#the leader can’t even comfort them with their hands chained high up

[whump-galaxy]

The leader never expected the team to come looking for them. They hoped the others would get as far away as possible, continue the mission without them. They hated being wrong.

They hated being wrong in the worst possible way, when their teammate’s mutilated, unconscious bodies are dropped at their feet.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 5: Pinned Down

Read on Ao3

- Sky & the Chain

- Summary: in the depths of a cave, Sky encounters a deadhand

CW for allusions to claustrophobia and blood and injury

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

Sky can’t say he particularly likes caves. The one on Skyloft had intrigued him as a child, to be sure. But stepping inside of its constraining walls, stumbling and falling in near-darkness, praying that he won’t be attacked by a keese or chu…that is an experience he will never forget.

The ones on the surface are even worse. The surface air already presses down on him (he wonders if he’ll ever grow accustomed to it.) But inside the caves it is nearly suffocating. It only adds to their stifling feel, closing around him like a vice.

And now, as the door slams shut behind him, caging him and the other heroes in gloom he decides that he doesn’t just dislike them. He hates them.

He and his brothers had entered the cave earlier this morning. A nearby town had reported that a monster had made its home there and the heroes had decided to look into it. Which had led them here to this tiny room…where arms stick grotesquely out of the floor.

Sky takes an unconscious step back and bumps into the barred door. An unnatural horror creeps through him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Slowly, he draws the Master Sword.

Its glow is a comfort, but only slight.

“What in Hylia’s name is that?” Wild asks. He stands beside Sky with his own weapon in hand and a look of disgust on his face.

“A deadhand.”

Their leader answers in a voice that lends no reassurance. His tone is steady and cool, but Sky can detect the fear hovering just past it.

He swallows, hard.

“And what, pray tell, is that?” Legend inquires, snappishly. His discomfort is plain to see, even past his front of annoyance.

Time unsheathes his sword in one swift motion. Though his face is hidden from view, Sky can see the tension in the way he holds himself, hear the catch in his breath when he speaks.

“A terrible monster that burrows beneath the ground to await its victims.” He turns now, skewering his companions with a piercing glare. “Do not let it grab you.”

“So,” Hyrule says, slowly, “how do we kill it?”

A grim smirk lifts Time’s lips. “You can either walk right into its clutches and hope you can squirm away before it removes your head from your shoulders,” — Twilight's eyes go wide — “or you can do this.”

He produces a small, circular object from his pouch and holds it up to his eye.

“Hey, that's cool! What is it?” Wind pipes up, but Warriors shushes him.

“I’ll tell you later, sailor.”

Time remains still for a moment, studying the ground. Sky leans forward, peering at the spot, trying to see what he sees. But the ground appears empty.

…except for the horrifying arms sticking out of it, of course.

Then, the older hero draws a bomb out of his pouch. Bending, he sends it into a gentle roll. It slows around the middle of the room and tips over. Its fuse begins to spark.

“Prepare yourselves,” he says. “When it shows itself, aim for the head.”

Sky shifts, his grip on the sword tightening. The tension in the room makes the atmosphere even more oppressive and he struggles to breathe through it.

But the sound of the bomb going off shatters it. And in the next moment, something large and white and horrifying erupts from the ground and Sky can focus on nothing else.

It turns its long neck, angling itself to face the heroes. Grinning at them with massive, crimson-tinged teeth, it begins to move its gelatinous form forward.

Time lunges for it, sword held high, and the other heroes quickly follow suit. But even as he moves, more arms emerge. He cuts them down with a swift, horizontal swipe and then lifts his weapon, ready to cleave through the deadhand’s skull. Multiple others erupt in front of him, though, and he is forced to leap back. He only just evades their grasping fingers.

“Are these things supposed to have this many arms?” Wild asks as he fights his way through some that have come up around him. 

Time lets out a grunt of frustration and exertion as he slashes at the offending arms. 

“These monsters have infinite limbs. Neglect to kill them quickly and they regenerate. But no, they don’t normally have quite this many. There may be a second one still hiding.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” Legend snarks. 

Sky can’t help but agree with him. He casts a glance down to the ground beneath his feet, praying the second monster isn’t lying in wait there. 

“Can anyone reach this one’s head?” Four asks. “If we cut it down, I’m guessing these arms will retract. Is that right, old man?”

Time nods, just barely dodging another claw-like hand.

Sky takes a deep breath, forcing the idea of the other monster from his mind. “I can reach it.”

He raises his sword, waits for the telltale zip of power, then frees the beam. It soars toward the deadhand’s head. But at the last moment another arm shoots upward like a gory plant and absorbs the hit.

The monster turns toward him with more speed than Sky would ever have imagined it possessing. He grits his teeth, steeling himself. He raises the sword again.

“Sky! Look out!” 

The sailor’s shout is just a moment too late. A new bunch of limbs erupt around the Skyloftian like a morbid cage. Eyes widening, panic streaking through him, he tries to cut them down. But they are too fast.

They snake outward, dagger-thin fingers clamping onto him like vices. They curl around his neck, his arms, his legs and waist. He chokes on the rancid air he can no longer inhale. The Master Sword clatters to the ground. 

“Hold on, Sky, we’re coming!” 

The sounds of the struggle surrounding him fill his ears, yet Sky hardly hears it. He fights desperately. But his efforts are useless. Hands continue to come, grabbing at his face, dragging fingernails across his scalp, tightening around his body. 

And then, the second monster appears. He rises from the ground only a few feet from him, enormous mouth already beginning to open.

Sky chokes on a mouthful of tears and blood. Already the world has begun to take on a grayish tinge. Unconsciousness is coming fast, heralded by the tightening of the hands around his neck. But not fast enough to block out the sight of the deadhand.

It is inches from him now. Sky drags in short, fast breaths that garner him no air. His heart thunders in his chest, every beat reverberating throughout his body. He is smothered by his unearthly bonds; by the walls that press close on every side; by the terrible, inescapable stench of death and decay. 

Desperately, he tries to reach for his fallen sword. But the hands constrict further, as though they know what he is attempting to do. For a split second his vision bleeds white, ears filled with a ringing and rushing that sets his stomach churning. And when it clears the monster is right in front of him. 

He has mere seconds to steel himself for what is about to come. 

The gaping maw is all he can see now, a dark chasm filled with yellowish teeth that drip with blood. 

How long has it been since this thing last devoured someone? He wonders, distantly. Who was the unlucky soul who suffered such a fate?

Terrified as he is, he can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for them. 

But just as quickly as it comes, it is gone, replaced by a vice-like panic. Because in the next moment, the deadhand’s mouth closes around his face.

Sky goes rigid, a strangled scream breaking free of his constricted throat. Pain explodes across his face. The smell of blood and death and centuries-old decay fill his nostrils, smothering him. He chokes on it. 

He can feel his own blood trickling down, now, from the places the deadhand’s teeth have sunk into. It stings his eyes, cascades past his lips. The sickly taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue. 

Sky has seen sinister creatures on the surface — grinning bokoblins and leering moblins, chasing him with their clubs and swords, eager to bring him down. But never before has he been prey to one like this. 

It moves closer, ravenous for human blood and flesh, fingernails penetrating deep into his skin, hold continuing to tighten until Sky is certain his bones will break. 

Desperately he tries to thrash, gulping gasps of rancid air that never make it to his lungs. His fingers stretch outward, trying once more to pull the Master Sword to him. But she doesn’t budge. 

Tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with blood and dirt. He is suffocated by agony and terror. This is so different from the sky, where everything is fresh and cool and free. Where the biggest threat are the octoroks he and Zelda used to plow through with ease. 

Down here, there is no air, no safety, no escape. There is only darkness and gloom and whatever horrors may hide within it.

Oh, how he misses the sky.

“-ky, Sky! Hang on!”

Hang on. He can do that, can’t he? Yeah, he can…he…

Another breath catches in his throat. A nauseating crunch sounds from far away. Pain rockets through him so fast he nearly blacks out. But through the darkness that crowds his vision is the tiniest bit of light. He clutches it with every bit of his remaining strength.

And in the next moment, he is free. 

There is a terrible jolt that sends shockwaves through his aching form. Then an unearthly scream fills his ears, as the monster finally disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

The arms go with it and Sky crumples without their hold. But Time is there to catch him before he hits the ground. He cradles the Skyloftian to his chest and Sky blinks dazedly up at him.

“T-time?” He mumbles and the old man nods, eye sharp with worry. 

There are scratches carved along his face, their bloodied lines stark against his skin. Sky frowns, trying to find the words to ask if he is alright. But he can hardly manage to cling to consciousness, much less formulate a complete sentence. So, he settles instead for lifting a clumsy hand, trying to brush the blood off the old man’s cheek.

Time catches his hand before it makes it there, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t worry about me, Sky. Rest. You’re safe now. The monsters are gone.”

Sky blinks again, then nods. Gentle hands brush his face, turn his head slightly to inspect his wounds, and he lets them. Everything hurts and his lungs are on fire from too long without air. The stench of death still clings to him like a disease. 

He feels oddly light too, as though he is floating. Floating on waves of agony and an eternity of darkness. 

He drags in another breath, thankful at least that he can breathe once more.

“Is he okay?” Someone asks. Wind, Sky believes.

With an effort, he opens his mouth to reassure the sailor that he will be. But all that comes out is a rasping cough. It sends waves of pain through him and tears spark hot in the corners of his eyes. 

When at last, it ends, someone maneuvers his head up and tips a potion to his lips.

“Here, drink this.” It’s Warriors now. “It’ll help.”

“He’ll be okay, sailor,” Twilight is saying from far away. “We’ll patch him up.”

“And then we’re getting the heck out of this cave,” Legend says. “We took care of the monsters, yeah? There’s no need to stick around and see if they regenerate.”

A glimmer of hope alights within Sky, shining just past the haze he drifts in. And as the potion slides down his throat he does his best to swallow it all. He’ll do anything he can to make the healing process faster, so he can escape this place. 

It seems the others agree with him. Because once they have bandaged Sky and he is secure in Time’s arms (the old man had staunchly opposed his offers to walk, despite his assurances that the potion had greatly helped), they practically race through the cavernous hallways. Sky closes his eyes as they turn down paths that all look the same, blocking out the memories of his horrifying ordeal and waiting for the wonderful moment when the sunlight will fall on him once more.

He only reopens them when Wind cries, “hey, look! The exit!” And then they’re stepping out into the blinding light of day and he is gulping great mouthfuls of fresh air, staring bravely up at the sun, heedless of the way it makes his eyes tear up.

“Doing alright, Sky?” Time asks as he carefully sets the Skyloftian down beneath the shade of a large tree. They all need a short breather before setting out to find a good place to camp for the night.

Sky smiles up at him, reveling in the feel of grass beneath him. “I’m alright. But I would rather not explore any more caves for a while.”

Time chuckles. “I believe we can all agree with that sentiment.”

And sure enough, a chorus of assent erupts from the group. With a small chuckle of his own, Sky leans back against the tree and closes his eyes.

[charmante-mp3]

Devilish - Ch. II

-- Okok we're getting somewhere with this. I'll be straight up the more I write the less I like but, I do love a slowburn.

Warnings below; - This is a demon!Ateez x angel!reader (not for long however) so there is talk of religion. As an atheist I really don't refer to 'God' or Jesus but I do not mean any harm for religion. In this writing I do, however, use real religious names, that being said, this is purely fiction! - Also for confusion purposes, I do cut back and forth from present to future. If you see '~' that is currently what is happening, so be aware! - Finally, Hongjoong's kind of a bitch but he's allowed to be- --

(Severely unedited)

1.3k

Prologue <<prev.<< | >>next.>>

--

Heavy steps echoed through the halls, a slow pace set as he enjoyed the quiet. The ebony crown had rested itself on a neatly styled mass of black hair. A black cloth littered with chains covered his lower face, leaving only the harsh glare of his eyes visible. The footsteps were cut off as he stopped at a large door. As the door opened, a loud crash disrupted the silence, as well as a few obscenities.

“Yunho,” the man said, making his way through the doors. The taller male stopped in his place, looking down at his spilled plate of snacks. 

“Hongjoong, your highness, majesty even! Why are you up? Our new king should be resting properly before fully diving into his duties,” Yunho said, trying his best to hide the spilled plate. 

“Clean it up,” Hongjoong stated. His hands raised to his face, slipping the mask from his ears. His face looked soft, but the gaze of his eyes were demanding and intimidating.

“If you want to stress eat fine, but don’t do it five minutes before the meeting, now come on. It’s hard to round you all up and even harder to keep you from being idiots,” He finished, slipping the mask back on, and walking out the door. Slightly down the hall was his next destination. The doors were already open this time, six others stood around, different crowns held on each head. Soon Yunho followed, minutes before three unknown figures walked in. Just enough time for Yunho to throw on his final accessory. Same ebony colored crown, although a bit smaller than his leaders. Horns were now present on each member in the room, some similar, some different. 

“Ah, the new royal court, it’s such a pleasure,” The stranger's voice spoke, almost dripping with sarcasm. 

“Dagon, drop the false respect.” Hongjoong said as the other seven men circled their leader.

“Tell me why you’re here, I can’t say I have time for this,” Hongjoong had known this man his entire upbringing. He wouldn’t even dare to plan any alliance with a poor excuse of a demon.

“I’m sure you know exactly what I’m here to talk about, your majesty,”

~

Ye’un and I had been pushed in a room, the door locked from the outside. Kneeling at her side, I tried to heal her wounds. While it was a slow process, the warmth finally flowed through my hands, a yellow glow emerging from them. 

“My curiosity got the best of me didn’t it?” She coughed out. 

“Yes it did, how we’re not dead because of you is beyond me,” I said, slumping next to her. The room seemed to be a bedroom of sorts, unlike a gross jail cell. Both of us jumped at the sound of a booming voice. 

“Enough!” rumbled through the air, it was the voice of the man who got so close to me not even minutes ago. 

~

“That doesn’t sound like an answer dear,” The demon king's false comfort had been replaced with rage. His left hand, gloved yet had two fingers free from fabric, raised. My eyes snapped shut waiting for the sharp sting, yet it didn’t come. I opened my eyes only realizing he was just as confused. Instead of a harsh sensation colliding with my cheek, two of his unclothed fingers pressed to my forehead. Suddenly, a warmth filled my body, my wings ruffled in comfort and my eyes closed from glee rather than fear. The feeling was ripped from me and my senses came back, once again face to face with the demon king, yet he looked almost regretful.

“Comfortably escort them to the nearest quarters,” He said harshly to the men holding us. Finally, harsh grips loosened but haste was still a part of the picture. 

~

I could hear footsteps from outside the door, they were slow yet harsh. 

“Ah fuck,” A voice echoed on the other side, along with a dropping of keys. My ears ringed at the use of a forbidden word. The door opened cautiously, a head slowly pushed from behind the door. Even though his cloak was back and pushed over his head, I couldn’t help but notice the shine of yellow hair that slowly bled to orange. Even then, my attention stood on the horns peeking out from the hood. Adorning what the angels called, half horns. Rare among demons, even more rare was the light blue seeping from where the horns met his skin, only for them to fade back into a familiar black. I had been snapped out of my observation when I heard the door shut, also a clinging hand on my shoulder. 

“It’s- your-” Ye’un stuttered and shook next to me, I took in her horrified expression as it filled me with my own terror. He groaned, clearly annoyed, which was soon followed by a harsh plop on the floor closer to us. 

“Yeah, my name is Mingi, great descendant of Belphegor himself blah blah,” He muttered out. 

That’s not why I’m here, anyway you, my doll have waltzed yourself into a funny situation,” He said, making direct eye contact with me. My throat dried as I took in my surroundings, here I sat an angel in hell itself being calmly spoken to by the sin of acedia himself. Not only that, the demon king, a descendant of the most powerful demon that ever ruled this awful plain of existence, Azazel himself. Angels never even dare think of his name, yet here we were being spared, or they’re keeping us for something worse than death.  

“And what situation is that?” I finally spoke, attempting to swallow my fear, the quiver in my voice failing me. 

“I think it’s better if Hongjoong explained this one,” He said, getting up, his hand reaching out to me and yet I made no move to accept it. 

“She’s not going anywhere with you damned demons!” Ye’un jumped up at him, but he simply pushed her off of him. 

“Look if you want your friend here to make it out alive, come with me,” He demanded, his anger more pointed at Ye’un. 

“Fine,” I spoke, grabbing his hand. To my surprise, his grip on my hand was soft, almost as if he was afraid to hurt me. Ye’un was quickly back on her feet, mere seconds from launching herself at the demon again.

“Ye’un!” My voice said sharply, my tone held unfamiliar anger. The longer they held here me the more I could feel the sin creep through my veins.

“Let me handle this, I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice trembling knowing it would be a lie, accepting the fact the last thing I’d see of her would be a look of sorrow.

~

He led me through a course of long and dark halls, then we unexpectedly halted. I would’ve taken it as a moment to run back to Ye’un but the grasp on my hand stopped me.

“I almost didn’t think of it, but your wings wouldn’t be a good thing to have in the open,” He said. His hand left mine for a split second and I should’ve run. The opportunity is greater now than ever, yet I didn’t. I let him drape his own cloak over me, hiding my wings, and pulling the hood over my hair. Grabbing my hand once again, we kept moving through the dark corridors until I was led into a room. It was brighter than anything I’ve seen in this realm. Things were still mostly black, but it was also littered in gold. Soon my eyes caught thrones, more importantly, the people sitting in them. There were eight, the same men I was just kneeling under. My mind started racing again as I remembered the name Mingi spoke in the room with Ye’un. He is the sin of Sloth, one of the seven deadly sins, along with the demon king, his council. 

“My dear, take a seat you’ll need it.”  --

A/n: I might make a character sheet potentially but idk, it might ruin suspense.

[automeris-io-moth]

not sure if this is too specific, but can I request hero/villain where villain is a sadistic ruler and hero is the leader of a rebel faction ???

A mouse running in circles.

The door opened with a creak, light filtering through the small slit, ephemeral, for it was quickly closed right after, a precaution everyone had been smart enough to procure, even when Hero’s leg was tightly bound to one of the walls. 

“Oh my” exclaimed Villain, laughing at the sight of the beat-up Hero kneeling down on the floor, the reach of the chain not enough for them to stand up, forcing them to look up at villain, almost like a subject “I didn’t believe it when the they told me you were captured, I was certain they were only rumours, but my people know better than to lie to me.” 

Dangerous.

Villain was dangerous.

Hero wished they had notice it sooner, notice the glint in their eyes when they did harm, but nostalgia, yearning, was a hard thing to overcome, and in everything, in anything they did and said the habituality of Villain’s words made Hero cross it off as something harmless, as an innocent wish of power, conquering was, after all, the purpose of their soldiers, and one day both would be at the fronts.  

Being at the side of someone so ambitious was a privilege after all, Hero convinced themselves, they were to be victorious when old enough to travel with the army, together. 

Until they wouldn’t. When, still in their youth, Hero became an heir.

The heir of a burden. 

And a month after the death of their uncle, with their chin raised high, as they were taught, and their hands closed tight enough not to let them tremble at their sides, Hero was crowned. 

Running away was, then, tempting. Disguising themselves as a soldier, as a commoner.

The acts of a coward. 

So they bore the burden when it was laid upon them, they said farewell to their friend, to their dream, and watched them leave in a boat they had to bless before departing. 

And Hero ran when their friend could not judge them from afar. 

A letter was left in the throne room, neatly rolled up parchment closed with the official seal of the kingdom, pressed over black wax. 

Their friend, Villain, would make a fine ruler, they wrote, of royal blood still, even if from one of the lower houses, they were skipping a few hierarchy levels, but the word of the monarch was law, and so it was to happen.

Hero had been so naive. 

Villain sat themselves comfortably on a chair in front of Hero, looking down at them. 

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” then they said, grabbing Hero by the chin and lifting it up, harsher than needed “I haven’t seen you in years, a shame you hide your pretty face behind those ugly rags you wear.” 

Hero twisted their head to take it away from the other’s grasp. 

“You betrayed me,” Hero spat. “I trusted you with my people and look at what you've done.” 

Villain raised a brow, smirking as they laid back on the chair “The kingdom flourishes, technology and medicine never advanced faster, we’re the main producers of gems on the continent.” 

“And at whose expense?!” they bit back “My people starve!” 

“Our people,” Villain corrected, “will learn the rewards of hard work or they will be left behind.” 

“You’re not a monarch, you’re a rat, a power-hungry rat.” 

“And you’re a coward,” they stated, voice still calm through the provocations “a mouse, if you will, running away from what you owe these people and then blaming me for giving this nation what it needed.” 

Blame was a burden Hero knew very well. 

“But you can’t escape your destiny, you’re still a ruler,” Villain declared, sure of their words, in control of the room, and very aware of both facts “the ruler of a bunch of underdogs who will accomplish nothing.” 

Villain stood. 

“And for that you’re still a danger to the kingdom. You shall stay here, until we get the rest of the rebels, and after,” they added, grabbing their cheeks in one hand, twisting their face to face them, “you will return to your legitimate position, with me at the head, of course, that’ll settle whatever resistance is still left after.” 

_

Masterlist

I got to this request right after doing the Solder, Poet, King quiz and getting king when I wanted poet (like almost every single person I've seen doing it, honestly), so it's kinda (very much) inspired this on that concept, sorry.

I still hope you like it!

[sassenashsworld]

A chess game

He’s so nervous he could flee right here and now.

But the truth is, he’s always been nervous.

Born in Nordhagen Beach, he grew up under the guidance of a very authoritarian father and a very cold mother, both convinced he would not make it to adulthood. He was actually convinced from the beginning that he should already be dead.

Then the iron bird landed.

He remembers his first impression of the huge flying structure: it looked like a god flying over the mortal world.

It didn’t take him any more to escape in the middle of the night with the little possession he might have in order to join the association holding such a machine.

The Brotherhood of Steel

He remembers hearing about them. A very powerful association, actually, and he’s now a member.

Obey. It’s the most natural thing he could do. The only exchanges he had with his parents were barking orders. Nothing impresses him in the chain of command. In fact, he is so comfortable with it that he does not doubt for a moment that it is his destiny. For the rest, having his life threatened every day by what the BoS hates make their vision just fine with him.

He swallows everything; their morality with the rations. He eats, he drinks, he has a safe bed, he has a team, and he even has a superior who guides him every step of the way. It’s pure paradise.

And the essence of his paradise falls on him by chance.

He’s an avid chess player. Ironically, he learned from the most synth of all synths. Some kind of detective came at Nordhagen with this woman who just landed in the Commonwealth, the sole survivor. The two adventurers had spent some time at Nordhagen to help build new structures to accommodate new settlers and strengthen security. The synth with the funny hat and the worn trench had taught him to play. He had even taught him to play solo.

So, he was playing solo.

It didn’t take him long to realize that his barracks mates didn’t share his passion for the game. One or two tried, but it ended in long evenings alone with his board, playing against himself. And he doesn’t mind.

Hm. The Black Queen in A4: but it’s hard to do the split against himself...

As he focuses on the proper move, a hand clad in black leather appears in his field of vision and moves the White Knight to C3. Basic but effective maneuver.

He looks up to the newcomer to comment and is surprised.

The man is wearing a black fly suit. He’s a high commander. The young man can’t help but freeze when he sees the impressive scar slashing his face. As much as the serious look on his face.

"You weren’t seriously trying to check yourself in six?"

"No, but it’s a trick I love to play against others, so I always open with it. It allows me to quickly eliminate amateurs and not waste time playing against a fool. In addition, it gives parts mobility."

"Not a fan of V-shaped defense?"

"The best strategy is mobility." He replies stiffly.

"It makes sense."

The man sits on the bench in front of him. Without adding anything, the game begins. It stretches out late at night. A strategy on stairs, exits for rooms, and a great use of knights. When the youngster sees the eldest coming out with them, he feels that it’s the end of the game.

And in two strokes, he’s stuck.

"How…?"

"When you used the Great Roc, you went against your instincts, and it stuck your king. You stopped thinking at that moment, and I knew I had you.”

The young man lays down his king, they shake hands, and then the man gets up.

“Good night, recruit."

But the young man sits there. In his head, he replays the whole game and reviews everything that has been performed, including all the strategies used. What was done and what should have been done.

His superior even catches him sitting there in the morning.

His general attitude makes him well liked by all. Obedient for the leaders, discreet for the youths, and sometimes having a solution to allow dissidents to loosen up a bit, even if he doesn’t participate directly.

Loved by all.

His superior does not push him too much that day when he understands that the young person has slept little or not at all. Even if he asks him not to take the bad habit.

That evening, while everyone goes to bed, he sits down at his usual table, installs his chessboard, and gets ready to open the game.

The man comes to sit facing him. The young man turns the edge to give him the whites. The elder turns the board again, the whites on his side.

‘Whites open and win,” which he drops as a fact.

The Whites open and lose. The young man is disappointed when he puts his king to bed even if he calmly shakes the hand in front of him.

"You panicked when I stuck your troops in G and H. You must learn how to conduct close combat. On the ground, you might have to defend a confined position, and it would be a shame if it became a trap in which you died."

The man gets up, the young man stands in front of the board playing the game again in his head. This time, he goes back to his bed before the day, gives in to sleep and manages to get a few hours. But his dreams wedged him between two rows of black knights and aggressive towers.

The next day, he’s a little distracted. He obeys orders with the same eagerness, but he doesn’t listen to the conversations around as he reflects on his strategies. He must find a way to quickly get rid of his opponent’s tricks. And even his knights.

“… lin Danse. What do you think?”

“What?”

“Since he has been on board, he has prevented us from reaching the bridge. We could not drink a drop yesterday.”

“Hmm. In the front bridge. You can easily go down along the structure. The Paladin Danse stands guard mostly in the mess. You can climb back up the west walkway, Cade’s asleep at this hour.”

“You really are a prince!”

He pulls out the embarrassment by bowing his head. He receives a few pats in the back but focuses on his meal. And on the game he will play that evening.

At the same time, barely the last piece in place, the man shows up and takes his place. He positions the white board in front of the young man.

“Whites open… and win.” This time is a warning.

The youth do their best. They think through every movement. They’re not distracted by any threats. He opens, advances the front, keeps his mobility, puts a first knight out of play, and then tries to lure the H8 tower with two pawns and his knight.

Defeat is almost humiliating.

He lays his king down, shakes the hand, but his eyes remain on the board while he already replays the part in his head.

‘Eh recru.’

He looks up distractedly.

"When shaking hands, you must always stare your opponent in the eye. Always."

This time, the handshake is firm and the look well-anchored.

"See you tomorrow night."

He counts on it. He picks up the pieces and goes back to his bed. He doesn’t need the board to replay his game. Every shot is engraved in his brain.

