabo started removing some of his layers in preparation for cooking, putting his jacket on the back of the chair next to you. He didn’t take off his gloves, though, even after rolling up his sleeves to cook. Sabo took off his top hat, looking for a place to put it. He reached over, and put it on your head with an unblinking stare and a smile. You paused mid-sip, unsure what to do. You felt like a wild animal that had been sighted by a hunter. You reached up and took the hat off your head, placing it on the counter next to you. Sabo gave a nervous laugh.

“Sorry, I was just trying to be silly. Looks good on you, though.” Sabo brushed off the strange interaction and started pulling out ingredients from the cabinets. He was talking to you, almost monologuing, as you sipped your water and listened, hands shaking slightly. You were feeling unprotected and exposed, fully at the mercy of the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army. Sabo didn’t notice, and kept up the one sided conversation while preparing what looked like stew. As he prepared the food, your mouth watered. Sabo may have kidnapped you and brought you to a secluded island, but he could make a delicious smelling stew. 

“-found this island by accident, and I ended up living here over the past year. It’s quaint and out of the way, which I like. I actually prefer spring islands, but this one is nice too. Ace has also been here for about a year, recovering. We’re not actually -”

The door banged open, making you startle again. You were getting tired of Ace scaring you, it made you even more anxious than you already were. You had to put down the cup you’d been holding your hands were so unsteady. Ace stalked over to the counter, sitting at the next bar stool. He moved Sabo’s hat from in front of his seat to the couch rather delicately, you noticed. He frowned at you but didn’t say anything.

“Welcome back, Ace. Want some food?” Sabo ladeled some incredible smelling stew over rice, handing the bowl to Ace. Ace grunted, and started shoveling it in with a spoon. Literally shoveling. “We’ll do introductions after you’ve eaten,” Sabo declared. Ace barely looked up from his food. Sabo handed another bowl to you.

“For you, Mag - er - what should I call you now? I know you asked me not to call you by that atrocious nickname anymore.” You took the bowl and set it down, thinking. You didn’t want him to know your real name, to know even more information about you than he already did.

“Um, I’m not -” 

Sabo cut you off, smiling. “How about Sunshine?” Sabo was clearly excited about this idea, but you couldn’t understand the nickname. Was he making fun of you?

“Sunshine? Why Sunshine?” You gave him a distrustful look. 

“Because you make my day brighter!” Sabo said with a grin. That earned another grunt from Ace, who looked like he was about to pass out face down. Even though you were at his mercy, you didn’t like Sabo mocking you.

“I don’t think so, I don’t - I don’t do that. That’s not me.” You looked down at your stew, not wanting to meet his gaze. You felt a leather glove underneath your chin, pulling your head up to look at Sabo, who had a fond look on his face. 

“It’s true. You are my sunshine. You’ll believe me eventually.” Sabo rubbed his thumb over your cheek, then let go. You felt confused. You liked Sabo - well, had liked Sabo - but this was too much for you. You were his only romantic choice on the island, that was probably why he was doing weird things. You ignored it for now. 

“Now then, Ace, this is Sunny. Sunny, this is Ace,” Sabo said, taking the seat on your other side. You were in between the two brothers and it was uncomfortably silent.

“Ace, say hello. Don’t be rude,” Sabo said in a clipped tone. You could tell Sabo was getting annoyed, and that made you worried. You’d never seen Sabo mad before, but you could tell it wasn’t something you wanted to see. Ace still didn’t say anything, steadfastly staring at his bowl as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Pardon us for a moment,” Sabo said to you, smiling. With that, he walked around you and grabbed Ace by the ear. Sabo yanked him backwards off the stool, causing Ace to yelp and stumble. Sabo didn’t let go and dragged a floundering Ace out the door, slamming it behind them. You heard a muffled Sabo talking to his brother, mentioning something about manners and hospitality. You finally heard Ace’s voice as he shouted back at his brother. 

“FINE!” Ace yelled at Sabo, opening the door again. He gave you a once over, like he was finally seeing you.

“I’m Ace. Nice to meet you,” he grumbled, inclining his head slightly. He sat back down next to you and picked his spoon back up.

“I’m, uh, Sunny, I guess?” You’d go with Sabo’s cringey suggestion for now. You didn’t think he knew your identity and you weren’t going to provide it. 

“Great! Now we all know each other. I met Sunny at Bayonette -”

“You kidnapped me from Bayonette,” you interjected quietly. You weren’t going to let him forget that you weren’t here voluntarily. 

“You a Marine?” Ace asked, still watching his food.

“Yes,” you replied.

“No,” Sabo replied at the same time. “She was a Marine, but no longer.” You looked at Sabo curiously. Sometimes the way he spoke reminded you of nobles you’d met a few times. But you didn’t know any nobles who joined the Revolutionary Army. It was probably just a quirk, like his suits and top hat. Ace finished his stew and got off his chair.

“See ya around,” he said, going to his room and shutting the door behind him.

