#surprised i only saw one or two questions about the executors -> the one I saw was asking if it was in Gaider's plan for the series lmao

[lizzybeeee]

Friendly reminder the Dragon Age Devs AMA is happening later today for all you Americans out there! Consider me very impressed that a majority of the questions with the greatest upvotes are quite critical of the game!

I linked it below!

[goldenmessenger]

TS Actor AU: The Family We Chose - Part One

Summary: One year ago, Thomas discovered something new about himself, and now he's finally ready to act on that information.Virgil gave up along time ago, so he doesn't expect to hear what he was searching for call his name.Many questions are asked, and they will be answered, with time.

Read on Ao3 here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So, first entry for the AU that doesn’t feature Remus, Roman, or Dillon. I saw your responses to my ideas post, so my current plan is to try to work on all of them! I realized working on Reach Out Your Hand that I had burned myself out a little on angst. So I’m going to try to rotate through different stories. So there will be another part to this, but first, we’ll get to see what Logan and Patton (+Virgil) were doing during the events of I’ve Got You Brother and Reach Out Your Hand.

As usual, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Content Warnings:

Adoption, feelings of abandonment, minor negative feelings towards adoption (mostly due to how a character’s parents handle it)

*************************************************

It had been a year. One year since Thomas’s dad had died, officially making Thomas an orphan as his mother had died when Thomas was a child. He was alone.

Or so Thomas had thought.

Then his father’s executor brought him a letter that revealed that Thomas had been adopted, and his parents had never told him. 

Thomas had spiraled for a little bit after that. He knew there was nothing wrong with being adopted, but Thomas felt like that was easier to say about other people who knew from the beginning that they were adopted. Finding out like this, after both of his parents were dead? That made him feel like it was something to be ashamed of. Like his adoption was some deep, dark secret. 

It had taken a lot of therapy and a lot of conversations with his close friends for Thomas to stop resenting his parents. Both the ones who had raised him, and the biological ones that Thomas had never known. The ones who had given him up.

And even more work to get Thomas to this point. The point where 8 weeks ago, he’d sent in a DNA test to Ancestry. The point where he now sat on the floor with his friends Patton and Joan, in the former’s Atlanta apartment, staring at the email he’d gotten. The email that he couldn’t bring himself to open. 

“You know, it could be nothing.” Joan said, in an attempt to break the silence. When Patton and Thomas looked at them, they added, “Didn’t you say before, Thomas, when you were researching, that it’s pretty common to get a third or fourth cousin, and have to work your way from there?”

“Yeah.” Thomas said, finally. “It’s uncommon to get a direct match right out of the gate. If you do, you’re really lucky.” And Thomas knew that. Knew that this likely wouldn’t be an instant solution. This would just be the start of a rocky road, and a lot of long searching. But, well, he didn’t know. Part of him was hoping for an easy fix, an instant find, but the other part? That was the part of him that was keeping him from opening this email. The part of him that was suddenly scared of actually meeting his bio-family. 

What if he didn’t like them? What if they didn’t like him? They’d given him up for a reason, after all. Thomas didn’t even know if there was anything worth finding.

Patton and Joan saw Thomas’s hesitation, and exchanged a glance.

“How about this?” Patton said, doing his best to smile at Thomas reassuringly. “Joan or I could open it for you, if that’s easier, and tell you the results?”

Thomas nodded, and handed the laptop over to Patton. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to speak. The anticipation had his stomach tied in more knots than a tangled pair of headphones.

Patton opened the email, and followed the link inside it. Joan squeezed Thomas’s hand in theirs. All Thomas could do was focus on Patton’s face.

Suddenly, Patton’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“What, what is it?” Thomas questioned anxiously. Patton merely turned around the laptop.

At the top of the page was a name.

Virgil Bailey

Member Since 2012, Last Logged in September 16, 2013

But what Thomas found more interesting, and what had likely caused Patton’s surprise, were the sentences below all of that.

Possible range: Full - Half Siblings

Confidence: Extremely High

Thomas stared.

“I-I have a brother.” Thomas said, feeling breathless and a little lightheaded. 

“Click on the profile, Patton.” Joan urged. “Let’s see what this guy looks like!”

“Only if Thomas wants to.” Patton reminded Joan.

“Yeah. I think I do.” Thomas confirmed.

And Patton clicked on the profile. All three friends gasped.

The young man in the photo was dressed in a simple purple shirt and gray hoodie, looking squarely into the camera. And he looked so much like Thomas! Brown hair, matching eyes, the same nose. And it really began to sink in for Thomas. This was his brother.

“Wait a minute.” Joan said suddenly. “I think I know him!”

Patton and Thomas both immediately turned to Joan.

“What do you mean, you know him?” Thomas questioned, a little confused.

Joan was scrolling through their phone, until they finally flipped it around to show Thomas an instagram page with the name Virgil Bailey at the top.

“Found him!” They said triumphantly. “I almost didn’t recognize that picture of him, but I knew the name was familiar.”

The post Joan had pulled up was a series of selfies. The first depicted the same young man as in the Ancestry profile picture, though Thomas instantly understood why Joan didn’t recognize it at first.

The Virgil in this picture had multiple piercings in each ear, plus an eyebrow piercing in his left eyebrow. His hair, instead of cleanly and simply cut like in the previous photo, was a bright purple, and styled to hang in front of his eyes. The eyes in question were framed with dramatic purple eyeshadow and eyeliner. However, compared to the rest of him, his clothes were fairly simple. Just a long-sleeved black shirt, and black jeans.

“That’s a pretty color.” Patton commented, but Thomas barely noticed as he swiped through the photos.

The first selfie seemed to show Virgil sitting down in a cafe. The second was similar, but there was someone in the background, making a funny face at the camera. Thomas took a double-take, and realized who it was.

“Joan? What—”

“Shh.” Joan said waving a hand at Thomas. “Look at the rest first.”

The third picture showed Joan right behind Virgil, giving the young man bunny ears. The young man in question had clearly been just starting to realize Joan was there as the camera had taken the photo, judging by his wide eyes.

In the fourth, and last, picture, Virgil and Joan were sittiing next to each other, with Joan beaming widely into the camera, and Virgil looking happy, if a little surprised.

The caption read:

Was on my lunch break at a cute local cafe, and look who I ran into! The famous Director Stokes, who also currently happens to kinda be my boss. I’m working tech for a movie they’re filming in the area! They’re even cooler in person, and took the time to learn my name and talk to me for a little bit. Doubt I’ll ever run into them again, or that they’ll remember my name, but now I’ve got a cool story for the future.

Thomas’s head snapped up. 

“Did he say he’s working tech on your movie right now?” Thomas said. Joan grinned wide.

“Yep.” They said, with the slightest hint of smugness. 

“The one I’m currently starring in?” Thomas said. “Watch it Burn and Rust?”

“Yep!” Joan said cheerfully. “I’d seen him around on set, and I photobombed his selfie because I was intrigued by how much he looked like you.” Joan did sober up a bit, expression turning serious. “I’d kinda thought it’d be kinda funny to laugh about later, but now we know why he looks like you.”

“Wow!” Patton said, eyes wide. “What are the odds of this sort of thing happening?”

“Small, probably.” Thomas said, quietly. He frowned, and turned to his friends. “What now?”

“Well,” Patton began, “I’d love to help you two plan, but I have to go back to San Francisco tomorrow. I told Dee I’d help him with the wedding plans.” Patton pouted. “It’s too bad, I’d love to meet your brother!”

“I think I probably won’t want to overwhelm him, but thanks for the offer.” Thomas said. “Besides, I’m guessing your brother will need your help to temper out more of Remus’s...extreme ideas.”

“You don’t even know half of it.” Patton sighed, tired. “Roman just texted me yesterday, begging me to help me convince Remus that it was a bad idea for him to pop out of the wedding cake to make an entrance into the reception. And that’s just the beginning of it. I haven’t even started on the ideas he’s had for Dillon’s bachelor party. To be honest, I think he might be trolling us a little.”

“Sounds like Remus!” Joan laughed. “You’ll have to say hi to that chaotic trash man for me!”

“I will.” Patton promised. “Now, Thomas, back to Virgil. It looks like he hasn’t been on Ancestry in a while, so if you send him a message on there he probably won’t get it. But you know now that he’ll be on the movie set with you. So what’s your plan?”

Thomas frowned, lost in thought.

“Well……”

*************************************************

The next day….

Virgil hummed to himself as he double-checked the lights on set, making sure they were secure. He liked moments like this, where it was just him, on top of a scissor lift adjusting lights. He was far away from the hustle and bustle on the ground below, and it was just him and the lights. Virgil turned to the controls and slowly lowered himself to the ground. His supervisor, Chris, greeted him as he got down. 

“The lights all secure up there, Virge?” 

“Yep, nice and tight, just like they should be.” Virgil replied, promptly. “They’ll be in place and ready for filming tomorrow.”

“Great, thank you Virge.” Chris said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep!” Virgil said. “Bright and early as usual, before anything with any amount of sanity is up.”

“You’ve got that right!” Chris said with a laugh. “See ya!”

Virgil smiled and waved, and walked away. He was looking forward to going home and collapsing. Mom would probably have food waiting for him, like she usually did when he had to work these long days. And he could continue to ignore the email notification he had gotten from Ancestry. They claimed that a new genetic match had been found. Virgil could care less.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up anymore.

He was about to exit the building, when he heard a voice behind him.

“Virgil! Virgil Bailey!”

Virgil turned, though groaning inwardly. Usually if someone was shouting his name like that it meant that something had gone wrong and he was needed to fix it. And he wouldn’t get home for another couple of hours. 

“What is it this time, Chris—” Virgil froze mid sentence. 

That was definitely not Chris. 

Not unless Chris had somehow figured out how to shapeshift himself into Thomas Freaking Sanders, Virgil’s idol and personal hero.

“M-Mr. Sanders.” Virgil stuttered, mind racing. Why on earth would Thomas Sanders know his name? How did Thomas Sanders even know that he existed. “Can I help you?”

“I-” Thomas began, but stopped mid sentence. For the first time, Virgil actually looked at him and realized something that shocked him. Thomas Sanders was nervous. About talking to him, Virgil Bailey, a complete unknown. Suddenly, Thomas spoke again.

“I-I was wondering if I could talk to you.”

“About?” Virgil questioned, genuinely curious, although the part of him that could never really trust anyone was on guard. Virgil had to protect himself first. He already knew the consequences of being too trusting all too well.

“W-well,” Thomas said, looking even more nervous, “I was hoping we could talk in private? Maybe on the way to dinner?”

“What?” Virgil said, stunned. “Why would you want to go to dinner with me? You don’t even know me?”

“Well, I—” Thomas sighed. “This isn’t going quite like I planned but—” “But?” Virgil said.

“I’m your brother.”

*************************************************

The silence in the back of Thomas’s limo was uncomfortable. Neither man quite knew how to break the silence that stretched between them like a rubber band. Tenuous and feeling like it could snap at any moment. 

Virgil kept turning things over in his head. He’d finally looked at that Ancestry email, and it had confirmed what Thomas had said. 

He still couldn’t quite believe it.

Finally, Thomas broke the silence.

“Look, I—” Thomas took a deep breath, the kind Virgil knew well. It was the kind of breath you only take when your brain is swirling with chaos, and you’re desperately trying to contain it. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.” Thomas said. “I know that this has to seem absolutely crazy. You probably didn’t even know I existed until I came to talk to you.” Thomas took another desperate breath, clearly still struggling to stay calm. “If you don’t want to have a relationship with me, I completely understa—”

“No!” Virgil said, feeling a sudden sense of urgency swell up within him. Thomas stopped talking, clearly taken aback by Virgil’s sudden interjection. Virgil realized he should probably clarify his statement.

“I mean,” Virgil said, “You’re wrong. I did know I had a brother. That’s why I got that Ancestry account, why I took the DNA test. And it wasn’t the only one I took either. I was hoping that I could find him, or you, I guess.”

“You were looking for me?” Thomas said softly. Virgil suddenly felt embarrassed at his own outburst and looked at his feet.

“Yeah, for years. I mean, I didn’t know who you were, but I knew that you were out there somewhere. But I got frustrated, and—” Virgil shrugged helplessly. “I gave up. Couldn’t take constantly getting my hopes up only to have them dashed.”

Silence again.

“What I mean is,” Virgil said, “I’d like to try for a relationship with you, if I haven’t screwed things up already.”

“You haven’t.” Thomas said. “And I’d like to try too.”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’m guessing you have some questions?” Virgil said.

“Yeah, I do,” said Thomas, “but we’ve been sitting here a while, and I did promise you dinner?” Thomas smiled hopefully at Virgil.

“Sure.” Virgil said, and smiled back.

*************************************************

Taglist:

@ironwoman359

@galacticguppy

@trashpanda-remus 

@atticusfinchthelegend

@ravenclawunicorn1

@voidvirgil

@dogwithpants

@dreaming-about-kittens

@ro-arts-blog

[jadelotusflower]

Fic: He Will Not Encumber Me (Han, Luke, OT era)

Luke gets drunk - Han cleans up the mess.

On A03 or under the cut

There were two things the Rebels did well, in Han Solo’s opinion. The first was hail a loss as a victory simply because it was not annihilation, and the second was to keep a well stocked bar in every officer’s mess. There was of course an obvious correlation between the two. 

It had been another brutal, demoralising loss for the Alliance, and Han wasn’t sure how many of those they had left in them. Yet what was left of the rebels celebrated because there was still a rebellion to be fought and therefore, still hope.

The embodiment of that hope was surrounded by a throng of fellow pilots, being hailed and toasted, fresh drinks being pressed into his hand the moment he finished the last one. Han had arrived late and took up his usual spot at the bar sipping a glass of Corellian whiskey, not quite ready to celebrate yet another brush with death. 

Of course, he didn’t blame the kid; he’d been promoted after all, and deserved at least one night to enjoy it with a drink - or fifteen. Han noted with amusement the wide grin that didn’t once falter, the blearly, unfocused look to the eyes, the slightly delayed reactions, and every now and then, distinct giggling. 

The newly minted Commander Skywalker was drunk. 

That in and of itself should not seem unusual, but it was rare to see Luke in such a state. Han remembered the first time he’d seen Luke drink alcohol, in those heady few hours after the medal ceremony on Yavin but before the evacuation. The ale had been flowing free then too, but while Luke had consumed as much as any of them, it hadn’t seemed to affect him in the same way, or at least not as quickly. 

He’d expected to be entertained by a fresh-off-the-farm boy scout giddy on victory and his first taste of real whiskey. But while his new friend and fellow survivor Antilles had slumped down onto the bar, laughing softly to himself and still clutching his glass, Luke had been perched happily on the stool beside him ordering another. 

“You drank in the Mos Eisley Cantina right?” Luke had said when Han had questioned him. 

“Yeah,” he’d confirmed, and made a face. “I didn’t think it was legal to sell distilled engine grease.”

“It’s Tatooine,” Luke had laughed darkly. “It’s only illegal if the Hutts don’t like it. But we have a saying too - if you can ferment it or distill it, you can drink it.”

“Whether you live to drink it again is not the barkeep’s problem I guess.”

“In Mos Eisley, sure - in Anchorhead they relied on repeat business,” Luke told him with a shrug. “But it was no less potent, there was a sill out the back using whatever desert plants we could get our hands on.”

“Tatooine moonshine, huh?” Han had lifted his glass in salute. “I’m impressed kid.”

But Luke’s tolerance for alcohol seemed to go beyond a familiarity with the strong stuff - of course there was also his metabolism that Han liked to joke was faster than the Falcon on the Kessel Run. He’d once seen the kid put away three dozen spiced ribenes (with a side order of tomo-slaw), chase them with a basket of deep fried tubers and still have room for half a sic-six layer cake. 

He won every drinking game he was challenged to for a year after joining the Rebellion, which always ended up with his opponent either slumped on the floor, vomiting into a trash can, or on one ignoble occasion, in the medward getting their stomach pumped. They’d all been given a week’s latrine duty after that, and drinking games expressly banned. 

Of course, the Alliance couldn’t police what happened planetside, and more than once when they’d been in need of some quick funds Han had tried to persuade him to invite challenge in the local bar. Luke had always refused, but had eventually told him the reason in that way of his - half pride, half humility.

“It’s the Force Han,” he’d said. “If I concentrate, I can feel the alcohol in my bloodstream, push it along and make it metabolise quickly.”

“The Force.” Han had been unconvinced. “Okay then.”

“I’m serious, Han. I think I’ve been doing it unconsciously all my life, but now I can control it.”

“Well kid,” Han had slapped his shoulder, and grinned. “Finally an upside to this Jedi business! So let’s pick a mark and we’ll have the credits for the parts we need by morning.”

Luke had shaken his head and sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you see, it gives me an advantage. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair would be me enjoying a Corellian sunset with a beautiful woman and surrounded by piles of credits, not on this junk planet with you scrounging for spare parts.” Han threw up his hands. “No one in this joint is playing fair - the barkeep’s watering down the whiskey, the sabacc dealer’s got cards up his sleeve, even that slot machine on the wall is rigged. Everyone’s a cheat, you just gotta be the best one.”

“Not me.” Luke was resolute, and while Han secretly admired his firm moral stance, in reality it just made things that much harder for them. 

They’d made it off the planet eventually, but Han had never questioned Luke’s alcohol tolerance again. 

Which was why the scene before him was so strange. Han watched Luke closely for a few more minutes, trying to determine if it was artifice. But when Luke knocked over a decanter and began apologising profusely to a potted plant rather than the bartender, he decided it couldn’t be. 

There was only one explanation left - that Luke was drunk because he wanted to be. 

Han wasn’t sure if he was relieved the kid was giving himself a much needed release, or deeply concerned that he was seeking a desperate escape. He sidled his way over to the throng surrounding Luke, hovering on the outskirts of the pilot pack. 

Wedge Antilles clinked a fork against the side of his glass and announced he was going to make a speech. Oddly, the young pilot always kept a fork on his person, and when Han had once called it weird, Wedge had given him a wry look. 

“What’s weird is putting something in your mouth that’s had a thousand other tongues on it,” he’d said, and pointed his fork at him. “Think about it.”

“No thanks,” Han had said politely, avoiding the low hanging fruit of the unintended double entendre. Others hadn’t his restraint, and since then the fork in question, and Wedge’s penchant for a clean utensil (double entendre absolutely intended) had been the source of much fun. 

“Alright Antilles,” called another pilot Han couldn’t remember the name of. “Stop banging it about!”

“Yeah, keep that thing sheathed,” yet another rejoined. “There are minors present!” He put his arm around a colleague who Han knew was of age, but had a boyish face that had earned him the nickname Baby. They all had little names for each other outside their call signs, which could change from mission to mission and through movement between squadrons. Luke had, for obvious reasons after Yavin, been given the name Starkiller.