The next night, he opens in stairs.

"You... you don’t set your queen free?"

The man seems almost astonished.

"You’ve already seen me use this strategy a few times. I don’t think I can pierce your defenses when you know my first eight moves by heart."

The man’s gaze shines briefly with a new respect and then a small nod to himself, as if in his head he confirmed what he doubted.

The game is much longer. Three steps forward, two back. The young are so concentrated that he feels his forehead soaked with sweat. He’s putting his life on the line. Each movement was carefully thought out as if it were his fellow barracks who put on the boots of the pawns and that every lost piece was a dead man.

The man before him also redoubled his effort and finally even made a mistake.

The young man looks up.

He stares at the man for a long time.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"You just laid out your king in three."

The man bends his head, observes, and then it’s barely perceptible. But it is for the young. Even if it’s barely a twinkle of the eyebrow, it’s a movement of surprise.

Then the gesture was not intentional. The error is indeed a mistake. The white madman checks in order to lead the king between a pawn and the tower. The king must eat the pawn, and then...

The man in front of him stretches out his hand and lays the black king down.

"Impressive." The officer comments. "Every man makes mistakes, but you wrote it down right away and knew immediately how to use it."

His handshake is firm, then he puts his other hand on the young one.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

"I was born in a settlement."

There is no need to say more. His shrug is not insolent. He points out one fact. If he hadn’t known how to use a weapon, he would have died.

"You will visit Captain Lancer Kells tomorrow morning. You will find him waiting for you."

The man gets up, and the young man puts his game away, not knowing what to think. He lies on his back in his layer and fixes the metal roof above his head.

"So Elder Maxson is impressed?" asks his closest roommate.

"Elder Maxson?!"

He is confused.

"Yeah, the big guy. Ah, but it’s true, your introductory speech is only next week! So, all this time, you didn’t know you were playing with Elder Maxson?"

The voice is stuck in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Yes, he didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

[dontthrowsticksatme]

Life at Victoria Road five

Pairing: Drarry

Rating: T

Word count: 64k

Summary:

With nowhere else to go, a washed-up Harry Potter crashes on Draco Malfoy’s couch, disrupting the domestic life at this fresh dad’s two-bedroom, Muggle walk-up. From his spot on the couch, Harry watches Draco navigate the wonders of fatherhood. Draco, meanwhile, struggles to understand his urge to take care of his former enemy (it must be the paternal instinct).

(Note: this is not an addiction recovery fic. There is an addiction recovery side plot, but I don't know enough to do it justice.)

Read on AO3

Excerpt under the cut :)

Excerpt (960 words):

As Malfoy had promised, the three of them went shopping after breakfast. Scorpius got tucked into Malfoy’s vintage, baby blue pram, and Harry had to shiver in his ragged denim jacket, hunched in the autumn chill, feeling fragile. His head and his muscles still hurt. These days, his head and his muscles always hurt. He squinted against the bright, October sunshine.

Malfoy was whistling to keep the baby entertained. It was a mystery how he'd survived each time they went out, as he only had eyes for the kid instead of their surroundings. It seemed like he intuitively sensed traffic lights and stopped for them without looking. It wasn’t possible, but Harry couldn’t see Malfoy looking up at any point.

‘Potter is an ugly fart,’ Malfoy sang softly to the kid. ‘He makes rock bottom look like art. Remember not to break his heart, or he will surely fall apart. That’s why we all sing: Potter’s an ugly fart.’

‘That makes no sense,’ Harry pointed out, pressing the button for the traffic lights a few more times.

‘Potter looks like he’s in pain,’ Malfoy sang on. ‘That’s because he is insane. Better put him on a train, or on a chain, or he will make us all feel pain.’

Harry sighed.

Malfoy sniggered. ‘You used to get angry.’ He draped himself over the pram to leer at Harry. ‘When I insulted you.’ He seemed entirely comfortable in his tight, woollen jacket, buttoned up over a thin, baby blue sweater that was clearly carefully selected to complement his skin tone and eyes, perhaps even the pram.

‘Yeah…’

Malfoy smirked. Looking around at the blue sky and the orange tops of the trees, he simpered, ‘You missed me, didn’t you?’

The traffic lights turned green, so they walked. ‘Madly,’ grumbled Harry, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and kicking at a flattened coke can.

Malfoy laughed.

When they reached the other side of the road, Malfoy pushed the pram ahead of them. They strolled over to it and he pushed it again. ‘Such a bore, this pram... Imagine if it could fly. If Scorpius could fly around us at his own pace and look at everything around him, not just the stupid sky. Hello, baby!’ Malfoy had reached the pram again and bent over the side to press a kiss at Scorpius’ head. ‘Oh, aren’t you an ugly little fellow! You can’t do shit, can you? No! You can’t!’ Malfoy laughed and wearily pulled the pram behind him as if he were the teenager cleaning up the shopping carts at the local supermarket.

Harry decided to take over the pushing of the pram.

Malfoy immediately took his cue to walk ahead of them, straight-backed like a parade leader. ‘Potter shouldn’t be outside,’ he started chanting again. ‘The last time, all the babies cried. They cried and cried till past Yuletide.’ Malfoy jumped up to break off a branch of a tree and swung it around like it was a baton. ‘Tell the people far and wide, that Potter is out and ready to fight.’ At that last word, he unexpectedly lashed out at Harry with the stick. At least, he tried to, but Harry caught the stick and yanked it out of Malfoy’s hands, and Malfoy promptly covered his head, screaming.

It made Harry laugh.

Malfoy hipped over to Harry and grabbed the stick from him. Harry allowed it.

‘Have you breathed in properly, Potter?’ Malfoy demonstrated breathing deeply in and out a few times. ‘How nice it is – Oh Merlin!’ He froze in front of a shop window, voice high in panic.

‘What?’ Harry whirled around, flicking out his wand. ‘What?’

‘My hair is such a mess.’ As he checked himself in the reflection of the shop window, Malfoy pulled at strands of his white blonde hair, which had indeed grown to be quite long; Harry kept seeing him pushing and blowing it away from his face.

With a sigh, Malfoy resumed walking. Harry had trouble shifting gears and had only just come to a halt with the pram, but Malfoy didn’t care.

‘I really need a haircut, you know, but the last time I tried, that menace over there wouldn’t stop crying. I had to just go home after they had only just washed it. It was awful.’ He slowed down so he could tickle Scorpius’ belly. ‘Yes, I’m talking about you, you little loudmouth. You’re the reason daddy looks like Lady Diana, aren’t you?’

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at this. ‘That’s an awful thing to say! Princess Di was beautiful.’

Malfoy made an indignant sound as he straightened up to scowl at him, and sniffily took the pram back. Harry sniggered.

They passed a fruit and vegetable store that had most of the pavement covered in crates of fruit. On the corner, a small, green shop sold cigars; Harry didn’t even know that was still a thing. On the other side of the road, an all pink hairdresser – pink awning, pink sign, pink frames – had faded to blue-and-white pictures of hair models up in the windows. Nobody in the street seemed to be in a hurry. A few guys were sitting in plastic lawn chairs, watching the passersby, and further down the road two women were chatting on the corner of a street, one of them with a dog.

Harry liked it. The regularity of it all.

It had been a long time since he’d been shopping, sober and clean. Or that he'd been out and about before noon.

The morning sun worked hard to shine through the overcast sky. On the beech trees around them, the green-and-yellow leaves rustled in the breeze. The smell of autumn daybreak hung in the air and Harry felt like he was skipping school.

[luimagines]

Hey, I’m not sure how to explain this but getting straight to the point, I’m the person who runs the yandere-linked-universe blog and I’m pretty sure you’re pinkittwice.

So, I was just wondering what ideas you might have about the chain being yandere for one person. Like, what would the dynamic be and how they would behave as yanderes, you know that kind of stuff.

I hope it’s not too much to ask but I’m just curious to see what you might think of it since you’re pretty much the only person on the sight that I know of who also writes things involving lu and the reader. I’m not unhappy or dissatisfied in any way but it does get a little lonely being the only person who writes stuff like this. Sorry if this is too weird.

Masterlist

Yahaha~! You found me!

Everybody go check out their stuff @yandere-linked-universe

They do cool art sometimes and are even writing a whole fic which you can find right here.

It's really well written and I'm excited to see how the story progresses and where it goes- especially endgame.

And I'm assuming the ask means if they were yandere in the same circumstance than in the story.

That being said, I'm still going to apply the rules I have set for the Links. Like how Sky was never with his Zelda and similarly how Time and Malon never really happened. As for Wind, he will not be platonic unlike in the fic mentioned above- I will explain this in his section I promise.

Also, disclaimer, I'm not good at horror and I've never written for these types of characters before. But if you want headcanons then I'll provide the brainstorm that I've been cooking up of ever since I got this ask. (And it was a while ago I'm sorry for the wait.)

I'm also including some songs that I think best fit their rose tinted glasses ideal. Not necessarily yandere and can apply to Link being in love with you in general but it's as close as I'm going to get to making a playlist.

I might come back and change them to stalker songs and add these songs to a separate list entirely but maybe not...

Content under the cut!

It's long, brace yourself.

As a group, I think jealously would run high.

Everybody wants the attention of a single person and there's eight other people as competition.

If the group was tight knit as we like to portray them, it won't last long.

If dear reader was a little caring or naturally falls into a healer/medic position in the group, the group becomes more reckless, less caring about their personal safety- if only to get a momentary caress from the love of their life's fingers as their wounds are tended to.

There's less group unity and alliances between them form.

If the reader isn't a fighter well...

They would take turns guarding their prize and fight to be the one to do it.

Leaving you behind when they go to dungeons is a must.

They won't risk you getting a scratch on your person let alone putting you in a potentially dangerous situation.

They try to keep all their weapons away and out of reach. Less you get any ideas and try to fight with them or worse, get hurt playing with them.

Or try to fight against them. HAHAHAHA!! How crazy would that be?

Like you would stand a chance.

When you're simply traveling with the group, your designated spot is on top of Epona, hands down, no questions asked.

Not only would be easier to keep an eye on you, and make it harder to get away, but Twilight has personally asked Epona (through Wolfie) that if they were ever ambushed, she was to take off with you and get away from the fight no matter the cost. She'll always come back to him anyway- so if you're tied to connected to her than all the more reason for him to be the one to retrieve you when it's all over.

The others don't like how Twilight gets to be the one to greet you first. But Epona is on Twilight's side and everyone knows it.

So they wait their turn.

You're on top of Epona even if you're a fighter as well.

If you can prove your salt and fight with them, they actually don't try to keep you away as much as they can (because now it means that they can spend more time with you!)

It instead becomes a competition to be your partner. Among the younger ones anyway.

The older ones, are less concerned now by you fighting, and more by the younger ones who keep trying to be by your side (even if that's their spot) and try to keep them out of your way.

Every bump and cut you get is treated immediately by who ever reaches you first.

It's once again a race.

The group, as yandere's go, do not know how annoying they're being nor do they plan to stop.

If you told stories of your past conquests, it a mixed bag of awe, adoration and anger for you even being put there to begin with. These thoughts are not voiced however, and they instead stew and simmer and grow into their possessive tendencies.

Because they would protect you, honor you, worship you and you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. Not if you were with them, not if you stayed with them, not if you were in their Hyrule.

There's a slight knee jerk reaction when you bring out your items to take it away because it's dangerous. But not only would that piss you off, it would take away what little protection you have on your person and they don't want to take any risks when it comes to your safety.

I wouldn't share too much if I were you.

Now as Individuals they're all different, obviously.

Let's explore that.

Time

He's the most dangerous

I'm starting this off with that

I'm talking the most calculating, scheming and devious of the whole group

He know he's in charge and that the others will listen to him regardless if they actually agree with him or not

Because he's the leader

His grip on the group lessens as time goes by and their unity dissipates

But he's delusional and he doesn't realize it

However, because he's already in this position, he takes it upon himself to take care of you

And others let him

Less work for them to focus on when they can be by your side instead

You never have watch

You're always in the middle of the group

He'd gladly send the boys ahead of you into danger to make sure that they deal with it before you even get there.

The others let him with little thought because it's for you

So they go for it

Time however, is somehow, never the one to go ahead, instead waiting behind (with you) while they go ahead and deal with the issue

He gets away with this 8/10 times

Mostly because he rotates who's he's sacrificing

Dad! Time is not here- not anymore

But he lets them near you because he's only biding his time

You're meant to be

Soulmates, if you will

If a little time with you is all those boys need to stay in line and listen to him then he'll allow it

Because they're only boys

He's a man through and through

They have nothing on him

And you deserve more than a mere boy

He has some other concerns on his mind while the boys fight each other like street dogs

Time has to think about your future together so he daydreams the most out of the group.

He doesn't really have a home and a roof over his head for himself- let alone you and he knows he'd have to change that

He thinks about staying as a permanent employee at Lon Lon Ranch

He can save enough money

Buy a house

Maybe some land

And enough things for you and him to make a comfortable life without any worries

Maybe even start a family?

The dream is a reprieve form the headache that are other boys who won't leave you alone

Pray you don't end up in his Hyrule

EVER

This is just the gateway he'd be waiting for to keep you all to himself

Fighter or not it's dangerous to travel with them

You're in danger

And he won't stand for that.

He doesn't know how exactly he'd do it

But he plans to leave you at Lon Lon Ranch, waiting for him, for when he comes back after the mission

He'd have to find some kind of way to actually keep you there and find you when you inevitably try to leave the Ranch

But he's traveled all over his Hyrule

There's no place you could go that he doesn't know about

As the adult of the group, he'd step over all the others

He's not going to listen to them when they try to stop him

They don't know as much as he does

They haven't experienced as much as he has

He knows that this is the best and only option to ensure that you're safe and well taken care of

He'd doesn't mind leaving you as prisoner to the Gerudo instead either if the others start to really get pushy

It won't be comfortable and it won't be glamorous

But they'll definitely keep you in one place

And he can walk in whenever he wanted thanks to that note from the chief from a time long ago

Pick you up, take you away and you'll be his

He daydreams a lot

And he knows that you'll choose him

You have to

He's the best and only option

He's never felt happier thinking about you and the life you'll both have

He's struggled so much anyway

Maybe you were the blessing the goddesses owed him for all his work in his youth

And surely they aren't so cruel to give you to him and then take you away by some monster attack or some terrible unforeseen fate

He can't have that either

So he'll take the first and best out he's given

But while you're here with him...

He's looking at you like you're magic

Warrior

Warrior is the least dangerous

He knows the feel of being on the receiving side of someone's obsession

He was ignorant for a long time about it

But he wasn't sure how to feel comfortable in his own skin again when he found out about it

He can see how the others are starting to show similar obsessive tendencies and tries to mitigate what he can

He does a lot of damage control

It's what he's trying to do anyway- he's not very successful

Warrior is the one who's challenging their train of thought

Why do they think this is ok? Why don't they ask you for your opinion? Why do they not give some time alone to recharge? Why don't they lay off?

Because it's totally for your benefit- AND THEIRS

Because it's not ok

He doesn't see himself follow the exactly same train of thought

He doesn't see himself doing what they're doing

He's just annoyed that they're the ones doing it

Warrior becomes the very definition of hypocrite.

However- because he's the one acting as your advocate- the others don't consider him as much as a threat and therefore more inclined to listen to him at this point in time than Time himself

It also means that they don't fight him as much when he wants time with you. Mostly because in their eyes, he's not interested

They're wrong

At some point in Warrior's attempt to keep the group together and keep you from going crazy or hating all of them, he begins to gain ulterior motives in his mission

He begins to play the role in an attempt to win you over.

Because- see, he's not like them

He won't violate your space

Go through your stuff

Or keep you from doing what you love

He's the one to say you should join them in fights, that you should stay, that you can hold your own

Since he's the main strategist in the group, he takes into account your skills and always places you at a distance from the fight or from the most obsessive the group.

He knows that their one track mind could kill you or them and there's still the darkness to defeat.

They don't have the luxury to afford this kind of distractions

When the others aren't paying attention to him, he'd pepper you with compliments and flirty lines, playing up his charm and suave attitude

He becomes the perfect gentleman

You'd never know that he's crazy

Just join him and be with him- that's all he wants

He loves you so what more is there to offer you?

He's got the status, the looks and the means to take care of you so you wouldn't have to worry about anything else

He'd be the best husband that Hyrule has ever seen

He'd hate to have the group scare you off with how over the top they've all been.

He knows the group is being annoying with being by your side all the time and how they don't let you be and how there's always someone by your side even when you're at your final straw

Warrior is the one who takes over guarding you when you need to pee or bath and actively argues on your behalf to let you take care of your hygiene.

He's not always successful but it's the thought that counts right?

Hyrule agrees with him most of the time and since Hyrule seems to be the only one who still cares (somewhat) about the mission, they make an agreement

Warrior isn't at all concerned about the others and know that you'd come around to him eventually.

Since he's not like the others

You're his first thought in the morning, his last thought when he rests his head to sleep and there's nothing that he hasn't been doing that wasn't for you

Hyrule

Hyrule is the least possessive

Mostly because of his low confidence.

I've mentioned in a previous post that is unrelated to this, his love language is physical touch- so he's all over you

There always have to be some way that he's holding you- whether its a hand on your shoulder or the small of your back, maybe he's holding your hand or maybe he's just pinched the edge of your tunic

But he's careful to not go beyond what you're comfortable with

He doesn't want to you to pull away from him

Because the others will not hesitate to push and pull him away if you so much as hinted at not wanting him near you

So he plays it cool

Hyrule also gets concerned when there's too many injuries to go around and he needs to heal the group

Because if you hurt then he can't spare anything else to help you

It's one of the few things he thinks that he's useful for- so if he can't do this little thing for you then why does he bother?

There's so many other guys here that could easily sweep you off of your feet and have so much more to offer you

He doesn't have any land

He doesn't have a house

His Hyrule... isn't the most welcoming and he doesn't like the idea of bringing you from one dangerous situation to another

Especially since he's being hunted for sport back home

It doesn't stop him from trying to win your heart obviously and he tries to show you and win you over in whatever little ways he can.

He's the gentlest with you

Whatever hurting you, he'll heal

Whatever scaring you, he'll deal with

Whatever danger comes your way, he'll end it's miserable existence

He- like Time- daydreams a lot but he's trying to live for the moment

He's almost resigned in a way- that you won't pick him

He knows they're on borrowed time, he knows that something dangerous can take you away from them or that he could be the one to be taken away instead

So he's trying to make up for it in the time that you do have together and spend every second by your side that he can

Because the group gets a little more reckless in their attempts to impress you and be dealt with (whether you're healing them and tending to their wounds or just yelling at them)

He heals the group a lot little less

If they're going to be stupid and get hurt- then he's not going to waste his magic when they're only going to do the same thing the next day

Soon, with enough time and patience, Hyrule begins to hoard all the healing potions as well.

It's an attempt to keep them away from you so when they're hurt he can step in and just get them healed up in a minute

But it also works to keep the group from getting too reckless

It's not his intention but he takes it as it is

If they get hurt too much anyway then that just means less competition for him to deal with and a higher chance with you!

Because of his low confidence about you actually ending up with him, he becomes one of the more mission minded of the group, probably right after Warrior

Since they both have their sights on eradicating the darkness instead of focusing on their love lives (for different reasons) this is the first alliance to be formed

Hyrule wants you to be his but he's at a crossroad

He knows Warrior has a lot of charm to win you over and has the means to make sure you live a good life

He knows it's more than he can ever give you

But he's fairly certain he can take Warrior in a fight

One well timed Thunder Strike and Warrior wouldn't stand a chance

Not to mention that they've been fighting side by side now, so he knows what to look for to bring him down

He doesn't think it'll come to that though

Warrior doesn't seem that interested with you anyway so he doesn't worry about him

Which just leaves the problem of winning your heart

He wonders what life would be like he can love like you do

Twilight

Twilight is the most protective

It's his wolf instincts and his caretaker instincts combined.

He's used to being the one to look after everyone else

Being his village's primary babysitter and all

But wolves are family animals and they protect their mates

He's the one to fight to keep you away from the fights, whether you can handle yourself or not

He can Four agree with this and it's the second alliance that forms

You must be protected at all costs and there's many things around that can injure you, or worse

So they both try their hardest to keep you safe and secure

If bubble wrap existed in Hyrule you would have been wrapped in it and then wrapped again for good measure.

He's the first to run up to you and the first to drag over Hyrule or someone with a fairy or a potion to treat you

He's not afraid to start punching anything that dares to threaten you

Forget the sword

He'll just start swinging... or maybe just go full Woflie even if he's not in his form and go for the jugular

He lets you ride on Epona more often than not and refuses to let you work more than you should

He's quick to carry things for you

He tries to impress you by being a handy man and tries to fix whatever he can get his hands on for you

He's not good at it

But he tries

His love language is acts of service so he's trying

You don't really need his help though

But let him get it out

And tell him that he's doing a good job please, for your sake

He talks a lot about his home life with you and he ask a lot of questions about your own

He's comparing notes

Trying to see what way of life you'd be more comfortable with and how he can accommodate to it

He tries to win you over with the simple life and he paints pretty pictures of having a ranch and a farm and letting you have all and any animals you want

Wolfie make an appearance every other day instead of simply whenever it's convenient

If you're a dog lover then it's even better.

Twilight is not afraid of taking advantage of it to give you all the kisses and cuddles he can get away in his other form

The others would have to fight the each other just to get kisses from you but Wolfie gets special privilege's

He gets kisses no problem

He's not above using it to his advantage

Epona is always on Twilight side and while he's in wolf form, he tells her all about you and how much he loves you and all the ways he finds you amazing and spectacular

Because you're riding Epona more often than not, he tells her to watch after you and to keep your safe and to get to a safe area if they ever get ambushed

She doesn't know how human romance works, so she agrees.

Link is her master and her best friend, so she trusts him with her life and you're important to him, clearly, so you're important to her too

He's not going to lose you like he lost Midna

She left him behind with barely a glance behind

You won't leave him at all

He'll make sure of it

The others won't take you away from him either

Four seems to be the one who's most on his side right now and together they can lessen the competition

He'd hate to fight the guy and maybe they can come to an understanding but he knows he's got the brute strength that Four lacks not to mention Wolfie and Epona as well

So maybe he'll listen to reason

His world used to be so grey with no change in either direction

An eternal twilight

You became his light in the gloom

Sky

Sky is the least violent

He actually falls in the middle of both protectiveness and jealousy.

But he's more set on letting each of the boy pick each other off (not unlike Time) and then he'll figure out who's left over to deal with them then.

Sky also isn't one to fight off the other people who you interact with

He's not going to go confront the person or drag you away and definitely not going to start swinging

He still feels uncomfortable if you aren't by his side but he'll make up for it when you're done by sticking to your hip

Sky doesn't want you to feel cramped by only talking to the group

But he does get a little jumpy when you're beyond his line of sight.

That being said- he will let you out of his sight

Not for long periods of time, mind you, but he's not going to be in your shadow the entire time or demand to be glued to your hip

He's arguably the most normal out of the group- the least yandere if you will

Still crazy though

Sky is also one to agree with Warrior and Twilight.

He's not a part of any alliance but between wanting you to be safe and still wanting you to be healthy and clean (he knows how being clean helps out ones moral and he doesn't want you to be depressed when you're with them) he'd let them do the fighting and arguing for him and when they lose a bit, he'll say something and add to their cause

He's trying to be chill and he plays on his harp when you're nearby.

If you come sit next him to listen and chill- he will absolutely be over the moon

He will go through some of your things to make sure you have anything and everything you'd need for their adventure

But he won't take away your weapons or go through your diary (he wouldn't be able to read it anyway)

He does try to ask you in some roundabout way if he has permission to do that.

It'll be long winded and vague and a total play on words, so be careful to what you agree with when he asks something of you

Sky although is the least violent, that's in regards to other humans

Monsters have learned to keep away from him when he's on the battle field and if they haven't learned that...

They will

He's the one that tries to have your relationship mature and grow naturally.

Sky is going to simply be your friend first and show you that he has your best interest at heart

So when you talk to him about your problems and how the others are driving you crazy, he'll give you advice, tell you he's on your side and openly give you outs to avoid the others.

If you want time alone and the others begin looking for you, he'll tell them you went in the other direction and he'll send them on a wild goose chase.

Since he's on your side, he tells you to at least let him know where you're going and for how long so he can distract the others.

He's not concerned about you running away, since the others are going to do the work for him

Four and Twilight and Wolfie can find and hunt you down in a heart beat and you'll be together again

He won't blame you for running away, there's a lot of people who won't leave you alone in the group and it annoys him too

And Hyrule, Wind and Time keep you within the group and close by so he never has to worry about not knowing where you are at all times

Warrior and Wild keep you well fed and well taken care of

And Legend makes sure that you always have a potion on you and has even given some power rings to ensure your safety

So all he has to do is butter you up by being the least persistent of them all and you'll fall for him and you can be together forever and ever and even be the start of Hyrule as everyone knows it

Wouldn't that be nice?

While he may not be the most musically inclined of the group, he's the one to serenade you when he gets the chance

He plays his harp more often than not, trying to get the notes out that he hears in his head when he looks at you

His life was such a simple song before you came along but now... It's a symphony, he wants you to know this

Four

Four is the most controlling

He's the one putting restrictions on you left and right and is the one to never want you to leave his side- let alone his line of sight.

You see, he's got these voices in his head that bounce ideas off of each other.

When one might be, hey that guy is talking to you

The other responds with, he's close to you too

One might say, you're smiling and it's beautiful

Another says, why is it directed at that guy?

Which snowballs to, you're a little too close, a little too nice, is he flirting? Has he touched you? Is he trying to make a move?

And then he's even more possessive and it grows and spirals and next thing he knows, he's next to you again and chewing the poor guy out for no reason when it was a simple conversation about the weather and directions.

And that's in public

Now add in the threat of monsters and traps and many other dangerous that surround the group as a whole

He's paranoids in the extreme

So when Twilight suggests that they tie you to Epona and keep you where he they can always see you, he's the first to agree

In fact he feels as if Twilight is the only one who's actually looking out for your well being

Wind tries to throw fits and get the two of them to back off but he's just a kid, what does he know? He should know better anyway, he knows how dangerous this journey is going to get, so why is Wind trying to actively put you in harms way?

Twilight a least can get Wind to listen to reason and Twilight's better at explaining it than he is so while Four'll yell, Wind is really Twilight's problem.

He doesn't like the idea of fighting is friends but he can see that well... He's the only to notice that they're not as close as they used to be when you first joined.

He thinks that Warrior can feel it but Four is the one who'll say it out loud.