Sabo POV

Ace was being annoying but the introduction had actually gone better than Sabo had expected. Ace hadn’t seen anyone besides Sabo since they’d come to live on the island together over a year ago. It was time for Ace to start reacclimating to society, starting with meeting new people. When he met you, he knew you’d be a good person for Ace to befriend. You were smart but oblivious, kind but reserved, intelligent but humble, similar qualities to those Ace had. Since Marineford, Ace’s self confidence and self worth issues had increased exponentially. Sabo tried talking to him about it but he could tell that Ace wasn’t taking to heart what Sabo said. Maybe if he heard it from someone else he would actually listen.

You were still eating, but Sabo unfortunately had work to do before the end of the day. All part of being second in command of an army, he supposed. 

“Stay here and finish your food,” Sabo declared, pouring you another cup of water. “I have to make a call in my office, it shouldn’t take too long. When you’re done eating, feel free to explore the house or the island. If you’re cold, there’s more clothes in our room. Wear anything you want.” Sabo said, putting a hand on your back. You looked up at him like a little lamb, large eyes so innocent and lost. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He had nearly lost his self control when he saw you in his hat, picturing you riding his cock wearing it and nothing else. He’d get some physical contact with you again tonight, after you slept. You’d be sharing a bed, whether you knew it or not. 

Sabo left you and walked briskly to his office, needing to call Dragon. He’d delayed calling for a while, wanting to get his thoughts in order before calling his boss. Sabo didn’t like doing anything impulsively, he preferred to plan meticulously and strategically. He needed to ensure Dragon saw the benefit of having you as an RA asset, rather than some woman he grabbed for comfort. He woke the white den den mushi and started placing his call.

Puru puru puru puru puru puru…

Dragon picked up on the second ring. 

“It’s Sabo. Mission ‘Bastille’ completed, with a deviation in plans.” He knew Koala would have informed Dragon already but he wanted the boss to hear it from him as well.

“Welcome back. Go on.” 

“No further research will be completed on the project, permanently. I was not able to destroy the base as desired but will return at a later date to do so.”

“Why? You were there long enough.”

“A complication arose. I captured the lead scientist, she was working alone. She remains with me at the current time. She could be a critical asset for the RA.” Sabo didn’t actually care if Dragon approved or not, but his life would be easier if he did. Dragon didn’t answer so Sabo continued.

“I believe her to be the scientist behind Project Angel. Her area of expertise and writing style suggest it. She could continue innovation on the project, perhaps to completion.” Sabo let it drop, he knew Dragon well enough to know he was thinking over the proposition. The line went silent for 30 seconds. 

“Gain her confidence, have her work on furthering the project. She may remain in your custody as long as you believe her research to be credible. A ship will be sent to your location.” Sabo smiled to himself. Dragon was hooked, as Sabo knew he’d be. He knew dropping his thoughts about your involvement with Project Angel was enough to show your usefulness. Sabo wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, no matter what the outcome of the conversation was, but he wanted to provide you with purpose. You could serve the Revolutionary Army, at least from afar. Sabo wasn’t surprised Dragon ordered him to the base, but also wasn’t happy about it. He would have to leave you on the island with Ace for a few weeks. But, it would give the two of you time to bond and enjoy each other’s company. Ace, despite his vocal objections, craved human comfort and contact, which you would provide to him. 

Sabo’s heart felt lighter, despite the news of upcoming travel, as he hung up the snail. He wrote a few notes on some reports, read through a note or two and then decided to leave for the night. He left the office door ajar purposefully. He knew you were hiding in the bathroom and listening in, but he wanted to see what you would do. He went from the office to your shared room to freshen up the linens and prepare the room for the night. And to watch you, of course.

Your POV

After your dinner, you’d gone to the restroom near Sabo’s office. You hadn’t been planning on snooping ( again…) but while coming out, you heard yourself being mentioned in conversation. You would need to gather all the information you could if you wanted to escape the island. You heard the tail end of Sabo’s conversation with…Dragon? Obviously, if Sabo was second in command, the only person who could give him orders was the Supreme Commander, Dragon. You were just surprised to hear the deep voice coming out of the snail, you couldn’t imagine any other Marine had heard it and lived. 

Sabo said you had been involved in ‘Project Angel,’ but you weren’t sure what that was. You’d never worked on anything with that name, but maybe the RA gave their own code names to Marine projects. You weren’t generally working on complete projects, just given assignments that didn’t always link together. How did they know about your work anyway? How did Sabo know your writing style? None of it was published, it was all classified information that only top Marines had access to. 

Your stomach soured as you heard Dragon confirm the conclusion you’d already drawn yourself. Sabo wanted you to work for them, maybe on the assignment you had been assigned when Sabo kidnapped you. Dragon had given him direct orders to get you to complete work for them by gaining your confidence. No wonder Sabo had started touching you and put his hat on your head. He was trying to endear himself to you by any means necessary. You distantly wondered if any of it was real or if it was all engineered to make you fall for him. Anything for the cause, you supposed. You felt dejected, cast aside yet again. 