“Oh kriff off the lot of you,” Wedge made a rude gesture, but was smiling, unoffended.  “I’m going to make my speech.”

He made quite a show of clearing his throat until they were all listening. “To Luke,” he raised his glass, “or should I say, Sir.” He gave a little mock curtsy and no one laughed harder than the man himself.

“I remember the first time I met Luke,” he reminisced. “When he told me quite nonchalantly that his favourite pastime on Tatooine was shooting at desert rats, and I thought this guy is in for a rude awakening once he actually gets in a proper ship. Seriously, Luke,” Wedge wagged a finger at him. “There’s no rats in space.”

“Says you,” Luke laughed. “The Executor’s full of them!”

“But much to my surprise,” Wedge continued, “the Empire’s most dangerous weapon blew up like many a mangry rodent before it, thanks to my friend the Starkiller. Since then there’s no one else I’d rather fly alongside, even if I now have to call him Sir for the privilege.” 

Wedge gave him a lazy salute and raised his glass. “To Commander Skywalker!”

“Commander Skywalker!” the cheer went through the room, and Wedge clapped Luke on the shoulder as they downed their ales at a rapid pace. The former finished first, wiping his mouth and banging his empty glass down on the bar.

“Okay, enough speeches,” he threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s dance!”

Han was content to leave them to it, leaning against the bar and savoring his whiskey. It was good to see Luke let loose a bit - the poor kid rarely got the chance since between his obligations to the Rebellion and trying to train himself to be a Jedi, Han didn’t know when Luke had time to sleep, let alone have fun. Now he’d been promoted to command, another burden he seemed happy to take upon himself without thought of the consequences. 

He’d had seen it too many times among pilots and revolutionaries - they shone bright and burned out quickly, taking on more responsibility, more risk, until their luck ran out. But there was no reasoning with the kid - Han had tried, and Leia was no help, she was exactly the same way. So he had to content himself with keeping close, watching over Luke, ready to pull him back from the brink when he strayed too close.

Han sighed as he signalled to the barkeep for another drink. How he’d become mother hen to these rag-tag rebels, he didn’t know. But there is was. 

Aggressive rock music blared over the speakers, and Han watched in amusement Luke banging his head along in time with the heavy drum beats, mouthing the words and moving his feet with surprising rhythm. It was one of those anti-Imperial anthems, played in many an underground club to whip people into a rebellious frenzy, and a popular choice among the young pilots looking to offload some post-battle energy. 

Well, the other popular choice, Han smirked as he saw a few pilots pair up and scoot off to celebrate surviving another day. A few hopefuls sidled up to Luke, and while he danced and laughed and shared a drink with them, one by one they gave up as they realised he wasn’t the one-night stand type. He'd learned the hard way early on; his mission with Nakari Kalen had been the beginnings of a sweet romance until it had ended in tragedy, and the other brief relationships he'd observed Luke have had seemed to have made him battle-shy. After the losses that day, Han didn't blame him. 

Eventually the revelry died down - Wedge passed out on the lounge snoring loudly, and a few others sprawled out less comfortably on the floor. But Luke had held out, and stumbled over to Han at the bar with a boozy grin.

“What’re drinking?” Luke asked, reaching for the still mostly full bottle Han had slowly been working on.

“Something too expensive to waste on someone already drunk.” Han pulled the bottle out of his reach.

Luke laughed. “Aw, come on Han.”

“I think you’ve had enough anyway,” Han stowed the whiskey behind the bar, counting that Luke no longer had the physical dexterity to reach over it. “I’m cutting you off.”

“You can’t boss me around anymore, Han.” Luke leaned heavily on the bar.  “I’m a Commander now - I outrank you.”

“Is that so?” Han was about to remind him that his title of Captain was because of his ship, not a rank in the Alliance military, but it there was little point.  

“Yeah, it’s so.” Luke poked him in the chest. “I can just say, Captain Solo, fetch me a hydrospanner, or Captain Solo, stop flirting so outrageously with Leia, and you have to comply.”

Han chuckled to himself and patted Luke on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works, kid.”

“And you don’t get to call me kid anymore.” Luke brushed him away.

“Alright, Commander,” Han humoured him. “Tell you what. You walk from one side of this room to the other unaided and you can have as many more drinks as you want."

Luke stared at him for a few long moments, glanced at the large transparisteel window that made up one wall, and the exit located at the other. He straightened and cleared his throat, but then closed his eyes as if the room was spinning. 

“Fine.” He pouted and leaned back against the bar. “Spoilspot.”

“Hey, you’re the Starkiller,” Han joked, “I’m the Fun Killer.”

Luke laughed more than even Han felt the remark warranted. “You’re funny,” he slurred, and laughed again. “Do you know you’re funny?” 

“Yeah, I know.” He surveyed the room, not for the first time noting a significant absence. “Leia wasn’t here tonight.”

Luke shrugged. “Strategy meetings. After today, I guess they have a lot to talk about.”

“What, and leaving out the exalted Commander Skywalker?” 

“I’m excepted...expected tomorrow.”

Han eyed him, thinking it would take a miracle for Luke to have sobered up by then. He leaned over the bar and poured a glass of water from the tap, forcing it into the kid’s hand.

“She did come by and congratulate me,” Luke said as he took a sip. “Kissed me too.”

“What?” Han felt a traitorous tug in his heart.

“Here.” Luke pointed to his cheek, and Han was disturbed by how much he was relieved. Their shared affection for Leia was something they never talked about, and Han could barely acknowledge he had affection for Leia, even to himself. But Luke was drunk, and therefore more likely to be more forthcoming than he usually was, and less likely to remember it.

“So, a kiss huh?” Han knew it was unscrupulous, but had to know. “And did you reciprocate?”

Luke blinked at him. “She didn’t get promoted.”

Han ran a hand over his face and laughed. “Okay, kid. But you like her right?”

“Of course, she’s my friend.”

It was like talking to a toddler. “No, I mean more than that,” he pressed, rethinking his approach. “For example, what do you feel, when you look at her?”

Luke furrowed his brow and it took him several moments to respond, as if he’d never had to put his feelings into words before. 

“I feel...kinship.”

Han thought it was an odd word to describe attraction, and for the first time wondered whether Luke’s feelings for Leia were more platonic than he’d assumed. He’d certainly never pursued her, or made any kind of romantic overture, seemingly content with their friendship as it was. On the other hand, Han had never made any overtures either, although that was because he didn’t think he’d get the response he wanted, and then what he did have with her would be soured. 

“Why?” Luke asked him. “What do you feel when you look at her?”

Han cleared his throat. “Yeah, same as you. Kinship and all that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes and gave him one of those appraising stares that when sober made Han feel as if the kid was reading his thoughts, but didn’t have the same effect when Luke could barely stand upright. He just looked like he was squinting. 

“So Rogue Squadron huh?” Han changed to subject. “Good name.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, thankfully distracted. “It seemed right.”

“From what they say around here that Jyn Erso was quite the dame.”

Luke nodded again, staring off into the middle distance. “I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately. Do you think it’s possible to miss people you never even met?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

“There was so much I wanted to ask them,” Luke sighed. “She wore a kyber crystal on a necklace, did you know that? I wonder if there was a Jedi in her family, something she could have told me about them. And they say Chirrut Imwe was a monk, guarding  knowledge of the Force at the temple on Jedha. I wish…”

“Yeah, but Luke.” Han touched his arm. “If they were still here, we wouldn’t be.”

“I know.” Luke blinked, his eyes wet. “They died so we could continue the fight. Like half the fleet today.”

“It’s what our lives have become,” Han sighed. “You know it was halfway through this little shindig I realised that other than you and Antilles, I didn’t know anyone’s real name.”

Luke looked at him ruefully. “You actually have to talk to people to learn their names you know.”

“Hmn.” Han swirled the whiskey in his glass. “You ever hear of Lernaean, kid?”

Luke shook his head.

“Vile water planet,” Han shuddered, thinking of his one and only visit, since no bounty could ever convince him to return. “They have some kind of ocean serpent there, living in the depths. You have the misfortune to come across one of ‘em, turn and run.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it can’t be killed,” Han told him putting down his glass. “Cut off its head, and two grow in its place. Cut off those two, you got four to deal with, you get it?”

“Like us,” Luke nodded. “They can take out a cell of rebels, they can destroy half our fleet, but there will always be more of us.”

“No, kid,” Han said, taking him by the shoulders. “It’s not like you at all, that’s the point! Because the Empire kills a rebel, and there aren’t two to take his place. There’s just one less rebel to worry about, and one day there won’t be any.”

“How can you say that?” Luke shook him off. “More are joining our cause all the time!”

Han shook his head - he really was just a kid. “What do you think the casualties were today - five hundred maybe? You got a thousand new recruits lined up?” 

Luke’s lower lip trembled, and he took a shaky breath. “Why are you saying this Han?”

“I just want to know what your endgame is Luke,” Han pressed. “At what point do you pack it in, and say enough is enough?”

Luke raised his chin, looking up at Han with that zealous fire he had. “We don’t. We fight until we either win, or we die.”

“Simple as that?”

“Yeah.”

Han sighed again, and drowned the last of his whiskey. “And you wonder why I don’t bother to learn anyone’s name.”

“Well leave, if you think we’re such a lost cause.” Luke pushed at Han’s chest. “Go pay off Jabba and go back to whatever life you had before this. I don’t need you looking out for me.”

He pushed off the bar and clearly attempted to stride off to punctuate his point, but instead tripped over his own feet and went careering towards the floor. 

“It’s alright kid,” Han caught him by the arms and lifted him upright. “I got you.”

“Commander,” Luke murmured, and was then promptly sick in a potted plant.  

“Get command of your digestive system, and we’ll talk.” Han grasped a napkin off the bar and crouched down to hand it to Luke. 

“This is disgusting,” he moaned pitifully and wiped his mouth. 

“Welcome to the world of mere mortals.” Han gave him water so he could rinse out his mouth. “Come on.” He hauled Luke to his feet and lopped the kid’s arm around his shoulders to steady him.

“I’m never drinking again,” Luke groaned as Han helped him back his quarters and lay him on the bunk.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” Spying Luke’s lightsaber on the side table, Han moved it to a high shelf just in case. Seeing nothing else that could pose a danger - Luke kept his room depressingly clean - Han sat down on the bunk to unlace his boots.

“Maybe you’re right Han,” Luke said despondently. “Maybe this is a lost cause.”

“Ah, don’t listen to me.” Han decided to leave Luke’s socks on, and swung his feet up onto the bunk.

“I still have to fight,” Luke continued, staring at the ceiling. “Even if there’s only a fool’s hope.”

That’s exactly what it was, but Han held his tongue and patted Luke’s leg in acknowledgement.

“But you don’t have to,” Luke murmured, eyes fluttering closed. “I know this isn’t a comfortable life.”

“Yeah, well neither’s smuggling,” Han conceded. “Although the pay is better.”

Luke opened one eye. “When we met you were up to your eyes in debt to Jabba.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah but when I met an Imperial cruiser, I could drop the sprice shipment. Can’t shoot the Empire’s Most Wanted out the airlock,” he gave him a wink, “as much as I’d like to sometimes.”

Luke chuckled, eye closing again and head lolling to one side on the pillow. 

“I have to leave eventually though,” Han said softly. After all, he was still in hock to Jabba up to his eyeballs, and who knew how much longer it would be before the slug sent some goon looking to take payment in blood.

“Hnm.” Luke seemed to be drifting off, so Han pulled the blanket up over him and patted his shoulder. He located an empty rubbish bin and moved it to the side of the bunk for easy access should Luke wake up and need to be sick again, which based on the kids complexion was highly likely. A quick sweep of the room left him satisfied, and he made his way to the door.

“Han?” Luke muttered, and when Han turned back he seemed asleep, but must have been only nearly so.

“Yeah?”

“That water snake - anyone ever kill it?”

Han smiled, tapping his fingers against the doorframe. “Not yet,” he said. “Who knows, maybe you will.”

The door slid closed behind him, and Han headed down the corridor to his own quarters, thinking that if anyone could slay a monster like that, he’d bet on it being Luke. And maybe - just maybe - he'd be there to see it.

[slx99]

Hostage Interlude - Run

A small silly one-shot that I wrote after speaking to @maedre13 aaaages ago. Also thanks for the encouragement from my writer-tribe! Also posted here: AO3

Run

Luke dropped to his knees, panting heavily. “I… need a… break,” he heaved out. His legs and arms felt like lead and Luke was certain that he couldn’t block even one more of Vader’s relentless blows with the training lightsaber.

A pair of large black boots and a heavy dura-weave cape appeared in his line of vision, much too close for comfort. Luke squinted up. Vader towered above him, his thumbs hooked into his belt as he regarded his son, prisoner and apprentice from above.

“Pathetic,” he remarked. “Your physical fitness is truly abysmal.”

“It’s not my fault,” Luke gasped in between gulps of air, his temper flaring up at the casual remark. “I’ve been locked up for months, how do you expect me to stay fit like that if I only get out for an hour or two here or there.”

+++

In retrospect, Luke maybe shouldn’t have said that. A sharp knock on his door, a mere hour after his latest training session with Vader had ended, made him look up from the datapad he was studying. Luke switched off the datapad and hid it behind the pillow of the narrow couch he was lounging on. It would raise unnecessary and hard-to-answer questions if he was caught reading training handbook for junior navy officers.

Luke had refused to study it at first on principle, but boredom had gotten the better of Luke. Of course, he left out all the loyalty and propaganda material. Trimmed of all that dripping praise for the Emperor or the appalling lines about non-human species, the remaining topics on tactics, supply chain management and fleet movements were actually quite interesting.

With a frown, Luke checked the chrono. It was way too early for his dinner and after his earlier training session with Vader, his father was unlikely to come to see him again.

Emsee whistled.

It was no food delivery. The doorway was blocked by a huge crate, pushed in by two technicians in grey jumpsuits. They began unpacking the box and assemble what was inside under the watchful gaze of an officer.

“What is that?” Luke demanded, eying the crate and the parts the soldiers.

He didn’t get an answer, but it didn’t take long either and the men left Luke with a fully assembled and functioning treadmill occupying most of the free space of his living area.

+++

“You have not used it,” Vader remarked.

Considering his father rarely went to see him in his quarters as not to raise suspicions why he was paying his hostage too much attention this must be the reason why he had come this time. Luke wouldn’t put it past his father that the whole training monstrum was rigged to feed back his activity, or rather inactivity, on his father’s daily update report.

Luke crossed his arms defensively, glaring at the treadmill and back at Vader. He wouldn’t back down on this. “Is that a joke? Do you think I am a mooka that I just run on it like on a wheel?”

“It is beneficial for your health and will help with your training.”

“I’m not doing it!”

Vader eyed him, disapproval hanging heavily between them,

“Your stamina is abysmal.”

Luke flustered. “And whose fault is that, I used to play nuna ball twice a week, I hadstamina.”

“But now that you are here you have to adapt to it. All troops and personnel on board are required to exercise to offset the detrimental effects of the limited movement-“

“I’m not personnel. I am a prisoner.”

“Regardless, exercising will help with your overall wellbeing.”

“Like that is motivating.”

“Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate you.”

Luke glowered at him. “It’s just a cheap way of keep me locked up in here even longer.”

Vader straightened up, crossing his arms behind his back. “I understand your discontent with this arrangement,” he said. “I propose an incentive.”

“Like what?” Luke asked suspiciously.

“How about a holo movie of your choice.”

“Try again.”

“I can have the admiral procure you more datapads.”

Luke just huffed.

“What is it then that you desire in return?”

“How about you take me planetside. I haven’t had any fresh air since Carida. You just went planetside last week.”

“And how would you know that?” Vader demanded sharply.

“I saw a shuttle leave while we were in orbit above that blue and purple planet.”

“What makes you think I was on board that shuttle?”

“The admiral came and visited me for a whole two hours. He only has that much time when you are away. So what about it, will you take me on your next trip?”

“Perceptive,” Vader conceded. “But I cannot grant you your request.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like I can run away when you are watching me.”

Vader just stared at him, impatience and disapproval hanging between them.

“Fine then how about dessert?”

“You already receive the best rations available.”

Luke snorted. What would he give for having back the fine food they used to have at the palace in Aldera. What the imperial navy considered the best possible standard rations, reserved for their high-ranking officers, was already an unappealing pre-made, de- and later rehydrated tasteless substance.

“Like you can’t procure anything better than that, surely-“

Vader waved him off. “Very well. But only if you run ten miles per day.”

“Ten miles?”

“Yes, for a start, over time you will have to increase-“

“That’s way too much!”

“Then you better get to it if you wish to have your reward.”

+++ Luke had halfheartedly run for a while until he had well and truly lost any interest in whatever desert Vader could come up with. Luke had always found it dull to run and it only got worse when he had to do it on a treadmill three sizes too big for his quarters and staring at a bare grey durasteel wall. The machine still only showed just under two miles performance, despite Luke’s effort.

Luke jumped off the thing.

“This is stupid,” he huffed when Emsee beeped questioningly. “I’m not doing this.”

Emsee rolled forward and nudged against the treadmill.

“Really? You want to try it?”

Luke only got a flurry of sounds as response. He shrugged. “If you want. Not sure you can get ti moving though.” He bent down to put the small mouse droid on the belt. Emsee whirred forward on his small wheels and to Luke’s surprise the machine started counting again. Faster and faster the distance measured rose, two and a half miles, two and three quarter, three miles, as Emsee sped at his absolute top speed. It didn’t take long and the treadmill had logged ten miles. Luke laughed and cheered Emsee on for another while until the little droid needed to power down.

The cheesecake he received as his reward later that evening was surprisingly good even though Luke wasn’t sure if he’d actually want to know how Vader had managed to procure it.

+++

It took only a few days until Vader stood again in Luke’s living area, giving off the air of impatience and anger. Luke looked up from where he was lounging comfortably on his couch. Luke thought he was lucky that Emsee was currently recharging in the corner. He tried to look innocently.

“You are unwise to believe you could fool me this easily,” Vader said, without preamble. “You should have kept the parameters at a believable level. 16 miles within one hour?”

Luke crossed his arms defensively. “Fine, then no more rewards.”

“I am afraid it is not that easy, your Highness. You have received three rewards so far Since I upheld my end of the deal, you now owe me a total of thirty miles.”

Luke stared at Vader incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Start. You will complete the first right now.” Vader stalked over to the couch that Luke vacated only with great reluctance, his bulk more crashing onto it than sitting down.

Luke clambered on the treadmill with a glare that could melt durasteel.

“Fine, but don’t think I would run a single mile on this thing after I am done.”

“We will see, son,” Vader replied smugly and if anything, that strengthen Luke’s resolve not to take even one step on the blasted treadmill.