Four is actually the most trigger happy out of all them, he's not afraid to break character and yell at some poor passerby who's too foolish enough to even look in your direction

He's the angry guard dog in public and it's a little hard to reign him most of the time

Twilight agree with him in this but he's also the one to hold him back

The last thing they need is to be kicked out of town

But if while you're there maybe he can get something for you?

He's the kind of person to make something for their beloved but he only knows how to make weapons and tools

Things that he's never going to give to you and actively tries to keep them away from at all costs

Yes, if you have your own weapons he'll also try to take them away

He'd rather see you angry than injured

No, he does not see how being weaponless in a fight will lead to more injuries and no, he not going to listen to those who try to tell him that.

Maybe he can learn how to make jewelry and gift that instead?

A pretty thing like yourself should be adorned in more beauty.

And he can save enough to make it with rubies and diamonds and any gold that he can salvage in Hyrule

He'd give you and make you anything you want

You'd be dripping in jewels if he had it his way

He also knows that the voices try to point out his flaws and all the ways that he's really not that appealing to any potential partners

It doesn't matter that he's merged and they all have the same flaws

But whenever he's next to you and things are calm, the voices are quiet and he feels like him

Wild

Wild is the Most violent

Like Four, he does not care if it's a simple conversation, if someone else is taking up your time and attention then he will want to start swinging.

He's usually held back by Warrior and Time since Twilight typically has to restrain Four

But if you're in danger? Real danger?

He becomes the equivalent of the Fierce Deity, no mask required

The battle field becomes a blood bath by his hand alone

Sure the others will want to to cause some destruction as well and destroy any and all threats to you, but Wild goes the extra mile

Forget Twilight going feral, he has an excuse- but Wild?

He'll go ballistically feral, even going as far to drop his weapons to rip into the threats with his hands and teeth

He has to make sure there's absolutely nothing in between you and him

He's not afraid to throw away his whole good guy reputation and even the reputation of the hero in order make sure he's the last man standing

Wild is now taking notes on how the the group fights and how they defend themselves, defend you and try to figure out the best ways to take them down

If there was ever to be a physical fight within the group, he'll not only be a part of it but most likely also the instigator

Wild has already lost all his friends and family before, he can't afford to lose anyone else

Besides his Hyrule has so much more to offer you than some of the others

Not to mention he has his own house- in a safe village- with low monsters around it- and barely any reason to think that he wouldn't be able to provide for you

He's got the rupees he needs from his monster farming and everything's nearby. Whatever he can't get, he can teleport to and he wouldn't have to leave you alone for long periods of time.

Wild goes out of his way to buy you clothes since the others have taken care of your other needs (much to his chagrin)

But he also makes sure you have the best portions of the meals he makes

He keep tracks how much you ate and when

He always there to give you a snack if you even mention of being peckish

He knows the others won't mind if he dotes in this manner

Not only because it's for you...

He has all the food anyway.

When he sees that you're wearing Legend's old tunic, he instantly hates it

He and Legend are less of an alliance and merely on tolerable terms- not that Legend notices or cares- because of this and Wild knows that your clothes have taken a lot battery

He wants to you be warm and protected

But he also has a lot of extra outfits

So he takes a page out of Legend's book and gives you some as well

He's a little disappointed you don't wear them as often but he knows that most of them are specialized for certain terrain- Legend's is more of a catch all kind of deal so he can understand the need for general uses

He's not happy about it

But he understands

The crazy thing is, you wouldn't want to end up in his Hyrule either

Pray you never do

Like Time, Wild has been all over his Hyrule and has traveled to all the nooks and crannies

He knows that he can hide you away without the others ever knowing what happened to you

Not even Wolfie would be able to track you

Why?

Because (and this is from AoC) he can teleport more than one person at a time, so he can just take you far away and somewhere secluded, somewhere where you wouldn't be able to leave

Hebra region? In the cabin where he learned how to shield surf? Or play the snow bowl game?

Gerudo Wasteland?

Akkala Region? With Robbie? It's hard to get past the guardians and the high level monsters...

Or maybe ditch you in the mountains with Paya in Kakariko Village?

Or maybe leave you on the Great Plateau? You can't get down without a paraglider...

Life with you is the only reason he's still on this journey instead of just taking you and leaving

The darkness is still around and it threatens his future with you

But it looks bright in his head when all is over and he's so happy that he met you

Life is now pink! And he won't take off his rose tinted glasses any time soon!

Legend

Legend is the most possessive

As some people have headcanoned in the past, he has a problem letting things go

He's lost so many people he cares about- he knows that items are a little harder to lose

He's the Collector- the Hoarder

Naturally when he sees something that he wants, he'll stop at nothing to make it his.

However, since he has a problem coming into direct contact with his own feelings, he's projecting

Legend instead tries to keep you at arms length and fails miserably

He doesn't want to fall for someone only to have them be ripped form him again, and again and again,

He cares for the group still even after their disagreements and eventually mistrust

He doesn't want to leave this little family they've made for themselves and has disillusioned himself into thinking that he can save it before it's too late

But in his fairytale ending, you're with him

Legend, though, still knows that their time will end and everyone will eventually go home so by the time everyone begins fighting and jealousy runs amuck, he's trying to hold everyone at arms length

When you don't give him attention, he's prone to get angry and may very well at times act like he hates you

He doesn't like it when you so much as breath in someone else's direction

You're his and his alone, why is anyone else even worth your time and energy?

But he's not going to say this out loud

So he's frustrated with himself and pouts often

So he's stuck in a cycle of self hatred and jealousy and not willing to do something to change it

But when you do give him attention, he's melts into a puddle

He's at your beck and call if so much as say his name

There's very little that he isn't willing to do for you or get for you, anything to make you happy

He's also quick to give you power rings to protect you even if he's against you fighting

Legend is also going to give you an extra tunic if (/when) your clothes take too much damage and they're too far gone for him to fix

It's a power move on his part

Not only does he feel giddy with boyish excitement when he sees you in his old tunic (that definitely has some kind of magical properties to ensure your safety), it's also him marking you as his property

And the others know it

Wild does a similar thing so you can at least have a change of clothes but Legend is quick to tailor them when you're not looking to not fit you and be uncomfortable

He's the one going through your things for sure

He need to know that he's the one who's taking care of you

He needs to know you have everything you need

He needs to know if there's anything that you're lacking so that he can sweep in and provide it for you

He's not really planning on taking out the competition or is planning beyond keeping you by his side for the day

He (like Hyrule) is living for the moment, because he's afraid he's going to blink and you'd be gone and there would be nothing else left for him

But you won't be gone

He's going to make sure of that

He's got tunnel vision for sure

But since he's also trying to not fall for you and get his heart broken, it becomes a game of hot and cold with a whole lot of minefields in between that could set him off for (what looks like) no reason

He hates you- no he doesn't- he wants nothing to do with you- he wants to be your everything- he's not going to write you poetry or braid your hair or fall asleep listening to your heart beat- he would kill for that to be his reality- he hates that you're all he's able to think about now- don't leave him please

He's not crushing

He's not

He is

Wind

Wind is the least protective- Still protective but arguably not to the degree of the others

You see, he knows that the others protect him because he's the youngest

And he's not blind

He can see that they're just as, if not more, protective over you

He can see how you hate it and how much it annoys you

He's not going to make that same move

And as a bonus, since the others are protecting you anyway, why should he put in the work and protect you as well?

There's enough people watching you all the time

With the others taking care of it, he can plan on winning you over

He's going to give you as much freedom as he's able to get away with

It'll put him as your favorite

This immediately puts him at a crossroads with Four who's somehow a hair's breadth away from tying you up and chaining you together by the wrists

They fight against each other the most

He plans on marrying you

It's honestly in the same degree of young children that say they're growing to grow up and marry their dad or their mom

Because obviously you marry the person you love and you stay with them for the rest of your life

And he loves you.

So that's what he plans to do

Win you over is step one

Then he (and you) just need to wait a few years for him to get older

And then he'll marry you

He does not see a problem with this plan

Typically I make the reader the same age as him to avoid the worst of it but in this case, this does not matter

I'd say that if you're older, he'd get more easily attached to giving you the freedom you've been missing

With him by your side obviously

Because you're older- you're an 'adult'- you can take care of yourself

You're so cool in his eyes

The others, naturally, see a problem with this

Not only out of jealously at the very thought of it not being them to marry you but because they know he's young and if you're older, (say closer to Twilight and Warrior's age) then they can see the problem it'll prove to be for you from a moral stand point

The others (mainly Legend and Four) bully tease him when you're not around about how selfish he is to even think about making you wait, when you could easily marry one of them instead, so why would you ever choose him?

He tries not to let it get to him because he does hang out with you more than they get to- so maybe they're really just jealous that his plan is working

Wind has the more innocent approach to this whole ordeal out of the whole group

His obsession isn't healthy, obviously, but he at least the excuse of being young and not knowing how to deal with crushes

Because he's awkward with it, (and he knows it) he's actually pretty quick to shut away the worst of it when he's spending time with you, less you think he's weird and push him away

Not only does he not want that to happen, but he's heard the others come up to you countless times regarding him and his behavior and if you'd like him to leave you alone

Because they will deal with him if you so much as say one word of annoyance

The choice is yours

If you indulge him when he wants your attention then he's more like himself and becomes the most normal out of the whole group

He becomes the him when you first joined

Before the obsession

Wind becomes your safest bet in terms of keeping your sanity intact and it's the groups saving grace to keep up any illusion that they're still normal

Wind is dealing with a highly flammable vial of puppy love concentrate

All in the form of budding teenage yandere hormones

If you had met him any later in his life, the cocktail would have no doubt exploded into the form of the other's behavior and he'd seem like a completely different person instead

He's almost like a lost puppy, always following you around and being in your shadow

It would be cute if he wasn't crazy

Wind adores you though and he wants you to know that

[blzzrdstryr]

Darling escaping - Mondstadt girls edition

Inspired by a request I got, will do edition for other characters in the future.

Starring: Amber, Eula, Jean, Lisa, Rosaria

Reader is gender neutral

CW: Yandere themes, confinement, drugging

Amber

It’s highly unlikely that Amber will confine you, but if it reaches that point, then she will try to be as understanding as possible. Being kidnapped is hard and stressful, it’s OK if you hit and yell at her, she gets you, you’re scared and anxious, she will let it slide.

The same goes for any failed escape attempts, Amber will maintain that sweet-saccharine-I-am-not-mad-at-you-please-stop-crying-and-screaming persona very well. She will be very mad of course, partially at you, mostly at herself.

She keeps you confined in the cottage in the middle of the forest - Amber, unlike you, has a vast experience of navigating among the wilderness, so she can almost always recapture you with ease, years spent tracking and hunting lending well in her search.

You will have to be quick and clever if you want to escape - you can’t dwell in one place for too long, nor can you leave any mark in hurry - Amber will use them to deduce your path and location.

You will also have to avoid major cities and settlements - Knights of Favonius have a good reputation and Amber is known for her upstanding nature, she can lie to locals that you’re dangerous escaped criminal or confused and troubled victim who wandered to far for their own good, and have you presented on the platter.

Once she drags you back, she will start to think about escape-proofing the cottage. She might also buy a chain, long enough to let you wander in most of the room. Don’t worry she’ll let you out, she just needs to install new sets of locks on every door in your house.

Eula

The day when she finally loses an internal battle and kidnaps you is the day when both you and Eula start to hate her intensely. Just like Amber, she also tries to be understanding, yet it’s hard. She can sometimes snap back or glare at you with that cold look, which will sink your already drowning sympathies even further.

Escape attempts will be met quite poorly, Eula understands that you’re terrified and stressed and don’t want to be anywhere near her, yet it hurts so badly she loses control. She will say a couple of very insidious and bitter things, as she drags you back, her hold on you a tad too forceful not to be painful.

You will most likely be confined in her mansion - Lawrences might be universally despised by all of Mondstadtians, yet they’re also filthy rich and people have a hard time saying no to shiny mora. You will be allowed to wander in a couple of rooms with all the necessities in your reach.

She won’t allow you to have any maids or servants though - her reputation is already low, and letting a third person in on this dangerous secret will definitely be her downfall.

That’s why she wastes no time when she sees rooms she kept you in empty. Eula will bolt out of the house, uncaring how she might look to others as her mind races, searching for your possible routes.

Your best bet is staying inside or close to major settlements. As it was said before, Mondstadtian despise Lawrences, and Eula isn’t an exception to that. She might be a respected Knight of Favonius, but if you act distressed enough others will question her motives and deter her from grabbing you back.

If you somehow happen to be in the wilderness it’s already over for you. Eula spends most of her time outside the city gates, she is very familiar with the terrains and forests, so she navigates them pretty well. No matter how fast or long you run, she will get you back.

Eula will act extra callous and cold after your failed escape, her heart aching at the fact that you were that desperate to be anywhere but with her.

Jean

Jean is far from being an intense yandere, she will confine you only if she believes that you can’t live comfortably by yourself.

One of the perks of being a highly respected acting grandmaster is that no one really questions her decisions. Even Diluc, who left and now despises the knights, acknowledges how responsible and hardworking she is.

She will convince others that you’re mentally unwell, that you need care and patient guidance to even function, and so she will pressure you into becoming her protege.

None of your words about Jean’s true nature will be taken seriously - acting grandmaster is a kind, hardworking and responsible leader, she does everything in the name of others’ well-being. How can you accuse Jean of something like this?

Moreover, your words will be used against you, as she will present them as a proof of your fragile mental state - you must be deeply delusional to think of your caretaker so badly and poorly, blaming her for things she had no hand in.

You will be “gently” reminded to stay with Jean in her own house,a knight always patrolling near the building when she has work to do. Unlike most yanderes, Jean will allow you to freely wander in the house and courtyard, yet nothing more.

If you escape, you should probably head to the next nation, without stopping in any of the Mondstadt settlements - Jean’s reach is far and wide.

She will dispatch the group of knights, ordering them to safely retrieve you back into her arms - “[First] is scared and confused”, she’ll tiredly sigh and ask them to be gentle with you upon your recapture.

She won’t punish you once you’re back, no she will be calm and collected, despite the inner storm - she has to keep the mask up, both for you and others. You will find two knights on the daily patrol though.

Lisa

Lisa can appear very lazy and careless at first glance, but she is far from that. The witch is the best graduate of Sumeru academy in two centuries and an expert at potion making. She’s also very good at her time management and has a spark of ingenuity, which makes your escape highly unlikely.

First of all, you will be pumped full of sedative drugs, if you aren’t compliant and broken enough - Lisa would like to think that you’re all nice and obedient, but she can’t.

She will slip drugs in your food and water, sometimes she will force the syringe needle under your skin, if you realize what she’s doing and start being difficult.

With the substances muddling your mind you will be as helpless and weak as a newborn kitten, unable to make three steps in a straight line.

With you being constantly high Lisa doesn’t have to stress over your escape - she just needs to lock all windows and doors and add a bit of silencing charms so no one can hear your angered screams.

It would be an incredibly simple, yet perfect plan if it wasn’t for drug resistance. Over time your body will start to adapt to the influence of her “potions”, and you will need a higher dose to be rendered helpless and incoherent again.

You will realize this once the terrible mix of withdrawal and clarity of mind hits you. Half-bent and squirming you will slip from your cell and start to run.

It’s highly unlikely you will go far, especially during withdrawal, but your best chance of escaping lies into contacting any human settlement - you will appear very sick and distressed and they’ll have no choice but take you in and let you endure the incoming torture under the safety of the house.

Once your body is clean, you should run, as far as possible, you should also change your clothes - Lisa marked the ones she kept you in with her electro energy, making you easier to detect.

If she gets you back, she’ll start switching between different kinds of sedatives, so you don’t develop resistance. Lisa will also add a couple of locks and a long chain to her purchases.

Rosaria

Rosaria, to her own dismay, doesn’t own any fancy mansion to keep you in, the house that she lives in is small and cramped as she uses the place to just sleep and keep the little of what she owns here.

This house, despite its small size, has a cellar - it’s empty and unused, with cobwebs decorating the corners. It’s perfect for keeping you in, when you’re difficult.

Don’t worry the cellar is the last resort - Rosaria will confide you here, if you act extra defiant and disobedient. On most days, you’re free to wander in that small house, and if you act extra nice, the nun will let you out under her strict supervision.

She will however, install a long chain and cuff it around your leg when she has to leave for a job.

You can run away from her in two instances, when she decides to go for a short walk with you, and when she is away, if you are able to unscrew or loosen the chain enough for your feet to slip.

If you escape during your walk, you better be an excellent runner, because Rosaria is fast. You will have to compete not only in speed, but also endurance and stamina with her, because Rosaria can run for a very long time, especially when she’s chasing you.

If you escape when she’s away your task gets infinitely easier, you’ll just need to make your way to Mondstadt and make your accusations - Rosaria isn’t very popular here, nor does she have a great image, so your words will hold some weight.

Whether she is found guilty or innocent, it will provide enough time for you to leave the city and head for the neighbouring nation.

If Rosaria gets you back, then you can forget about seeing a sunlight for a very long time, she will keep you chained in the cellar for at least two weeks as a punishment.

[let-them-read-fics]

Rivalries Of The High Seas

Requested By Anon: "Pirate AU, enemies to lovers."

AU: Pirate

Pairing: Captain!Rosé x Fem!Captain!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,375

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Injury (Inflicted On Reader), Dangerous Situations, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Anon, thank you for this one! I've never seen the movie you mentioned in your request, but you did well in explaining what you wanted to see here. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

PS ~ Captain Rosé could step on me and I'd say thank you

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Death isn't a new thing to you. It isn't some far-off, enigmatic fear capable of tearing down your psyche anytime the topic is brought up. In fact, you're faced with the harsh realities of it almost everyday, given your ranking. Even still, when you woke up this morning, you hadn't expected for the day to consist of you meeting your end. 

Your hands remain clasped together tightly, bound to the rickety wooden chair you've been securely strapped into by layers of rope and chains. Your wrists burn as the rough material pulls against your skin, surely leaving dark marks by now, but that's the least of your worries as you eye the bandits standing before you. Their faces hold smug grins, cheeks pulling back in eerie smiles to reveal crooked teeth. "I won't give you the pleasure of seeing me beg for my life. I accept my fate." You say bravely, holding your head high. 

"How noble, Captain." They sneer, leaning far too close for comfort. You fight the gag that works its way up your throat at the smell of them, the wicked stench burning your nostrils as it invades them. 

"Even if you escape now, the rest of my crew will come for you." Rosé finally speaks from behind you, sitting in the same state as you as she glares at the surrounding men. Her fingers futilely pull at your shared restraints for the millionth time, brushing along your wrist in the process. 

"It's cute that you think that matters. We'll be long gone by then."

Her head lightly pushes against yours as she leans back in her chair, seeking to evade the man when he enters her personal space. For some reason unbeknownst to you, your blood boils at his actions -- though Rosé is your enemy of sorts, seeing that she's a rival captain herself, you can't help but want to keep him away from her. 

The vile creature parts her legs with an evil smirk on his lips, his filthy hand groping her thigh as he runs his fingers along her beautiful skin. She whimpers in protest, growing afraid of what he'll do to her in her captive state. Had she been unrestricted right now, she would've most definitely cut his hand off, forever reminding the world of his misdeeds. 

"Just get it over with!" You shout angrily, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've done today. You've grown tired of the game they've been playing for over an hour, flipping between beating and ridiculing you relentlessly. 

"Alright, alright," their leader chuckles, putting his hands up as he approaches you. He instructs his men to be on standby, ready to gather around the two of you and hoist you into the air. They wait for the all-clear to throw you overboard and into the chilly sea below, full of creatures you've seen during your fateful adventures over the years. There are certainly worse ways to go, and you attempt to come to terms with what's about to happen. Perhaps this is a poetic end for you -- being laid to rest in the place that you've spent most of your life and made countless memories.

"Keep those eyes on me as you fall. I want to remember what it looked like to take down the infamous Y/N L/N." You narrow your eyes at their leader, grimacing as they scan over his greasy, jet black hair and tattered overcoat. Aren't the "bad guys" supposed to at least be stylish? He's a sorry excuse for one if so. 

"Kiss my ass." You utter, spitting at him. He lunges forward, just like you expected -- seriously, why are men so predictable? -- and takes the collar of your shirt between his fingers. He delivers a swift blow to your left cheek, only allowing you a second to recover before pulling your head back up to give the same treatment to the other side. 

You can feel Rosé tense behind you, doing all she can to reach for you and offer comfort. 

With a pained groan, you spit out a mouthful of fresh blood and raise your head to look at him again. "You know, you're not nearly as observant as you think you are." You smile, ignoring the pain that shoots through your busted lip. Before he has time to react, you raise your foot in one motion, swiftly connecting it with his crotch.  How could they neglect to tie your feet? That's practically Pirate 101.

He doubles over in an instant, lungs void of the air necessary to speak another insult in retaliation to your act and body incapable of any further movement. His men make the decision for him, taking this moment as a sign to follow through with their plan and throw you over. Shouts and cheers pierce through the air above you as you make your quick descent, not even having time to say a goodbye to Rosé or offer a final word to the universe. 

Cold water immediately rushes over your heated skin as you plunge into the waves below, its frigid temperature almost taking what little breath you managed to store away in your lungs. Aided by the water's altered state of gravity, you're able to work your hips past a few of the loosely tied ropes that rested against them. 

One thing you admire about Rosé is her quick thinking. She's smart -- while you distracted the leader, she took the opportunity to pry off some of the restraints that required more time and effort, just like you hoped she would. Her slender fingers inconspicuously wiggled their way out of the ropes before freeing you from them as well, and the bandits were none the wiser. Her previous actions make this part all the more easy, and after spending a while on the final ties, the two of you kick off of your chairs and head for the surface. It's a struggle, no doubt, with the way you have to fight to bring the chains up with you and keep them from pulling you further under. But eventually you reach the surface, once again filling your lungs with that miraculously fresh air that they so desperately craved. 

The saltwater stings as it flows over your face, getting in your eyes and rushing over all the wounds you've accumulated. Rosie sputters from beside you, struggling a bit to keep her head up, so you extend an arm for her to use to push herself up. You tell yourself you're only doing it -- that is, making sure she doesn't drown -- because she'll be useful in helping you survive. Deep down, though, your intentions extend further than that. 

Once you find a steady rhythm with the waves and the fear of drowning subsides for the time being, you scan the horizon line. "I see land -- over there." You say, using your head to point to what looks to be an island in the distance. "We'll swim when we have the energy and float when we need rest, okay?" She nods in response, and the two of you get set on your way. 

-----

Huffing from the pure exhaustion coursing through your bodies, you manage to drag yourselves onto shore before collapsing. The sand serves as a good place to lay, almost cradling you the longer you lay there. Tiny, rippling waves -- the aftershocks of much bigger ones -- lull into shore, fluttering past your ankles before being pulled back in by the tide. They lap against your skin, remedying your racing mind with their rhythm. Minutes pass in this cycle, setting you in a state of comfort before you remember everything you'll have to do before nightfall.

Once gaining enough strength, you raise your head and peek over at your rival.

She's sleeping. Of course. You can't blame her, but the sun -- once blazingly hot, perched high up in the sky -- is now setting, giving you a preview of the darkness that the night sky will hold. She turns, rolling her head towards you in her sleep, and you almost smile -- a light dusting of sand sticks to her puffed-out cheeks, and the bridge of her nose holds a small sunburn, making her look sunkissed and blushy. Y/N, stop that, you command yourself, shaking your head at your thoughts. She's your enemy, and she's the reason you're even in this mess in the first place. 

"Wake up," you nudge her, reverting back to your previously tense demeanor. The anger you possess for the situation you're in is returning en masse, wiping the pleasant thoughts of Rosé from your mind. 

She groans, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she attempts to ignore you. "Roseanne, we have to get up." Your voice is strong, commanding her just like your crew. Your crew, you think to yourself. Some of them were killed by the bandits while others were thrown into the prison chambers of your ship, left at the mercy of your enemies until they decide what they want to do with them. Your people are inventive and strong -- they'll likely find a way out of the sticky situation and reclaim victory. For now, though, you're left to worry about their fates as you attempt to survive on this island. If the elements and animals don't kill you first, the gorgeous woman beside you most definitely will. 

"I'm up!" She all but shouts, following another prodding from you. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively raises her hand to wipe her face -- you catch the chains before they can make contact and harm her, and she sends you an appreciative look. "Guess I forgot about these…" she shakes her arms, jiggling your restraints in the process, "Oopsie."

"Come on." You say, standing up and pulling her along with you. Her dilly dallying is making you impatient, and it only increases your levels of irritation. You don't have time to waste. 

"We have to break these," she states the obvious, searching the shore for a decently sized rock.

A sarcastic gasp slips past your lips as you look at her. "You don't say! I was thinking we'd just leave them on." She turns to glare at you, narrowing her eyes as she stops walking. Dear god, there's no time for this. With a mumbled "here we go", you allow her to continue. 

"You know, we wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you." 

"Me?!" You shout, completely taken aback. "Quite the contrary, Rosé. You're the one who led them to us!"

"If you would've accepted my offer, none of this would've happened. But you refuse to team up with anyone else. Look at where that got us now." She motions around herself to the island, expression settling back into an annoyed scowl as her eyes settle on you again. 

"It's not my fault that my crew is more trained than yours; I had no reason to merge our teams."

"An agreement would've solidified our strength!" She yells, stomping her foot into the sand. Her boots managed to survive the long trip here, but their material is completely soaked.

"I'm responsible for my crew, and my crew only. I had no decent reason to bring yours in with mine. It's just a liability and more mouths to feed." You say evenly, clenching and releasing your jaw a few times. 

She begins to fire off her rebuttal, but you tune her out for the most part and start walking further inland. She has no choice but to follow, and she does so while adamantly complaining. You throw occasional jabs to her arguments in order to keep her moving, and your plan works well. She's too busy bickering with you to notice that she's doing exactly what you want her to.

"...and you're so arrogant, Y/N! I mean, really. God, you're infuriating." 

"Are you done yet?" You ask, cocking your head to the side while you simply blink at her. She squints at you, about to give you another piece of her mind, but you glance down at the rock you led her to and she closes her mouth. 

"You can keep screaming at me or we can break these chains. Your choice." You shrug, pursing your lips. She cuts her eyes at you, but agrees with a huff, nonetheless. 

The two of you work together to find fittingly sized rocks, taking turns dropping them on your restraints and methodically working them against them. Eventually the chains give way, allowing your hands to wiggle out of their strict hold. You're the first to free yourself; once you're done, you find Rosé struggling in silence, refusing to ask for your help. 

"Here," you offer, extending a hand to her. Doing nice things for people without gaining something for yourself isn't something you do often -- you've been raised differently; grown more independent and self-serving after your time on the sea. 

"Oh, now you want to work together?" She quirks an eyebrow.