During your stay on the ship, you’d gotten too comfortable with Sabo, relying on him time and time again. Well, no longer. You were determined to get off the island, get back to the Marines and never see Sabo ever again. Besides, you had started worrying about your family again. They might have heard news that you were kidnapped, which would devastate them. Even more than that, you were anxious about what would happen to them now that your paychecks wouldn’t be coming in. You hadn’t worked for the Marines long enough to have a pension, only a small payout if you died in the call of duty. But since you weren’t confirmed dead, your family wouldn’t be eligible. You chewed on your cuticle as you thought of your sister with EDS, your overworked mother, and your younger siblings. You would either have to escape soon or come up with another way to get money to them. 

You heard Sabo leave the office, the door left open. He did say you could go into any unlocked room in the house. If he didn’t want you going to his office, he would have told you it was off limits or locked it. Peeking out of the door, you made sure Sabo wasn’t there. You darted from the bathroom to the office as quickly as you could. The office was the same as it was when he gave you the house tour in the afternoon. It was small but cozy, with an overstuffed loveseat against one wall, and a large desk that took up most of the space in the room. On the desk were many papers in different piles, sorted by category. There were piles of books and articles about Devil Fruits, some old newspaper clippings, and letters and reports related to the RA. In the corner of the desk was an old photo of him and Ace as kids, with another young boy. That must be the third brother Sabo mentioned once. They looked happy, all their faces squished together smiling. Sabo was wearing a smaller version of the same hat, and he and Ace had lead pipes. It made you think about your own siblings. You chewed on your nail as your hand shook.

On the opposing corner was the snail that Sabo had used to call Dragon. It looked different than snails you’d seen before. You’d never been given your own Marine snail, you just used the office one when you needed to make any calls. Creeping over to the sleeping snail, you put your shaking hand out to wake it up. Maybe you could call your base and tell them that you were alive? Let them know where you were? You were nervous, scared that Sabo would find you and punish you for trying to call for help.

Putting your shaking hand on the snail’s shell, it woke up and waited for you to make a call. You wavered back and forth, unsure what to do. Ultimately, you pulled your hand back, the snail returning to slumber. You didn’t want to waste a good opportunity when you didn’t have information. You didn’t know where you were or any coordinates that could help them find you. The call could be traced but only if you were able to stay on the line for 3 minutes or longer, which you didn’t think you could do without Sabo finding out. No, you’d wait to make a call when you thought it more advantageous. Maybe Ace could be tricked into giving you more information.

Sabo POV

Sabo was proud of you. He knew it wasn’t fair to test you, he knew you were still unsure of what his intentions were. After overhearing his phone call with Dragon, surely you understood that Sabo respected you for your abilities, not just your looks. He watched you extend a shaking hand to the snail, even going so far as to wake it up. You didn’t know, but the snail would only call Dragon, it was a white den den mushi. Chewing your lip, you were at a crossroads but decided not to call. Sabo was happy to see that your trust in him was growing, that you didn’t immediately reach out for rescue. You were starting to accept your place with him and on the island. Maybe you thought to find out more information first, he mused, but Sabo wasn’t foolish. He would only leave the snail out this once, taking it with him when he had to leave. Ace had his own that could call Sabo, you’d be fine.

“Find anything interesting?” Sabo asked, making you squeak. He was leaning against the door jamb, watching you look at his desk. He felt bad for scaring you, but it was hard not to when everything made you jump.

“Oh, uh, n-no, nothing. Just, um, looking. I-it’s ok, right? You said I could?” If Sabo’s soldiers acted like you did when caught, he would send them all back to basic training. But in you it was endearing.

“Of course you can look. Anything that is accessible is available to you. It’s your house too,” Sabo said, smiling kindly at you. You were still nibbling on your lip, making Sabo want to do the same. “You look tired, would you like to go to sleep?”

You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes. Sabo knew you’d be tired since you drank 5 cups of the drugged water. He should tell Ace not to drink it, he thought, otherwise the lug would sleep even more than he already did. But that was tomorrow’s problem. 

“Come, I’ll show you the bedroom.” Sabo crossed the room and took you by the crook of your elbow before you could protest. Yes, it was 15 feet away, but Sabo wanted to touch you as much as he could. He guided you out of the office to your room. You poked your head in.

“There’s - there’s only one bed,” you sputtered. Sabo smiled, tightening his grip on your arm. 

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@nymeriiiia

[sad-leon]

hi i'm so good at making aus :D

i cannot be stopped

anyways, meet my new son!! his name is yoshi and i care about him very much

When F!Leo went back in time he went back to the day they were mutated and stole the little slider away to raise him as a fighter so he can jump in and prevent disaster from destroying his family in this timeline

Leo names the little slider Yoshi after Splinter and they live in an abandoned farmhouse outside the city. Yoshi is friends with almost all the wildlife and loves taking naps in the woods