+++

From the safe distance of the overlooking balcony, Admiral Piett watched the conflict unfolding in the multipurpose hall 14-2, usually training ground for the Executor’s Stormtrooper compliment, below him. Vader had enlisted the duty of one of the most feared drill sergeants of the 501st, Vader’s dreaded fist. It should have been a simple task for the experienced man to call a sixteen-year-old boy to order and discipline. But it seemed that General Veers had put his money prematurely on his sergeant. A fact that was dawning on the General, watching the drama standing next to Piett with a shaking head.

Organa’s son had yet to do a single lap on the obstacle course put up in the hall specifically for the boy’s training. And by he looks of it this wouldn’t change anytime soon, no matter how much the drill sergeant was yelling at him. Despite his unassuming stature and polite behavior, Prince Luke seemed to possess a level of obstinate pacifism that eclipsed that of his father by a wide margin. The boy mere stood, is arms crossed and chin raised to glare up at the sergeant, a good head taller than him, citing a bunch of paragraphs straight from the Imperial Charta that would make this encounter between a peaceful civilian like him and a member of his Majesty’s armed forces illegal on at least three different levels.

“Guess I better get him out of there,” General Veers announced and shoved a hundred credits Pietts way. Piett was quite certain the General was meaning to save the sergeant before the poor man would suffer a stroke from sheer consternation.

+++

Vader glared down at the sweating commanding officer of the imperial outpost, guilty of letting a flock of rebels escape by sheer incompetence. But still the man couldn’t help but let his gaze dart away from Vader to watch the young prince of Alderaan wandering around in the distance, followed closely by an escort of Stormtroopers.

But no matter how often Vader had mentally nudged, Luke seemed unable to wipe that unseemly smile off his face.

Vader decided that this was a small price to pay for finally having convinced Luke to train to improve his stamina and strength. And his satisfaction had definitely and absolutely nothing to do with feeling the unrestrained happiness of his son to be on a planet again and feel fresh air and sunlight on his skin.

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

Take a chance | Part one [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: for this chapter, none I don’t think. It’s all set up and secret pining. 

Summary: Making friends is hard enough, let alone when you have a massive crush on one of them. But what do they say, things always have a way of working themselves out in the end.

Word Count: 2.8k

Prompt: ‘Take a chance. Live a little.’

That picture has mad boyfriend vibes.  This was meant to be my submission for @madmadmilk summer writing challenge but whoops life happened and its now September... This is part 1 of five, I think. I haven’t posted in a while and I’ve had this in my drafts so thought i would just post something. 

happy reading, lovelies

masterlist part 2

You always loved people watching, wondering where these people had been and where they were headed. Each person has their own life, their own problems and their own people that they care about, trying to figure all that out had become a sort of game to you. You imagined the man walking past in a clean-cut navy suit, with a briefcase in hand and a disgruntled expression, had realised he had picked up his partner’s bag by mistake, and was now power walking to get to his next meeting after collecting the right notes. The group of teenagers, school shirts untucked, and ties pulled loose, laughing hysterically because one of them had called their English teacher Mum and the others wouldn’t let it go. The woman in her 50’s wearing the bright scarlet coat with the fur trim, on her way back from a meeting with the executors of her husbands will, who died under mysterious circumstances.

Okay, that last one may be a bit of a stretch, but it was fun to theorise about the exotic lives people lead. Especially when your own was far from that definition.

Drawing your attention away from the people, the glass of the café window came back into view, condensation coating patches of it. You had drawn a small smiley face in it earlier, although as the droplets dripped from the eyes and mixed with the curve of the smile, it didn’t look so happy anymore. That felt weirdly more accurate though.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“Y/N?”

Two voices filtered into your subconscious, “huh.”

You turned your head back to the two boys in front of you. One brown haired and one blond. Both irritatingly handsome.

The brown-haired boy tilted his head, “are you alright, Y/N? You’re being quiet today.”

The blond boy chuckled, “she’s just people watching, aren’t you.”

You had only known Tom and Harrison for three months, but you were always surprised by how much they remembered about you. Even the smallest details. They were annoyingly good about remembering those. You tried to keep up, listening intently every time they mentioned something new about themselves, but they seemed to know stuff you were sure you had never told them. You weren’t sure how they were doing it. You suspected witchcraft.

“Because she thinks they are more interesting than the people right in front of her,” Harrison continued.

“Hey, I don’t think that,” you retorted.

“Oh no, I’m sure,” Harrison said, quickly followed by a wink. He often needed to make sure people knew he was joking, his sarcasm often got him in trouble.

You couldn’t help but blush slightly, warmth spreading across the apple of your cheeks. It’s not like you fancied Harrison, you just weren’t used to it. You weren’t exactly the most promiscuous of people. At least you could maintain eye contact with Haz though, if it was Tom that winked, your brain would have flatlined for a few seconds.  

Tom’s fingers curled around his mug, his bruised and calloused knuckles prominent against the white ceramic.

Oh my god, Tom’s hands. The dreams you had had about those; entangled in your hair, squeezing slightly too hard on your hip, entwined with your own. Your breath hitched just thinking about it.

He brought the cup up to his mouth, pausing mid-way.

“Well she wouldn’t be wrong, Haz. I know tax reports more entertaining than you.”

Tom instantly erupted in laughter, his eyes crinkling and his tongue sticking out. He pulled his neck back into him as his body rocked. Haz landed a punch on his shoulder, coffee sloshing up the sides of the mug from the movement.

“I’m so sorry, Movie Star, what was that?” Haz stared down his best friend.

Tom was still shaking from laughter, his coffee dangerously close to spilling on his lap.

The boys had these moments when it was blindingly clear they were completely comfortable around each other. They said things that you would only dare say to your best friend. They were totally in sync. You loved watching them, feeling free to truly be themselves. Especially as they spent a lot of time in the public eye and you could sense they were concealing something, holding themselves back partially. But it did feel like just that, you were watching, a spectator at their best friend show and for the most part you didn’t mind at all. But have you ever tried to third wheel a pair of best friends, it’s worse than hanging out with any couple. They are just so many inside jokes and little looks, memories and experiences that you don’t understand, you’re not a part of. Sometimes you can feel a little lost but that’s natural. You know it will come with knowing them longer.

You didn’t ever want to interrupt their friendship. You just weren’t sure how to act in moments like these. You tended to sit back and let them relish it.

Maybe you should get involved or maybe you shouldn’t. You were never good at making decisions.

“Don’t call me, Movie Star,” Tom replied, his laugh now coming out low and slow.

Haz turned in his seat to face Tom, the leather rustling underneath him.

“Is, Movie Star, not good enough anymore? I’m so sorry,” he placed his hand on his chest, “what would you prefer? Mr Holland, Spider-man, a god among men?”

“Well, I am Spider-man so yeah, that works,” Tom raised his eyebrows and brought his mug to his lips, sipping gently at the coffee whilst looking into Haz’s eyes.

The cheeky shit.

Harrison rolled his eyes, “the big man.”

You watched them play fight, noting the slight smirk on both of their faces throughout, signalling they didn’t mean any harm by what they were saying.

God, Tom looked hot when he smirked.

“Care to weight in, Y/N,” Tom directed at you, a mischievous look behind his eyes.

“It’s so hard to be boring when you’re a movie star,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

“Hey, you can’t both gang up on me,” Tom said, placing his mug back on the table and then combing his hand through his hair. You watched his movements intently, the veins on his hands tensed against his skin.

You caught yourself before the staring became weird and uncomfortable, forcing your eyes away from the beautiful boy and focusing on the small vase of pink flowers in the middle of the table. If you could, you would watch Tom for hours. Watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way he would drink from a bottle without it ever touching his lips, watch the muscles in his back shift as he stretched at the end of the film. You weren’t sure if this was borderline creepy but there was something about him that was so entrancing. Somehow everything he did was able to capture and keep your attention. You knew you weren’t the only one either. You saw the way other people looked at him when he walked in a room or engaged them in conversation. Not that you were jealous, he wasn’t yours to be jealous over.

Can’t help but wish he was.

Tom was not what you expected. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t get him out of your mind. He intrigued you in a way no one had in a really long time.

In a really really long time.

“Anyone else hungry? Think I’m going to get a snack,” Tom said.

He pushed himself out of his chair and faced you and Haz.

“I’m offering,” he added.

Haz placed his hand on his stomach knitting his brows, trying to determine if he was hungry or not.

“Nah, I’m alright, mate,” he said.

Tom turned to you, “Y/N, can I tempt you with some food?”

“Not hungry, but you can get me another drink,” you replied.

Tom beamed, “sure, same again?”

“Yes, please.”

Tom patted his pocket, checking his wallet was still there and then headed towards the counter.

You settled back into your chair, sighing heavily.

You wished you could be as relaxed around Tom as you were with Harrison. A big part of you fizzled with a nervous energy when he was around, although you never realised until he left when you felt your shoulders drop and you stopped grinding your teeth.

But then I guess you didn’t have a thing for Harrison.

“So, how have you been, Y/N?” Harrison asked.

“Not too bad, uni has been hectic but only a few weeks left now.”

“Did you manage to get your final assignment finished? Last I heard was you spamming me with messages saying how close to death you were.” His lips turned up into a small smile.

You chuckled.

“Yeah, I finished, thank god. I think I started to lose my mind for a bit there but it’s all done now.”

“Good to hear, is that all your assignments done now?” Haz questioned.

“Got a couple left but they are practically done so I’m not too worried.” You picked up your mug and drained the last few drops of your coffee, ready for the one Tom was getting you.

“Now that you’re finished with uni, does that mean we will be seeing you a lot more, then? You’ll stop being so boring and staying in all the time.” Haz asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey, I’m not being boring, I have work to do,” you countered, your mouth hanging open in mock offense.

“So, you say…” he continued to tease.

You picked up a crumpled-up napkin from the table and flung it in his direction, but it never reached him. Instead it fluttered back down to the table, only causing more laughter to erupt from his body.

“Look,” you began, trying to regain some of your composure, “not all of us can rely on our unnecessarily good looks to get us jobs.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Haz, you’re a model, that’s literally your job.” Now you’re the one shaking with laughter.

“Fuck, yeah, you got me there.”

You brought your hand up to your face, covering your mouth, trying to stifle the laughs. Harrison grabbed his drink- not being a fan of coffee he had gone for a coke- and unscrewed the cap, taking a swig. Even with the bottle covering most of his face you could see the pink wash over his cheeks.

A faint shadow casted over Haz, you looked up and saw Tom. He was balancing a tray, laden with food and drink on one hand, whilst trying to shove his wallet into his pocket with the other. The tray wasn’t lying even on his hand and hot liquid trickled down the side of the mugs. You jumped up taking the tray from him and set in down on the table. When you looked back up at him he greeted you with a warm smile, crinkles forming around his eyes.

Tom looked between you and Haz, titling his head slightly.

“I feel like I just missed something,” he said.

“Oh, nothing much, just me being an div,” Haz said.

“Just the usual then, mate,” Tom snickered.

“Exactly.”

Haz jumped up, “here mate, take my seat.” He wriggled past the low table and stood next to Tom.

“Wait, where are you going?” you questioned.

“I’ve got that casting call remember.” Haz whipped his jacket out from the seat just before Tom sat on it. He walked around to where you were gaping at him and planted a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Panic set in, it wasn’t often that you were left alone with Tom, usually you could count on someone else to be a buffer to your anxiety. When you were alone you were worried that he would finally catch on how you feel, there is only so long you can stare at someone without talking before it becomes weird. Having a crush on a friend can be impossible at times. It’s like you forget how to act around them, suddenly everything becomes a what did they mean by that?  Are they flirting? No, surely not, but what if they are? What if they think you’re flirting? There is already an established connection there and you don’t want to disturb the equilibrium between you but then everything they do takes your breath away. It feels like too much of a risk.

It wasn’t particularly a problem at the start, you always thought Tom was attractive, but it takes you time to get to know someone. You must know who they are as a person before you start to crush on them. But then you got to know him.

What could you do though? You wanted to be his friend. If nothing else came from it (and you were almost certain nothing would) you still wanted to be his friend.

“What no kiss for me?” Tom teased his friend.

Haz brought his hand to his open mouth, “oh, I’m sorry darling, please forgive me.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of Tom’s curls.

Tom held Haz’s chin, “I can’t stay mad at that face.”

All three of you let out breathy laughs.

“Alright I really gotta go now.”

Haz slung his bag onto his shoulder, “don’t you two kids have too much fun without me. Actually, forget that, it’s impossible to have too much fun without me.”

Tom shoved his friend light-heartedly, “alright, get lost.”

Now the two of you were alone, you took a shaky sip of coffee.

Tom leaned back in his chair, spreading his body fully out, his feet sliding underneath the table. You both settled into silence for a few moments whilst sipping your drinks.

You knew you needed to sort your feelings out. You couldn’t go on like this forever. Maybe you should tell Tom but then what would he think? What would Haz think? You valued them both so much as friends, the thought that that could all be stripped away was scary. And there was the being vulnerable thing, which had never been your forte. Laying yourself bare like that, waiting for someone else’s response sounded terrifying.

That was a problem for another day though, for now it wouldn’t be so bad if you watched the way Tom’s fingers flexed around his mug and the way his tongue glided over his bottom lip after he took a bite of food, right?

“Oh hey, Y/N,” Tom said through a mouth full, “if you’re free tomorrow.”

He swallowed down the sandwich.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over, we could watch a movie or something, order some food.”

Tom always got distracted when watching films, checking his phone every half an hour, which would usually bother you a lot. But you could never find it in yourself to get mad at him. Besides you liked showing him your favourites and watching his reactions at pivotal moments, when he was watching at least.

“Yeah, sure, sounds fun. That film I was telling you about just came out.”

You waggled your eyebrows at him, sinking into your chair.

“Perfect,” he took a swig of coffee, looking at you over the rim, “it’s a date.”

What? A date? Hahahah, what? He doesn’t mean an actual date. It’s just a figure of speech, yeah just a figure of speech.

“Uhhh.” You tried to scrabble for a semblance of thought.

“Harrison?” you muttered, your brain still processing.

“Huh,” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“I mean Harrison is going to be there too, right?”

“Oh no, Haz is going out tomorrow.”

He noted the dumbfounded look on his face.

“If you don’t want to come then-” he trailed off.

“No, no, I do,” you chimed in. “I do,” you whispered to yourself.

Tom perked up at that, “great, I’ll text you a time later or something.”

“Yeah.”

What is going on? He had never invited you to hang out alone with him before. Best not to panic. Oh who are you kidding, you wouldn’t be able to stop panicking.  

This was just two friends hanging out together, right? It had to be.

But then he did call it a date and you had never heard him call a casual hang out a date before.

No, no, no. You’re being silly, reading too much into this, it definitely wasn’t a date. Why would Tom Holland, who could have any girl ask you out on a date? It just wasn’t plausible. No, this wasn’t a date.

Then why did he call it a date. Guess you had a date with Tom Holland tomorrow?

Fuck.

Tagging some mutuals who may be interested below:  @tomhollandthirst @uglypastels @spidey-pal @spideyfield @onedustyboi @h-osterfield @starkravingparker @mysteryavengers @aw-hawkeye

[happyumbrellla]

Snk:Mafia!Omegaverse : Chap 6

Chapter 6 : Untrue infiltration

The picture fell very smoothly and slightly on the metal table as Eren's eyes failed to come out of their sockets. Did he hear correctly? He was a simple Omega holding a small tea salon at the crossroads of the business district and a residential district, the detective couldn't have offered him what he thought he had:

         -“I beg your pardon?”

        -“Since I’ve been working on his case, I’ve never seen a single picture of Levi with anything else of an icy expression on his face. Even his eyes are empty of all emotions.”

 He put the previous picture before the young man's eyes:

         -“There's a sparkle in his eyes. A burst of interest! There are only two possible scenarios. Either your tea is of superior taste and quality to have succeeded in charming our target, or you have charmed him. But in either case, you are the key to reaching Levi.”

        -“But... But don't you have more qualified agents for these kinds of missions?”

        -“We sent agents, but they all ended up being exposed. No one has ever been able to get close to the captains, let alone the big boss. Yet you have aroused the interest of Survey Corps' most important captain. And I sincerely believe that you can use this interest to your advantage to help us send all these criminals to jail.”

 The young man began to think at full speed. He did not expect such a turnaround at all. Had the detective just asked him to approach Levi and infiltrate the mafia to gather evidence to convict each of his members? :

         -“To make it simple, I ask you to use this interest he has for you and your Omega nature to gain Levi's trust. That way, he won't be suspicious of you and you can go through his things to provide me with the evidence I need to bring him down. Him and his whole bunch of bastards.”

 Eren may not have known them, but he did not appreciate the term "bastards" to describe those who protected the Omegas from the Maria Wall:

         -“Do I have to join the mafia?”

        -“In a way, it will happen if you can connect Levi enough to the point that he involves you in his business.”

 The Omega exhaled gently:

         -“But I'm incapable of killing anyone, I'm incapable of doing anything illegal... What if I'm discovered?”

        -“Let's cross our fingers so that this doesn't happen.”

 That's an answer that's anything but reassuring:

         -“There is also a chance that you may need to use more than just your mind and words.”

 In a way, the young man knew that this point was going to be addressed:

         -“You asked me to... To... To...”

        -“To spread your thighs to get information? I am not asking for it, but if it can help, I would advise you to think about it very strongly.”

 Eren remained silent for a moment before asking:

         -“And... What happens if I refuse?”

 The language of Kitz clicked:

         -“This decision could have, say, dramatic consequences…”

 The young man understood perfectly what was at stake. The brown boy buries his head between his hands to think. What solutions did he have at his disposal? He had to accept otherwise his sister would surely pay the consequences and so would he. But he couldn't cause a structure that protected the Omegas to fall either (even if he didn't really have any proof of that for the moment... Apart from the mosquito net Levi had installed at his window and the fact that he was following him everywhere). That was out of the question. Eren suddenly lifted his head up, he had made a decision; he was going to do what was necessary to protect his sister and his family at the same time:

         -“When do I start? And how?”

 The policeman stopped for a while, clearly surprised by the answer he had just received:

         -“.... Perfect. Come with me.”

 To Eren's great relief, they left the interrogation room and went to the detective's office:

         -“Detective Weilman,” shouted Mikasa as they barely left the interrogation room. “You have no right to threaten a witness! Especially not my brother! And especially not to force him to join such a dangerous undercover mission!”

 The black-haired Alpha grabbed his brother's wrist and pulled him to her with a sharp blow:

         -“I didn’t force him. He accepted.”

        -“You threatened him! His agreement is not valid!”

 As the detective was about to retaliate, Eren said:

         -“I'll do it, Mikasa. If I can help, I want to do it.”

 His sister looked at him with big eyes:

         -“Are you well aware of what you want to engage in? The Survey Corps mafia is not fooling around. And from what we know about Levi, he's the worst to play with.”