You put your hands up with an amused grin. "I don't have to help, feel free to do it alone." You stand, dusting the sand off of your clothes as you begin to walk away and investigate the island. She calls out behind you, annoyed shouts getting further and further away as you just smile and continue your journey. 

------

"Ah, glad you could join us again." You smirk, adding some kindling to the small fire you managed to set up during her time away. 

"Shut it," she bites back, glaring at you. 

"Tough crowd," you laugh, raising your eyebrows. For once, she doesn't say anything back. She busies herself with removing her shoes and socks, setting them next to the source of heat to dry before disappearing into the tree line. She returns a few minutes later, carrying with her a few different branches. Some of them are forked at the top, and she arranges them into a sturdy structure beside the fire as well. You try not to focus on how strong she looks as she does it, her muscles glistening in the fading evening light with a sheet of sweat.

To your surprise, she begins stripping. 

First her overcoat, which she drapes across the branch acting as a beam between the forked ones, and then her vest. She wrings them out individually, and you watch as the materials drip with what water hadn't already evaporated yet. The loose linen undershirt that she wears remains on, and you're thankful for that -- had she taken it off as well, you likely would've passed out. The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel her eyes on you, and you keep your gaze trained on the fire. 

"Well? Are you planning to stay in those clothes all night?" She asks, running a hand through her hair to fix it and get some of the sand out. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say you're trying to get me naked, Rosie." You play, smiling harder when you see her roll her eyes and look away. 

"You wish," she scoffs, though you can see her stealing glances at you as you remove your clothes. She admires the shadows that the fire casts over your body, the flames dancing as they offer their beautiful warmth. The two of you go way back, having grown up as frenemies due to your professions, but she's always had a soft spot for you. You piss her off to no end, and yet somehow she can think of plenty worse people to be stuck with.

After catching her staring, you decide to tease her. You flex your muscles, making sure to be extra and really make a show of it. She blushes, hiding behind her hands to escape the situation. 

"Awww, somebody's shy." You say, chuckling at her. 

"Am not," she protests, though her sheepish grin sells her out.

"Prove it," you challenge, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Teasing her is one of your favorite pastimes. 

Tired of the games, she gathers all of the courage she possesses and stands, slowly sauntering her way over to you. Your eyes take in the sight of her, and she smirks; she works hard to stay in shape, and she knows she looks good. Countless weeks spent at sea, working alongside her crew on long voyages has left her with artfully tanned skin and a physique to die for. You go to compliment her, but she stops you before you have the chance, pressing a finger to your pursed lips. She trails it lower, blazing a path across your jawline and chest, stopping at your ribs. Your breath hitches, and she definitely feels it. You curse yourself for being so easy, already knowing what's coming. 

"Who's shy now, sweetheart?" She purrs out, smiling victoriously. 

How she's capable of switching demeanors so easily baffles you, but it ensures that no interaction with her will be boring, if nothing else. 

"Yeah, yeah," you grumble, pushing her away to break the growing tension. She's looking at you with some glint in her eye that you can't quite place -- all you know is that if she keeps doing it, things might escalate to a place neither of you are prepared for.

You clear your throat and step around her to adjust your clothes on the drying rack. "You can go ahead and sleep. I'll stay awake and keep the fire going."

She nods with a slight frown on her lips, though you don't see it. "Alright. But wake me up when you get too tired, okay?" You assure her you will, though truthfully your body is aching for sleep right now. The beating you took earlier did its worst on you, leaving your skin bruised and muscles knotted. She deserves to rest, though, and you're okay with giving her the first shift of it. Besides, your mind would surely keep you awake for the better part of an hour -- at least it'll be used to its fullest with her. 

What you don't realize, however, is that when she lays down beside you, cuddling into the sorry attempt for a bedroll that you threw together, she merely pretends to fall asleep. Likewise, when she settles her head in your lap, searching for a more comfortable place to lay it, she's fully conscious. She lazily smiles when you run your hands through her hair, wrapping the locks around your fingers in mindless patterns before releasing them and starting over. It's soothing, and soon enough she calms her eager heart enough to slip away to dreamland. 

--- A Few Days Later --- 

"Wakey wakey…" Rosé sing-songs, hovering over you. The two of you have settled into this familiar rhythm over the past few days, spending the daytime searching for food and supplies and taking shifts to sleep through the night. You've almost always ended up taking the latter opportunity, though sometimes Rosé would force you to rest first if you needed it badly enough. 

"Mmm," you groan in disapproval, rolling over. The sun is far too bright, and your upgraded bed situation is much too comfortable to offer any valid reason for you to leave it. Rosé knows how difficult it is to get you up, but she's learned some very useful tactics. 

"Y/N…" she drawls, voice like honey as it releases your name with care. Her lips are next to your ear, teasing you as her warm breath fans across your neck. You audibly swallow, not prepared for that in the slightest, and slowly peek your eyes open. She raises a hand to shield your face from the unforgiving sun, and you smile at the domesticity of the act. She looks like a dream -- her hair is fanned out, swaying peacefully in the calm breeze that rolls in from the sea, and she's grinning that killer smile down at you. Her previous sunburn has turned into a tan now, making her look even more irresistible somehow. 

"What do you want to do today?" You ask, lacing your fingers together as you put them behind your head. They work as a cradle, cushioning your head from the sand.

"I saw some berry bushes on the north side of the island. They didn't look like any poisonous kind I've studied about, so maybe we could check them out?" She suggests, sitting back on her knees with a quirked brow. 

"Sounds like a plan." You smile lazily, gazing up at her. A light pattern of freckles paints her cheeks, and you can't help but grin at how adorable she is. 

"What is it?" She asks skeptically, squinting at you. 

"You're just too cute for your own good, is all." You sigh, content as you stand up and tug a blushing Rosé behind you. She closes the "door" behind herself, sealing off the entryway to your humble abode. It's a panel of leaves and sticks, built to be sturdy yet lightweight and easy to move. She built it herself, and a sweet smile works its way onto her lips as she remembers the praise you sent her way after she presented it to you. 

--------

"If you don't slow down then I'm gonna slap you," she says, peering up at the trees that loom high overhead. In her distracted state, she neglects to look where she's going.

Her rambling is cut short by your hand darting out in front of her, effectively stilling her movements and words. You glance at the ground, prompting her eyes to follow the path they made and widen upon realizing what you just saved her from. An animal -- some wretched cross between a scorpion and pincher beetle -- continues its trip across the downed log that lays in front of you, menacing in its appearance. 

"Thank you," she breathes out, leaning into your side as you hold her and direct her away from danger. 

"Do me a favor and don't die, okay?" You quirk, scrunching your face up at her humorously. She shoves you, holding up her middle finger as she walks ahead and blazes a path for the two of you. You chuckle, grinning stupidly as you follow after her. 

--- 3 Hours Later --- 

"Take cover," you shout to an imaginary army, seeking refuge behind the base of a large tree. Rosé chuckles maniacally from behind one of the berry bushes, her fingers lightly stained from the juices that are running down her palm. 

"Nice try, Y/N. But you can't escape… CAPTAIN ROSÉ!" She shouts, surprising you as she charges in your direction, pelting you with berry after berry. You squeal, evading as many of the makeshift missiles as you can by darting behind different greenery. She eventually catches up, snaking her arms around your waist and preventing you from getting away again.

"NO!" You exclaim, slumping further into her arms in defeat after your attempts to escape prove futile. She spins you around to face her, pressing your back up against the nearest tree as the two of you practically double over with laughter. She looks ethereal, with how she shines in the sunlight that sneaks its way through the canopy of tree tops above you. Her eyes are almost closed from how hard she's smiling at you. 

A sharp growl breaks the happy moment, perking your ears up and causing your heart to race for a different reason entirely. You glance around the tree, protectively stepping in front of Rosé to shield her from any new threat. An animal -- something you've never seen before -- bares its teeth, snarling aggressively as it sets its sights on you. Your blood runs cold in your veins, stopping your heart momentarily as your brain attempts to formulate a plan on the fly. With only a few precious moments left before it attacks, you glance around for anything to double as a weapon without making any sudden movements. 

Rosé is clutched onto you from behind, and you can feel her heart beating wildly. You have to protect her, no matter what. 

"On my count, I want you to climb into this tree. I'm going to try and defend us." From what little knowledge you've inferred in the past couple minutes, you doubt the animal is capable of climbing well; it doesn't have the body or feet for it. You fear it is capable of running quickly, though, so the tree is likely your best bet. 

"What? No, I'm going to--"

"Roseanne, please, for once, just do as I ask. Trust me." You plead over your shoulder, noting the slight tremble that runs through her as another roar echoes out. Your eyes remain trained on it, never backing down for a second. 

One steadying breath later, you shout, "Now!" and swoop down to pick up what helpful materials you can. You charge at the animal, taking the offensive in order to keep as much distance possible between it and Rosé. You successfully jab the sharpened stick into its side, causing it to wail in pain. In an instant it grabs your arm, wrapping it's paws around you as it lunges forwards and tumbles to the ground on top of you. A scream leaves your lips as you watch its teeth dig further into your flesh, garnering deep crimson blood to spill from your developing wounds. You protect your neck with your other arm, only breaking this rule to reach to your side and retrieve the heavy rock you brought along as well. It connects with the side of the animal's head, only making it whimper before loosening its grip the slightest bit. You weren't prepared for it to be such a tough enemy. You use your strength to roll it over and sit on top of it, keeping your arm in its grip to ensure that it stays occupied. Your fingers dig into every sensitive part of its body you can reach, performing the defense moves you've spent your life practicing to use. With a glance at Rosé, you find her safe in the tree, just like you wanted. 

"Run!" You shout, willing to keep the creature distracted in order to give her time to escape. Before you can see if she listens to you, it's nails claw into your abdomen, scratching painful designs into the previously smooth skin. It performs another death roll, and you barely have the strength to shank it in the side again. It howls, rearing back to go for your jugular before its movements are abruptly cut short. An unsettling crack rings out above you, and you open your eyes after not receiving the fatal blow you had been expecting. The animal scampers away from you, limping off further into the forest until it's out of sight. 

Rosé drops the large branch in her hand, the end of it lightly stained with blood. "Go..." you weakly mumble, eyes beginning to flutter closed as you notice how much blood you've already lost. You feel cold, and you have to fight the shiver that runs through you.

"I've got you, Y/N." She whispers, cradling your fragile frame in her arms as she picks you up and begins the journey back to camp. "You did good." She reassures, having no idea how much you needed to hear that before falling unconscious. 

---------

After gathering the medicinal plants and resources that the two of you have accumulated so far, she returns to the fireside, settling down beside you. She raises your shirt enough to have access to your wounds, but not far enough to expose you. Temperate water meets your bloodied and broken skin, rushing over the sensitive areas as she gently cleans them. Once dry, she mixes the materials into a sort of salve to rub on them before laying the plants on them in place of bandages. 

The crackling of the fire works with the crashing of distant waves to serve as background noise, making the night far more peaceful than the day had been. She allows you to continue resting, knowing you need all of it that you can get. 

About an hour or so later you wake with a start, hands reaching out as if you were right back in front of the animal. Your dreams were plagued with images of the nightmarish beast, and you're having trouble adjusting to the fact that they were all in your head. They felt so real. Rosé is by your side in an instant, brushing your hair out of your face with one hand while caressing your thigh with the other -- it's one of the only places that made it out of battle relatively unscathed. Your panicked eyes find hers, glazed over with tears as you pull her flush against your body, glad to know she's okay. Her warmth reminds you that she's here, that she's real, and that she's safe. 

Memories of your fight come flooding back, filling your mind with the terrifying things you witnessed and reigniting your fight or flight response. You remember that she didn't listen to you -- she put herself in harm's way instead of leaving you behind, like you asked -- and you grow angry. Muttered phrases of disapproval leave your lips as you push her away, stumbling slightly when you try to stand on your own. Although confused by your erratic behavior, she reaches out to assist you, only to be met with a harsh refusal from you. 

"Stop!" The word comes out as an angry shout -- louder than you originally intended -- but you can't find it in yourself to apologize right now. You find your footing after a moment, holding your side as you walk away from her. 

"What's your problem?" She shouts, marching after you. She refuses to let this go without a fight, seeing as how she has plenty more questions than answers now.

"You could've gotten hurt, Rosé, and I could've handled it on my own." You say over your shoulder, continuing on your journey away from camp. Her relentlessness is quickly getting on your nerves.

"Clearly you couldn't! You needed help; why are you denying that?" She stops now, crossing her arms angrily with her brows furrowed. The fact that you're still so set on clinging to your pride is pissing her off. 

"You should've left me there! I can't have you getting hurt because of me." You turn around now, setting your jaw. Is she really this blind? This has nothing to do with your pride. Her eyes meet yours, the pools overflowing with confusion as they scan over your face in search of clarification.

"I can handle something happening to me; I've made my peace with that. But if something ever happened to you because of my incompetence…" you shake your head at the mere thought of that, momentarily too overwhelmed to continue, "...I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I care about you, idiot." You add that last line before turning around, not bothering to wait on her reaction. Part of you is scared to, honestly, and the day has been far too eventful for you to handle a potential rejection on top of everything else. 

She says nothing, leaving the air around you void of her beautiful voice, and you don't know whether to be thankful or disheartened. 

You put more distance between the two of you, leaving a stunned Rosé in your wake as you find a place to sit along the shoreline. Your temper -- more precisely, the fear you hold that presents itself as anger -- reared its head tonight. You didn't mean to snap at her like that, but the possibility of her getting hurt because of you makes your blood boil. That would be unforgivable, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. You felt helpless earlier, quickly running out of the strength required to keep her safe.

Salty tears manage to break past your line of defenses, much like Rosé has managed to do with your heart. She's torn down every wall you've ever put up to protect yourself, and now that she's there you don't know how to cope. You've had people you considered close before, but none of them have mattered like she does. You've never been so afraid of losing someone. 

A soft hand on your shoulder makes you jump slightly, pulling you from your thoughts. Speak of the devil.

"Hey." She says simply, sitting down beside you. You turn your face away, not wanting to let her see you cry. "I'm sorry for fighting, okay? But I'm not sorry for helping you. I care about you, too, and I'll be damned to just leave you like that." She doesn't say anything else, doesn't try to make you look at her -- she just sits there, waiting for you to be ready to do so on your own. 

She's waited on you since you were teenagers, so she figures she's capable of waiting a bit longer now. Both of you are aware of the love you hold for one another; this is just the hardest part -- finally admitting it. 

"I can't lose you," you whisper, eyes full of tears that occasionally roll down your cheeks once gravity finds its footing. You turn to the front, still too emotional to look into her eyes. 

"Ditto. That's why I did what I did." 

Your knees are raised and pulled in close to your body for security, your arms wrapped around them to keep them in place. She reaches over to rest her hand on yours, wordlessly coaxing you into looking at her. 

"I…" You pause, voice breaking with the emotions you're still reeling from. 

"I know." She says, resting her forehead against yours. 

"I love you, too." 

She pulls you in, making sure to be gentle and not injure you any further. She raises your head to press her lips against yours, tasting the faint hint of wildberry that still rests on them from earlier. It's slow and new, giving you a break from the intensity you've been dealing with the past few days. You tilt your head to the right, letting out a whimper as her fingers graze a bruised spot on your ribs. She gives you another peck before pulling away, determined to stop herself while she still can. You're addicting, and she already can't get enough of you. 

A beat passes between you, giving you time to sort the thoughts rushing around your mind. "I've always loved you." You admit, pulling back to look at her. Tears well in her eyes, shining brightly in the brilliant moonlight as they threaten to fall. 

"Ever since we commanded our own boats for the first time. Mine was better, of course," she laughs at that, smiling despite herself, "...but I knew you were different then. I've spent all these years being too stubborn to let myself have you." 

She takes your words in, her heart pounding victoriously in her chest at your confession. "I knew when we were still training together. You always made things better for me then; I was so thankful to know you. Even if we teased the hell out of each other." 

You grin at the countless memories that come to mind. "Do you remember that night at the docks, after we graduated from our classes?" She looks up, searching her memory vault. "When you kissed me?" She asks. You nod, looking down with a bashful smile. 

"I knew we wouldn't see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it count."

"You made it really hard to say goodbye, you know?" She says, her eyes softening as she looks at you. 

"I know. But you get half of the blame." 

She tuts at you, nudging you playfully. You hiss in pain, causing her to bring a hand up to cover her growing smile. "Oops. Sorry, not sorry." 

"If I wasn't hurting so bad I'd tackle you right now." 

"Oh, I'm so scared." She laughs, mocking you. 

"That's it," you declare, ignoring the pain that shoots through your body with all the moving you're doing. Her laugh practically heals you anyway, so it's not hard to push it from your mind. You press her into the sand, rolling over to straddle her hips and pin her hands above her head. 

"Woah, tiger. Don't hurt yourself." She raises her head as much as her restrained state will allow, coming dangerously close to your face. 

"You're such a dork." You tut, leaning in to capture her lips once more. She mumbles out a, "you love it, though" against you, and your heart can't help but soar. 

- A Few Weeks Later -

A soft melody rides along the airwaves towards your ears, persuading you to wake up from your cozy slumber. You cuddle further into Rosie's tempting embrace, smiling at the way she pulls you impossibly closer. Her throat wiggles as she hums out a familiar tune from your childhood -- one of the songs you used to dance together to. 

"You big softie." You coo, resting your chin on her chest to look into her eyes with a smile. She grins, finally peeking at you through her lashes. 

"Good morning, beautiful." She says, her accent coming through adorably. She pulls you up to her lips for a kiss before rolling you onto your back. 

You sigh as she leaves open mouth kisses to your neck, dragging her lips over the skin there lazily. She takes her time, leaving marks here and there to show the world who you belong to. Her hands skim over the warm skin of your abdomen, finally free of the intense wounds you've been recovering from. Only small scars are left now, serving as a testament to what you endured.

"Mmm, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." She chuckles at that, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder as her body shakes with laughter. 

"You're thinking about food while I'm kissing you?" She grins, propping herself up on her arm to look down at you lovingly. 

"What can I say? I'm a hungry girl." You kiss her cheeks, ghosting your lips over hers. "Although," you tease the corner of her mouth, "...you're looking pretty tasty right about now. I might just eat you instead." 

She squeals as you crawl on top of her, pretending to bite her skin as you tickle her sides. 

"I surrender!" She shouts, finally giving into you. You kiss her one last time before pulling away and practically dragging her out of the structure. 

"I'll get started on cooking the fish if you grab some water." You offer, rustling through your handmade crate for the skewers you use to prepare food. 

"Alright," she nods, kissing you on the cheek before grabbing your canteens and setting off towards the freshwater spring not far from camp. 

"Be careful!" You call out after her, smiling when she turns around to face you with her hands in the form of a heart. 

---------

"Good job baby. That was delicious." She compliments, leaning back against the log you use as seating beside the fire. She almost always opts to sit in the sand and rest against it for some reason, but you're long past questioning her at this point. Rosie's… unique. 

"They don't call me Chef Y/N for nothing." You quip, holding your head higher with a sense of self-importance. 

"They don't call you that anyway." 

"Hey," you pout, slapping the back of her head with no real force. "Let a girl pretend, would you?"

"Fine, my apologies." She smiles again, and you can't help but do the same. You've lost count of how many times she's made you laugh over these past few weeks, and although you hope to be rescued sooner rather than later, the thought of being stuck here with her for a while longer doesn't seem all that bad. 

"You're doing it again," she trails off, wiggling her voice up and down to tease you. 

"What?" 

"Looking at me like a lovesick puppy." Her eyes shine in the warm, tropical sunlight, pools of rich amber that you wouldn't mind getting lost in. They match the color of whiskey almost perfectly.

"Not my fault. Have you seen yourself?." She scoffs, but blushes nonetheless. You lean over to press a kiss to the top of her head affectionately. 

Your attention is stolen away all at once as you hear the words you've been imagining ever since you arrived on the island. "Land, ho!" Multiple voices bellow out in the distance, prompting you to search for their source. Collective cheering can be heard, and you swiftly stand -- as if that simple act will miraculously enable you to see better. 

"We're coming, Captain!" Jisoo, your second in command shouts, seemingly hanging off the bow of the ship -- your ship. A squad of others follows behind, maintaining a tight formation as they make their way to shore. 

"Us too, Captain!" Someone calls from one of the neighboring boats, apparently one of Rosé's crewmembers. She waves back excitedly, and you bite back the smile that tugs at your cheeks. 

Eventually they reach land.

"Y/N!" Your scout, Lisa, shrieks like a schoolgirl, running into your arms eagerly. She was the first friend you ever made during your training years, long before you met Rosé, and you were truly worried for her.

"Ah, Lisa. Jisoo." You look between the two of them proudly, glad to see them alive and well. "What happened?" 

"We managed to defeat Captain Crusty's men--" she stops to explain when she notices your brows furrowed in amused confusion, "--that's the nickname we gave the bandit leader. Anyway, we defeated them and repaired the ship enough to make it back to shore. They did some major damage, though." 

You nod, satisfied with their story, until you remember that they didn't come alone. You subtly motion your head to the other crew, and Jisoo gets the memo. "We found the rest of these pea-brains back at the docks and they insisted on coming along."

"Hey, it's not like we wanted to be stuck with you either!" Jennie, Rosé's second, hits back, defending herself and the rest of her crew. "If your moron captain would've listened to Rosé we wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't have lost anyone in the process." 

"Quiet," Rosé warns, stepping in front of her to block the two sides from each other.

Despite knowing it isn't technically your fault, Jennie's words do hold some truth. You feel guilty for all the senseless violence you could've potentially spared your people from enduring, and the what-ifs weigh heavily on your mind and heart. 

"So long as I'm still in charge, no one will disrespect Y/N or her crew. Are we clear? I won't take kindly to any of you going against me." It's a heavy warning, and her tone makes it clear that she'll be true to her word. They know better than to test her. Her eyes scan the group of misfits, all looking bewildered by her sudden change of heart. It must be a bit jarring for them, after being such bitter enemies with the others for so long. Regardless, scattered nods and grumbles of acceptance leave them before they all scurry away to get started on their tasks, looking like scolded children. 

You send Lisa and Jisoo along with the rest of your crew to go ahead and board again, seeing that you have no real equipment to pack up this time. It feels wrong to leave the island  -- the place that brought you back to Rosie and allowed you to open your heart to her -- without something to remember it by. So, with a whispered, "Wait here," you run back to camp to snatch something. 

You return soon after, a huge smile plastered on your face. "You're bringing our door?" She laughs, tilting her head at your strange choice. 

"Duh. Good to know your eyes still work, I was getting worried." You tease, giggling as she pinches you. 

"Come on baby; let's go. Last one there has to clean the poop deck." 

"Get back here!" She yells, chasing you into the chilly water with a smile. Whether she loses or not doesn't matter much to her -- she finally has you after all these years, and she can't wait to see where the future will take the two of you. 

[crispyjenkins]

Rexobi. I really just wanna see Rex and Obi-wan drinking together and complaining about the disaster that is Anakin Skywalker. They decide to team up to get anakin to calm the heck down and to talk about his feelings. Anakin doesn’t realize what’s going on but gets the idea he needs to play matchmaker with his master and his captain. He thinks he’s the smart one but he’s really not

(i have once again chickened out of your full prompt and instead give you the leadup to rexobi getting anakin to talk about his feelings. 

i uhhh may be unable to think of anything but a rexobi au à la this post by @norcumii and @dharmaavocado about roleswap-ish senior padawan obi hella vibing with this mutant clone that can’t get above the rank of captain even as an arc trooper because the kaminoans are Like That, and qui-gon is going spare, because between anakin somehow being allowed to be in charge of a whole battalion and obi-wan picking fights with every single seperatist leader, he and cody never get a moment of peace. and like. just obi and rex being dumbass 20 year olds trying to deal with a general/master like anakin in the middle of a war. i don’t have TIME for that though

thank you for the prompt as always, i think this is the only rexobi/obex prompt i’ve ever gotten and this ship is criminally underappreciated. like?? kadavo?? anyways here’s whatever this is)

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 Not for the first time, Rex wishes Kote were the one here dealing with this, because “how to comfort your favorite Jedi” hadn’t exactly been covered in ARC training – actually, Alpha probably withheld the information on purpose, the fucker.

  But Kote is on the other side of the galaxy with the 187th and just as upset they’re not here in Rex’s stead: it’s barely a month off General Kenobi returning to his own face, and Rex knows his vod would strangle the entire Senate if given even half a chance for deploying them separately on their general’s first mission back after the Hardeen... incident. 

  And Fett’s Ghost knows Rex’s own general is going to pitch a fit when he finds out Rex is here instead of taking leave like the rest of the 501st, but Kote certainly wasn’t about to let Kenobi go all the way to Alderaan unguarded so soon after his supposed death; and honestly, Rex would have been offended if they had asked anybody else to do it. Thankfully, Kenobi hadn’t seemed offended when Rex had shown up at the Jedi Temple’s flight hangar before he could take off; instead, he had been rather amused. 

  Even luckier, Alderaan is barely a day’s jump from Coruscant, so they don’t have to spend too much time awkwardly pretending that Rex hadn’t attended the man’s funeral in Kote's place (that he would have attended anyways), or that Rex doesn’t know Anakin hasn’t spoken to his former master since their debrief to the High Council about Cad Bane. Which Rex should absolutely not know in the first place, but Anakin is his friend, for better or for worse, and Ahsoka thinks her master airs far too many of his grievances to his captain.

  It isn't until their cruiser is making the descent over Alderaan that Kenobi finally addresses the tension between them, which only proves that Kenobi is well aware of it, but had put it off as long as he could. It's a humanising observation, that Rex wishes he could have had when he isn't the only vod in a ten mile radius that isn't the pilot, because at least then he wouldn't be the sole receiver of the soft smile Kenobi gives him as he joins Rex to wait by the shuttle's access hatch.

  Rex thanks his progenitor's laughing corpse he has his bucket on, because all he can do is stare. 

  "You are worried about Anakin," Kenobi says matter of factly, though not unkindly, and Rex lets out a breath that's almost a laugh. 

  "I promise I am far more discrete with my thoughts in the field, sir."

  Kenobi chuckles warmly, tucking his arms behind his back to watch the planet under them grow larger as they approach. "Do try not to worry so much, my dear, this will all resolve itself in time." 

  It's hard to stare right at his gentle assuredness, so Rex looks away. "You have far more faith in his ability to forgive than I, sir."

  That laugh strains at the edges. "Yes, well, I'm afraid some of my lessons seem to have been... lacking."

  Rex has regs carbon-printed on his brain, he knows that even without the direct chain of command, the soft push and pull of his relationship with Kenobi, the steady, serene growth of it, is... problematic, for so many reasons that he wouldn't know where to start. Not least of all is rank, how much more important a Jedi is than a replaceable CC-track washout, but, well, Rex had washed out for being too emotional, so it's not as if he's exactly unused to reacting to things inappropriately for a good little soldier.

  "It's not my place, sir," he murmurs, remembering Kadavo, remembering Umbara, remembering the hand Kenobi had laid on his shoulder for far too long after the Blue Shadow virus, and has Rex really been this gone since then? "just say the word and I won't mention it again. But just because Kote isn't here doesn't mean you have to... shoulder all of this alone."

  In fact, it's wildly not his place to make such an offer, however implicit, but that month on Kadavo did happen, and Rex isn't so self-deprecating to believe he  hadn't had a heavy hand in helping Kenobi make it out on the other side as well as he did. He doesn't think so little of the bond they had formed then, to believe that Obi-Wan is unaware of it. 

  Not when he smiles at Rex like that, like he's a warm cup of caf after a week in the trenches, like Rex is... worthy of such sincere affection. 

  As the shuttle settles around them and the pilot announces their arrival over comm, Obi-Wan simply says, "I did not for a moment believe I was, my dear."

-

  "You and Rex seem close."

  Normally Obi-Wan can feel Anakin coming from an entire corridor away, but he also knows Quinlan has been teaching him a few Shadow tricks, so he isn't entirely surprised when Anakin appears at his elbow in the empty bridge looking like a smug necu.

  Aside from eating firstmeal with Kote in the mess, Obi-Wan hasn't even seen Rex today, much less interacted with him: as he understands it, Rex is trying to round up the remaining 501st shinies that are running around the Negotiator, so Obi-Wan really doesn't know where Anakin had gotten that notion. Recently, at least. 

  Anakin rolls his eyes and scoffs, leaning back on the railing next to him and crossing his arms. "Please, Master, even Snips has noticed."

  Obi-Wan refrains from telling him that anyone with a modicum more self-awareness than him has noticed. Be that as it may, "This is one of those times where I truly don't know what you're trying to say, my dear: I have been close with Rex since he was in the 212th."

  It isn't even an exaggeration, that there had been... something between them before Anakin whisked Rex away to his own battalion after his knighting, though back then it had been nothing more than friendship. If he recalls correctly, and he does, the cleanup of the Ryloth capitol had been the first time since then that they had worked closely, while Anakin had been on the ground with the locals and Mace had been with General Syndulla, and Obi-Wan had found he still quite enjoyed the way they worked together. Their time on Naboo combating the Blue Shadow virus had only endeared the captain more to him —he does remember a slip in propriety in his relief that Rex had been rescued safely with Padmé and Ahsoka, a hand left too long on the captain's shoulder until Kote had called him away— enough that Obi-Wan had been both relieved and horrified that it was Rex there to support him on Kadavo.

  "Cody said Rex was the one to go with you to Alderaan; you sure nothing 'happened' while you were there?" Anakin chuckles to himself like he's being incredibly clever, like there isn’t a hickey visible over the collar of his under tunic.

  Obi-Wan raises a brow slowly and refrains from rolling his eyes. "Despite what you may believe, Anakin, not everyone leaps into committed relationships after life-threatening situations." Not that Alderaan had been life-threatening, it had actually been as close to actual leave as Obi-Wan has had the entire war.

  "Please, it took Padmé and I ages to–" 

  Anakin seems to swallow his tongue, then, face rapidly going purple, and it really is a miracle the entire Republic doesn’t know about his marriage; the GAR certainly does.

  Sighing, Obi-Wan checks the chrono and decides it isn't too early for another cup of tea. "If you have a specific question about my relationship with Captain Rex, I do wish you’d be direct, my dear."

  Anakin splutters. "Relationship?!"

  "Great Maker, Anakin, you’re easier to spook than a half-starved blurrg." He pats Anakin’s arm, his sonbrother floundering for anything other than abject confoundment, as Obi-Wan turns away from the bridge to go locate both tea, and his commander to hopefully finalise their newest mission orders. "Don't worry," he calls over his shoulder, "I'll actually let you come to the wedding, unlike someone."

  Not that Obi-Wan has any such plans, Maker knows he and Rex have yet to address their feelings in the first place, but he'd be lying if part of him doesn't want to conspire with the captain in question —and perhaps Ahsoka— to see just how far they could take this before Anakin realises they're stringing him along. 

 Remarkably, Rex is waiting by Obi-Wan’s office with a flimsi cup of tea and a harried smile that promised quite the day chasing after shinies, and Obi-Wan decides conning his former apprentice can wait.

Mando’a: vod/e — “brother/s”, “comrade/s”, “sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s”

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of blood and injury, cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: I didn’t post last week, so have two chapters! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme​​ @beskarhearts​​ @dincrypt​​ @honey-hi​​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00​​ @red-leaders​​ @zoemariefit​​

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The next few days passed in a haze of planning and training. You helped instruct the villagers in hand-to-hand combat alongside Cara and firearms training with Mando. When Cara asked why you happened to be proficient in both skills, you told her that working with the clientele you did occasionally necessitated self-defense. That was true enough.

After a day or two, however, you decided it was best to leave the blaster training up to Mando. You focused on assisting Cara, who was good company, and joined the crew that was constructing barricades and digging trenches.  

It was irritating to feel a tinge of jealousy at the comfortable way Mando interacted with Omera so soon after meeting her. She was beautiful and clever, welcoming and kind. You understood her appeal. Still, despite yourself, you were annoyed by their borderline flirtatious interactions.

You could practically feel Mando’s heart drop when Omera was the only villager to raise her hand when he asked the group who knew how to shoot. He looked like he might actually be in physical pain as he watched her hit the pan she was aiming for over and over in quick succession during target practice. He was visibly tense, holding his shoulders back uncomfortably far as he regarded her, deeply impressed.

You were honestly even a little nettled by easy relationship that had developed organically between Cara and Mando. Their connection was strictly platonic, but they acted like they’d been friends for years. 

Why is it so different with me?

Both of these developments were irritating, but what really drove you to avoid Mando was your frustration at yourself. This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get invested or attached—both because you’d part ways soon enough and because you were witnessing Mando get attached to someone else.

It was easy enough to limit your interactions with him during the day. You spent what little spare time you had playing with the kid and the gaggle of children that followed him around to squeal at every adorable flap of his ears, or wandering through the forest. You always stayed closed to village, but it was relief to get some time alone. As nice as it was to have regular company—something you’d wanted for so long—you also missed some aspects of your solitary existence. It was simple and comfortable. It was what you knew best.

***

At night, you made sure to stay away from the barn as long as possible so Mando could have plenty of time to eat and do whatever else he did with his helmet off.

Each night, you would approach the barn after dark had fallen, making sure to stomp loudly up the steps. You’d stand off to the side of the doorway and knock, waiting to hear the telltale sound of beskar dragging across the wooden windowsill and the subsequent hiss as he fit the helmet back over his head.

The fourth night, however, when Mando arrived back at the barn in the early evening, he stopped at the doorway.

You had stacked every box, crate, and stray item in a line down the center of the back half of the room to make a barrier that was as high as your shoulder. You’d hung a sheet across both sides, so you each had an enclosed space.

“I know it doesn’t fix it, but I thought it might make you feel better? I promise not to get up with out warning you... I know you’ll probably keep your helmet on anyways, but I have to imagine sleeping in it is killing your neck, and since you won’t let me figure out somewhere else to sleep, this is the best I could come up with,” you stopped rambling, punctuating the end of your sentence with a decisive nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

You were relieved—and slightly surprised—when later that night, after darkness had fallen and you were tucked under your blankets, hovering on the edges of sleep, you heard a hiss and a thunk, which you registered as him removing his helmet and setting it on the floor. It was slightly harder to fall sleep knowing that Mando was only feet away from you, helmetless.

The warmth that blossomed in your chest at this display of trust stayed with you well into the next day.

***

The next night, after a long day of training, you were back in the barn, getting cleaned up before bed. Mando, having just entered, was untying the knot in his cape. The kid was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, watching you and Mando with eager curiosity.

Seated on a crate, you pulled the necklace that was tucked under your shirt over your head, preparing to wash the sweat and grime of the day off you. You leaned over to stow it in a tiny zip pocket on the outside of your bag, when you felt a tug on the thin gold chain. You looked down at your hand, thinking the child must have tottered over when you weren’t looking. But, looking up, you saw that he wasn’t near you. He was still standing in his crib, and he whined at you, his tiny hand outstretched. He seemed concerned, his eyes squinted and forehead wrinkled in concentration.

You looked from the necklace in your hand to the kid and back.

“What the—?”

You glanced at Mando. He was watching you, the cape he was folding frozen in his hands. He dropped the cape and strode over to the crib to grab the child, hugging him tight to his chest. He turned to leave the barn, walking to the doorway. The child struggled against him, until his big ears and eyes appeared over Mando’s shoulder, a tiny hand stretched toward you again.

Curious, you opened your hand and straightened your arm, offering the necklace on your palm.

The baby’s face wrinkled in concentration once again. Mando was almost out the door when the necklace jerked out of your hand and flew across the room. The chain hooked on one of the kid’s tiny fingers. He grasped it, and the purple crystal at the end of it clinked distinctively when it collided with Mando’s pauldron. Mando stopped dead in his tracks.

Your jaw dropped. Mando whirled around, adjusting his grip on the child so he could see the necklace clutched in his tiny hand, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The baby was cooing and wiggling his ears in triumph. His other hand grabbed at the crystal.

Mando’s entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second. He stopped breathing and crossed the space between you in a few long strides, raising a hand to point a threatening finger at your chest.

“You can’t tell anyone.” The anger in his voice failed to conceal the fear underneath it, even through the modulator.

“I won’t.” You were absolutely bewildered by this development, but you’d never do anything that would endanger the child.

Mando stayed frozen like that, his hand outstretched. In his arms, the child tittered and cooed, examining the object clasped in his tiny hands.

“Mando, I promise. I won’t.”

He nodded, dropping his accusing hand, and looked down to gently extricate the necklace from the three-fingered hand it was wrapped around. You could see the reflection of the baby’s huge, imploring brown eyes in Mando’s visor. The baby let out a frustrated huff in protest and began to whine in earnest when Mando successfully disentangled the necklace.

He thrust it back into your hand, turned on his heel, and left.

The Mandalorian has a baby... Jedi? And he does not want to talk about it.

***

After two weeks of preparation, the day finally arrived. Tension was high among the villagers as the final arrangements were made. The plan was reviewed, and finally, the sun began to set. You and Mando headed back to the barn to gear up.

It only took a few minutes for Mando to grab all he needed. Slinging his rifle across his back, he walked toward the doorway and paused. He turned around to face you.

“We’re headed out. You’ll make sure the kid is safe with the others?” he asked.

“Of course. Be careful out there.”

“You too.” He gave you a curt nod and swept out the door.

You gathered what you needed, delivered the child to the building that was designated for children and a couple caretakers, and took your place with the villagers behind one of the barricades. You shared words of reassurance with those around you.

The night passed in a blur of adrenaline. You had been put in charge of one of two groups of the villagers who were capable of fighting. Omera led the other. Mando and Cara attacked the raider’s camp, drawing them out of the forest. The Klatooinians rushed the village, purposefully funneled to the open space between your group and Omera’s by the barricades, and the AT-ST stuttered into view shortly after.

The villagers were roughly trained soldiers, but in the end, it was enough to scare off the Klatooinians—especially once Mando and Cara managed to lure the reluctant walker into the trap, incapacitating their largest weapon.

Halfway through the fight, your blaster jammed, so you traded it for one you took off a dead Klatooinian. It was large and awkward in your hands, but it did the job well enough.

When the walker fell and the remaining Klatooinians turned tail, the villagers began to cheer, letting their guard down immediately. Mando and Cara disappeared into the woods after the retreating raiders to clear out any stragglers.

You scanned the dark scene from where you stood behind the krill ponds to ensure that every Klatooinian had left. When you turned back toward the village, you noticed an injured raider, who had been lying on the ground, lurched to his feet. He started towards Omera, who was kneeling beside an injured villager, tending their wounds, with her back to him. As he stood, he pulled a long knife from is belt.

“Omera!” you yelled. She looked around at the sound of her name and exclaimed when she saw the man charging her, only a few feet away. Her hands scrabbled along the ground around her, trying to locate her blaster. The other villagers in the vicinity, caught off guard, froze and watched in horror.

You fumbled with the safety on the unfamiliar blaster in your hands, feeling slow and awkward. Fuck.

You sprinted forward to position yourself between Omera and the Klatooinian, catching him off guard and meeting his face with the butt of the heavy blaster. He growled in pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he reeled back, slashing the air blindly with his blade. You took the chance to kick him in the stomach, putting all your weight behind it. He doubled over, but managed to throw out his arm as he stumbled backwards, just as you were drawing your leg back. You cried out in pain as his blade bit through the meat of your calf.

Omera, who had recovered behind you, shot the raider before he hit the ground.

You staggered back, breathing hard, and sat on the ground abruptly, gritting your teeth at the sharp pain. He’d cut deep into your muscle, leaving a laceration as long as your hand. Bacta would fix you well enough, but it hurt like a bitch. It was bleeding freely, thick droplets of blood running down your shin into your boot. Without thinking, you ripped your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your breast band, and wrapped it tight around your calf to staunch the bleeding. Several villagers rushed over to help you, but you waved them off, reassuring them that you had it under control.

Omera knelt beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for having my back,” she said genuinely.

You smiled at her and covered her hand with yours: “Anytime. Thanks for having mine.”

You heard the familiar clank of Mando’s armor behind you. He must have finished flushing out the nearby trees. He crouched next to you.

“What happened?”

“Knife wound. Not bad. I’ll be fine.”

Blood was rapidly soaking through the thick fabric of your shirt. Okay, I might need stitches.

“You need stitches,” Mando said, verbalizing your thought.

“Yeah.”

“I can do those for you,” Omera offered. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

She threaded a hand under your arm to help you to your feet. You started to get up.

“I got her,” said Mando, waving Omera away. She moved back.

You were too focused on the stinging pain of your leg to process what he meant. Mando got to his knees and leaned forward to slip an arm under the crook of your knees and one around your back. You flinched at the feeling of the cold beskar on your side.

“Mando, I can walk,” you protested, surprised, as he lifted you. You instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck, while your other hand held tight to the shirt around your calf.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

His chest plate was cold against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were surprised when he turned in the direction of the barn where the two of you slept, instead of toward the structure that had been designated for medical care. On the way there, he poked his head into the room where the kids were hidden. The child chirped happily up at the two of you from where he was seated in Winta’s lap. Satisfied, Mando turned to carry you the rest of the way to the barn.

If you weren’t exhausted and in pain, you’d probably be more acutely aware of how exposed you were in just your breast band in his arms. You would probably be enjoying the easy way he was carrying you.

He stepped onto the porch in one stride and strode inside, setting you down gently on your blankets. You lay back immediately, bending your injured leg to keep the pressure steady with a tight grip on your shirt. You closed your eyes, trying to not focus on the pain. You heard Mando rummaging around.

“My med pack is in my backpack,” you said. “Will you hand it to me?”

But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he already had his own med pack open on the floor next to you.

“I have anesthetic bacta spray. I’ll use that first so you don’t feel the stitches.” He held up an aerosol can to show you.

Knowing how expensive that was, you protested: “No, no, save that for something more serious. I’ll be okay. I’ve had stitches before.”

“It’ll be easier for me if I know I’m not hurting you,” he insisted, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“I can handle it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Will you just let me do it?” he asked, exasperated.

“Are you okay though? Don’t you have any injuries?”

“No. Beskar,” he replied, tapping his chest plate. “Just let me do it,” he pressed with an imploring head tilt.

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Thank you.”

He moved down to your calf, taking the shirt gently from your hands. When his fingers brushed yours, you registered that it wasn’t a glove you felt—his hand was bare.

You closed your eyes again, trying not to fixate on the feeling of his bare skin on yours. Plus, you still weren’t sure if seeing his bare skin would somehow violate his Creed.

He peeled back the fabric slowly. You winced.

“The worst of the bleeding has stopped,” he said, using the shirt to wipe away the drying blood on your skin. “I’m applying the spray.”

You nodded vaguely, then hissed through your teeth at the sting of cold spray on your leg, but the effects were immediate—the pain disappeared instantly, completely.

“Ah, fuck, I forgot how good that stuff is. I got so used to getting patched up without it.”

He let out a grunt of agreement. “Stay still.”

“I will.”

You glanced down at Mando, appreciating how out of place he looked, his large metal form crouched over your leg, administering precise medical care with careful movements.

Feeling like you were in good hands, with the pain gone, you let the fatigue overtake you. Your eyes drifted closed.

Sometime later—you weren’t sure how long in your hazy state—you felt Mando move beside you. You opened your eyes, and he was on his knees by your shoulder, his gloveless hand hovering a couple inches above your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to touch you. You gave him a sleepy smile, and in a sudden movement, he lowered his hand the rest of the way down to your bare shoulder.

I guess it isn’t against the Creed to reveal your skin to someone else.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you,” you replied, reaching up to pat the hand on your shoulder. You kept the gesture brief, concerned that your touch might prompt him to pull his hand away.

He didn’t.

His hands were softer than you were expecting.

“Rest,” he instructed. “I put water next to you.”

He stood to leave, the weight of his warm hand retreating with him.

You tried not to overthink how tender Mando had been with you. You didn’t want to process what it meant or the fact that it sort of left you swooning. Though, maybe that was the blood loss.

As you drifted to sleep, you thought about what the future might hold. It was a relief that the fight was over and the village was safe, but it also meant your job here was done and it would soon be time to leave Sorgan. You weren’t sure what this meant for your partnership—if you could really even call it a partnership—with Mando. Would you go your separate ways now?

It wasn’t until the next morning—when you were examining the precise row of stiches on your calf—that you realized, with great dismay, you’d exposed the scar on your chest to Mando, Omera, and a handful of other villagers.

***

The following evening was a celebration. The entire village stayed up late into the night eating, talking, and drinking in the long hall.

After dinner, you were five shots into a drinking game with Cara when Mando rejoined the two of you. You were drinking a clear liquor, something stronger than spotchka that you didn’t know the name of.

Mando sat down stiffly across from you, watching the two of you howl with laughter over a joke he’d missed.

“I was just here half an hour ago. How are you both already drunk?”

“We’re efficient,” said Cara in a mock-serious tone.

“You want to play, Mando? I could get you a straw,” you offered.

He tilted his head, and the sassiness of the gesture made you cackle.

Cara laughed heartily, slapping her hand on her thigh: “I guess that’s his way of saying he can’t handle his booze.”

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” he asked.

“We stopped worrying about the rules awhile ago,” you admitted.

“So who’s winning?”

“Me!” you declared, reaching for the half-empty bottle once again.

“I don’t know about that,” said Cara, skeptically, snatching the bottle and unsteadily pouring two more shots. She handed one to you.

“Maybe you guys have had enough,” Mando said, reaching out to take the glasses from Cara.

“Maybe you’re not the boss of us,” you sassed, knocking his hand out of the way and tipping the proffered shot down your throat. You were drunk enough that it didn’t burn anymore.

“We’re celebrating, Mando!” Cara proclaimed before she downed hers too, and you both laughed at the long-suffering sigh that Mando let out.

A woman that Cara had been spending most of her free time with sauntered over to your table and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Cara smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she said, standing and taking the woman’s hand.

“Have fun,” you said, winking.

“You too,” she shot back.

You turned to Mando: “Welp, looks like you’re my new drinking buddy.”

He sat silent, helmet following Cara and the other woman as they left the hall.

“Oookay, then. I’m going to bed.” You slapped your palms onto the table and pushed yourself up. 

Mando followed you as you stepped out into the cool night.

“Where’s the kid?” you asked.

“Asleep already.”

“That’s good. Babies need sleep.”

“He’s fifty.”

You turned to Mando, spluttering, “Fifty?!”

“Different species age differently,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, no shit... Still, that’s crazy. You have a fifty-year-old toddler. Your baby is older than you...I mean, I assume so. I don’t know how old you are. If I had to guess, I would say... Is that rude? I probably shouldn’t guess...”

Not paying attention, you started wandering in the wrong direction, and Mando laid a guiding hand on your lower back.

“Come on,” he sighed, directing you toward the barn.

You pushed out the loudest, most dramatic sigh you could muster, and he looked down at you.

“That’s you. That’s what you sound like. You looooove sighing, you know that? It’s your favorite thing, second only to the kid. You might like it even more than the kid, actually,” you mused, making yourself chuckle.

“You’re a chatty drunk,” he observed.

“Everyone is chatty compared to you, Mando.”

He grunted.

“What are you like when you’re drunk? I want to see that. Do you even drink?” You stopped walking, and he did too, visor trained on you.

“Sometimes.”

“I bet you’re a nice drunk.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, no, I know so. Because secretly you’re a nice not drunk person so I bet you’re an extra nice drunk person.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that your usual verbal filter was completely gone. Oh well.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, you pretend to be all scary with your sexy voice and your blasters and your bounty hunting and your fire bracelet and your shiny outfit, but really you are soft, and you love babies and helping people and carrying injured friends.”

“My sexy voice?” He titled his head suggestively.

“Really? That’s what you took from that?” You hiccupped. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what your voice sounds like. This is the way.” You hit him with your best Mando impression.

He chuckled.

Your mouth fell open, and you pointed up at him, incredulous. “You laughed.”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t do it too much or I might start to think that you’re a real human being under all that.” You gestured at his beskar.

“We wouldn’t want that,” he said, and you both started walking toward the barn again.

“Look at you, making jokes.” You tripped slightly, and Mando steadied you.

“My boot is untied,” you announced, flopping onto the ground unceremoniously to tie it.

Mando set his hands on his hips and leaned down to watch you.

You held a palm up to him. “Before you do it, I’ll sigh for you,” you said, letting out another exaggerated exhale.

He crouched down in front of you and batted your hand away, pulling your laces tight to knot them.

“You’re trying my shoe,” you said stupidly.

“Yeah, because you’re taking too long.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I am perfectly capable of getting back by myself. You can go to bed.” You waved dismissively in the direction of the barn.

“I’m not going to leave you out here drunk and alone.”

“See.” You tapped a finger against his chest plate. “Soft.”

“I guess so.”

“Andddd, I think you still feel the need to babysit me because you don’t trust me.”

He looked up at you. “That’s not true.”

“Convincing.”

He shook his head and stood up. You reached out both hands, and he gripped them, pulling you to your feet.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, replacing his hand on your back.

“Oh, it’s good. You make very tiny, very neat stitches. I was impressed. I assume you’ve had lots of practice.”

He hummed.

You hiccupped again.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you scowled up at him. “I’m not even that drunk.”

He pushed your shoulder lightly, and you stumbled.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Proved my point though.”

Putting all your weight behind it, you shoved his arm as hard as you could in retaliation. He didn’t falter. Taking a different tack, you snaked a hand under his arm and tickled his unarmored side. He leaped away from you.

“WHY!?” he grunted.

“You’re ticklish!” you announced triumphantly.

“No. I’m not.” But he was careful to stay more than an arm’s distance away from you.

“Yes, you are! But don’t worry, I will take your secret to my grave,” you promised solemnly, placing a hand over your heart. “It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone knew the greatest bounty hunter in the parsec could be bested via tickling.” Your voice cracked, and you dissolved into giggles.

Mando halted and turned to you, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Oh, Mando, lighten up. I’m just teasing you.”

In two decisive steps, Mando closed the distance between you, crowding you backward. You looked up at him, surprised, unable to get a read on him. “I didn’t mean—.”

In one swift movement, he hauled you over his shoulder.

“Hey!!”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around the back of your thighs. You surrendered quickly, going limp. His pauldron dug uncomfortably in your stomach, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.

“That is the second time you’ve laughed in the last five minutes. Are you feeling okay? Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury yesterday?” you asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’m starting to think you might have.”

“Hilarious. You know, I could still tickle you like this,” you threatened, trailing a hand down his side.

“Not if you don’t want me to drop you,” he warned, jolting you slightly to demonstrate.

You huffed. “You can’t just cuff me or pick me up any time I’m inconvenient. That’s not how friendship works.”

“I think it works well for us,” he said as he climbed the steps to the barn.

***

The following two weeks were a period of peaceful recovery and restoration. You, Mando, and Cara helped the village return their home to normal—disposing of the dead raiders, breaking down the AT-ST, taking down the barricades, filling in the trenches. Every day, as there was less and less to do, you wondered when Mando would broach the topic of leaving. You had a feeling he, like you, was also putting it off for as long as possible. You were enjoying the easy routine you’d fallen into, spending time with the kid, Mando, Cara, and Omera; you’d happened into a community and were loath to leave it.

You were seated on the porch of the barn, watching the clouds roll slowly across the sky, when you noticed Mando making his way over.

As he walked toward you, you admired (not for the first time) the way the soft, green light of Sorgan danced across the surface of his beskar. You looked him up and down surreptitiously, wondering if he’d always worn such an elaborate outfit or if it had evolved over time. You knew the armor at least had been replaced. But had he always worn a cape? And like three layers of clothes? And the sash-like bandolier? You weren’t familiar enough with Mandalorian culture to know if they strapped all of that on as kids or if they donned the armor at a certain age...or how any of it worked.

Your eyes paused at his middle. Weren’t utility belts usually worn lower, on the hips? Not cinched closer to the trimmest part of the waist? It did seem to secure the softer part of his armor that covered his stomach, so maybe it had to be positioned there. The idea that Mando had thought about his silhouette when donning his armor was absurd... but something told you that it was not impossible. Honestly, you hoped the belt was just as much for fashion as it was for function because that was too funny. The man wears a cape... it is definitely possible that more than one part of his outfit is both aesthetic and practical.

You definitely weren’t complaining. You enjoyed the view.

You wondered if he fully understood the nature of his effect on people. He was acutely aware of how intimidating he could be; he wielded that advantage liberally and expertly, but you were unsure if he was aware of his appeal. It wasn’t just you who was drawn to him in that way—Omera, for one, was immediately taken with him. And you saw how others in the cantina that first day, or in the Sorgan public house, or even here in the village trailed their eyes down his body when he wasn’t looking.

Your face burned slightly at the memory of telling him he had a sexy voice. You were grateful you hadn’t admitted anything more embarrassing, and that he hadn’t brought it up again. To your relief, that night of joking with him had shifted things slightly—he’d been a little more relaxed around you since.

Mando walked up the steps and leaned on the wall of the barn, joining you on the porch. He glanced down at you.

“How was your patrol?” you asked.

“Good, no sign of any raiders.”

You nodded and let silence hang between you for a long moment.