        -“Cadet Jaëger, I will take care of your brother's safety myself.”

        -“If the executor decides to shoot him in the head, you will not have time to intervene.”

        -“Then help him. If I know that I have two police officers watching over me, I would be less afraid, less stressed and probably less suspicious.”

 Mikasa and Kits exchanged a look:

         -“It’s possible. We can try. Come with me, both of you.”

 The two Jaëgers followed the detective into his office where they spent an hour and a half. Kitz detailed to them all the information he had managed to obtain after several years of investigations and gave Eren some tips to start his infiltration. In the end, Eren knew more than Kitz did because he had already been in their headquarters, had met the three captains and the big boss. But he didn't say that:

         -“Here’s my card with my number. Feel free to contact me if you need anything. Just be careful not to get caught calling me.”

        -“All right.”

        -“Just pretend like nothing happened. Do your usual job by spending a little more time with Levi. We will organize ourselves to supervise you as well as possible, so don't worry about us unless you need help or if you have information to give us.”

 The young man observed the little card the detective was handing him before taking it and nodding:

         -“All right.”

        -“He will not wear a microphone?”, Mikasa asked.

        -“No. That would be too dangerous.”

        -“And in the tea salon?”

        -“If two mafia captain go there, it means he needs to be watched. I’m afraid trying to put microphones in there is too risky.”

 Kitz gave Eren a pat on the shoulder:

         -“Cheer up, my boy. Everything will be fine.”

The Omega gave him a tiny smile before the detective left. Mikasa turned to her brother:

         -“Are you sure you want to do this?”

        -“I don't really have a choice anymore.”

        -“You have! You can retract it.”

        -“I wouldn't risk putting you in a difficult situation with him, so no, I wouldn't retract.”

        -“You're going to put yourself in danger, Eren...”

        -“I'm already in danger if the mafia comes to the salon.”

Mikasa remained silent:

        -“I'm going home. Be careful. And don't come home too late.”

        -“Do you want me to walk you home?”

        -“No, it's okay. It's okay. Thank you.”

 The Omega kissed his sister's cheek before heading for the exit. He needed to walk. He walked when he needed to think. How was he going to deal with this shitty situation? What had he done to find himself in such a mess? Just because he was an Omega didn't justify the whole universe subjecting him to all possible trials. Eren kicked hard in a trash bin to express his anger and frustration. Strangely, people were moving a little out of his way, probably his face was showing his anger and frustration.

   He slammed the door of his apartment furiously before locking it and locking himself in his room. He froze sharply when he saw a certain Alpha, standing near his manga library:

         -“How did it go with Kitz?”

 The blood of the brown boy turned only once, he threw himself on Levi with the firm intention of strangling him:

         -“I'll kill you”, he shouted.

 The black-haired man had no trouble grabbing his attacker's wrists and turning the situation around to press him against the nearest wall. Eren tried to fight back, but Levi was much stronger than him. Their bodies were too tightly pressed together and the young man could feel Levi's muscles contract to hold him in place. Despite the fact that he was furious, the Omega could not help but feel pleasure and warmth in his stomach. He liked the proximity he had with the Alpha. The brown boy had to get out of there before losing what little control he had over himself:

         -“Let go of me! It’s your fault I’m in this situation!”

        -“Calm down.”

        -“Calm down? Calm down? Are you kidding me? I’m in deep shit and it’s because of you!”

 Levi pressed a little more against him, making Eren squeal:

         -“If I let go, will you behave?”

 The young man closed his eyes before sighing:

         -“Yes”, he finally breathed.

 He knew he had no choice, Levi was too strong for him and too close. The Alpha released his "prey" and let it turn slowly and calmly towards him. He sat gently on the bed while declaring:

         -“Good boy.”

 The Omega shivered, like every time Levi called him like that:

         -“What did Kitz say to you?”

 The brown boy crossed his arms on his chest, sighed and replied, without looking at the man sitting on his bed. It was a temptation far too great:

         -“He showed me pictures and asked me if I knew you and Hanji. I said you were customers and I didn't know anything more about it.”

 The steel eyes were all over him, clearly indicating that the mobster was waiting for the suite:

         -“He asked me…”

 Eren didn't finish his sentence but tightened up on himself. Levi stood up and put a finger under his chin to lift his face and turn him slowly towards him:

         -“What did he ask you?

 The youngest got lost in the eyes of his elder while blushing from the contact and their proximity:

         -“He asked me to get closer to you to get information. He advised me to....”

 New stopping time and intensification of the red of his cheeks:

         -“To?”

 The Omega swallowed, could he really say that? The black-heard man's thumb gently passed over his lower lip, lighting a fire in his belly and triggering a wave of desire in the hollow of his kidneys:

         -“What did he advise you to do to get more information Eren?”

 The answer was so weak that someone outside their bubble could not have heard it:

         -“… To spread my legs for you to get more results.”

 Levi sketched a light amused smile:

         -“Here's an interesting thing I wouldn't say no to....”

 Eren didn't think it was possible to get even redder than he was. If the young man was embarrassed, this did not prevent him from releasing pheromones to which the Alpha responded by pressing a little more on the lower lip of the brown boy, until he saw his teeth:

         -“What did you say Eren? What did you say when he asked you to do that?”

        -“He implied that if I refused, it would have dramatic consequence… So I accepted.”

 To his great surprise, the black-haired man's lips stretched into a fine smile:

         -“All right... Kitz wants to involve you in our little war, fine.”

 Eren leaned his head to the side, at least, as much as Levi's fingers allowed him to:

         -“I don't understand...”

        -“Don't worry about anything, little boy. I'll take care of everything, but nothing prevents you from trying to do what he told you to add some twists and turns to the upcoming show.”

 One last pressure on his lips and Levi walked away:

         -“Wait-wait-wait.”

 The black-haired man stopped:

         -“You said you'd be away for three days...”

        -“I left orders to Auruo. I thought you might need me to be there.”

 The brown boy didn't have time to answer that Levi was leaving the room through the window. Eren's body did not have time to react, still numb with a strange desire. He still felt the warmth of the Alpha's body against his own and already regretted it. What show was he talking about? Did the black-haired man just imply that he should try to make eyes to him? The young man was lost. He felt helpless and manipulated. And he hated it. Why did everyone have to want to run his life for him? He fell on his bed, buried his head in his pillow and screamed as loudly as he could. The cushion stifles the noise a little. His anger turned to frustration and it was so intense that he began to cry. He didn't know exactly how long he stayed with his head in his pillow crying but it was small knocks against his bedroom door that made him pull his head out of the soft surface:

         -“Eren?”

 It was his sister. The brown boy sat on his bed and wiped his tears before opening his door. His sister's face finished decomposing as she saw the wet grooves on his brother's cheeks and his red eyes and depressed look:

��        -“You shouldn't have accepted... Call him and tell him you changed your mind. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. I'll tell this guy not to come here anymore and you'll be quiet again.”

 In this moment and in his fragile emotional state, Eren saw red. His own sister was trying to control his life. He pushed his hands away from his face and stepped back:

         -“I'm tired of everyone wanting to run my life because I'm an Omega who needs protection! I am a human being able to think, to make my own decisions and to assume the consequences! I have accepted this mission and I will carry it out. So you, like all the others, leave me alone and do your job so that mine goes well!”

 Eren never yelled at his sister, but tonight he was fed up. He slammed his room door in his sister's face and locked it before knocking on it. He had had enough! He was going to show everyone that he was able to manage on his own even if he was an Omega. The brown boy raged with tears before sitting at his small desk, opening his laptop and getting to work. He had research to do to better understand the relationship between Alphas and Omegas. Certainly Eren had taken the courses on this subject, like everyone else in college, but these courses did not teach them to court or flirt, nor to spot the corresponding signs.

 The first informations he found were very general. The society was composed of Alpha, Betas and Omegas. The population is divided into different packs so that each individual has an Alpha "Pack leader" to refer to if necessary. Only a few people don't have one. This was not the case for Eren and Mikasa. Since they were part of the pack composed of themselves and their friends, the leader of the pack being Mikasa. In other words, it was going to be difficult for her to voluntarily let a member of her pack, and her brother, flirt with the living danger that Levi Ackerman was.

 ·         Alphas are rare but are the dominant beings. They are the ones who occupy the highest spheres of society, although some Betas sometimes manage to climb there. Alphas can emit pheromones that influence their surroundings. They are the only ones who can lead a pack and there can only be one Alpha pack leader. When they are too upset, they can get into a state of frenzy. At that moment, the wolf takes over the human and they are able to slaughter anyone passing through his field of vision. Only their soulmate can calm them down. When they are too excited, they can go into “rut”. In this state, they will have only one objective, to have sexual intercourse with the person who excited them until they are fully satisfied.

 ·         Betas constitute the major part of society. They don't have any particular characteristics. And the packs are generally only composed of Betas under the direction of one Alpha.

 ·         Omegas are extremely rare and exclusively male. They are the link between all the members of the pack. If the Alpha is the leader, the Omega is the confidant. His role is to help the pack and protect its weakest members. Eren knew, to live it himself, that the Omegas have so-called "heat" periods during which they can become pregnant. This is only possible during this period. He knew it was the hardest four or five days of the month. Eren hated his heat. He was too hot, he was sweating, he was unable to think properly and above all, his body produced an incredible amount of natural lubricant that ran along his thighs and made him feel sticky. His whole body was consumed by the desire to be sexually fulfilled, but unfortunately for him, his toys only managed to do so temporarily. In reality, he was desperate to have an Alpha to knot it down and thus save as much seed as possible in his body to increase the chances of fertilization.

 When he was young, Eren thought it was enough for him to find an Alpha when he needed one and "Basta". But no, he then learned that when an Omega passed his heats with an Alpha it meant that he had chosen him as his companion and that he wanted to be marked. That is, to be bitten on the throat so that the scar never goes away and everyone knows that the Omega was caught and no other Alpha, or anyone else, can ever satisfied him. The same goes for the Alpha who would be unable to live without his Omega, preventing him from finding happiness and pleasure outside his arms. The claiming process being irreversible, you had to think carefully before spending your heat with an Alpha. Especially since the Alphas were greatly influenced by the pheromones released by an Omega in heat and they were unable to resist their visceral need to claim him as his own.

  This notion of choice was crucial for the Omegas, and for some Alphas. Unfortunately, some Alphas were only interested in their own reputation and didn’t hesitate to force an Omega to bond with them. It was very popular to own an Omega. This meant that the Alpha was a reliable and responsible person. Since Omegas were rare, it was a luxury to have one at his side... Strangely, the fact that all Omegas are males did not seem to stop the Alphas in search of social recognition...

 That's why Eren was hiding his true nature, he didn't want to be forced to bind to an Alpha for the rest of his life and be considered a more or less sexual object.

 The young man spent a good hour searching before finding an interesting site giving seduction advice. If Eren had ever been told that he was going to read and follow this kind of bullshit for girls, he would have laughed. Yet today, he was really going to do it.

Masterlist

© 2018 - Happy Umbrellla - All Rights Reserved. No reposting and/or modifying of any form on any media is allowed. No translations allowed. 

[avengerdragoness]

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

I was tagged by the lovely @an-all-write-life​ I’m so happy you tagged me, I saw this and was like WANT!

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

What does that even mean?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

1 I am not afraid of the dark

3. The person you would never want to meet?

How much time do you have?

4. What is your favorite word?

I love the word ‘Majestic’

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

I’d be a Palm tree (bc of Alolan Executor)

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

‘I’m tired’

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A t-shirt from a soccer tournament I was in in high school

8. What do you label yourself as?

Weird

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dark room, I get migraines easily. Bright lights don’t help

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Playing with my cat

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

18 was a pretty good year

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Probably my mom or my roommate

13. Your worst enemy?

Math

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

Nah not really, college is kinda just like ‘oh he’s hot’ then never see them again.

16. The last song you listened to?

“Santa Fe” by Jeremy Jordan from Newsies

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Would it be wrong to say the current president of the United States? No. Then yes I would blow Donald Trump to smithereens.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

My answer for 17 still stands.

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

My brother because he’s an asshole and it’d just be cool to make him do stuff I want him to do.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

I think my eyes. I always get complimented on them and I like ‘em a lot. They let me see things. Very useful.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I think whatever the male version of me would look like. Honestly I’d probs look like one of my brothers. What I would do? Go to the gym at the Y without feeling like I’m being constantly stared at by creepy old men.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

I can make a dinosaur/demon noise.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Is tornadoes unique? That’s like my biggest fear. Like I’m the only one I’ve ever heard answer “what’s your biggest fear?” with tornadoes.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

BACON

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

American Eagle sweaters

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

Venice, Italy

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Moscow Mules are pretty lit.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

All people are equal

29. What is your favorite expletive?

‘Fuck’ is a good one

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

I have this little stuffed horse named ‘lucky’ I’ve had forever so probs him.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

My car accident.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

London

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

I haven’t really lost anyone personally that I’d bring back but I’d bring back one of my friend’s friends in high school that passed away.

34. What was your last dream about?

I don’t remember

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? -  Are you good at reading people a.k.a can you guess a person’s character correctly without knowing them well?

I’d like to think so

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Yes

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yup

38. What is the color of your socks?

I am not wearing socks

39. What type of music do you like?

Alternative mostly

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunsets

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Chocolate and Caramel

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

I don’t watch or like football

43. Do you have any scars?

Yes i do

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

A Behavior Analyst for the FBI

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My confidence and/or my nose.

46. Are you reliable?

I think so

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

”Are we helping people?”

48. Do you hold grudges?

Depends on the circumstances

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

A hawk and lizard. I’m makin a dragon yo

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

Dude there are too many

51. Are you a good liar?

Honestly? Yes

52. How long could you go without talking?

Not long

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

I haven’t really had any.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Yup.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Not really.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter and jelly

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

I just randomly write in cursive sometimes

58. What would be you dream car?

Don’t really have one

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

Nope

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I do

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

Never

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

J...my name starts with a J and yes that’s why

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

DRAGONS

64. What do you think about babies?

They cute

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. -  If you could know the name of the person you’re going to marry you, would you find out.?

Yes, I need to know I won’t be lonely forever

I’m gonna tag @linaofthemyscira @dc-hoe @jason-redhood @writing-yj @angstytodd @wolfgirln

[purru]

As We Face Down The End

▷ Summary; Roman Hicks was the first person who stood up for him. Rook made it his duty to protect Hicks by any means

⚠️ content advisory: villain whumpee, major character death (non permanent), love interest turned executor, execution, gun

Note #1: fill for day 2 of Whumptober - Cornered

Note #2: This fic is based on what happened on our homebrew Blades in The Dark session, I just decided to write my player character’s death scene. Rook will be fine and resurrected after the fic, he'll be in good* hands eventually

To keep Hicks alive, he would do everything to hide the truth. That included the fact that it was indeed Rook who tampered with evidences of spontaneous human combustion case back in the brothel—being an arcane investigator sure comes with perks.

Rook couldn't think of any other method; the less Hicks knew the better. So he lied and lied. He lied until Hicks eventually invited him for a nice lunch, just the two of them.

It was unusual for his superior to hold a one-on-one meeting outside their office. Rook instinctively fixed his bangs, hoping that it would cover the hot flush that he knew had spread all over his ears. He nodded and respectfully accepted the invitation.

The supposedly one-on-one lunch meeting in that eerily quiet five star restaurant quickly turned frustrating. Hicks pressed on. Rook’s lies kept piling higher and higher. The black haired man didn’t particularly care whether he sound convincing or not.

Based on past experience, the rule of thumb on surviving an interrogation was to never admit to anything. Hicks only needed his confession and he’s not going to give it. He would bite his tongue off if Hicks didn’t stop asking. Couldn’t Hicks see that he’s doing it for his own safety? Rook wouldn’t forgive himself if the demon latching on his body burned Hicks to embers, just like what He had done previously in that brothel.

Rook was about to continue with his defense and rhetorical answer when in an instant, powerful arcane ward spanning the entire restaurant was activated. He could no longer feel the demon’s presence enveloping him. Rifles and guns were pointed at him from every corner. Rook saw his fellow investigators coming out from their hiding positions, they were on their shooting positions. He instinctively raised his hands in the air.

Truth to be told, this wasn't particularly surprising. Since the first time they exchanged words, Rook kept envisioning that someday they would end each other's life. He didn't know what would be fulfilled first: him killing Hicks, or Hicks killing him. Hicks was a threat for him as he was a threat for Hicks and the entire city.

But a firing squad? Hicks should be given a credit for creativity. This was well-executed, well-orchestrated. Rook could learn a thing or two from Hicks. He had never imagined this is how he would meet his demise. He had thought Hicks would poison his drink. It's easy to do so. It also would serve as a fitting death for him, for he didn’t deserve a merciful death.

Soon Hicks read his charges; a season of treason, a tampering to remember. Rook looked at Hicks straight in the eyes and smiled. He uttered his gratitude, he was proud be to able to work under a man as magnanimous as Hicks. He thought he did the right thing. He merely wanted to protect Hicks. Turned out choosing the right option didn’t feel good.

Hicks then asked one final question. “Who do you trust? Us or the cult?” Rook just knew that Hicks was actually asking who he sided with. Hicks bothered to ask him, the turncoat.

He took his time to admit he trusted Hicks and his company. Or had trusted. It didn’t matter as Hicks nodded and the first shot was fired. And thus his execution began with a mere nod. How quick, how easy.

A bullet went through his stomach and Rook regretted that he ordered the cheapest menu this forsaken restaurant. His last meal should've been a grand one. Once he arrived at hell, he would make sure to indulge in his culinary pleasure shamelessly. To hell with choosing the right thing, he wanted to feel good from now on. He would rise and soar above them all if he’s given another chance.

Another bullet hit his shoulder and he started to lose his balance. Although this wasn't surprising, he couldn't help but feeling a pang of resentment. He had put his trust in Hicks just like he trusted Leonard. At the end of the day, they were the same. Both had betrayed his trust. Leonard had sold his soul then and now Hicks was the one ordered his death, Rook thought as another bullet nested on his chest. He gasped for air but there was only blood filing his lungs⁠—it burned.

As a final and closing act, Miss Ordelia gave him a headshot. He couldn’t maintain his balance anymore. He collapsed and darkness engulfed his vision. Death followed soon after.

In the end Hicks had chosen to kill one man to save the entire city; Rook would’ve burned London if it meant saving Hicks. It was such a shame.

Note #3: fic title is a lyric from this song, I think it fits what Rook thought of their short-lived friendship

[imagine-loki]

Taming the rage

TITLE: Taming the Rage

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 

Chapter 60 AUTHOR: lokilover9

Original Imagine: Imagine Odin tells Loki that he has to marry and it’s you. You’ve hated him for years. Every time he sees you in the palace he smirks knowing all the duties you’ll have to perform as his princess, making you cringe. He isn’t exactly fond of you either, but can’t help looking forward to the challenge.

RATING: Teen

Early the next morning, Loki and Erika awoke to persistent knocking at their door. Erika answered and returned with a set of crutches.

“Eir sent these. Apparently you forgot them yesterday?”

Loki flopped his head back onto the pillow. “I didn’t forget them, I didn’t want them.”

Erika placed them on the floor beside the bed and crossed her arms. “Like it or not, you’re using them.”

“Is that so?” He replied. “And you’re going to make me?”

Her expression turned serious and when he made a funny face, it only intensified.

Loki rolled his eyes and caved. “As you wish, I will use them.”

“Good. Would you like some breakfast?” She asked.

Another knock was heard from downstairs.

“After I answer the door again?”

This time she returned with a message from Frigga. “We are to remain in our chambers until further notice.”

“Oh that’s nice.” Loki huffed. “Here we go again.”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason.” Said Erika. “It’s not like we had any plans today, now stop complaining and come downstairs will you?” ~~~~~~~~~ Still furious with Odin, Frigga managed to avoid him that morning after sleeping in a guest room and rising early to drop in on Thor and Jane for a quick tea.

“Do you know everything now?” She asked Jane.

They both nodded.

“Good. Neither of them need to know you were both informed about their children prior to them marrying, especially Loki. Once they do, I will inform them with Jarles, then tell them I’ll be informing you. Afterwards, a family discussion will be held so you won’t need to act surprised.”

“So much secrecy.” Said Jane.

“I know.” Frigga replied. “Unfortunately, it’s been necessary. You’ll keep many over the years as a future Queen.”

“She’ll need an apple for that Mother.”

“Yes and before this baby comes, we’ll get her one.”

“I feel bad for them.” Said Jane. “Especially Loki.”

“So do I.” Said Frigga. She proceeded to tell them all Erika had revealed while at Eirs and by the time she was done, Jane was in tears.

“How can this be the same soul who treats Junior with so much love and kindness? I mean it’s great that he does, but would he treat Loki and Erikas children different?” She took Junior from his high chair. “I’m staying here today Frigga. I can’t be around Odin right now. Excuse us.”

She left and Thor sighed. “I don’t think she’ll ever see Father the same way again and I’m questioning if I will either.”

“I’m sorry Darling.” Said Frigga. “I came by to inform you your Father doesn’t know you’ve been told anything except what he observed you over hearing yesterday. The only way your coronation will go forward is if he continues to believe that. You mustn’t question anything regarding his actions towards Loki, or why he doesn’t believe Asta. If he thinks you sympathize with Loki about anything…”

“I understand.” Said Thor. “I must admit, I’m surprised at Father’s behavior lately. I understand his concern due to Loki’s previous actions, but he’s been a ‘model citizen’ since his release. Why is Father doing this and disregarding evidence of Astas predictions like the Healing Waters?”

“I’ve questioned this myself. He knows my magic alone isn’t enough to protect them, yet he’s purposely instigating Loki.” Frigga told Thor about Odin testing Loki and he wasn’t impressed.

“What the hell is he thinking?”

“Based on all I’ve learned from Erika, my theory is he deeply resents Loki. I think your Father partially blames him for peace not developing with the Jotuns. He also knows Loki’s children will be capable of protecting those waters.”

“Asta said this?”

“Yes.”

“How did all this come to her?” Thor asked.

“In extremely vivid dreams. They began when Erika was only a few months old and intensified in severity the moment Asta met Loki. Never in all her life had she experienced anything like them and she knew without a doubt, I would be the executor of it all.”

“How?”

“For years before we met, she’d heard my voice in dreams where she’d see Erika older. I was guiding her through life as Asta knew she couldn’t, yet Asta could never see me or make out our surroundings. She saw Erika swimming in the waters, learning weaponry and even saw Loki, yet only from behind and never knew his name. This was long before Jarles was ever hired.”

“Had she not ever heard your voice in public speeches?” Thor asked.

“No and I never forgot the moment we met. She bowed before me as Jarles introduced her and when I said hello, her head shot up and breathing deepened. Jarles asked her if she was alright, but she just kept staring at me. Out of concern, I touched her arm and her body jolted. She later described it as though an electrical current had coursed through every nerve within her.”

Thor stared in awe as she continued.

“Seconds later, Edgar was returning with Loki after visiting the dentist and stood in the doorway, waiting to be greeted. Asta took one look at Loki and fainted. Jarles thought it was her pregnancy, but I found out why soon enough.”

“Why did Asta not see herself guiding Erika?” Thor asked.

“This is another reason I don’t understand your Father. Asta predicted her own death, which I was never able to reveal until recently and it wasn’t until he learned this, that he even considered believing a word of her predictions.”

“Why did you not inform Father of these things sooner?”

“Asta believed it would create conflict between Jarles and your Father which would end negatively. The friendlier they remained, the better chance your Father and I would have of convincing Jarles to convince Erika to marry Loki.”

“You said Loki’s children would teach mine?”

“Yes. Remember Erika saying Loki wants you to value and respect him as your equal?” Thor nodded and Frigga became rather serious. “Listen to me, carefully. You mustn’t ‘ever’ forget the significance of that considering what I’m about to say, as you’ll need to teach your children the same towards their cousins. Due to their powers, two of Loki’s children will enter new worlds on missions before yours, infiltrating amongst their people and governments. Upon learning what’s needed, they’ll return to teach yours this valuable information.”

Thor stared at her, shocked. “Are you saying they’ll be shape shifters?”

“I am.”

“How many is he to have?”

Frigga smiled. “I know the numbers, but not the sexes and only two will have this ability. I’m also sworn to secrecy.”

“Why?”

“So Loki and Erika won’t choose to have them within any specific time period. Messing with their birth dates, could alter their destinies like yours.”

“Will the others have abilities?” He thought for a minute. “Wait, you know how many I’m to have too?”

“She smiled. “They all will, as will each of yours, but one.”

Thors brow furrowed. “What will be wrong with my one?”

“Nothing. He or she, will simply be born a normal Asgardian, but will have a talent for communications and become highly skilled in negotiating. They’ll work closely with one of Loki’s who will possess a very unique and specific set of skills.”

Thor went quiet, trying to process it all. “Holy shit. We’ll certainly have our work cut out for us.”

Frigga chuckled. “Yes, but first we must get ‘them’ married and having children.”

“Right.” Said Thor. “Does Father know Asta predicted all of this as well?”

“He does, yet you heard him say it’s all absurd. You must act as though you agree and go about your required business when seeing him. You can’t let him think you and Loki are getting along too well either. I’ll tell Loki the same when I see him this morning after speaking with Jarles.”

“For one who wishes to abdicate, Father certainly isn’t making it easy for himself.”

“For anyone.” Said Frigga. “That’s why I’ll be telling Loki and Erika they won’t be leaving the palace again until after your coronation and hopefully they’ll agree to spend that time in their chambers until then.”

Thor slid a hand down his face. “Oh no. Good luck convincing Loki of that.”

Two hours after informing Jarles of everything Asta had ever told him, Frigga was forced to leave him dumbfounded, yet sworn to more secrecy. Then she went to Loki and Erika.…

“Haven’t I done enough prison time?” Loki snapped. “Now you expect Erika to do it too because of him?”

“I know.” Said Frigga. “Please understand Darling? I’m trying to prevent him from bothering you any further and it’s only until Thor becomes King.”

“Thor may not agree with how he thinks Mother and I’m grateful for that, but I’m no fool. He’ll still be finding ways once retired, to torment me.”

“In that case, he’ll be spending much of his retirement alone.” She sternly replied.

Loki knew that tone meant business, but also knew she’d been looking forward to retirement. “It’s alright, I’ll stay put. Just concern yourself with Thor’s coronation and don’t worry about me. You’ve done that long enough.”

“A Mother never stops worrying about her children Loki, no matter what their age. Rest your wounds and I’ll see you soon.”

She turned to leave and Erika touched her arm. “Did my Father say anything about that young guard?”

Frigga sighed. “Yes and he didn’t survive. I’m sorry Darling.”

She left and Erika turned to Loki. “I didn’t think he would after what his friend told me and recalling those beasts.” She shuddered. “They probably tore…”

Loki put an arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Stop it Erika, you can’t keep thinking about it all. That isn’t good.”

“I know, but that won’t come easy.”

They started down the hall. “Too bad not as easily as you, hmm?”

“Very funny.” She replied. “Come, there’s much I need to tell you.”

Erika lead him to the library and he sat in awe as she revealed most of what Edgar had told her. Afterwards, he became pensive and she worried.

“Are you alright?”

Loki was deeply humbled. “I had no idea he thought so highly of me, yet I thought the same of him. I don’t recall him ever being unkind to me either, except for disapproving glances when I’d speak rudely to Mother.”

“You must have deserved those.” Erika teased.

“I’m sure I did.” Said Loki. “He had a great sense of humor too. When I was eight, Mother began teaching me how to move objects with magic in her library. Edgar was standing against some bookshelves while I focused on a rubber ball. In a flash, it suddenly sped towards a wall, bounced off across the room towards Edgar’s head and took his toupee with it, which we never knew he wore.”

Erika laughed. “What did he do?”

“He looked at us and calmly stated, ‘Well, I guess my secret’s out now isn’t it?’ Mother and I were in hysterics when he tried putting it back on while talking to it with his thick accent. ‘Why must you act out in public Samson? This behavior is highly unacceptable. I should shave you bald really.’”

“Samson?” She asked, still laughing.

Loki chuckled. “He never wore it again, but Samson became the butt of many jokes between Edgar and I.”

Erika took his hand. “He loved you like you were his own you know.”

“That’s flattering considering he was the only positive male influence I ever had. Did you know he thought quite highly of you too?”

“He did?” She asked.

“He told me when I visited him. ‘Your parents have done you a kindness with her Loki. She’s a lovely soul and will bring you much happiness.’”

“He was very sweet.” Said Erika. “I wish I could have known him better.”

“You wouldn’t have been disappointed.” Said Loki. “Although I did express my doubts about you.”

“Oh thanks!”

“You’re welcome. You can thank me later in other ways.”

“Don’t count on it!” Erika tried swatting at him with a throw pillow, but he pushed her back onto the couch and tickled her.

“You need to be faster than that.” He teased. “Even my one good arm is too skilled for you!”

“Okay, okay, I give!” She squealed.

“Ooooh, are you admitting defeat so easily my little submissive?”

“Yes! Stop!”

Loki released her and she darted off the couch. “You’re ruthless, you…”

He raised a finger. “Ah, mind your words. You may get yourself into more trouble than you bargained for.”

Erika readjusted herself. “Fine! I feel like having some wine. Care to have a glass on the balcony with me?”

“You might wish to adjust your bun first Darling. It’s a bit crooked.”

She left to do so, then found the wine outside and thought Loki had gone to the washroom. When finishing a full glass and he hadn’t returned, she became curious. Not finding him on the main floor, she went upstairs and saw their bedroom door closed. ‘Why did he come up here with crutches?’ She wondered.

When she opened the door, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, silently crying and she sat down embracing him. “Oh baby, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m so very sorry.”

[arcm-13]

Chapter Two - Underground (Fairy Hill : The Lost Hero)

When Adryane saw the faint white light coming from the wings of the fairy, she sighed of relief. The fairy was rubbing her head, still dizzy. They were buried in a place almost looking like it was other hallways part of the castle. The walls were covered in Emerald putting a greenish glow around them. Something grunted behind her. Kal was knock out and she reached for him. She shook him, " Kal please!" he opened his eyes and got up, quickly grabbing her arm, asking out of breath.

" Are you alright? "

" I almost crushed us and you ask me ? "

" I'm sorry — "

" No, stop, I'm sorry. "

He took her hands to get her attention," I told them there was an execution, thinking that because of them we had a chance to get out. "

" It kind of worked until I made the roof collapse ", She replied mumbling.

" Being chased by three psychos ? " He snored, " Sure that was going so well"

" Okay, we have both made horrible mistakes! "

" Yours was not a mistake "

" Yeah, I know, it's more of a serious problem "

He let her hand down and rose his hands in the air, surrendering, " There she goes again. " Adryane started to laugh uncontrollably, that obnoxious laugh that Kal missed. " I'm sorry", she said again, " It just that maybe I have doomed us all in this creepy cave and there is no exit. "

" There is always an exit" Said the fairy behind them.

" Yes, exactly " agreed Kal with a happy tone " And you have surely buried them for good" The roof was in a mass over them. They moved away a little away putting away the risk to have the same fate.

" Do you know what they were ? "

" I don't know really" he grunted at his inability to answer this question " They could be witches too, but we never saw witches so- "

" Fast, strong and have the ability to survive one of the most deadly poison?" continued Adry shivering from the memories of all the things that happened in the execution room.

" Look ! " Said the fairy, the two friend turned, " It's the book that the girl had in her arms! " They joined her and looked at the book as she turned it over to read the title, " Species here and beyond over the ages"

" That's the book they came for !? " Asked Kal disappointed.

" Maybe they didn't even know themselves " Proposed Adry opening the book and seeing the pages spotted with bloody fingerprints.

" That's kind of sad" said the fairy slowly. The two friends looked at her with surprised eyes. " I mean it's sad when you don't know who you are. "

" They were psychos, that's what they were" answered Kal.

Adryane and the fairy looked at each other with faint smiles while Kal took the book browsing the pages. The fairy felt uncomfortable after she realized that the executor didn't know either who she really was. " I hope I didn't scare you too much", said Adryane.

" Less than them, were you ? "

" I was terrified, more for you two than me" She replied with a smile, " So... " She presented a hand to the fairy" I'm Adryane"

" Reagan" She shook her hand and at that moment they knew they were no more the executor and the executed. They were allies against the cruel world they lived in.

" I think they found something, look at that " Pointed Kal showing the book to the two girls, " See, they made an X right beside The Shapeshifters, but there is nothing about them." Adryane looked at the curious blank page with only the name of the species in the left corner. He closed the book so suddenly he made Adry and Reagan jumped, " There must be something more in the archives in Obsidian !" He smiled to his best friend" Are you ready to go back home ?"

She crossed her arms on her chest," You seriously want to investigate this ?"

" Yes, we could learn about a new threat that is coming upon us. "

" I'm with your friend, Adry. That could be interesting and I'm curious "

" Thank you" He said, immediately sharing a smile with Reagan.

" I just want to forget all of this and go home, maybe it's a waste of time"

" No it's not, now come on, let's move."

Reagan rose one hand up to light their way, when they all heard a noise behind them. She lit up towards the noise and the piece of roof in front of them began to move. One flew out and Adryane pushed Kal out of the way. " No way !" murmured Reagan, and she was right. There was no way that the three intruders were still alive, but here they were, getting out of the remains of the roof like undead. A hand was out trying to push away other pieces.

" Can they die !? "

Adryane grabbed both hands of her friends bringing them to run away while they still could. She didn't know at all where to go, but away from them was still better. A huge part of the roof crashed between them, separating Adry from the others. She didn't lose time to try to call back Kal , when she saw the three siblings in the distance, up and walking. She heard Kal and Reagan call her name, but they were out of reach from the others, safe, and not her.

As other parts of the roof crashed behind her, she hoped to lose them by taking a road to the right, then to the left, then she collided in the tall brother. He grabbed her arm, so she would not fall back. His touch gave her visions, it was a cute laugh and curly long blond hair flashes and the rain upon her face, something feeling familiar. She stepped back as he was stung, because he had seen it too. " Why do you this ?"

" Why do you care to know ? "

" I'm pleading for you to stop this"" She continued,

She got him, his head got down to catch her eyes with an angry look, then he sighed strongly, all his chest tension going down, " We need the book back"

" I don't have it"

She looked back when she heard the two siblings calling for their brother. She pleaded with him again. He looked at their shadows, and he grabbed her arm again, but instead of giving her to them he spun around and took her away. When they were far away enough that its was safer, he let her arm drop, and she stopped.

" I can bring you to your friends"

" It's a manipulation, you are lying. "

" I took you away, I saved your life"

" Why me and not the others ? " She spat back " Kal said it looked like bloodbath, you have taken innocent lives" He pressed his hand on her mouth as the siblings passed by calling the brother's name. " Cahelm are you keeping her for you alone? "

When the silence came back, he took his hand off carefully and warned her: " It's your last chance to get out safely, I can sense them and your friends too. I can bring you to them in exchange for the book."

" That's all you want ?" She asked slowly after.

" This is what I only want, maybe not my siblings "

He made an embarrassed face.

" What are you ?"

He didn't answer her and just lead the way. Adryane followed him not far behind and felt so little on this underground path. It was like they could build another castle here. She then looked at Cahelm's back. The image of him taking the guards hearts like they were petals of a flower came back to her mind. She shivered and closed her eyes to push it away. He was helping her now.

She tripped over some rocks and her toe started bleeding. She could not really see in the faint light that was coming from the top. Cahelm bent down besides her and looked at her toe intensely. He then took a deep breath and looked at her " You must cover it up, it will not help us if you are putting your scent around. "

She ripped out a strip from the sleeve of her gown and tied it up covering her toe. He got up and presented a hand to her. She took it after a little hesitation, and they heard the siblings getting close again. He placed his hand on her shoulder, so she listened with caution.

" You follow this path " He lifted his finger toward it. " You will meet your friends in two-step. "

Adry looked at him with worries as the sibling were close too. " I will bring them on another path and this will be over, you will be free."

" And the book ? She asked remembering the deal.

" You can leave it on the ground. "

She nodded and then began to walk towards the path. She turned one last time around " Thank you ".

It didn't take long when Adry met her two friend back. Kal embraced her and give her a kiss on the forehead.

" I was so scared!"

" I'm alright" She almost cried out " I'm alright," She whispered making a smile to Reagan. " He let me go. He helped me " She said still in surprise.

" Who ? "

" The tall brother, they really want the book back, we could- "

" No, no ,no " He said rapidly " I'm keeping it-"

" Are you crazy!" She shouted", they will follow us! I said we would give it back as a deal to save our asses! "

" They had the book with them earlier, and they still wanted to kill! "

" We have something to deal this time! "

" I don't want to try, they could be backstabbers and I don't care about the deal!"

" I talked with the brother !"

" Does not mean they couldn't do it again !"

She let out a scream of rage and turned around trying making herself calm again. Reagan was not far with her little hand glowing, she was looking at them with wide eyes. " I'm still keeping the book" murmured a grumpy Kal behind. She glared at him until she heard a faint noise, something crawling, something she couldn't see.

" What was that ? "

" It's them ?" Asked Reagan with a little voice.

" No, that Nik guy would have leaned over to Adry and said Hello in the most flirtatious voice ever and then ripped our hearts like the guard" Began Kal and Adryane made a disgusting groan. " Seriously Adry, you see what you attract? "

" Will you stop with that!"