“That fight was too much action for a backwater town like this though—word travels fast and it’s been a couple weeks. We should cycle the charts and move on.”

Your eyes found the child, who was seated amidst a group of children in the middle of the village. He looked so happy, giggling and playing outside in the sun. Krill flopped on the ground around him.

“I know you’re right, but the idea of taking him away from this place is... hard to think about. He’s so happy here.” You nodded your head toward the baby.

Mando heaved a sigh. He stared forward as he said, “I’m leaving him here. Traveling with me—that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe—”

You were shocked.

“Your job, Mando? Your job was to turn in an innocent child for a bounty, and you knew that was wrong, so you didn’t. After that, he became your responsibility, not just a job.” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You looked away from him, suddenly cold. He said nothing.

“I don’t understand you. You flip flop between being heartless and being caring. How do you go from saving him to leaving him in some random village? He’s attached to you. Please, explain it to me because I don’t understand.” You made no effort to hide the venom that was seeping into your voice, as every frustration you’d felt toward Mando over the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface at once.

You looked up at him. His helmet was trained on your face.

“He’ll get over it. We all do.”

You glared up at him.

“Why don’t you stay here with him? You could settle down with Omera. You know she wants you to stay.”

“She asked me to stay, but I don’t belong here.”

“You could if you wanted to. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a choice.”

You stood and walked away, leaving him on the porch. You couldn’t stand to look at his infuriatingly blank mask for one more second.

You stomped all the way to the forest’s edge and passed under the cover of the trees. You walked until you reached a clearing surrounded by chest-high berry bushes and began to pace back and forth.

What is he thinking?

How could he do that to the child?

How could he just leave him like that?

You knew it didn’t make sense that you would have a say in what happened to the kid, but you couldn’t help the fact that you’d grown attached to them both over the past several weeks. You wanted Mando to be the man you suspected he was—soft and kind-hearted. You didn’t want him to confirm that the moments of selflessness had been outliers, and he was really the ruthless bounty hunter that he looked like on the outside.

But...he was right that his life was not the best life for a child. You thought about your own lonely, unsettled, nomadic existence—not unlike Mando’s. Except, his life also included regular violence in a way that yours hadn’t in a long time. His life would be even worse for a child than yours.

And it made sense that he wasn’t willing to abandon his entire way of life, everything he knew to stay on Sorgan. That was a lot of ask of anyone. He didn’t ask for this.

You’d come out here to calm down but had only made yourself more irritated now that you’d come to the annoying conclusion that Mando was probably right. You huffed.

The threatening crunch of twigs off to your left brought you back to the present moment. You crouched amidst the bramble of berry bushes.

You watched through the tangle of branches as a figure made their way carefully through the forest. They were carrying a long rifle, their face concealed in a mask.

A bounty hunter. A tracking fob blinked in their hand.

Who is their target? The kid? Me? No, it can’t be me. The fob isn’t beeping fast enough. Mando? Cara? Probably the kid. The thought made your heart squeeze.

You stood silently to follow, keeping a safe distance behind them.

The hunter stopped at the edge of the forest, where the view of the village was clear, and set up the sniper rifle on a boulder. You waited to see where the sight was trained before making your move.

Sure enough, the scope was aimed at the baby, who was sitting on the ground beside a krill pond with Winta. Omera was standing in the water, submerging a basket, beside them.

You rushed forward, raising your blaster to the back of the hunter’s head, and pulled the trigger. Birds screeched and took off into the sky in response to the sound.

You smashed the tracker fob under the heel of your boot before rushing back to the village, knowing the ringing shot would have incited panic.

As you sprinted back to the village center, you spotted Mando. He was standing close to Omera, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. The child was held tight in his other arm. Winta was hugged against her mother’s stomach. They looked like a family, the way they were huddled together.

When Mando saw you, he dropped his hand from Omera’s shoulder.

“What happened?” He looked you up and down, inspecting you for any signs of injury.

“There was a hunter in the woods. I took them out. They had a fob for the kid, Mando. They know he’s here,” you panted.

Neither of you spoke, sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You reached over to lightly stroke the kid’s ear. He cooed up at you.

“What does this mean?” asked Omera.

“It means that he isn’t safe here,” responded Mando. The pain in his voice was clear, even through the modulator.

Omera reached out for Mando’s hand, and he took hers for a moment, squeezing it gently before letting it drop.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He nodded stiffly. “Me too.”

You and Mando both turned to head to the barn at the same time. As you walked beside him, you looked over to find his helmet trained on you.

“I—uh, I owe you an apology. This would be a great place for any child to grow up—safe, loving. I get why you wanted to leave him here. I’m sorry that he won’t be able to stay now.”

Mando reached his hand out, as if to touch your arm, then thought better of it and let it fall to his side.

“You know, I actually did turn him in for the reward,” he admitted. “That’s how I got enough beskar for the new armor.” He gestured at his chest plate, hanging his head slightly, ashamed.

You looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I regretted it right away and went back for him. That’s when I ran into you. Or, I guess, you ran into me. ” He let out a small huff of a laugh.

You grimaced, remembering the pain of slamming into his back.

“I understand why you were mad,” he continued. “But, I didn’t want to leave him here. I’m still trying to work out what’s best for him, but I know it’s not staying with me forever.” The thread of grief in his voice was pronounced.

You nodded in understanding, wishing you could somehow help him carry this profound responsibility. You weren’t sure how to express that, or if he wanted to hear it, or if it was your place to say it, so you settled on something else: “He’s easy to get attached to.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

You smiled at him, and you couldn’t be sure, of course, but you felt like he was smiling back at you.

***

You said your goodbyes and readied yourselves for departure. While you hugged the kids and packed your things, you thought about your next move.

A stubborn, cold part of you wanted to tell Mando to drop you off at the closest planet with a major port. You didn’t like that after just a few weeks, you were getting emotionally attached to the pair. It would be easier, safer, less complicated to return to your solitary existence. Plus, your continued presence added to the risk they already faced. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The quieter, more truthful part of you wanted to stay with him and the child. It was a relief to not be alone all the time, but this was supposed to be a loose, short-lived alliance, not something that made your heart squeeze slightly when you thought about eventually going your separate ways.

You told yourself you’d wait until he brought it up, see what he wanted, and go from there.

You, Mando, and Cara stood at the speeder, ready to leave. Everyone in the village was there to see you off. After a few final goodbyes, Mando and Cara jumped into the speeder. You handed the baby to Mando.

You were about to grab the edge of the speeder to haul yourself up when he reached down to offer you a gloved hand. You accepted. The gesture didn’t surprise you—he was generally polite by nature. What did surprise you was the steadying hand that moved to your waist as you stepped carefully over crates and supplies to find a seat. He squeezed your side gently before letting you go.

***

You had prepared yourself for a conversation that never came.

As you were leaving the atmosphere of Sorgan in the Razor Crest, Mando turned to you to ask, “What are you thinking for our next move?”

He flicked some switches and pressed a few buttons on the console, and a holo-map of the area flickered into view in front of him. A constellation of planets hovered before your eyes.  

***

Chapter 5

[whump-a-la-mode]

this is such a general thing but defiant villain whumpee slowly breaking pls :)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this is slow enough. It's not exactly the traditional whumpee breaking, but I hope it's interesting nonetheless! Feel free to send in another ask if you want something different ^^

CW//Talk of mass destruction, sleep deprivation torture, brief pet whump mention, forced to eat gross food

"It's over."

There was a weariness to the newscaster's voice-- the kind that those in the profession were never meant to display. The sheer essence of bone-deep exhaustion. A body squeezed dry of adrenaline, until fight or flight turned to fatigue.

But, the fight was won.

"For the last three days, we have been running twenty four hour coverage of the battle occurring downtown. The battle began when Villain's forces attempted to overrun an R&D lab, following the occupation of their original headquarters by our city's heroes.

The destruction has been uncountable. But, it's over.

After a final assault at three in the morning, today, the last of Villain's personal guard fled the stronghold, and were taken into captivity. An hour later, the menace themself was captured.

It's over.

What exactly will be done with Villain is unclear, but Leader has assured us that appropriate measures have been prepared for their secure containment.

As for us? At long last, goodnight Metropolis."

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"And good morning, sleepyhead."

Villain could not help but wince as light washed over them in a boiling wave-- the warmth of darkness torn away from them-- as the back doors of the truck were swung open.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life." They snapped back, hoping the venom in their voice reached its recipient, standing at the truck's mouth.

Hero.

Of course, of all people, their welcoming committee had to be fucking Hero. The biggest asshat Metropolis had to offer. The worst, most stupidly noble, stupidly loyal, stupidly-

Their fury reached a boiling point to which enraged thoughts turned incoherent. It did not matter why they hated the idiot standing before them. It mattered only that anger alone made their veins feel as though they were overflowing with magma.

"Am I?" The noble fool cocked their head to the side, mocking and arrogant. "Or are you just upset that you've lost?"

"You think I've lost?" Villain let out a hearty chuckle. "All this effort, and you've caused me a minor setback, at most."

"Well, which one of us in the cage?"

They narrowed their eyes to slits. Hero was right. They were both staring through the bars of a cage, but Villain was very much the one contained. It was a tiny, steel construction. Large enough to stand up in, and take one step in each direction, but such was all.

Loaded into the back of a truck like some kind of zoo animal. They wanted to scream!

But, unlike the heroes, they could hold back.

"Me staying here to amuse you does not equate to defeat, Hero."

"Is that all you're doing? Humoring me?"

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

"Plenty." They smirked. "For one, sitting in the back of a truck for fourteen hours doesn't exactly seem like something you'd do to humor me."

Fourteen hours...

"Have you considered that I'm simply playing a long game?"

"It'll be the longest game of your life, then. Don't plan on getting out of here anytime soon. Or, y'know, ever. That's kind of the whole point."

"You really think you can hold me forever?"

"Oh, I know so. If you knew what was coming for you, you wouldn't be taking this so lightly."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, give me a donut and tell me to hug this whole thing out?"

Hero chuckled, at that.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

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"You're sure this will work?" Leader cocked a brow, hoping that the teeth marks in their lower lip weren't visible. It was a nervous habit, chewing like that.

"Certain." Scientist had a chipper tone to them-- a student having solved a math problem. "We've been developing this method for months. Trust me, they have no chance."

"None?"

"None. Even better, this technique is more than a simple containment method. It has a progressive weakening effect. Within a few months, they'll be like putty in your hand."

"You know we're talking about Villain here, right?"

"Precisely!"

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Villain had expected high security.

Of course they had. They'd quite frankly expected something ridiculous. A cell suspended over a pit of lava. Or a shark-infested pool. Or maybe they'd simply contain them through the power of sedatives.

None of the options sounded particularly enjoyable. But, all three sounded better than the room they stood in front of at that moment.

Six guards stood around them, each heavily armed, and not afraid to display this fact. Two stood on either side of them, each holding a chain attached to one of the twin manacles that adorned both their wrists-- they'd expected handcuffs, but two shackles per wrist seemed a little excessive. The two remaining guards stood with one in front and one behind. Their chains were those connected to Villain's feet. One tug, and they'd be face-first on the tile.

The restraints didn't make them want to flee any less. Not when they saw that room. Even chained as they were, they squirmed at the very sight of what stood before them.

It was rather large, though not ostentatiously so. Though, its size was accentuated by the complete lack of furniture lining the walls.

No. There were only two things inside the chamber.

The first stood at the center. A massive, metal ring, perhaps ten feet in height and the same in width. Four cylinders of the same material extended into the circle's center, looking terribly like hungry mouths.

One for each wrist, one for each ankle.

They were going to be splayed out like a bearskin carpet. Not to mention the vulnerability... With their limbs spread in every which direction, everything would be exposed. Their stomach, their back, their head. And they would be without a hope of retaliation.

It was a terrifying thought, but the elaborate restraint was nothing compared to the other thing inside the chamber.

Light.

There must have been a thousand of them. Shimmering, dazzling lights. On the ceiling, on the walls, some even on the floor.

It had not been since Villain's childhood that light had truly affected them. The manifestation of their abilities had coincided with the appearance of their acute sensitivity to the sun. Such was to be expected' a supernatural ability to move through places dark and shadowed, to control the shroud as though it were a thing rather than an absence did not exactly leave one looking forward to the sunrise.

Yet, they were not a vampire. Through gradual acclimation, they had learned to become comfortable with normal levels of light exposure. Spending a few hours under the sun's rays was not a problem, nor was existing within an indoor space, dominated by artificial lamps and LEDs.

But that room...

Villain could not take it. In desperation, they pulled, tugging on the restraints that dangled around them like tails. But, even they were no match for six men.

And, thus, they entered.

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"Now, I can see you weren't lying!"

The voice startled Villain, sent a jolt through their chest, but it did nothing to raise their head or open their eyes. Not immediately. Lifting their gaze was a task accomplished with a considerable amount of effort, and unveiling their eyes from their lids made their corneas feel to have been pierced by searing blades.

They could hardly see Hero, through the blazing lights.

"You really were trying to humor me. This is hilarious!"

It was with a terribly uncomfortable feeling that they felt fury overtake their fatigue.

"It's only been six days. I can play the long game."

"Is that why you've been hanging around?"

Though they tried, in their manacles, it proved impossible to ball their fists. The metal fit too closely around their fingers, contoured to not allow the slightest shadow of movement.

"Maybe it is, Hero. Maybe it is."

"Maybe." The Hero took a step forth, then another, until they were mere inches from their captive nemesis. "They've really done something here, huh? Ya' can hardly move an inch."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to."

"Is that so?"

Hero placed a chilled hand on their nemesis' side-- just above their hip, where their range of movement was the most limited by their splayed limbs.

Villain's heart leapt as they felt a tiny spark, jolting through their chest.

Suffering a direct blow from their nemesis was a fate they had only endured a handful of times. Now, there was nothing to protect them from it. Not even the adrenaline of battle.

"They say you're gonna give up, y'know." Hero trailed their hand, up and down Villain's taut skin. "I think they're betting on it, up in HQ. It's only a matter of time. We can all see you're getting weaker. Tired. You aren't great at hiding it."

"What I'm good at is acting."

"You're saying this is all an act? So you won't mind if I do... this?"

That time, the feeling was more of a spark.

Villain's scream echoed throughout the chamber, but there was no one to hear them but the light.

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"Hey! Get up. Can't you hear me?"

Of course Villain could hear Hero. They'd been hearing their stupid voice every single one of these last...

How many days had it been?

They couldn't remember. Too many.

"There's a difference between hearing and listening."

"I thought this whole breaking you thing would be more fun."

"I'm sorry that I'm not entertaining you."

"Nah, I don't think seeing you strung up like this will ever get old." Like a child, Hero laughed. "Anyways, I brought you some food. It's fish!"

Villain hated fish.

But, struggling would mean opening their eyes. Looking at the light.

And, thus, they ate.

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"Come on."

A sharp vibration rattled through the restraint frame, and, consequently, to the cores of Villain's bones. But, they did not move.

"I know you can hear me. So get up!"

Hero kicked the frame again, but received the same reaction.

"I thought you were playing the long game. I'm looking for some payoff, here. This new Villain is boring."

Maybe.

Maybe they were boring.

But they didn't have the energy to be anything else. Not anymore.

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"What did I tell you?" Scientist smirked. "Like putty in your hand!"

"I still don't understand how you did it." Leader shook their head. "The biggest threat to the city..."

"Oh, it was easy. They've got those weird dark powers, yeah? So they aren't hurt by the light. Not exactly. But, when there's lights on, they can't sleep! Not a wink. You could leave 'em outside and give 'em the keys to your own car, and they still wouldn't be able to escape."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. By the way, who won the betting pool?"

"Engineering department. They said three months, they were the closest. You're saying they haven't slept in three months?"

"Yep! There's not much left of the old Villain anymore, though. So... I mean, now, they can be whatever you want them to be. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm..." Leader drummed their fingers against the wall. "I have always wanted a bodyguard."

"I thought you always wanted a dog."

"True, true."

"So... why not both?"

"You have a technique for that too?"

"Yep!"

[primeemeraldheiress]

Unmasked AU

The room was dark as she entered; the twins asleep in their bed. It was well past their bedtime. Padme sighed. That meeting had gone on far too long. Creeping on silent feet, she carefully shut the door between their room and the main room before turning the lights on low. She still had reports to read before she could turn in.

In the back of her mind, she could hear Anakin groan at her. Telling her she worked too hard -- too long -- and that she needed sleep like a normal person. She closed her eyes and let the memory wash over her. She could see him, chest bare and gleaming in the pale lights of Coruscant filtering in from the windows. That mischievous smirk twisting his lips.

She missed him so much.

She missed who he had been.

With a sigh, she flopped down on the chair and immediately rose, muffling a yelp. Looking down at the seat, Padme picked up the offending object. The sense of displacement rose. She looked around the room to remind herself where she was. When she was.

This was one of Anakin's toys.

One of the little things he'd made from spare parts and circuitry aboard his warship, scurried away in the voluminous pockets of his robes to hand out to refugee children. The small joys he handed out to the little ones. Minuscule comforts, he'd said, could mean the world.

Where had it come from?

A shape, tall and dark, rose at the back of her mind. Her suspicions gnawing at her heart. She bit her lip.

"Mama?" A sleepy head poked out of the room.

Padme shook herself and smiled at her daughter. "Leia, sweetheart, what are you doing up?"

"Thirsty." The little girl mumbled.

"Well, let's get you something to drink." The woman gently set the toy down on the side table and scooped up her daughter. She'd worry about it in the morning. There were more important concerns.

So I had an idea...

I came across that Empire Era story idea on Pinterest today -- the one about Padme surviving and thinking Anakin died on Mustafar yet rising the Rebellion, and Vader thinking Padme still died -- them being trapped somewhere and arguing -- Padme masked -- and Padme slinging something she had said as Queen Amidala or senator and Vader being like “Don’t you dare bring her up--” and Padme ripping off the mask and throwing in his face like “I’ll bring myself into this argument if I kriffing want to!”

anyway, I had ideas for that..

That Vader, in that instant that she throws her mask as him and tells him she'll use herself in her own arguments all she kriffing likes, thank you, his heart breaks all over again. The lies he's told himself shatter around him, lying in pieces. And he know that the rebel leader -- Padme -- hates him and that he deserves it all. 

That he’s burned with his hate for her, too. Why she got to live when his angel died. 

And now all his illusions are shattered and he sees the monster that he is. He falls to his knees. He would cry if he could but he can’t.

But he does not call her anything Anakin would call her; he doesn’t permit himself the privilege of that familiarity.

Instead he swears himself to the service of his queen. 

Padme stands baffled over her greatest nightmare, holding a lightsaber that sings mournfully, familiarly, over the feeling of its own pain. And she's never told anyone she came out the other side of Luke and Leia perhaps a little more sensitive than she went into it.

What can she do but bring him home. In chains, of course, because she’s not stupid. They have cuffs to hold Inquisitors and dark force sensitives. They have ways of containing him. She doesn’t yet trust that she doesn’t have to. 

But he makes not a single aggressive move, not even a snarky word, to her or the Rebellion personnel that come to rescue her. 

When they make it back to the base, him in chains and her with her head held high, the twins rush to greet them despite the clear orders she sent ahead and he just freezes. Something in her freezes, too. She's kept their existence a secret all these years for a reason. 

He wants, for a split second to believe that they are children from a second marriage or a later lover but the boy looks just like him and Vader mourns again.

Padme refuses to so much as look at him as he's escorted to the cells but the children peek at him behind their mother's limbs. Curious faces gleaming in the light of the hanger. Interrogation follows. Sometimes Padme, sometimes others, but he tells them everything he knows. He has no reason to hold it back. His angel is alive and he is hers. Has always been hers. He owes loyalty to no other.

Something happens. The base is attacked or the children are kidnapped -- pirates, not the Empire --  and Padme has no choice but to test the loyalty that Vader swears. The sets him loose and he proves it. 

He is devastating. 

Slowly they build trust -- and Padme's not stupid. The Emperor's right hand man doesn't just come from nowhere and swear their loyalty to her. She digs... and she doesn't like what she finds. Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s nothing more suspicious than nothing.

Little toys, made from loose parts and spare circuitry begin to pop up in Padme and the twins' quarters. The kind Anakin used to make for the children of refugees when they were on the Resolute, to keep his hands occupied, the kind he'd bring home absently, a couple in his pockets every time.

The children aren’t afraid of him. They sense that he won’t hurt them. When he’s sitting somewhere, meditating or just watching, they treat him like a jungle gym.

Suspicion blooms at the back of her mind. One day, as he’s leaving on a mission, Vader slips and calls her Angel. He doesn’t notice but she does and it’s all the terrible confirmation she needs. 

When he returns, exhausted and hurt, and still in that broken down kriffing suit he won’t let anyone touch, she plonks the kids down in front of him and tells him to start their training.

Anakin panics.

"I can't teach them, I know only of the dark" And she argues with him. "Surely floating a feather can't be dark, Lord Vader. A little push pull a too light for you?" Padme taunts him into starting the twins off on their control while she goes to talk to medical and engineering about that suit.

----------

If anyone knows the original OP of the original idea, please tag me so I can reblog them.

[queenmuzz]

Heat of the Moment

A Dante x Reader Valentine’s Day Special!

Your mom had always told everyone, in a disapproving tone, that you were too impulsive for your own good.  You darted into the road to get a runaway ball.  You bought that awesome looking jacket, without checking to see if it was on sale.  And now, because you were craving pizza, and didn’t want to shell out the four bucks extra for delivery, you were in a mighty fine pickle.

You decided that taking the deserted looking street at near midnight, just to shave a few minutes off your walk to Angelo’s Pizzeria was a perfectly splendid idea.  So splendid, you didn’t notice the shadowy figures following you, until you were grabbed from behind, and a cloth covered with some sort of chemical was placed over your screaming mouth.

So now, here you stood, or rather...laid, on cold grey stone, that seemed to leech all warmth away from your flesh.  It was still dark, but illuminated by torches, you seemed to be surrounded by columns of stone, like you were in some knock off kid sized version of Stonehenge.  You immediately attempted to get up, only to find to your irritation, your wrists and ankles were bound by industrial grade chains.   

“The offering has awoken!” called out a woman’s voice, and from the darkness, like the damn Ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings, nine cloaked figures came out of the darkness.  You tried to make out their faces, but both their pitch black cloaks, and blood red masks hid everything about them.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are gathered here tonight to call forth from the very bones of the earth, a power far greater than any human can imagine.  The stars have aligned, the incense has been lit.  All now,” she motioned to the cultist beside her, who handed her a leatherbound book, “Is to speak the incantations, and complete the rituals.”

And then, with the help of her assistant, the group began to chant.  You had no idea of what was being spoken, but it sounded Latin. 

“Really... Latin?  Guys, there are a tonne of other languages you could use!  What happened to originality?!” you grumbled, but while you could feel their glares, none stopped their inane chants

Upon each pillar,  a letter lit up, one at a time.  You couldn’t recognize the script, but it looked like a five year old’s attempt to write Hebrew. For some reason, that irked you. This makes no sense.  Latin is an Indo-European language, and Hebrew is a totally different family! These idiots are mixing everything up!.

But the incantation seemed to do the trick, and the flames grew, and changed to a sickly green colour.  And now, all these cultists raised their arms in exultation 

“Lord of the Underworld, we present you this offering, a Virgin Offering, for you to consume!” The lead cultist chanted.

“Wait!” you blurted out, in a desperate attempt to avert your fate, “I’m not a virgin!  I’ve had sex before, dozens...no, hundreds of times!”

Her assistant leaned over you, their mask barely concealing his skepticism.

“Name one person you have laid with,” he tested.

“Well…” Your mind was blank, and so you went with the first thing that shot through your brain.

“Your mom, for starters.”

You could have slapped yourself for such a dumb comeback, had your wrists not being tied up, but you needn’t have worried about not getting slapped.  The cultist’s lips twisted into a snarl, and you felt white hot pain radiating from your cheek, and the taste of blood filling your mouth.  Even though it hurt like hell, one part of you was mentally high fiving at that comeback.  His hand raised up one more time, to give another strike, but the leader quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Calm yourself, brother… the offering must remain undamaged. Besides,” and you could swear you  heard a smirk in her voice, “It’s not their body that must be virginal, it’s the blood.”

Well shit, you thought, as you placed your burning cheek against the cool stone to relieve the pain.  

The ritual continued.  “We humble servants provide both the firstfruits of this offering to open the way.”  The woman took out a jet black dagger, and approached you with steady steps.  Would she cut out your heart, Temple of Doom style?  Rip out your entrails?  Slit your throat?  All you could hope was that it would be quick and painless.  

What you hadn’t expected was for her to grab one of your restrained hands and with surprisingly gentleness placed the edge of the obsidian blades against your palm.

As she dragged the razor sharp edge, a line of crimson bloomed, like a trail of bubbles.  It almost didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t help but get upset.  All this pomp and ceremony, and they were just giving you a cut that would irritate you for weeks...if you lived that long. Whatever happens, you said as the cultist began using your blood to paint the two largest stone pillars, in a perverse parody of the Passover ritual, I hope whatever these bastards are summoning crushes them.

“COME FORTH!” The whole group chanted in unison, “Taste the blood… DEVOUR THE FLESH!”

And without warning, the blood...YOUR blood, burst into flame, racing up the pillars as if gasoline had been pumping through your veins.  At the top, the flames connected and  formed a gateway...a hellgate.  And within it, an orb, an inferno expanded...and a roar that sounded nothing like any earthbound animal emanated.

And then, an explosion of heat and sulfur knocked down the stones, and the cultists, sending the leader flying back several feet.  Only you, chained to the granite altar, remained in place.

You squinted as the searing light dissipated.  Among the now dying flames stood, or hovered… a demonic sight.  You could swear you saw the air distort from the heat that seemed to generate from within his chest.  Four leathery wings splayed out, the inner skin swirling designs constantly shifting, almost hypnotising.  And the horns!  A good foot long that curved  and twisted, glowing like charred wood both above and around his face. A face that reminded what was in front of you.  A demon.  Teeth as long and sharp as paring knives, eyes glowing like the pits of hell.  As if Satan himself had come up from the depths.  And for all you knew… he probably had.

You heard the sound of crumpled paper.  “Oh man,” the demon rumbled, his voice distorted by the sound of the exhaust coming from between his teeth, “I was just getting to the good part…”

“Oh Great and Powerful Lord…”  the devil stared at the surrounding area, at the the cultists that had recovered began following their leader’s motions and bowed prostrate on the ground, and you still chained.  It was hard to make out his expression, but it seemed like...surprise?

 “We are your most humble servants,” the leader continued,  “All we ask...is a scrap of your power...a trifle for one such as you, as payment for summoning you..My Lord?”