" But it's true that you are beautiful. " Said Reagan.

" That's not the point, stop it both of you, I really heard something !"

Kal gripped his book tighter when Adryane passed besides him looking for the noise that she heard. Reagan began to scream and shook her hand, " Something is on my hand! " She twirled around making her hand sway around.

" Stop the light!"

The glow from the hand of the fairy disappeared, and she stopped shaking her hand. Only the faint glow of her wings could make them see something. " This was an invisible goblin, they are attracted to the bright light" Explained Kal. Adryane looked around wondering if she ever was to make it out of this bloody shire.

***

Maze dodged another falling piece of the roof. What was amazing was that she didn't need light to see where she was going. She always interpreted this ability as she was a part of this darkness herself " This witch have the real idea of fun, she beat us brother"

" Seriously who is she ? " He asked with a grin.

They were the less predictable preys of the day. They surprised them two times and when they joined their older brother it was up to three. He was looking shocked, waiting for them ."

" Where is the girl ? " He got in front of his brother.

" I let her go... "

" What !? Unbelievable"

Nik turned around disappointed while Maze rubbed Cahelm's arm " What is it ?"

" Something happened when I touched her, anyway we lost the book "

" She had it ?" Asked Maze

" Not her, but the two other might "

" So you let her join them, so we can get it back with a bonus ?" Nik came back trying to find sense in his brother last second kindness " Can you get us back to them? "

" Yes, except I want to negotiate with them"

" What ?! Seriously?! "

Maze smiled faintly, Nik always got so dramatic when they broke the routine.

" I could not !" He explained tired of his brother reaction." She made me see her " Maze felt her heart tighten by this mention, because she would have let her go too.

" You had a heartfelt conversation with her ? Why did you let her do that?"

" Don't you think there was enough death for tonight, lets us just go back to them, negotiate for the book and let them go"

Nik was holding a grudge, but finally agreed with his classic angry sigh, " I'm sorry to break the fun, but my mood for it is gone." continued Cahelm.

" It's alright, Cal "

Maze rubbed his back while he guided them, they stayed silent except Nik. His disappointment was echoing on the emeralds. That stupid book, she had found some pages when everything went down. " I marked a couple of pages, before our dear brother decided that fun time was more important "

" Now it's my fault ? "

" No" She laughed " I'm just saying we could have the answer really soon. "

" Seriously I don't care about this "

She didn't answer right away, she had her excitation broken" That explains a lot" She then looks at him with confusion " Why did you accept to come here then ? "

" You two want to know and I care about that "

" You just don't want the answer ? " She asked with a comprehensive smile. There was a part of fear in there too, because it could explain a lot about them. Her brother responded with a faint smile, and she sighed, putting an arm around his shoulder. When they stopped, they heard the same sound.

" They are still here "

" Hey, we just want the book back, you can come out "

" We know, we wanted to kill you, but we will let you go if you give it "

" Or else it's going like earlier"

The fairy got out in front of them, " How sweet" Murmured Maze. She raised her hand and lit it up and before the siblings could talk more, she threw it between their feet where they scattered pages and it caught fire.

" What a bad aim "

" Or a good plan " Said Kal with a victorious smile getting out with the witch behind him. The three siblings got dragged with an invisible force while the three others ran away.

" Stupid goblins ! " Nik got his hair pulled, " Someone gets this fire down! "

They all swayed around, trying to get rid of these annoying creatures. They collapsed on the rock wall. Maze knocked her arm on it and green blood splattered. One was pulling her hair, she tried to take it away, but he was stuck in them. She groaned in frustration, " Little — "

One jumped in her face, pulling her cheeks. They heard little evil cackles for these invisible nuisance. Cahelm finally got the fire light out and Maze could get the one away from her face and threw it away. They heard them crawling away back in their cracks with little growls and little murmurs in their unknown language.

" I think it's a normal reaction from them, we have to gain their trust."

" Or just take it by force " Nik began to walk and Cahelm stopped him.

" A little help here! " Maze was still struggling with the one in her hair.

" A new companion!" Said Nik going towards to help her at the same time Cahelm was.

" Funny" she snarled " but one goblin in this family is enough" Nik giggled

The little invisible goblin finally let go of her hair and Cahelm replaced her black locks in a better position. " What a stupid day" She mumbled.

" Come on sister, it's not because we were humiliated like what three time ?"

She was tired, not sleepy tired, but tired of this stupidity, " Let's take the book out of their hands, no talking, killing them I don't care! " She pointed her brother " We have finished playing for today"

That stopped the commentary of Nik during the rest of the following walks. This was always like that in this family since they were born. The kind of sibling that stay together no matter what, that had a lot of love, respect and sharing between them. Except sometimes they were getting on each other's nerves. Maze could do anything for them, and she knew they would do anything for her too. Always walking the earth in a deadly trio.

The cave led to a bigger one, a waterfall was falling each side of a bridge made of emerald. It was kind of beautiful, Maze never saw this underground, her who had seen all of Fairy Hill. She still found things that surprised her and then her feet made something crack under it. It was an emerald jewelry, the one who was on the chest of the witch. " Do you think that girl was an eclipse witch ?"

Nik let Cahelm pass in front of him and looked at her sister with a doubtful pout " They don't exist anymore sister. "

" But did you feel that power and the queen kept her close, no ? "

" Maybe, Queen Meira surely want to be powerful, having an eclipse witch at her side and control it. "

" She is one " commented Cahelm.

" How ? " Maze moved between her brother trying to understand " People of Obsidian have forbidden and cursed them, they have killed babies that were born under a lunar eclipse, because they were all disappearing one after the other, it is seen as a curse. "

" If she is one, her mommy must have hid her or given her to the queen "

" This kind of girl must be free not kept in a cage. "

They followed the road, but it was easier because little parts of a light gold armor was scattered along the way. Nik scoffed, " If she continues like that we are going to find her free from clothes. "

" Pervert "

[hayaomiyazaki]

Transcript: MAURICE 4K restoration Q&A with James Ivory

I had the absolute, tear-inducing honor of seeing Maurice (1987), one of my favorite novels and films, in its 4K restoration at the Quad Cinema in NYC last week, which included a Q&A between critic David D’Arcy and the film’s director James Ivory. I have included a transcript of the Q&A below the cut (I’m not a professional but I did my best). Enjoy!

DD: How many of you saw this film in NY 30 years ago? Oh my God. Wow. Who saw it for the first time tonight? Please ask a question. Wow. How difficult was it to put this financing deal together 30 years ago? JI: It wasn’t difficult because we’d made A Room with a View, so everyone was very, you know, into what we were gonna do next. I mean, it really wasn’t a problem. DD: So, when this film opened, it played at The Paris [Theater], and Jim [?] told me before we walked in that it played for four months, which seems ― for anything besides a studio film that’s locked in somewhere ― seems like an eternity. A Room with a View played for over a year, was it? JI: Over a year, yeah. DD: Yeah. Happy with the four months or did that not exceed your expectations? JI: Well, who would not be happy at The Paris Theater? DD: So, I read― We did an interview about this in San Francisco about six weeks ago, and what I didn’t know as I was doing research on this is that there was some resistance on the part of the estate that this be made into a movie. Is that right? JI: That is correct. DD: Talk about that. JI: Well, it had nothing to do with the subject matter of the book; it had to do with the belief of writers and literary critics and so on that of all his novels, it was the least good, and that, therefore, if we were to draw attention to it by making it into a film, in some kind of way that it might pull down his literary reputation. So for that reason, they were― When we said we wanted to make it, which was after they... I won’t say that they refused or anything like that, but they were surprised and not especially enthusiastic. DD: Did they take some convincing? How did that happen? JI: Nah. One meeting and it was all okay. We went in there and― Well, they wondered why we had wanted to do A Room with a View and not A Passage to India, and when we said we wanted to do A Room with a View ― the first time when we went to his [Forster’s] executors ― their mouths fell open and they said, “That little book? Why would you want to do that?” DD: So you didn’t have your normal screenwriting partner [Ruth Prawer Jhabvala] working on this project. Why was that? JI: Well, there were two reasons. She was in the midst of writing a novel and she didn’t want to be interrupted in that; that was the novel called Three Continents [(1987)]. And she was also one of those who thought this was his least good book, and she called the book and the film “sub-Forster” and “sub-Ivory,” she said. However, she was enormously helpful. When Kit [Hesketh-]Harvey and I had written the screenplay, she was very, very helpful in making suggestions that would help the story. It was her whole idea for the trial of Risley―I mean, Risley being set up and then arrested (Lord Risley, the friend from Cambridge) and sent to prison. And as a real reason to frighten Clive into some sort of quote-unquote “normal” adult life. That was her idea; that’s not in the novel. There were other things, too... She was always very good at helping one cut things down. DD: Looking back at the way critics saw the film in ’87, what do you think now? Talk about the reaction of the critics. JI: Well the reaction was good here. We never met people―I mean, everybody seemed to like it. And it was right at the height of the AIDS epidemic, and I think, really, people―[mumbling]―there to, you know, confuse issues of morality with a lot going on. No one said, “This is a film that should not be made or should remain,” whatever. There was nothing of that sort. But I think the shadow of the AIDS crisis quieted people. But, really, they were pretty enthusiastic back in the day. I didn’t feel too stabbed [?]... except in England. DD: Tell us about that. JI: Well there, the reaction was strange, really. As somebody put it ― it changed in the direction of the critics, almost all of whom were male ― he called it “mealy-mouthed.” And their reaction was not all that supportive. But almost to the [mumbling], they were gay: every single film critic. So you figure that out. DD: In the film that you just saw, there’s a great line that I’m going to mangle, which is that the English have a hard time accepting human nature [“England has always been disinclined to accept human nature”]. So, some casting choices that you made which were not― I thought the actors fit those roles very, very well, but you had other people in mind originally. Would you talk about that? JI: Well, yeah. Well, Julian Sands was going to play Maurice and John Malkovich was going to play the hypnotist [Dr. Lasker-Jones, played by Ben Kingsley]. John Malkovich was Julian’s great friend and they had worked together in [The] Killing Fields [(1984)], and they were going to play those two parts. Then Julian had some kind of crisis of...his, in which he left the film, his agent, his wife and child, and his country, and came to live in New York for a while. And so he pulled out, like, three weeks before we were ready to start. I mean, the film was all cast, everything was there, we found the locations: everything was ready. And then we had to replace him. But I had met James Wilby. James Wilby played a little, very tiny part ― tiny, you don’t even know it! ― in A Room with a View. I met him and I thought he might work, and he called me back. DD: Have you ever had the experience before of an actor pulling out at the last minute? JI: Not pull out, but― Yeah, we did. In A Soldier’s Daughter Never Cries, Nick Nolte was supposed to play the role of the father in that, and he got involved in doing Thin Red Line, and he was off in the South Pacific somewhere for months and months and months and months longer than he was supposed to be. So he had to be replaced. Then, Kris Kristofferson, who, I think, knew about the situation and had heard about it, and read script ― he offered to do it. He wanted to play the part and I’m terribly glad he did. Nick would have been great, but also Kris was just fantastic in that. I think! DD: I know we’re gonna have some questions from the audience, so I have two general questions I want to ask because I think other people might also be very interested. Why did your producer-director-screenwriter partnership [with Ruth Prawer Jhabvala] last as long as it did? Longer than most marriages, longer than almost anything? How do you account for that? JI: Well, it’s like the American government. Why has it lasted so long? I was the president, Ismail [Merchant] was Congress, and Ruth was the Supreme Court. And we all respected ― we tried ― we respected each other. Each of us did perform our functions and then there was great love and affection there, and that was also part of it. DD: One other thing. There’s a term that’s come to be used: the “Merchant-Ivory film.” Did a critic name that or you, Ismail― JI: No! DD: How did that term come about? JI: No, I don’t. I mean, it’s fine. It’s okay. Why not? Now we’re like a certain kind of movie. People come and actually offer me a book to autograph of novels that were made into films that we didn’t make. So... DD: Alright, let’s get some― Right here, please. Speak up! We don’t have a mic. Audience 1: It’s a pleasure. [mumbling] I was on the set watching you guys film ― JI: Oh yeah? Audience 1: ― [mumbling] Real quick question. Filming at [University of] Cambridge, I know you guys had a problem in some of the halls― JI: No, only the chapel. That’s where the row was. Audience 1: Oh, okay. And you [D’Arcy] mentioned Merchant-Ivory. Things like Downtown Abbey [sic] have a strong hold... [mumbling and a man next to me talking over my recording; Audience 1 asks about Ivory’s being American and his repertoire of films that have become part of British cinematic culture and history]. JI: You know, I always think of these as American films. I’m American, so how can they― Nobody else is British who made them, except for the actors and the crew, but, you know, they don’t count. [audience laughs] So, to me, I’ve always thought of them as American films. And I know what you’re saying, and I don’t think the English ever liked calling them British films. They didn’t really accept them as British or think of them as British. They were too weird and foreign. Audience 1: I think of them as British― JI: Well that’s really Forster. And, of course, it was in the case of [Kazuo] Ishiguro― I mean, you know about that, with The Remains of the Day. Yeah. DD: Other questions? [quick issue with the mic not working, and D’Arcy gets up to fix it] Audience 2: Mr. and Mrs. Bridge [(1990)] seems to reflect a very similar class structure. So many of your films deal with that very rigid class structure. People suffered greatly. It seems to me that Kansas City, Missouri is eerily the same and unchanging to this day, and it fascinated me [mumbling] that you wanted to do Evan Connell’s great books. JI: Well, I was interested in those two novels ― Mrs. Bridge and Mr. Bridge ― when we were working in India. And strangely enough― I mean, we were getting on a train in Calcutta to go to Delhi, and there were these guys that had these rolling book carts. I had read Mrs. Bridge and just thought it was an extraordinary book and I loved it, and then there was Mr. Bridge being sold in a Calcutta station. So I got that and read it on the train. And then we arrived in Delhi and I gave the books to Ruth Jhabvala and I said, “This would make, I think, a wonderful movie. I love it.” She read them and she said, “We couldn’t possibly make this into a movie!” I didn’t think about it for a while. Then, I learned, later on, once I’d met Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward ― just sort of met them socially ― I learned that Joanne Woodward was actually going to make a television version of Mrs. Bridge. I thought that, “Why don’t we combine the two books and make a film?” And then Ruth was ready to go along. She said it was one of the most enjoyable scripts for her... periods of work for her. That and The Golden Bowl were her two favorite pieces of work. Audience 3: There’s one scene where Maurice is having breakfast with his family and his sisters are there, and there’s a woman that’s never identified. JI: That’s― Yeah. The film had a different form once. The film was written― I mean, the script was written as a kind of flashback for much of it. I remember her name was Gladys, and she was the girl that Maurice imagined or tired to kiss and she pulled away from him in some kind of... distaste. That was a friend of the sisters; that’s who that was: Gladys. Audience 3: [can’t make out exactly what Audience 3 says here because she stopped using the mic, but she asks about any deleted scenes] JI: Well, I don’t know. That may be― I don’t know what’s happening with the cut out scenes in this current restoration. I think they’re probably there. I think you’ll find those scenes in there. DD: Okay, the man sitting right there. Audience 4: Can you hear me? Maurice’s mom ― is that the same actress that played Mrs. Baylock in Richard Donner’s The Omen? JI: Yep. Billie Whitelaw. DD: Okay, I was told I have one question left, but that was so short that we’ll give another one. Yes? Audience 5: In 1997 [he is misspeaking and means 1987, the year Maurice was released], there were a couple years there where there were several movies about gay people that were positive and encouraging and this is obviously was. [mumbling] To what extent, given when it was made, was it a political decision for you [mumbling]? DD: Can everybody hear him? I don’t want to paraphrase that. Audience 5 [with mic]: When you made the movie in 1997 [he is misspeaking and means 1987, the year Maurice was released], there was all sorts of stuff going on. To what extent was it actually a political decision or was it just― JI: It wasn’t a political decision. It really wasn’t. I mean, I read the book― We were going to make another movie and that fell through, and suddenly we didn’t know what we were going to do. And I reread that book ― not especially looking to do it or anything ― and I liked it very much, and I saw its resemblance, in many ways to A Room with a View: it’s about muddled young people who are living a lie. And I thought this would be a very good film to make, and also relevant to the day because that hasn’t changed... and that’s how it came about. Audience 5: It was a very good film for a muddled young person. JI: Yes, I know. We want you less muddled. DD: Okay, ask your question, and then I’m going to get in trouble for letting people ask [mumbling]. Audience 6: In the extended set ― there’s a DVD set which now seems to be quite rare ― there was an entire character that was cut out of the film: the young boy. JI: Yeah. Right. Audience 6: The movie is 2 hours and 20 minutes. Was that just done because of time? JI: That was―that was done―Yeah. That was part of this whole flashback situation. Audience 6: I see. JI: But he [Adrian Ross Magenty] turns up again in Howards End [(1992)]. He’s the Schlegel brother, the young brother of the Schlegel sisters. DD: Okay, ask your question. Audience 7: Given the time that you did make this film, did you have a particular vision yourself ― I’m sure that you did ― what your vision was in terms of what you were trying to achieve with this particular story at that particular time? JI: Well, I was trying to achieve what Forster was trying to achieve: I just wanted to tell that story. And as much as possible cinematically, and with is tone of voice. I didn’t set myself a sort of goal to achieve, something I’ve almost never been able to do...that. We just, you know, do our best to go on. [laughs] I really didn’t think of it in that kind of way. DD: Do we have time for one more? Yes! Oh, good! Audience 8: I’m a musician, and the music is stunning, of course. It is such a melancholy feeling in the beginning. How much of that was collaborative [mumbling] discussing the tone of the music, which lends so much emotional texture to the film? JI: Well, the way we used to work was― I mean, he [Richard Robbins] would have read the novel and then he would have read screenplay and then he would have seen― he would have been getting ideas already and thinking about what he might do. Then he would see the rough cut and then he would see the final cut, and somewhere along in there, he and I would sit down together and he would play me things or he would have certain themes he wanted to develop. We’d talk about it a bit. But, on the whole... I mean, it was a step-by-step process, him always going ahead for all the films. DD: Okay, we’re getting the hook here. There’s another sold out screening! Thank you all for coming after 30 years. Thank you very much, James Ivory.