The demon didn’t even spare a second glance as he strode past her, past the other shrouded forms, and made a beeline towards you.  This was it, you thought, time to come up with a witty parting remark. But of course, your impulsive nature wouldn’t cooperate right now.  At least the demon seemed to be the ‘fire and fury’ style, he would probably consume you quickly.

He towered over you, and even now, the stone, which had been ice cold the entire time, began to heat up beneath you...sweat, both from terror, and the inferno looming above you,  beaded on your forehead.  

“My Lord?” the assistant asked, “Is the offering suitable for your arrival?  They have a wicked tongue, but they are perfect for summoning.

“I think you got it all wrong buddy,” the demon turned his eyes on the unholy congregation, and strangely, a chill appeared in the air, “You guys didn’t summon me….” A razor claw extended out and pointed at you, “THEY did… and if they summoned me…” the cultists slowly became aware of what he was implying, the quicker ones started making a run for it, “YOU guys must be the offering!  Who’s volunteering first?”

The answer was nine sets of panicking feet trying to sprint out of the stone circle.  The demon glanced back at you, “You might want to cover your eyes for this, it’s gonna get a little messy,” and with the speed of a racing forest fire, he charged, blades of superheated air swirling around him.  

The scream of the lead cultist was enough for you to clench your eyes shut, and then followed by a multiple of cries of terror and death, as the coppery scent of blood, not your own this time, scented the air.

A few minutes later, there was nothing but silence, except the sound of boots on gravel.  You couldn’t help it, you took a peek.

Instead of the cultists, or the demon, there was just a guy, shaggy white haired, with a worn t-shirt that clung juuuuust right against his broad chest, and a smile on his face.  You looked around, trying to find either a surviving cultist, or the demon, but all you could see in the darkness were void black shapes, lying on the grounds, their robes moving slightly in the breeze.

“That can’t be comfortable, let’s get you out of there,” the man said, and without a hint of effort, he gently grasped your hands, and with the other, he gave a quick yank.  Immediately the sound of snapping metal, and to your amazement, your arms were free.  And if you had thought he had done a sleight of hand with those chains, the way he effortlessly ripped the chains around your ankles off immediately clued you in that this man was more than he seemed.

You rubbed your wrists as you slowly sat up, staring at him. “Who are...you?”

“Ah, yeah...forgot to introduce myself in the whole hubbub.  Cultists always ruining get togethers.”  He stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”  And as you shook his hand, with your uninjured one, you noticed that for a brief moment,  his eyes momentarily glowed red, like embers.  Embers that had once been blazing coals.

He must have seen the flash of panic in your eyes, because he backed away, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Don’t worry!  I ain’t going to hurt you… yeah, I’m the demon those jackasses called for” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “but I’m not the ‘MUST RULE THE WORLD’ type, I usually am the one people call to get rid of what was being summoned, not actually BEING the ‘sommonee.’  Wait, is that the correct term?”  He paused for a moment to think it over, before he seemed to come back to the present. “Anyways, I was just relaxing in my office, reading a magazine, and then POOF, I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people with horrible sense of fashion.  Speaking of my magazine...where did I put it?”

You saw the magazine, its pages fluttering in the wind, and picked it up.  A copy of ‘Half Cocked’, and on its cover, a buxom young brunette was getting a bit too friendly with a revolver,  alongside a well toned man wearing little more than a bandolier.

“Oh thanks!… that” he quickly snatched it out of your hands,  “I read it mainly for the articles…” he explained lamely, before hurriedly shoving it in his back pocket, as he looked you up and down. “Besides...I got a feeling I won’t need it much anymore…”  And in the flaming remnants of ritual, you swore you saw him turn a shade of pink...although that could just be the fire.

“Welp,”  He stretched, “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?  All that work made me famished.”

You had no idea where the hell you were, but you were still ravenously hungry.  Which reminded you how you got into this mess in the first place.

“I could go for some pizza or-”

You felt a blaze of warmth, and suddenly you felt your legs swept under you, and you looked up at Dante, now back to his demonic form carrying you bridal style.  But no longer did it strike fear in you, just a sense of awe...and admiration

“You truly know how to get to this demon’s heart,” he practically purred, and with a slight grunt, he leapt up and started flying towards the nearest collection of lights on the horizon.  “Pizza it is, then!”

Despite the remnant of chill from spending God knows how long on that stone, and the brisk breeze of the upper atmosphere blowing past you, you didn’t feel a little bit cold. It was like being held by a flying furnace.

“You know Dante….” you spoke, barely audible above the wind.

“Hm?”

“You’re pretty hot.”  Instantly, you realized what you had said, and would have preferred him to just drop you to your death at this very moment.

You heard him chuckle.

“Yeah, this form runs a bit warm….”

And even though he didn’t say it, you were almost certain he knew exactly what you meant.

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms pt4

Part 3 here! <-

The tales had be interesting. The tales had even been emotionally gripping, yet all of them so far didn’t seem to register at the moment as Ruby’s teammates looked at her with the same excitement she used to give her own mother during story time. Ruby couldn’t help but give a little smile.

Ruby:I take it you’re ready for my turn? You do know it’s not exactly a sunshine and rainbows story, right?

Weiss:We figured as much, but....

Yang:You’re so different! From the moment you showed up I could just feel it in my gut. You have this...presence about you. Not to mention intsene confidence.

Blake:Yang is right. You said you beat your Salem when your seventeen. That’s...scary if I’m being honest. Such a drastic departure from any of our worlds.

Ruby:*red* Hehehe ummm I guess I’m just awesome? Really I don’t think it’s the most outstanding feat. At least by my worlds standards I suppose. I mean sure, I’m consider cream of the crop there too but there’s talented people and challenges all over that would put me through my paces still. I’m just...me.

Weiss:Sigh...honestly, I suppose that means our own skills must pale in comparison to our counterparts.

Ruby:Mmmm I wouldn’t say that for sure. My Yang would kill me if she heard this but there’s something about the one right here that has spark I dig.

Yang:Really?

Ruby:Uh huh. Can’t put my finger on it but I think you take her if you want it bad enough. As for Weiss....couldn’t tell ya. Haha, I know better than anybody to not underestimate the power of mother, and you pumped twins out.

Weiss:Not sure if those are pity points or real ones but thanks either way.

Blake:You don’t even have to tell me I’d lose. Just gave an entire story about me an my condition.

Ruby:Don’t feel too bad about it. I can’t imagine much reason for you two to fight for any reason. You’re both too reasonable to not reason with yourself.

Blake:Aw I’m touched.

Yang and Weiss:We aren’t....

Ruby:Hahaha I’m just saying! So, I guess I take things from the top like you all? From what I learned from all of you our Beacon experiences really are more or less the same, not counting certain interactions between a bookworm faunus and an adorkable blonde knight. Enrolled early, blew up the entrance, Weiss was rude, Yang ditched me, all the same beats.

Yang:There’s no super badass change like you beating Cinder the night of dance and making our entire lives easier?

Ruby:Ha! I wish I was that legit. No, I was very much the young girl tripping in heels that night. Vytal festival came around and was attacked, then Beacon fell. Pyrrha was lost and so was Penny. Difference being that was my last time seeing her, unlike Weiss’s story apparently.

Weiss:Yeah that...that’s a little bit of shock to be frank. Sorry.

Ruby:No worries. Not like you did anything and it was decades ago for me now. After that day is when I started to get a bit more serious I think. I had always taken being a huntress seriously and never slacked of in trying to live my dream. However, my perspective may have honed in on just how do or die life his when you’re the one choosing to walk into unknown danger. Team RNJR’s first and only mission, save the world!

Yang:Sub mission: Flirt with Jaune Arc.

Ruby:*blushing* We do not choose who we fall in love with it. But yes, that may have been a personal pseudo mission for me. He’s my first friend at Beacon for crying out loud and I you know.....thought he was cute then too.

WBY:Yeah that checks out.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Weiss:Ruby, even my Ruby admits to finding Jaune attractive and having a crush on him back in the day.

Blake:Same.

Yang:I already went into enough detail on how my little sister feels about Jaune. Your just the reality where you pounced on the opportunity and never let go. Struck when the iron was hot and none of us were around; sly fox.

Ruby:Gee you make it sound underhanded. It isn’t like I intended to actively pursue him. Everyone was really sad and stressed traveling to Anima. There was a tension in the air. One that really strained us. I did my best to keep focus, but a leader is only as put together as team. Ren and Nora confided one another as usual and I tried being there for Jaune because seeing him emotionally shut down was rough; so I did my best to be there for him. Then...he ended up being there for me and I was the one who needed comfort. All the airing out and late nights just...led to....*red*

Blake: “Breaking the tension?”

Ruby:I guess that’s one way of putting it. We were lonely. I hid my feelings best I could under the veil of comfort in the moment. Not that needed to. He made it pretty clear that he wanted me in the same way I wanted him. I just the two of us were too scared to ask for promises we weren’t sure we could keep so we loved in the moments we could, so to speak.

Weiss:If it wasn’t under dire situations, all that sounds oddly romantic.

Ruby:Right!? Looking back at it makes the entire thing seem romantic but I definitely wouldn’t wish a similar experience on anybody! I guess it’s what I wished for when I fantasized huntress life huh? Things obviously got better along the way. Our relationship got a bit more serious right before we got to Haven. Then Tyrian and other crazy stuff happened that threw all of us into panic mode again before slowly getting better again by a lot.

Yang:We showed up?

Ruby:Bingo! You and Weiss, met Oscar, and then eventually Blake came back. Things were on the up and up.

Weiss:Uh, Haven attack?

Ruby:We lived, up and up. Yeah you got stabbed but you know...that’s not new I’m sure.

Weiss:Yeah I have the scar and I’m still little pissed.

Ruby:Valid. Anyways, so my Atlas experience was different as hell. There was no formation of Remnants armies like Weiss spoke of or even between two kingdoms like Blake. Yang, what happened yours again exactly?

Yang:Nonsense. Cinder showed up with lackeies but not Salem’s lackies. Those people showed up separately, then Adam came back from wherever the hell he- a lot! A lot of people showed up for different reasons but also the same reason and to be frank, we all almost got shot by the military for being in bases that quote unquote, “didn’t exist.”

Ruby:Man I wish we traded. That at least sounds crazy enough to be fun. Just a rollercoaster in the dark basically. My experience was probably as hectic, but also way more streamlined. We showed up, and then all hell broke loose. Specially a mass grimm invasion lead by Cinder and her annoying associates. We were there for about three weeks updating General Ironwood and getting our barrings together when it happened. I wanna call it a hit and run tactic but it was clearly planned in advanced. Mechs were hacked again, traitors in the military, grimm lying in wait before hand; it was chaos! All for the relic.

Blake:Who was the maiden?

Ruby:Never met her. By the time we got there, Ironwood was panicking because she had vanished, taken right from under his nose. It was some young girl apparently, really young. The attack on Beacon looked like child’s play to this. Mantle got attacked, grimm were on the chains, they tried dropping Atlas to the ground; all a diversion for a relic. We all should’ve died, and yet, we didn’t. Winter and Weiss weeded out traitors, huntsman and military held the line, Yang bested Hazel with Nora, Qrow and I cut down Tyrian! Ren, Blake and Jaune helped the kingdoms while Ironwood struck down Watts. Nobody was in the mood to die that day. There wasn’t gonna be another Beacon. By all means, we were pissed. Even Raven showed up of all people.

Yang:What!?

Ruby:You can’t attack a kingdom without the world knowing. Especially when traitors leak info. Honestly she came for you though, or she never left to begin with. Couldn’t tell ya. Thanks to Maria I had a bit more handling with my eyes. That helped a lot. Without them and Os-

She stopped herself, choking on the words. The zest and excitement of recalling the heroic feats of her friends dimmed slightly with her smile. Her joyful smile became bittersweet like the memory.

Ruby:Then there was Oscar, the real warrior on that flamed filled night. That battle had to have been three days at least. We were so driven, and so tired. I was tired, but Cinder, Neo, and the others with her at the time weren’t; always showing up at the worst time. I managed to push Cinder back in a fight but grimm and others still swarmed. We were at a point that grimm very well might’ve did us in and the villains didn’t have to push any harder. But Oscar changed that. Hehe, what’s it about country folk that makes people like him and I not hesitate to grit our teeth? That dork looked at me, gave me the biggest smile on the the steps to Atlas, and then he left. His hair went white as he twirled the cane and then he left, forever. Oz came out, and he left nothing to the imagination. “Limited magic” my butt. He obliterated grimm and made a barrier aroma Atlas while everyone else cleared Mantle long enough for the world to send reinforcements. Salem didn’t get the relic, but she got the maiden and thousands of casualties. Oscar being one of them. Also, Whitley....he was in critical condition for a very long time.

Weiss:What do you mean...critical condition?

Ruby:Everything happened so fast Weiss. Panic was high, buildings fell....a piece on him. I wasn’t there but when I eventually found you, you were nearly hysterical and banged up. By some miracle he lived even though we could not reach him and he did not get aid for awhile. We thought him dead. It was only after everything we learned somebody got him. Being rich never paid off more than with medical bills. Thanks to youth and medicine he can still walk, but he can only do so much before being tired. He also left Atlas. The cold hurts.

Weiss:So, I run the company because he can’t?

Ruby:I wouldn’t put it that way, but it was one of dozens of reasons that made that goal stronger for you. Relax though, both of you get plenty of time to be witty siblings like I told you earlier.

Weiss:I know. It’s just, I guess it’s hard imagining Whitley hurt like that. I don’t think I could handle it.

Ruby:You definitely teetered in the moment. Knowing that happened though probably gave you anger and grit to fight the entire battle. You were a beast. Scarier than Winter. Anyways, that hollow victory was a real wake up call for the world. They didn’t know about Salem and we never told society in earnest. Cinder and other conspirators were enough to make Remnant work together to boost defense. Relief went to places that needed it and I, became the face of hope. Haven, Argus, Atlas, even people from Vale got to chattering of a particular group of people who always seemed to answer the call for help. Then the towns in between chattered. Yours truly had been carving a name in the history books and was only gain popularity the moment I stepped into Vacou, alone.

Blake:Alone!?

Weiss:What!?

Yang:Where were we!!!!!?

Ruby looked at surprised faces around the table, smiling tenderly. She looked down her dress and pulled out the cross she wore around her neck. Her thumb traced its edges as her mind began wandering down an old path paved with emotions raw to the core.

Ruby:I’ve always felt different. Not just because of my eyes but that there was just...a certain spark that never stopped going off for as long as I remember. There are plenty of people who can’t bare to watch others suffer, but there are fewer people I believe that truly feel the agony of other people’s pain. Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Argus; there was no place I went that I didn’t see the faces of others lamenting, and I didn’t make me want to grieve. Atlas took so much out of all of you and I just felt so....driven to stop that ache. For everyone’s sake, but mine as well. I wanted the world to finally get to the happy ending. Enough trauma had be sowed for a hundred lifetimes, so I went on ahead of everyone. I never doubted you all would follow but I wanted to get ahead of the curve and take on as much of the suffering I could do others wouldn’t. If the world wouldn’t give me a miracle than I’d be it myself for everyone else.

Yang:That’s suicidal! Salem wanted you specifically!

Ruby:It’s not like I went marching up to her door and said “1v1 bitch, I’m here” no, I just chose to move forward quicker than what we were all doing. Believe me, all of you were upset when you caught up, after I had already saved Vacou. *smiles* I really like that place. I told the people it was the next target and all they did was double down on pushing back. I managed to pin down the Summer maiden before the villains and thanks with the city on alert, there wasn’t a shift in the sand that didn’t go unnoticed. I got the jump on Mercury and Emerald, personally paying them back. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It didn’t take long before they realized how screwed they were with them being outed like this and Cinder having the nerve to retreat before hand. Both of them threw in the total, outing the plan against Vacou. A wipeout of a win. Not to mention they told me the location Salem’s little hiding hole.

Weiss:We missed all of that?

Ruby:That’s what happens when I leave in the dead of night and running on adrenaline. Like I said before, people were tired. As much as all of you wanted to hoof it, other’s were relying on you. Atlas almost dropped for gods sake. Eventually when you all caught up it was at a good time. Soloing was rewarding but difficult. Fortunately Sun, Neptune, Ilia, and a few other familiar faces were close by if I needed an extra set of hands. My little stunt earned the anger of everyone for awhile.

WBY:Yeah no shit...the leader left.

Ruby:Yang was the most upset, followed by Uncle Qrow, and you Weiss. I was ready for the blowback. Jaune and Nora saw me though and bursted into tears. Hehe, wasn’t ready for that. Felt terrible and cried back. To prevent that stunt again, my Yang convinced Raven to link me. A couple days of apologizing and rest smoothed things over. It also gave time for just a few close friends and colleagues to get together for an assault on Salem’s castle. A few were apprehensive about it at first but at the end of the day I was going. That attitude was infectious apparently. You guys, actually everybody, they started getting this hunger to end it all. Maybe it was the high of victory? Regardless, it sent me racing to the end with those that I loved most.

Yang:You’re a real “my way or the highway” kind of Ruby. I don’t get how that explains what made you so...elite.

Ruby:I’m not sure what to say. A fight needed to to fought so I fought it. A cry for help was heard so I ran to it. A grimm needed slaying so I slayed it. People needed me to win so I didn’t dare think of losing. Dying was never option, even when it stared me right into my eyes. I had things I wanted to do and people I wanted see for years to come. I guess...I am strong because of the fact I want things my way. A moment I’m not giving it 110% is a moment wasted. After all, a huntress is all I ever wanted to be.

A single dream she wanted since birth. The never ending desire to be the hero in stories told to her many nights ago. That’s all it ever was. That’s all it’s ever been. Even in meadow of beautiful red roses, one would be the rose that captured the eyes of many, that bloomed stronger than the rest. As simple as it was, that had to be the answer here. Weiss, Yang, and Blake were in front of that flower. The Ruby Rose that simply bloomed stronger than the rest. The one that clung to her dream as if letting go meant dying itself. The devotion was inspiring, yet also overwhelming. If this was Ruby they had lead them that day in the Emerald Forest, could they have kept up? Could she be the leader they followed? No, they couldn’t have. Something deep down inside them gave them that answer. No matter how she looked and how much she loved, this Ruby Rose was cut from a cloth they simply weren’t off. The same as others, but oh so different.

Weiss:You’re....kinda a monster, you know that right?

Yang:Seriously, I’m so...floored. It’s intimidating.

Blake:Not to mention humbling. I used to think I gave it all I had. Now I’m not so sure.

Ruby:Oh don’t be like that you three! You’re all living proof there was more than way to go about life, this war! Everything you gave was enough because you’re done with it! Nobody failed. Besides, I...am far from ideal. The assault was challenging. Getting around hoards of grimm and making it to Salem was hell made real. Neo tried taking another shot at me but Yang held her off with help. Everyone pushed the obstacles in front of me out of the way as I went to Salem herself. Cinder had been abandoned by her and stripped of a lot of her powers. Angry and desperate, she tried killing me again as a way to prove worth. I beat her. However, I let her walk away.

Yang:What!? Why would-

Ruby:Naive, I was...naive okay? She was all spent and though I hated her, I just couldn’t. Not when I looked into her eyes and saw that same hunger I had to claw and scream at my dream until it was in my hands die inside her. We both knew from this point on there was absolutely nothing she could do where this ends her way. All she worked for turned burned to ash. So I gave her the choice to not burn up with it. Cinder swallow her pride and then fled. A part of me couldn’t help but rationalize killing her didn’t solve or justify any of my beliefs or desires. It would’ve done it because I hated her like she hated me. That was the dumb logic of a seventeen year old who never quite learned to take things slow.

Blake:....I don’t think it’s dumb. Naive for sure, but maybe that’s good? Even my Ruby, she never wanted to act on hate. She didn’t. Salem lives.

Weiss:Mine sent her soul to be at piece instead of passing a cruel judgment.

Yang:As a person who’s seen what you looked like with nothing but vengeance inside, I can say it doesn’t fit you. Before that day you had a warmth inside you to even foes that were somewhat admirable. You chose to leave Cinder’s fate up to those who had that hate and Salem was undone by her own doing at the very end. That’s what really makes you special Ruby. That’s why you’re called an honest soul. Good will is your nature.

Ruby:....Hmm, you sure know how to butter me up. *scratches head* I guess that part of me is uni-I mean multiversal. Strangely, that makes me feel better, to a degree.

Weiss:Do we even have to ask what happened to Salem at this point? I doubt the story ends with you loosing and having to retreat.

Ruby:Who’s to say it doesn’t? I could’ve been beaten to death before the gods themselves descended down to revive me with awesome power.

Yang:....Did you?

Ruby:Wh-No! Haha, I made her an immortal statue.

Blake:I-It was that easy?

Ruby:Well I wouldn’t call rushing into hell’s castle easy, or Salem. I lit her up at least a dozen times. My head pounded from each use, I was tossed around a bunch, magic is annoying, and not to mention running out of ammo. I left nothing to the imagination in that fight. If it were easy then I wouldn’t be rooting my horn and my age doing it. I was so tired I blacked out afterwards. I woke days later with a sore body and the title of “Remnant’s Savior.” Apparently beating Salem had weakened the grimm everywhere and all of you made sure who was to be thanked for it. That’s the tale of how I saved the world with my friends. Love, trust, elbow grease, and a lot of bullets. Before the final battle, Ozpin had struck a deal with everyone involved. In return for saving the world, he’d cut ties with us.

Yang:Seriously? What brought that about!?

Ruby:Good or not, he lied and was a schemer. Sure I was gonna try to save the world regardless of his interference but there wasn’t a person alive that didn’t to finally take a step towards the future after all this. All of us finally had time chase dreams and help the world the way we wanted to before all of this. Blake begin mending hate, Weiss took back her company, if Yang wasn’t with Blake then she was seeking more answers to Raven on wild adventures.

Yang:You mean Raven still left after all that!?

Ruby:In her defense, both of you made everything fucking awkward when she was around. It’s like you both wanted to talk about something but knew any subject was a land mine so you all you ever did was...stare, like weirdos. Glad that’s in the past. She just lives with dad now and you two now to hold a conversation. I dare not ask for more. I’d be a granny by the time I did.

Yang:Sigh...I don’t know what I expected. Shit it the fan several times and children were born before mom and I found solidarity and understanding. What did you do afterwards? Your goal was already met.

Ruby:Like hell it was! I started busting my butt traveling around the world, visiting every place to help in anyways I could. Ren and Nora tagged along for awhile before going off to make an orphanage in Anima near Ren’s old village. That left Jaune and I to do our hero thing.

Yang:As well as other things....

Ruby:Hey, what can I say? We were young and going up in the world. By the time I was nineteen, I was now a married to my partner and best friend.

Weiss:Uhhhh-

Ruby:He’s my partner on RNJR and you’re my BFF, gosh did I really need to explain that hehe?

Weiss:I just had to make sure. Crazier twists could happen.

Blake:Wow you married young. Not that there’s a problem but I’m surprised. Then again you also dated earlier than my Ruby. Hehe, weapons were on her brain for a long time.

Weiss:No kidding. When I learned about you crushing on my brother I was shocked to find out you liked anybody in general. Especially a person who isn’t a weapon nut in the slightest.

Ruby:*shrugs* All you’re telling me is I’m clearly the most impatient or impulsive Ruby you all know. Don’t know how that happened. Maybe I was dropped as a baby or had one too many coffees growing up?

Weiss:I’m willing to bet it’s both.

Ruby:Ruuuuude. So yeah, that’s...the story of how I saved the world and married Jaune. We even built a home just outside Vacou, overlooking the kingdom and neighboring town in the distance where Maria grew up. Yeah, that’s me....more or less. All the triumphant parts anyways. Anything later on is......

.......

Blake:R...Ruby? You okay?

Ruby:Nope, not really. *clenches cross*

Yang:......You know, I never really got religion, especially after learning the truth. It just seemed completely hollow when you learn of the real gods, ya know? However, I changed my tune a bit after being a parent and then some more when uncle Qrow died. It was never really about the truth behind if those other gods were real-

Ruby:It’s the piece of mind in believing in a better place for loved ones and having people watch over you. It’s truly based on blind faith in every sense but that’s okay as long as it gives peace of mind, to stay strong. Yeah....that’s why I wear this.

Yang:If that’s the “why” then I guess the unavoidable question is what happened?

The reaper leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. Ruby brushed her hair out of her face while her face went pale. Then, Ruby’s eyes, her teammates watched a pair of stunning silver eyes dim, becoming akin to a clouded mirror.

Ruby:Being a huntress was all I wanted. The plan of having a family and settling down never appealed to me much. I feel, I felt like being in the field was where I was meant to be. It’s where I was most myself in a way. So the day I learned that I was pregnant was more than a little upsetting and terrifying, until dad and time itself filled me with the most genuine joy I may have ever experienced. Dustin Arc Rose, my first born son. He opened a door to a world and life I never knew I wanted to be apart of. Then...that door was shut minutes after, when Cinder and Neo stole him right from my arms. I couldn’t do a single thing about it other than blackout. That single act of good will I showed, it did nothing but kill me inside. The same way I did to her.

WB:.....

Yang:Ru-Ruby....your eyes.

Ruby:Hmm? Are they clouded? Funny, I would’ve thought your Ruby would’ve had a similar change. Maybe that’s a world exclusive thing, or a testament to the will you Ruby has to endure. Clouded eyes on a silver eyed warrior means the person has lost the desire or rather the mindset of persevering life. Be it their own life or wanting to end another’s life out of resentment, strife. My entire world fell apart when I woke up and learned nobody was able to retrieve Dustin. I was in pieces, Jaune was broken, nobody was the same. There wasn’t a soul we didn’t know that hadn’t tried to find a lead, but we never did. He was just...gone; and I couldn’t cope at all.

Weiss:I don’t think any mother could. Ruby, I’m so sorry that happened to you.

Ruby:I’m sorry too. I lashed out in anger, and shut people out. My eyes clouded and I dove into my work for a little over a year doing nothing but searching aimlessly as I took and every job back to back. The more time went by meant the more people eventually had to go back to their own, and it drove me up a wall inside. No one could reach me. I didn’t want anybody to. Not even Jaune. I....*teary eyed* I left him alone in house. There was no part of me that could even attempt to understand his pain because I was drowning in mine. I was told he tried his best to catch them at the hospital. I never hated him for not succeeding but I...he... I just, I can’t. I don’t know what I thought. All o knew was I didn’t even want him to touch me. How cruel is that? *hugging herself* I made him drown in despair in the same way I was. I wasn’t home so often that I never realized he eventually left it abandoned to live with dad. Yang and Blake I didn’t even show up to your wedding. Jaune did that much. Hell, Raven attended. Ruby Rose as a person didn’t exist any more. I was only a wandering huntress looking for answers or the challenge that might’ve ended me.