[arrelwarburn]

A long Long Day : Part 1

Morning over Dalaran wasn’t especially different than evening over Dalaran. The lights within the mage city kept night as bright as day, shops were open late, and there was always something going on. But today was only a little bit different.  When Arrel awoke, Aria, Rebecca, AND Karrista stood over his bed, shaking the bed... and not Arrel Directly gently. “Arrel?” Karrista had dropped her usual teasy and seductive demeanor for one more serious and if not panicked, then definitely worried. The reason for shaking his bed became evident as the man wheeled out of bed into a combative stance, fist already in mid-swing at nothing. This behavior an apparent parting gift from his Executor experience. “Wh-What?” He blinked and looked at each of the three women, all had similar looks of upset and concern. “Arrel.. are you actually awake?” Aria asked, the smokey voice tense. “I.. Yeah.. I think so..” He shook his head and inhaled, slowing the tumultuous thundering of his heart to a mere cacophony.  “Then.. How about you put on some clothes, if you want to fight evil today.” Rebecca quipped. Arrel’s nude state did nothing to abate the tension in the room, speaking novels about what he was likely to head next. He dressed, donning even his chestplate and made his way into the offices of the Kiden’s Joint Special Operations Command. He looked with some surprise to see not only the three regulars of his office, but also Sea’zel, who he’d known had been reassigned to him, but hadn’t heard she’d actually made it to her new quarters. He also saw Lord Niteblood of Igrayne. Lovely... Just what I need in my day today... him...

“Commander Warburn.. Good morning.” Arrel’s mirror image spoke. A few other Igraynians were with him, some he’d met only briefly during operations, but none he’d spoken with outside of that. Lord Niteblood Continued “ I hate to wake you, but the need is pressing. Several of my people.. Hirelings who handled some of the lower risk endeavors... were supposed to report in two days ago after taking survey of legion forces on the Broken Shores. I know that there’s plenty of Alliance and Horde forces there already, But I suspect they weren’t looking for the same indications as we were...” E’an trailed off. “Alright, What indications?” Arrel looked between his contemporaries and saw only blank faces. “I suspect the Legion, sensing defeat is pulling out all the stops, and not just pulling in all their forces from all the worlds at their disposal, but also from all the Sca-... Dimensions.. they have access to as well. Indications infer that they are looking to not just crush THIS Azeroth, but ALL Azeroths across all realities.” E’an spoke matter-of-factly, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Arrel blanched, “Ok, so.. despite that sounding like a very Legion thing to do, Why are you here?” “I think, they plan to take THIS one first, using overwhelming forces and then from here, use what to an Igraynian, is called a Scale Gate to journey onward.” He inhaled and blew out his breath. “For what ever reason, this scale of reality.. this dimension, seems to be a confluence point between other realities and would make a damn good jumping off point for future expansion.” “Alright?” Arrel nodded understanding the words, but only something of the import. “So.. we stop them from taking OUR Azeroth to secure others, yes?” “Yes... But there’s more to it than that. Agasti Forbid, if we should fail in that task... The confluence must be destroyed. One world’s lost is a great concern.. but.. the loss of enumerable worlds.. is not something I can allow to happen.” E’an looked over at Arrel sternly. “And.. Neither can you.” Arrel sputtered. “So what.. if we don’t defeat the legion.. you’re gonna destroy the world?” “Do not scoff at things you don’t understand Arrel.” Rebecca warned gently. “The legion’s ability to move through dimensional space is a concern.. but pairing that with access to the scale - gates.. would be worse.” Arrel snapped, “Then blow up the damn gates!”  Karrista looked over at Arrel, obviously confused. “Scale-gates?” E’an fielded this question, “The way Igraynians... Move to where they are needed. It’s a nexus of conduits between worlds... between realities. It’s less crude and more reliable than the Legions dimensional rifts, and infinitely more predictable when jumping long distances or to not-immediately related realities. The problem becomes to what else they are connected.. which we shall not now discuss.” Aria turned pale. “The Forge...” She said without thinking. E’an nodded and exhaled. “The Forge, indeed.” Rebecca growled “You’re Buddy Sarius has to be LOVING this.” E’an’s eyebrows rose, “Oddly, I haven’t heard from any of Reikai’s followers, let alone Sarius. But, in honestly.. the Legion represents order. Well.. AN order. Oppressive and destructive, not the chaos of new-birth that Sarius seems to serve.” Karrista pursed her pretty lips and asked. “Sarius, Reikai? Too many things I don’t seem to know here.”  Arrel shrugged, un-helpfully. “If Igrayne represents balance and order in a way that preserves free will and the Cycle of Life and Death.. Sarius and the Followers of Reikai are the other side of that coin. They seek to disrupt the balance and bring about a new structure to the multi-verse through disrupting the one that exists now. Total chaos to invent a new system. Make sense?” Karrista shook her head, but said simply, “Sort of.” E’an interrupted the exchange. “A lot of this is Igraynian business, the reason we are here on your Azeroth, and as such needs to stay know only to a thin level to most of you. I’m sorry, that’s how it has to be.” He looked around the room, garnering nods from some, deep frowns from others. Arrel sat back in his chair, folded his arms. “Alright so.. What’s the ask here, Lord Niteblood?” E’an nodded. “To be very very succinct, to do exactly as you propose to go on. Destroy the Scale gates.. before they can be accessed by the legion. Rally your forces through the JSOC and help us make a hard push against the legion.. Perhaps into the Tomb itself.” Arrel lofted an eyebrow. “To get my people together, approval from Lochlyn ... or Malurra if Lochlyn is out of pocket, gather supplies, plan the attack.. We’re looking at .. Two Months, maybe? Thirty days if I push?” Arrel asked Karrista, who of late had taken over some of Rebecca’s clerical duties. “We push in Four Days, Arrel.” E’an said with the most stoic and cold tones Arrel’d ever heard of the man. Even Sea’zel blanched at this. “Four Days Lord Niteblood? This.. This is not possible!” “It has to be.. If we don’t give them a bloody nose, and set them back.. they could call in their additional warships and demons and simply overwhelm us as soon as next week.” E’an inhaled.

[bucketluvr]

The Past - Anakin X Padmé X Reader

 The barrel of the stormtroopers gun presses to the boys head. The boy doesn’t flinch.  The possible reason why suddenly hits you. This boy, he’s Force sensitive, you can feel it. Have they found him? No, no, no it’s just like with that youngling on Raydonia-

 “You dirty little Loth-rat! Stealing from the Galactic Empire is treasonous!“

 The statement doesn’t force the terror from your veins. The scene flickers. It’s a clone and a youngling, then its the child and the stormtrooper. You scream in fear and rage. You won’t let that happen again.

 The trooper turns his head slowly. You look straight into the visor of his helmet, looking calm for someone who’d just screamed, giving themselves away to Jedi hunters.

 You pull Padmé’s old blaster from your cloak. Padmé. Your heart aches, and you attempt to push the thought of your wife down. You press the blaster to the trooper’s own head. “Get. Away. From. Him.”

 Someone’s behind you!, the Force screams. An armoured arm wraps around your neck, and the cool circle of a blaster barrel digs into your neck. “Put the weapon down, Jedi!”

 You knew they’d figure it out at some point. You saw the wanted posters and holograms of your face everywhere you go. They want you more than they want Obi-Wan. That never sat well with you.

 “Vader wants me alive,” you hiss. “You can’t kill me.”

"That’s what stun is for.“ The trooper says.

The Force predicts his next move. Stunning you. You drop, quickly averting the troopers trajectory to the one with the blaster aimed at the boy. He falls to the ground, and the boy just stares. A woman, presumably his mother, yells from the gathering crown. People don’t see much action on Lothal. "Ezra, come on!”

Circular stun bolts fly around you. You duck, getting out your lightsaber and cutting through the bolts like air. You haven’t used it in fourteen years, almost fifteen, now. About two months from now is fifteen years after everything crumbled like the crumbly briskets they sell at markets. Fifteen years after everything and everyone you loved was destroyed or murdered. A bolt hits you in the arm, forcing you to drop your saber. Another seizes the advantage to hit you in the back. You fall onto your stomach, and when you go to get up, a boot presses into the back of your neck. Binders snap onto your wrists.

 When you turn your head, you seeing the smiling face of Willhuff Tarkin.

 “(Y/ N) (L/N). Former General in the Grand Army of the Republic, Jedi Knight. Born on Felucia. Padawan to Aaayla Secura. Traitor to the Empire.” Tarkin says.

"Thank you,“ you roll your eyes. "But I’m pretty sure I know this already, because…you know…that’s me-”

 Tarkin’s boot retreats from your neck, only to come down on the back of your head. Your face grins into the cement, and you feel blood pouring from your nose, and a burning sensation on the side of your face where it scraped against the gravel. Only slight injuries, compared to what you’ve withstood.

 "I knew you were annoying, but I never knew you were so violent, Governor-”

Tarkin pounds your face into the ground again. You hiss in between clenched teeth. He sneers. “You don’t know when to stop, do you? No wonder you and Skywalker got along so well.”

Let’s not forget Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Padmé…You add silently. They hadn’t known when to stop either.

“And it’s no wonder you and Palpatine got along so well, you cruel, wrinkled, bitches-“

Tarkin kicked your head into the cement once more, harder this time. Your nose is most likely broken by now. He keeps his foot there, so he’s practically stepping on your head.

 You hear a dial click, and you know what it is. A needler. A cruel weapon that sends streams of red electricity to assault the victim’s body, a Zygerrian favorite, actually. You sigh. There nothing else you can do.

 It’s aimed at your back. You sense Tarkin pull the trigger, and a second later streams of violent, deadly, lightning attack your body. You cry out, emitting the first signs of serious pain since Tarkin’s gotten to you. You see black spots at the edges of your vision. They threaten to take over, to swallow you up. Perhaps that’s a better option.

 "Stop.”

 The voice is clear and strong. It’s almost mechanical, as if it’s been disrupted by a helmet.

 The electricity ceases. A pair of armoured boots near you and Tarkin.

 "I will handle (L/N) myself.” He informs Tarkin sharply.

 “Very well,” Tarkin says. You sense him leave.

 “Bring her to me,” the monotone voice says. A pair of trooper lift you by the arms, your knees dragging on the ground and your head dropping. Vader gestures for them to let go when they reach you. He drops to a crouch, holding your shoulders to steady you. They slowly move towards your face, and you struggle away from Vader. The trooper behind you brings the butt of his blaster down on your head.

  Vader’s sudden rage burst through his thick mental shields, making you flinch with surprise. Choking, gurgling sounds resonate in your ears. You struggle to get  glimpse of what going on, with Vader’s firm grip on your shoulders. Suddenly, a neck snaps behind you.

 You barely have time to comprehend what has happened. Vader’s hands are cradling your face, scanning it under the oval voids of the mask. You find yourself wanting to lean into his touch, like you would’ve done with Anakin or Padmé, on evenings when-

 No. Anakin is dead. Padmé is dead. They will never touch you again, never hug you. You’ll never snuggle up to the both of them after a hard mission, or never comfort each other when your PTSD acts up. You repeat the phrase in your head like a mantra: they’re gone, they’re gone, they’re gone, they’re gone-

 You jerk back suddenly. You realise Vader had accessed your mind. He could probably break you with just those memories and the mantra.

 “Take her to my ship,” Vader says. “I’ll take her aboard the Executor for imprisonment.”

The sound of a door opening cuts through your meditation. You don’t open your eyes. The beacon of pride and arrogance surrounding the Force signature is enough for you to figure out it’s Tarkin again.

“An unexpected pleasure, Captain-“

"It’s Grand Moff, my dear. In the last fifteen years, unlike you, I have actually done something,” Tarkin says.

"Don’t call me that, Captain.“ You hiss, spitting the dated title solely to piss him off. "Second, I’d like to update my greeting: this is not a pleasure, it is a grueling waste of my time.”

 “You certainly have a lot of time, my dear.” He gestures to your bond form. “If you’ll excuse me, we must get on with our interrogations,” Tarkin says, smacking a button. In comes a interrogation droid.

 “Wonderful,” you mutter, followed by a string off profanities aimed at Tarkin.

 Tarkin’s smile is cold. He waves the droid on. It injects you with a grayish liquid, and you will yourself not to flinch.

 The liquid bounds into effect. It seems like your drowning, unable to do anything but comply. To what, you don’t know. Yet.

 “Let’s begin,” Tarkin grins like a child to a new toy. “Which clone battalion did you command?”

 “Pointless,” you spit, your words slurred from the liquid. “Just look at your data pad, you sleemo. I am one hundred percent sure the information is there, Captain.”

 “Grand Moff-”

 “Captain.” You argue. Maybe if you belittle him he’ll back off.

 “I am a Grand Moff-”

 “You’re a captain.” You say stubbornly.

 “Foolish.” He spits. “Now, which clone battalion did you command?”

  The liquids push is a aching reminder at the back of your mind.

  "239th,“ you say. That’s just a random number you made up. You really don’t want to give the Empire anything, even useless information like this. Not after they ripped your life to shreds.

  "Incorrect,” the interrogator hooks it mechanical fingers inside your nose, and yanking backwards with force. “Answer honestly, Jedi General (Y/N) (L/N).”

  "That data is outdated. I’m not a general. You stripped me of every title and honor I have possessed.“

 "Answer!” The droid screams.

 “No.”

  This was going to be a long day.

 You’d given up. You answered all their questions, occasionally fucking up the story or a number. Blood smeared the side of your face, your clothes smoked from electricity, and your body ached from the droid’s torture.

 "Since I seem to have broken you, (L/N), how close were you to-“ he smiles. "Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala?”

  You flinch. Anakin died. He was killed by the clones. Every time you reach for him in the Force, it’s just a wall of darkness. Padmé, she died before she could give birth to you, Anakin and her child. You spend your nights tossing and turning, trying to forget that night. Sometimes you wonder, why am I alive and they aren’t?

  You’re almost glad they’ve ripped down Republic propaganda. You would’ve broken down in tears.

 You draw in a shuddering breath, your mind bursting with sadness and emptiness at them being killed. Rage builds there for the Empire for taking them, and more so at Tarkin for daring to bring this up.  

 You don’t answer. Tarkin hits you across the face. “Are you deaf? I asked you-”

 Burning rage on the other side of the door. Coldness. Vader sweeps in, crushes the droid, and jabs a finger into Tarkin’s chest.

 “I did not authorize this. I do not care you’re rank, leave my presence immediately or you will die.”

 Tarkin clenches his fists and teeth, but leaves.

 Vader turns to you, but does not say anything.

 “Why?” You say suddenly. “Why do you care if I get tortured or not?”

 “We need you alive,” Vader says. “And if you hadn’t been so stubborn like you always were I wouldn’t have to had stop Tarkin.”

Confusion clouds your brain. You narrow your eyes. “How would you know I was stubborn?”

"The Separatist Alliance reports you as being stubborn,  and never answering the simplest of questions no matter the consequence.“ He stops you before you can ask anything else about it. "Any requests?”

"Yes,“ you say. "Kill me.”

"What?“ Vader snaps. A tremor of rage ripples the water of the Force.

"Everyone I love is dead, okay? The Empire took them from me and I don’t want to be without them anymore. So please, kill me.”

"Jedi aren’t allowed to love.“

"We did. And I loved Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala more than anything else in this wretched galaxy and they’re gone. I - I wasn’t there to save them and-” You stop yourself before you can go on. Then you shake your head. “Fuck, I’ve got nothing to hide. She was pregnant, okay? But we could never raise them because they’re. All. Dead.” You sob.

 Vader just stares at you. Then, he lifts his helmet from his head.

 Yellow eyes. Brown, wavy hair that comes down to his shoulders. A scar over his eye.

 Before you stands Anakin Skywalker.

 You scream, then everything goes black.

[my-rose-garden-dreams]

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

My first fan fiction. Isn’t this exciting? This is a little French Revolution AU for Robron that @wycombewanderer and I worked on. I say little it’s just under 1500 words so I mean…

Anyway, go check out the moodboard @wycombewanderer made because 10/10 they always are.

I don’t know if there’s any warnings but maybe brief mention of prostitution but not explicitly stated, fire and death? but no major character death I didn’t want to make myself cry.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Aaron Dingle had no sympathy for them. The stupide chic. The selfish creatures that wore fancy wigs and rotted their skin with lead makeup, using this to justify their refusal to pay taxes. While they lived in luxury the Parisan peasants paid for the wars they had caused. Aaron Dingle was sick of it. How dare they mistreat the overwhelming majority of France? Believing they were above everyone else. Therefore, it came as no surprise to Aaron when the revolution began.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Duc Robert Sugden lived in luxury. Sure it was no palace of Versailles but it would do. The white walls of the outside of his manor pristine despite the hundreds of years the manor had stood, the large black gates with intricate patterns designed to keep the mobs out that recently begun to gain power. You see, the rumours of duc Sugden were not kind. The great nobleman had been said to have murdered his own brother’s wife after a 10 year feud between the two. The brother is question was said to have gone mad and lived his life as a recluse. However, this could be further from the truth. Facts in the matter were that duc Sugden never left his house, so of course rumours surfaced. As for his brother and his wife, Robert had had no word of them in two years due to no fault of his own. Robert was one of the few to pay his share of taxes, though not as much as the peasants granted. He had always had a distaste in the way his country was ran. The situation was grossly unjust. As a shock to many, Robert was also not surprised when a revolution broke out.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Aaron never planned to join the revolution. After all, he had his sister and mother to think about. How would they cope if he died storming a prison or in a bloody battle against the remaining members of the Royal French Army. Though he knew it was a good cause, he could not justify leaving his family. This all changed. The peak of the snowball effect for Aaron Dingle had been reached. What kind of man could not afford a measly piece of bread for his sister, peasant or not? Watching Olivia cry of hunger every night broke his heart more than any gun bayonet ever could. Watching his mother spend the night with men just so they had a roof over their head cut him deeper than any knife. Through no fault of his own, he was tipped over the edge.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

All he saw was darkness. The mob he had sympathised with seemed to have no mercy. His eyes were covered with a blindfold which he was almost certain was stained with blood. He could hear the cries of “viva la révolution” and between you and me, he couldn’t agree more. As he heard the yells of the mob, he wondered for a split second if his sister was there. Victoria had left her life as a feared and respected noble in order to marry the man she loved. Though Robert was not pleased, he hoped Adam Barton was keeping his young sister safe in the wake of the rebellion. He prayed to a God that seemed absent that Victoria was not only alive but would not witness her own brothers head spliced from his body by a guillotine.  

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

He’d never been here before. In a split second as the blonde haired noble stepped towards his death, Aaron questioned the beliefs and morals of the surrounding mob. Stood around a tall wooden platform, the mob seemed more excited for a public execution than they were for the many street battles that took place. Aaron felt sick to his stomach. The blonde man was the second to be beheaded that hour and Aaron wasn’t sure how much he could take. The yells around him were drowned out as the cries of Victoria Barton reached his ears. His best friend’s lover’s voice became clear in his ears as she broke down into the arms of her husband. You see, although Aaron had no sympathy for the nobility, he had heard many stories from Victoria herself on her brother and his kindness that few got to notice. In the seconds it took for Victoria to break down over the apparent death of her sibling, Aaron once again reached tipping point.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Robert prepared himself. If this was how he was going so be it. What was the point in crying within the blindfold if no one would care? All noise was drowned out as he concentrated on memories of his sister running around the field of the Sugden Manor at a young age. Memories of his father teaching him to shoot. Memories of Andrew and him arguing, but always knowing that the other cared dearly for the other despite what was said. Robert prepared himself for Death to grab his hand and walk him to the darkness.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Next thing the mob knew, the wooden platforms legs were on fire with the scorching flames growing higher and higher. It seemed there was no water around to extinguish the fire. What a shame Aaron thought. The executor and the mob fled from the surrounding area, abandoning the noble kneeling below the guillotines teeth.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Next thing Robert knew, he felt warmth all around him rapidly increasing in temperature. Great he thought. The yelling stopped and the area seemed to grow quiet. Despite the heat, Robert shivered at the thought of being burnt to death. As he felt hands on him, he wondered if Death was in fact and person and was throwing him towards the flames in an attempt to speed up the walk to the darkness.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Aaron quickly became aware that the great duc Sugden seemed to be in a trance. No matter how loud Aaron yelled over the roars of the flames, the great noble seemed to not hear a word. It was only when Aaron had dragged him far enough away from the flames and closer to Victoria that Robert seemed to snap alive at the sound of his sister’s voice. As the blonde soot covered man removed his blindfold, Aaron found himself staring into the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. For a moment Aaron found himself comparing this man’s appearance to that of his sister before dispelling them due to their, let’s be real, inappropriate nature. Much to Aaron’s shock, the blonde man seemed to collide his lips with Aaron’s in a gesture of thanks.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Oh crap, Robert thought. You see, in the eyes of Robert the man before him was otherworldly, the dark curly hair complemented the cold blue eyes staring back at him in annoyance. Before Robert could register what he was doing, he grabbed the man by his jaw line covered in the small beginnings of a beard and collided his with the younger mans. He did not register the gasp of his sister or the whistle from her idiotic husband. The man looked into Roberts’s eyes after pulling away and whispered his name before connecting their lips once again. Aaron. The name suited him. It was horrendously cliché to Robert, but he felt a spark that all his posh noble friends spoke about when justifying their large number of mistresses despite their wives. They seemed to kiss forever yet not long enough. And much to Robert’s surprise, Aaron felt the same way.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

You see, in the middle of a revolution, there’s no reason to do things in half. Therefore it was of no surprise when Robert joined the revolutionaries. Or when he met Aaron’s sister and mother and declared his love to Aaron in a field of daisies on the suburb of Paris. When Andrew appeared, it was a surprise at first but of course his brother had joined the revolution and that was the reason he had not heard from him, so really he shouldn’t have been surprised. What surprised Aaron was the way this grand noble with disturbing rumours tainting his name composed himself. It almost made him question the morale of the revolution until Robert spoke to him late at night of the horrendous acts fellow nobles had committed. He was also surprised at how happy he was around one of the men he felt no sympathy towards.

They may not have achieved liberté, égalité, fraternité yet. But for the time being they had each other, and that would do.

I hope you liked. Like I said it’s my first fanfiction so it might not be any good but either way meh hope it’s enjoyed.

[queenieskamander]

Killjoys, make some noise -Ch.2

Gang/post-apo!AU (requested)  

Member: Jimin (mention of other members)  

Genre: Fluff. Smut, a little bit of everything…

Sumarry: This AU is based around the lives of the “Killjoys”, a group of rebellious rogues living in a post-apocalyptic Seoul. The Killjoys are a group of outlaws who are fighting against the evil corporation Better Living Industries (BL/ind.) and its various “Draculoids” and executors, such as Korse.

Prologue    Ch.1 

It is a time to start a new life

Jimin’s p.o.v

I was awakened by a loud noise, something like a school bell. After a while I heard a very familiar female voice.   -Hey, wake up! You have one hour to get ready. Your first class is in the hall downstairs. Come one!!- She said briskly I opened my eyes, muttering something. I got up slowly, looking around me. My room wasn’t very big, but bright and clean. Just enough space for two people.   Jungkook dragged himself from his bed, tiresomely opening his suitcase and taking some clothes from it. -Im going first to the bathroom, ok?- He wasn’t really waiting for me to answer. I brushed my hair with my fingers, making even bigger mess on my head. I went to the window, pulling the blinds. I opened the balcony door and I went outside. I felt dry and crispy air. I leaned against the railing, looking at view in front of me. Maybe we were on the desert, but there were a lot of plants (trees, flowers, shrubs, grass). My eyes caught disputes pool and sunbeds,tables with chairs, large stone grill around it. However, there was a designated area for volleyball and football. It felt like a holiday resort by the sea. On the left and on the right side stretched balconies. Tae and Y/N had a room on the right side from us.   -Jimin, we must go now. We still need to eat something.- My brother said with a big smile on his face. Its not like I need to go to bathroom too… It is a Time to start a new life All ‘students’ were standing next to a big doors. We hoped that we came to the right place. Nobody here was  eager to explain anything to us . Exactly when the clock struck nine, the door opened. We saw a well known blond lady, she was wearing bright pink t-shirt and ripped, skinny jeans.   -Hello, you can come inside- She said happily as she went straight to her desk- First of all, you have to choose a partner with whom you will be sit- she continued- BUT, You cant sit with you room-mate- class became quite again- Stop looking at me like than, you need know each other better. Come one, I do not have all day- I looked around me How Im going to choose a partner when I dont know people here… -Jungkook…   -Tea…- Great, even my brother found partner. Wait…How could I forgot about Taehyung and his sister?   -Hey Jimin, do you want to be my partner?- That voice…so beautiful… It took me a while to realized that was Y/N. -Yeah…Sure-  Just dont do anything stupid -Great- did she just smirked at me? -Hello everybody- Stella said to us, again…- My name is Toxic Poison- Everybody were surprised, including me- And no, this is not my real name. This is a nickname- no shit Sherlock- You need to choose a nickname for you. You must forget you real name- She looked at us sternly. No one dared to speak. She wasn’t joking. -For your safety, and for safety of you family -How forgetting our name is going to help?- The girl with dark-red hair asked shyly. From what I associate, her name was Minji. Shit. We have to forget our names -Better Living is dangerous place, but government is even more dangerous- Toxic Poison explained, walking around us.Everybody were looking at her- If they will find out your identity,they might arrest your families or…even kill them-  She stopped for a second- Thats why you need your nicknames. Something short and catchy, easy to remember. Understood? - Everybody were quite, listening her carefully- I asked about something. Understood? -Yes!!- Everybody said at the same time. 90% of people here, looked like a typical punks. Born to fight against government. -Good…tomorrow, you have to come in with you new name-She looked around the room with warmer look that before.-And now, please tell me…How do you understand words ‘Art is weapon’?-   Art is weapon? I thought. Suddenly I remembered that I saw this slogan over the main entrance. I raised my hand shyly, feeling the startled eyes of Stella and a few other people. -Yes?- -I think…word 'weapon’ is a…a metaphor.- I said slowly- Better living have their 'perfect system’, exactly how they want. Everything is monotonous. Even their uniforms are the same.  They are white without any dirt on it. Art is an opposite of it. Expressing of your feelings, using your imagination, do not caring about the opinion of others…- I shrugged my shoulders-  It might be use an a weapon against BL. At least I think so. -  Toxic smiled and me widely -Thats right Jimin- I looked at her with a surprise- What? You should believe in yourself more- She laughed- Coming back to the art, thats why we asked you to bring with you things related to arts…Please develop your skills in your free time. You have to have a lot of imagination to fight against the Better Living. -So we are going to fight?- Boy with green hair asked, narrowing his eyes -Some of you…yes- Toxic said looking at all of us- We will selecting you according to your your results, performance and behavior. I should take couple of weeks. Exercises, theoretical lessons, practical lessons…- We all straightened up, hearing about the “practical lessons.” The girl with dark blue hair raised her hand -Yes?- -why were we chosen?- that was a good question. I was thinking about it couple of times-First of all, we were looking for teenagers which could come here without arousing suspicion- Toxic immediately explained. I think she was ready to give an answer to every question- But  we could take everybody. I know i might sound weird, but we know about you more that you can expect- She smiled mysteriously and I felt anxiety.- We looked also at your assessment and behaviour, but in the school they have a different appreciation than here. We need a rebellious people who want to re-build the old system and who are not afraid of danger. -Apparently we will have here a normal lessons here- said the blue haired boy, probably Brandon. - If I will  have insufficient assessment of maths, you are going to punish me by making me to write 100 times 'I will be a better student’?- he mocked. Toxic did not seem to be  surprise about his comment. -No, it would be a waste of time. You wont write a single word. - she said, smiling at him- The punishment for unacceptable behaviour, or very bad academic results will be, for example…-she wondered- Taking away a laser gun, ban on driving, ban going out on a mission…- She began to exchange. All were silent, looking at her. Her coral lips twitched into a smile again. -Before I will let you go, I want to raise another topic concerning art. Jimin come here.- She looked in my direction. Surprised, I got up from the place and went to her, standing in front of all gathered.- This clothes- She pointed at my black clothes- Are unaccepted -Excuse me?- I asked, slightly confused. Why she is doing this to me… -'Art is a weapon’, Jimin- She said slowly and distinctly, later bursting into laughter.- You have to be dressed colourfully. I hope this is note a problem for you-We all looked at each other smiling foolishly-We have a few types of hair dyes, some different materials, sewing machines. You will find something for you. The basics are explained, the rest of the day you have free. If you have questions, come to me. In the meantime, look around the centre. Of course you can enjoy all the attractions: swimming, volleyball, football, everything what you will find. The whole area is at your disposal. You can go now.- People started to get up from their places- I’ll see you tomorrow, in front of the main entrance, also at nine. Your homework is to work on the style and come up with a nickname- She smiled at us widely- Have a nice day, Killjoys.-What do you think about all of it?- Y/N asked few hours later, when we were all sitting in the canteen, lazily taking food out of cans.  BL controlled even what we were eating. Idiots.- These guns sound … wow. Amazing…- She said appreciatively. Some hair agreed with her, nodding. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs. -I don’t know..- I said doubtfully- Guns … I do not think they give us real guns…- - And why not?- Brandon asked, looking at me like an idiot.- We have to fight with them. We are not going to beat them by showing them our drawing or playing guitar- He laughed           -Stop- I snapped- You would be able to kill a man? -Draculoids are not people, and you know that- Tae said- But I agree with you, it is easy to kill anyone. -It sounds to me more and more like a fucking, suicide mission- I heard Kookie who was sitting next to Taehyung- The longer im here, the more I gain certainty that he would never return home. -You are right…- Minji murmured- Better Living probably soon will know all about us and…they might kill us…Thats got it will end- She throw her legs on the table- But I’m staying here anyway- She said with determined voice- I have no home to go back. They killed my family… -Minji…- Y/N spoke gently, after a while of silence. -Shhhh, I just want you to know that Better Living kills people- She looked at us seriously  and then he stared at me- So yes, Jimin, I think I’d be able to kill Draculoid -If you put it that way…-I murmured -YESSS!!!- Eunji scream with Joohyun- We will Destroy Better Living, they have no chance with us!! Will kill Korse? -YESS!!!- Everybody were busy screaming some random slogan. Only me and Y/N we quiet.  

Should I continue this story?

[yasbxxgie]

James Baldwin’s Archive, Long Hidden, Comes (Mostly) Into View

James Baldwin died in 1987, but his moment is now. His books are flying off the shelves. He has inspired homages like Raoul Peck’s documentary “I Am Not Your Negro” and Ta-Nehisi Coates’s memoir “Between the World and Me.” Baldwin’s prophetic essays on race read like today’s news.

And yet a full understanding of this pioneering gay African-American artist remains elusive. While Baldwin’s books are in print, there’s one revealing work that admirers long to read but have mostly been unable to: his letters.

The Baldwin estate has held tight to hundreds in its possession, letting only a few scholars see them. It has almost never allowed any of Baldwin’s correspondence to be published, or given biographers permission to quote a single word.

Now, Baldwin’s papers have landed in one of the nation’s leading archival institutions, the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, a division of the New York Public Library, in Harlem. But, in a striking twist, many of his personal letters will remain off limits for another generation — a byproduct of complicated negotiations between the library and the estate, and a reminder that family members are not always comfortable with the spotlight’s falling on a loved one, even decades after death.

The acquisition is a well-timed coup for the Schomburg, which announced the surprise news at a event there on Wednesday night. It’s also a kind of homecoming for Baldwin, a preacher’s son who grew up not far from the center’s landmark building on Malcolm X Boulevard.

“Even though it’s taken 30 years, it’s the perfect time,” Kevin Young, who became the director of the Schomburg in December, said in an interview. “It’s like he never left.”

The archive — the bulk of which is open to researchers immediately — contains a wealth of manuscripts, drafts and notes relating to Baldwin’s sprawling output, most of which have rarely been seen by scholars. There are also letters from luminaries including Lorraine Hansberry, Nina Simone, Bobby Seale, William Styron and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, a testament to the sociability of a man who seemed to go everywhere, and know everyone.

Still, Baldwin’s correspondence with four of his closest intimates is under 20-year seal, part of a set of restrictions that suggest that his famously protective estate is not quite ready for the world to see the private Baldwin in full. Those confidants include Baldwin’s brother David and three lifelong friends, among them Lucien Happersberger, a bisexual Swiss painter Baldwin once called “the one true love story of my life.”

William Kelly, the New York Public Library’s director of research libraries, described the restrictions, including the seal on roughly half the personal correspondence in the archive, as complicated but “fairly modest.”

“There’s always a balance in guaranteeing access for scholars, while at the same time being sensitive to the family,” Mr. Kelly said. (Gloria Karefa-Smart, Baldwin’s sister and executor, declined through the library to be interviewed for this article.)

Other limitations — like a seven-year waiting period on any public display of all but a handful of items — seem puzzlingly out of step with current trends at archives, which tend to make as much freely available and visible online as copyright will allow. (The library also declined to let The New York Times photograph anything beyond eight items the estate had approved for display.)

But Mr. Kelly said the restrictions were outweighed by the sheer richness of the archive, which sheds light on how Baldwin navigated different aspects of his identity — gay, African-American, political, artistic.

“I was dazzled by it,” he said, referring to the collection.

The library declined to disclose the purchase price, which was paid with donations from the Ford Foundation, the Knight Foundation, New York Life and three individual donors. (One donor, Mr. Kelly said, contributed the last $500,000.)

For its money, the Schomburg got some 70 boxes of material — about 30 linear feet, in archivist-speak. It spans the full range of Baldwin’s career, from typescripts of his teenage poetry to handwritten drafts of “The Welcome Table,” his final, unfinished play about an imaginary dinner party featuring an ex-Black Panther, a professor and a Josephine Baker-like dancer. (It was inspired by visits Baker made to Baldwin’s house in the South of France, where he spent the last decades of his life.)

“He went where his muse went,” said Steven G. Fullwood, the Schomburg’s associate curator of manuscripts, archives and rare books. “He was always questioning himself and the world.”

The eight preapproved items from the collection will be on view through Monday, in a small pop-up exhibition. When I visited the Schomburg earlier this month, archivists had laid out a much larger selection that spoke to the archive’s range and depth.

There was a typescript of unpublished notes on Beauford Delaney, a gay African-American painter whom Baldwin met at the age of 15 and came to see as his “spiritual father.” It was from Delaney that he learned about “the light contained in every thing, in every surface, in every face,” Baldwin wrote. (Correspondence with Delaney is covered by the 20-year seal.) One folder held an unproduced play script based on “Giovanni’s Room,” Baldwin’s once-shocking 1956 novel about an American expatriate in France, torn between his love for a man and societal pressure to marry. (The novel was dedicated to Happersberger.)

There were character notes for his novel “Just Above My Head” (1979), scrawled on a card for a jazz club, and a draft of an unproduced screenplay about Malcolm X, written out longhand in an orange notebook labeled “Homework.”

There were also clarion blasts of the prophetic Baldwin, like an unpublished 1978 note recalling the day 10 years earlier when he had learned that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated.

“Ten years! The mind and the heart refuse that knowledge,” Baldwin wrote. “I really feel, as I write this now, the same, unbelieving wonder, the same shocked and helpless rage.”

That passage echoes a scene in the new documentary “I Am Not Your Negro,” which was based on notes for “Remember This House,” a book about King, Malcolm X and Medgar Evers that Baldwin planned but never wrote. In a recent essay, Mr. Peck, who said he gained full access to Baldwin’s papers, recalled the eureka moment when Ms. Karefa-Smart handed them to him. (Those notes, now at the Schomburg, are sealed for 10 years.)

But for others, the real buried treasure is the correspondence. In 2007, the critic Hilton Als wrote that there was “one great Baldwin masterpiece waiting to be published, one composed in an atmosphere of focused intimacy, and that is a volume of his letters, letters his family does not want published.”

One person who has seen some of the most intimate letters is Ed Pavlic, a poet and professor at the University of Georgia. In 2010, Ms. Karefa-Smart gave him access to some 120 letters from Baldwin to their brother David, written over the course of 40 years and totaling some 70,000 words.

Ms. Karefa-Smart suggested that Mr. Pavlic try to find a book in them. But when he sent her a manuscript and asked for permission to quote, Mr. Pavlic said, he got no response and was unable to publish it.

Mr. Pavlic, who has written about his experiences with the letters, said the lack of access to Baldwin’s correspondence had made it difficult for scholars to make full sense of — or even create an accurate record of — a life spent constantly on the move. And the letters he saw, far from damaging Baldwin’s reputation, would burnish it, he said.

“The private record, for me, just amplifies and confirms and makes more dramatic the public messages he was out to convey,” he said.

In addition to David Baldwin and Happersberger and Delaney, the 20-year seal also covers Baldwin’s correspondence with Mary Painter, a longtime friend to whom he dedicated his 1962 novel, “Another Country.” Oddly, some of Baldwin’s letters to these intimates (who are all dead) are accessible in other archives, like the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library at Yale, which has even posted some of its Baldwin collection online.

As for the restrictions at the Schomburg, Mr. Young emphasized that a vast majority of the collection was open for on-site research, and that the rest would be available “in due time.”

“I take the long view,” he said. “Archives move by decades and generations. We’re here to keep it forever.” [h/t]

Correction: April 12, 2017 An earlier version of this article misstated the setting for the Schomburg’s announcement about acquiring the Baldwin archive. It was a celebratory event, not an 85th anniversary gala.

Photographs:

James Baldwin in 1964, attending the opening of his play “Blues for Mister Charlie” in New York

A page from “The Amen Corner,” a three-act play by James Baldwin, part of his personal papers that are now at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture

A page from Baldwin’s essay “Notes on Beauford Delaney,” now at the Schomburg Center in Harlem

James Baldwin’s handwritten notes for the novel “Just Above My Head,” now at the Schomburg Center

Pages from “On Martin Luther King,” a two-page essay by Baldwin, also at the Schomburg Center