Blake:What changed?

Ruby:Oz, he did what nobody else dared to do. He fought me. I don’t think he thought twice about it. He was prepared to accept all the anger I kept inside until I eventually broke down into tears like I’m trying not to do right now. Thinking about that time is still, extremely difficult. Oz let me lament, encouraging me afterwards to finally except the fact Dustin was gone and that I needed to process it properly. First I went to you Yang, in order to have a my big sis to lean on. Can you guess how that went?

Yang:With me holding you tighter than I ever had before.

Ruby:*smiles gently* I don’t deserve you. You and Blake then came to patch with me where everyone else waited for me and helped me face Jaune. That may have been the hardest thing I’ve done. Grieving or not, the fact that I left him in such a state. I know what that does to people firsthand and yet I left. For the first time in over a year we embraced and finally grieved together. The next two years were spent trying to heal and cope. During my time away the world had fully acknowledged me. I even got a proper nickname, but it all felt hollow. Imagine that, achieving your dream but not caring? If that’s not salt in a wound then I don’t know what is.

Weiss:What’s your title?

Ruby:I am the person people want to see when evil comes to cut their story short. I am a symbol that their tale still has more to tell. Remnant has named me The Storyteller. Curtsey of Maria, who spread the name around. Healing was slow and most nights I felt a pain in my heart, but then everything changed. One moment made me dare to try again to open that shut door in my life. *looks at Yang* I held your son in my arms. Sweet little Kovu.

Blake:*smiles* Kovu? Now I wonder who named him?

Yang:*red* Huh...how about that? Hehehe, wish I could meet him. I know he isn’t technically mine but I can’t help but feel all warm now. Also I can’t believe I named him that!

Weiss:I can. Veronica’s middle name is Nala.

Yang:Okay, maybe not marrying Blake was a win? Clearly I can’t be trusted to not name my children after other cats.

Blake:The wrong kind of cat too. I’m a panther faunus, not a lion. Even if they’re blonde that’s still false advertising of what they are.

Ruby:Well Yang was the one giving birth so you lost a majority of the option to complain.

Blake:That is fair.

Weiss:You gave birth to Vee, so I think that solves who picked her first name.

Ruby rested her head in her propped up hands that rested on the table. She felt exhausted reliving that chapter of her life mentally. Still she managed to smile, then smile bigger. Her eyes unclouded and a warm feeling filling her again. What Ruby said earlier about what made her different may have reign true, but her friends could since that there was now more to it. Ruby had spiraled into an unimaginable tragedy, yet was able to bounce back thanks to loved ones. To smile as she does, it was truly a strong sight to see. Even if she wasn’t fully aware of that.

Ruby:Carmine Arc Rose, my second born and the first child to call me mommy. Followed many years later by itty bitty Garnet. He’s my little man, five years old while is big sis is seventeen now.

Yang:Damn! That’s a gap. Oh, also congratulations. Almost forgot that part. I’m glad you got to be the super awesome mom that-

Ruby:I am easily C-teir.

Yang:Oh come on! What!?

Ruby:Listen, I know I got on you all for calling yourselves bad parents, but I will hear no debate about me understand!? I flop a lot of times.

Weiss:That doesn’t make you a C-teir. That makes you a new mom, silly.

Ruby:*grumbling* I agree to disagree but thank you. It’s just a lot okay. Too much to dive into honestly.

Blake:Summarize. Give us an abbreviated version.

Ruby:Ummm so Carmine is real special kid. The absolute love I have for her is unbreakable but gods damnit if she isn’t the most... “me” I could be! In a way similar yet different from myself, Carmine has always had this sense of urgency in her and a love for the world around her. She recognizes that it’s a fragile piece we have and just how hard I’ve worked with everyone to make it. I could tell that from her when she was five. I’d sound crazy, but the fact she used her eyes at the age proves I’m not.

Yang:She has silver eyes!? Why didn’t you bring that up?

Ruby:I thought that was obvious. All of my kids were born with then. Unlike her baby brother though, Carmine was a weird little kid. She didn’t socialize well. Still doesn’t, she’s kinda comes off rude and cold because of her bluntness. She doesn’t really express all her feelings or understand others fully. One might call her a little cold but the passion she had to protect life itself is a testament to how much she cares. Carmine is also a genius fighter. To put in perspective, people use the same nickname for her that they used for Pyrrha.

WBY:Oh....

Ruby:Yeah! It’s not hyperbolic to say ever since Carmine is far beyond any skill I was at her age since she turned thirteen. You called me a monster earlier but no, I merely gave birth to a beast. I mean she could pass the huntsman exam at fifteen if I didn’t make her wait. I can’t call her arrogant, she talks with confidence because she has that right by all means. Still, besides her face, that’s where the similarities start separating; besides terrible grades in general stuff. We’ve never been in step completely. To put simply in her own words, “What I am is a hero, while she is a huntress.” That good will and mercy I try to give everyone isn’t how she rolls. It drives a real wedge that has resulted in us not going on missions together.

Blake:Is she...killing?

Ruby:She has before, and it had valid reasons entirely, but I also know for a fact she is more than capable of bringing down people without taking that step. Not all cases are that intense thank goodness. Her overall aggressiveness is the root of the problem. You don’t have to put you back into it when handling thugs. They aren’t Hazel.

Yang:Ooo okay, yeah I’m seeing what you mean now. It’s like that one comic you always read!

Ruby:Sigh...yeah she channels a bit of Batman energy and I need her to not do that all the time. I suppose being an honest soul isn’t particularly hereditary. It always feels like we aren’t enjoying each other’s company these days. I can’t blame her though. So....you know how all of you have had one serious problem that has both destabilized yourself as well as the kids and their relationship to you? *clouded eyes*

Weiss:Wait...you loosing a child wasn’t that?

Ruby:Oh it was. It just so happened that it never ended. It grew day by day. Night by night. Jaune and I were cautious with Carmine. Going as far to give her contacts and giving birth to her off the record and not at a hospital. Just in case Cinder came back. Well, Cinder and Neo came back, with my Dustin.

Nobody said anything. What do you even say to that!? All they did was let out a stifled breath and tried to gauge Ruby’s look of guilt.

Ruby:Yet again we had gotten too comfortable. It happened when Carmine was thirteen. I don’t think Garnet was even one yet. That’s when the cruelest realization hit me. My son had been alive and hearing about how his so called mother being a person who saves everyone, yet she never came for him. She had moved on, letting his eyes become clouded with such seething hate for the world she did save; the children she had after. It’s been four years since the day he attacked Carmine and helped grimm try to invade Vacou. To this day it’s been a life of staying on gaurd, searching for them as they popped up countless places to tear Remna- to tear me down and I can’t decide what part hurts the most. The amount of anger that prevents me from killing Cinder in a blink of an eye, or looking at my daughter who has told me herself that she is going to kill her older brother because I’m too weak to do so. That I’m in no way as good as the world believes me to be. *puts hood up* Like I said, C-teir mom, at best.

Blake:That’s- you can’t- there’s no way for you to reach him? Maybe if you-

Ruby:He looks at me the same way Neo and Cinder do, Blake. They raised him to hate me. Besides, he hurt Carmine. She’s just not gonna let that slide and frankly I shouldn’t either. Carmine acts tough and for the most part is, but gets terrified like everyone else. In many ways she’s still just a young girl that I wish had never chosen to become a huntress. If I had it my way she’d just be a normal girl with normal knees; but her mother’s weakness and inexperience wrapped her up in yet another war. It’s ironic. I barely remember mom and yet I ended up putting my family in very similar situation as if she lead instruction. Happy endings, I’m not sure if I get-

Yang:You’re better than mom....

Ruby:......

Yang:Yeah I said. Look I love Summer Rose but at the end of the day she wasn’t around, not that she didn’t want to be, but it’s the truth. Several years of pleasant childhood memories and a lifetime of grief is what she left me, and all you got were tales you should’ve experienced first hand. Ruby you have spent seventeen years loving your daughter unconditionally and being there for her no matter if it’s for better or worse. Yeah you might not being doing it perfectly and I have no idea how to even fathom your predicament, but at least you are there trying. Take it from me, that’s all a daughter ever wants from their mother. It’s also what makes a pretty kick ass dad. *smiles* Chin up, hero. Your story isn’t over yet after all.

Silence filled the air and Ruby’s throat ran dry. Ruby pulled out her scroll to go to her pictures and displayed one of her favorite photos for everyone to see. It was Carmine’s fifteenth birthday. Ruby didn’t lie about the resemblance. the girl had short blonde hair that stopped halfway down her neck in the back and was longer in the front, reaching shoulders. Like her mother, the tips of her hair transitioned to red. The beautiful young woman tried to her hide her smile but her gleeful silver eyes were practically twinkling with joy as Ruby hugged her tightly from behind and a tall, more solid version of Jaune was smushing one of Carmine’s cheeks with an overly dramatic kiss to it. A tiny child no older than three at most was in his big sister’s arms. Garnet had his mother’s hair and eyes but something about the chubby face definitely showed Jaune’s features. The child had red frosting on his face and was reaching eagerly for more cake somewhere out of frame.

Yang noticed the girl took page from her father and wore some regular cargo shorts, but clearly didn’t lack flair by wearing a red crop top that showed off a fresh tattoo of the Arc crest on her toroso. Knowing her sister, that tattoo was most likely practical. The family looked happy, proud; and the mother of it currently sat across the table crying with her head face down in her hands cwhile Weiss and Blake hugged her from each side. Roses may have thorns, anyone who knew roses knew a simple truth. They’re still fragile flowers.

Yang:(Carmine Arc Rose. For you and your mother’s sake, I hope things go well)

xxxx

Though Carmine seemed cold by nature, people were quick learn the opposite. The most recent learner of this was a scared little girl that held on for dear life. It was nighttime, nothing but the sound of pouring rain and the distant glow of red and the warmth of Carmine holding the girl against her body while she sprinted through a mud ridden forest. The little payed no attention to the pain in her side, but the glow of roses, eyes, and flames through her tear filled eyes.

Beowulves chased frantically but then severed immediately by something the girl couldn’t understand, but it looked like the person carrying her. The dead beasts brought no comfort. Not when more followed close behind.

Girl:I-I’m sc...scared!

Carmine:Don’t look at them sweetie, it’ll be fine. Just keep being a brave little girl.

Girl:M...Mommy was back there.

Carmine:.....I know, she’ll be just fine. Your village, there are plenty of people there that will be just fine! Huff..... You got a name?

Mary:Mary.....

Carmine:Oh that’s a beautiful name, Mary. You know I was almost a Mary? Yeah my grandma was a really amazing person and I almost got named something similar to her. Mary is a very strong name!

Mary:You’re a liar! I’m sad, not strong. I want my mommy! Everything his dark and hurts and I want her!

The girl began painfully crying as Carmine followed her trail of roses to avoid getting lost. Things were getting worse. The storm raged and she could feel this girl burning in her arms. Not to mention the unsettling warmth the mixed with the cold rain against her body and dripped to puddles below. Any grimm near by could only be dealt with by many copies of her nearby, but that would only go so far when fear was out full force. Carmine’s boots felt like cement, but she still ran.

Carmine:Mary, you know what do when I miss my mommy? I sing! Yeah, my mom sings the best lullabies that made me feel super strong when I was little! It’s a magic song that makes everyone strong. How about I sing it you and they can sing it your mommy later okay!? But you have to close your eyes to really focus on the words!

Mary:*sniffling* Okay....

Baby deathstalkers swarmed the path made ahead as small Nevermores dove at her. Out of options, Carmine broke from the path, trying to rely on memory to go towards the safe zone while also singing lyrics to her favorite song.

Dream of anything; I'll make it all come true.

Everything you need is all I'll have for you~

Carmine never wavered. No matter how badly her lungs her or nearly slipped, she kept singing all the way to her destination where several other clones were seen racing towards with more civilians to injured or young to go themselves. An orphanage where Nora and Ren stood outside rushing people in while Jaune was keeping the grimm at bay. The sight brought a little ease.

Don't worry, I've got you; nothing will ever harm you.

I'm close by, I'll stay here; through all things, I will be near~

Carmine finally reached Nora and passed off the girl who’s grip weakened overtime. A few lyrics in and Carmine knew she was singing mainly for herself.

Carmine:Get her medical attention! I’m gonna go and find more! There’s still-

Jaune:Wait, it’s too dangerous!

Carmine:I know! That’s why I have to go! That fire is spreading and there’s stragglers pinned down! Dad.....I’m pinned down!

Jaune tensed up and looked at Carmine. No scraps on her and her clothes only soiled by others. It didn’t take long to realize. The man resisted the urge to run out to the ruined town and stood firmly.

Jaune:Carmine...end it. We’ll worry about the consequences later.

Carmine:....Okay.

Across the woods amongst the flames the real Carmine stood bleeding and bruised in front of two Beringel that charged over the vanishing corpses of their fallen with more grimm, her sword stabbed into the ground supporting her weight. Behind all living people that remained finally managed to flee. All except for a woman trapped by house debris. The woman watched this young huntsman stand proudly again. She wasn’t sure what happened next. All she heard was one sentence.

“Close your eyes...” before everything went white. Next thing she knew, Carmine was lifting debris off her as rain and wind washed away any evidence. A relief she didn’t care about in the slightest. She neither had the strength, or the time too. Much like Carmine, who began to pant and teeter. It was clear to the woman that whatever just happened didn’t come without cost as she watched the girl fall to her knees. Though she tried moving, Carmine was spent.

Carmine:Don’t worry...we’re safe....let’s-

Woman:Go...

Carmine:Huh?

Woman:I...my legs. Everything...I can’t move. Just go. I d-don’t think I’d las-

Carmine:Don’t talk like that! The hard parts over! I can-

Woman:Barely walk. *smiles* It’s okay. I don’t blame you. You fought hard.

Carmine:.....I...I’m sorry. *teary eyed*

Woman:Say, I know that face anywhere. Your Lady Rose’s kid. Funny, I thought your eyes were red? My daughter, Mary, she loves your mother. Makes me kinda jealous hehe, but hey I love her too. *crying* Do you know if Mary made it? She was wearing-

Carmine:A black dress, pink ribbons in her hair...

Woman:Yes! Is she safe? I saw you- one of you carry her off.

Carmine:...She’s just fine.

Woman:Good. That’s all....that.....

The woman never finished her sentence. Carmine’s body fell limp on the ground, facing the rain. Even with the cold downpour she could feel the warmth of her own tears, containing her emotions best she could as she looked through her clones eyes to watch Nora take Mary away from the survivors and out of sight to not stir further panic.

Carmine wasn’t sure how long she layed there, but it was long enough for Jaune to find her. The man didn’t say a word. The town was in shambles. Grimm were still fading and his daughter looked tired, but not in serious condition. Unlike the those who didn’t make it. Jaune put Carmine in his arms, carrying her away to safety.

Carmine:......Does mom ever save them all?

Jaune:No, but that never stops her from trying; or mourning.

She clenched her father’s shirt and let herself be fragile, to be a Rose.

Carmine:Next time. Mom and I, we’ll both get it right next time. A happy ending for all!

Jaune:Yeah, I know you will. Together....

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

The dining room was loud and boisterous as it always was before supper. Jenny bustled in with dish after dish, Claire and Maggie trailing behind with more. Mary MacNab was feeding wee Ian in the nursery to keep the meal somewhat formal given that they had a guest. The men had just finished washing up from the day, and Jamie was upstairs fetching John from his room. After the tour of the grounds, Jamie got back to work, and John got himself settled in his room.

As Claire sat herself down, Jamie returned, John right behind him. All conversation immediately ceased. Even Kitty, little devil though she was, had the sense to be scared. Claire watched as John surveyed the six sets of wide, little eyes gaping at him, and the narrowed, piercing gaze of Jenny. Jamie either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the awkward silence, and he pulled out a chair, indicating John to sit right beside him. Claire chided herself for the ridiculous pang of jealousy that struck her sternum. Brianna always sat between her and Jamie. But there was nothing between him and John.

“This looks splendid,” John said lightly, smiling warmly at Jenny. “My compliments to the Mistress of the house.”

“Mhm.” Jenny nodded curtly, reaching to fill Michael and Janet’s plates without even looking up at John.

Claire’s face flamed with secondhand embarrassment, and she noticed that John was no less affected.

“Lord John is very good at chess, I hear,” Claire said rather stupidly. “Quite a formidable opponent for you, Ian.”

Ian had the decency to look up from his food and smile and nod genially, but he said nothing.

“And what does that make me?” Jamie said, joking.

“You don’t recall all the times you lost?” John side-eyed him, smirking, and Jamie scoffed, gesturing flippantly with his fork.

“Ye played chess in prison, then?” Jenny cut in sharply, finally looking directly at John with no mercy in her cold eyes.

“Aye,” Jamie did not seem at all perturbed, even though Claire suddenly had little to no appetite. “I was a conduit of sorts, for John to learn and understand the prisoners’ needs. I spoke for them over meals and games of chess.”

Claire did not miss how Jenny visibly cringed at Jamie referring to John so informally.

“He was an excellent advocate,” John cut in. “He cares very much about his people. He was born to be a leader.”

“Shame he canna be one,” Jenny snapped, putting more potatoes on Kitty’s plate. “Seeing as he canna own his own family land.”

John swallowed thickly. “That…yes, that is quite a shame. If there was something to be done about it—”

“Ye’ve done enough, man,” Ian said, and despite his discomfort, Claire could tell he meant it. “And we thank ye.”

“God forbid he lose his position serving the Crown,” Jenny said with no hidden ire. Maggie looked like she was about to burst into tears out of sheer discomfort, her food completely untouched. Young Jamie’s ears and nose were bright red with anger, apparently old enough now to understand. Kitty and Brianna kept looking at each other and then back at the adults.

“Janet,” Jamie snapped. “Enough.”

“Forgive me,” she said without any hint of an actual apology in her tone. “Shall we continue discussing yer fine meals together in prison?”

“Jenny…” Claire tried, but her quiet attempt at calm was completely talked over.

“It looked just like this, I suppose. You sitting there all high and mighty in yer fine red coat.”

“Janet—”

“And you,” she interrupted Jamie, pointing fiercely at him, “sitting there wi’ him like his coat isna stained wi’ the blood of yer people!”

“Ma, please stop…” Maggie blubbered helplessly.

“Like ye’re equals!” Jenny went on. “Like right now. Sitting there in yer redcoat like ye own the lot of us.”

“Madame, I assure you…”

“Dinna even have the decency to wear something else in the presence of these children who’ve seen nothing but terror from the likes of it!”

“I…I don’t have…”

“Mummy…” Brianna tugged on Claire’s sleeve, and before she could open her mouth to comfort her, Jenny stood.

“Children, out. Take yer plates to the nursery. All of ye. Now.”

She hastily dumped more meat and potatoes on all of their plates as they shuffled out, dumbstruck with fear, Maggie’s sniffling echoing down the halls until their footsteps disappeared up the stairs.

Jamie stood the second the children were out of earshot, and Claire shot to her feet to contain his rage.

“Ye’re out of line, sister,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I am?” she roared, puffing her chest out with her hands on her hips. “Ye must be bloody mad! Bringing him in to dine like he’s one of us! With my children!”

“He’s a friend!”

“But not one of us!” she spat, her face reddening. “And I canna believe ye…ye dined wi’ him in chains…” Her eyes watered. 

“I was never chained, Jenny.”

“That’s no’ the point!” She angrily swiped at her tears. “Ye let him…use ye…”

Claire’s chest tightened.

“And he’s got ye still like a dog on a lead! It’s plain as the nose on my face watching ye talk wi’ him!”

“What the devil are ye implying?” Jamie’s voice lowered dangerously.

“I may no’ have been farther than Broch Mordha in all my life, but I’m no’ daft.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ye bloody told us he’s fond of ye. I bloody ken what that means.”

“Jenny, come on now…” Ian heaved himself to his feet and touched her shoulder.

Claire glanced down at John, and he looked like he was contemplating drowning himself in his soup. Jamie was vibrating beside her, and she put a gentle, calming hand on his forearm.

“I just…” Jenny gasped in a hiccup of tears, her hand flying to her chest. “I didna ken that ye…that you…” She swallowed thickly, gathering her resolve. “Ye didna say you were fond of him.”

In the time it took Claire to blink, something shattered, food splattered all over, and Jamie was leaning across the table, his nose inches away from Jenny’s.

“I’m. Not. Fond. Of anything.”

Claire took a trembling breath, watching Jamie growl in Jenny’s face, Jenny still as stone, not backing down. She took her eye off them for a split second, long enough to see two tears trail down John’s cheeks.

“Dinna lie to me, brother,” Jenny said calmly. “I dinna ken what he did to ye, and I dinna want to know. I just want this madness to stop.”

Jamie heaved, his entire body convulsing with each breath. Claire dare not take a step or move an inch.

“Bringing a redcoat into my home is bad enough,” she went on. “But bringing in a redcoat that’s…someone like him…in front of the children…” Her voice broke again. “How could ye do it, brother…? How could ye let a sodomite—”

A sharp crack filled the air, and Claire felt all the air rush out of her. Jenny recoiled with a stifled cry, holding her cheek. A terrible, painful silence followed, and Jamie straightened up, as if realizing what he’d done. Claire looked at Ian, and she wanted to weep. She had never seen him filled with such anger.

“I’m no’ an impulsive man, Jamie,” Ian said unevenly. “But if ye dinna quit my sight this instant, I’ll pound yer bloody face in fer what ye’ve just done.”

Without a word, Jamie was gone, and the blood rushing in Claire’s ears was too loud for her to hear where he’d gone to. A chair scraped to her left, then a flash of red zipped by; John disappeared.

Not knowing what else to do, Claire sprang into medical action, striding around the table to examine Jenny’s face.

“I’m fine,” she pushed Claire’s hands away. “Nothing more than a bit of stinging. He’d never hit me hard enough to leave a mark.”

“Well he still shouldn't have done that,” Claire said, her voice more thick with emotion than she’d realized it would be. “You’re not children. He’s a grown man with the strength of three grown men. He should not be laying hands on anybody half his size.”

“No,” Ian growled. “He shouldna.”

“D’ye think me mad, sister?” Jenny said desperately, grasping Claire by the shoulders. “Or d’ye see it? Ye must ken what I mean! Ye’re his wife! Has he told ye?”

Claire gently pried Jenny’s fingers off her and laced them with hers. “I don’t think you’re mad. But I do think there’s something you’re missing. And I...I don’t think you should have spoken to Jamie that way. Nor should you have spoken about John like that right in front of him.”

Jenny blinked dumbly. “D’ye no’—”

“Yes, I do,” Claire said sharply. “Jamie told me that John is in love with him.”

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible!”

“No, it isn’t.” Claire’s face heated with anger. “And John never hurt Jamie. Never.”

“But what if it didna...what if it wasna...unpleasant for him? That’s what I’m trying to tell ye!”

“No,” Claire said quickly, too quickly. “Jamie wouldn’t...he said he didn’t. John told me they didn’t. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“D’ye think they’d confess to such a sin?”

“It’s not a sin.”

“I ken yer time is different sister, but—”

“This has nothing to do with time,” Claire said resolutely. “John is a human being and he can’t help the way he feels. And you have no right to make him feel horrid for who he is.”

Jenny let go of Claire’s hands and crossed her arms, embarrassed. “I don’t...I dinna understand.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Claire said gently, crossing her own arms. “I admit I don’t really understand it either. But it’s none of my business.”

“It is yer business if he’s rogering yer husband.”

Claire recoiled as if she was hit in the face, blinking in shock.

“If you don’t take that back this instant, I’ll slap you myself.”

Jenny flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sister. I’m sorry.”

Claire sighed impatiently. “I’ll go talk to Jamie. After you’ve both cooled down, you will apologize. For insulting his friend, and him.”

“But—”

“And if Jamie has been unfaithful,” Claire gathered her skirts and walked away, stopping in the doorway, “I will deal with him in my own way.”

——

After several minutes of searching, Claire found Jamie in the stables, his forehead pressed to the snout of his horse as he whispered in Gaelic, stroking his muzzle. He seemed to have calmed considerably, for which Claire had the horses to thank. They always had a soothing effect on him, even as far back as when she’d first met him.

“Has Jenny convinced ye I’m a filthy pervert, then?”

Claire recoiled a bit, but pressed on, taking a few more steps into the stable. “No.”

“I’m sorry if I frightened ye,” Jamie said sadly. “But I’m no’ sorry I hit her.”

“I don’t blame you,” Claire admitted. “She was behaving abhorrently.”

“I hear what ye’re no’ saying, Sassenach,” Jamie said, still not looking at her. “Ye condemn Jenny, but ye still want to ask me if she’s right.”

Claire straightened her spine, embarrassed she’d been found out so easily.

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Claire tried, taking another step forward. “If a man showed up on our threshold and started acting so...familiar with me, and went on about all the evenings we spent together...wouldn’t you wonder?”

“Aye. I would.” He finally released the horse and turned around, flicking a piece of hay away impatiently. “But ye thought I was dead. I’d no’ shame ye for remarrying, or trying to. I kent ye lived and maybe waited for me. Why would I betray ye? Why would ye think it? And wi’...wi’ a bloody s—”

“Don’t say it.” Claire put a hand up. “I’ve heard that word quite enough for one lifetime, now.”

“Is that no’ what he is?”

“He’s a man, first and foremost. And your friend, secondly.”

“Aye. But I dinna have to agree wi’ how he lives his life.”

“But you don’t have to treat him so awfully for it, either,” Claire said firmly. “He can’t help how he feels about you. I admit I didn’t realize how...strongly he felt until he showed up today. I was...frightened by it, truthfully.”

“What frightened ye, Sassenach?”

“I...I don’t know…” Claire shook her head. “When I saw that it went beyond...lust...I thought...I was afraid that…”

“I dinna love him,” Jamie growled, his body tightening.

“I didn’t say you did,” Claire said, her voice quiet with awed horror. “You said that.”

He stepped back, running an impatient hand through his hair. “I don’t.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “John told me nothing...happened.”

“It didn’t.”

Claire almost jumped at his vehemence.

“And if anything would ha’ happened, it woulda been my choice. My own free will. As ye well know.”

Claire blinked a few times, unable to reconcile with the unfamiliar rage roiling in her gut. “You’d...let him do that…hurt you...but you don’t love him.”

“He wouldna hurt me!” Jamie said furiously. “Why are ye so determined to make him a monster?”

“Why are you so determined to defend him?” Claire shot right back. “You say it as if you’d...want him to!”

“Want him to what, Claire?” Jamie took a dangerous step forward, hovering over him.

“You know bloody well what!”

Jamie roughly seized her upper arm, yanking her close. “Say it, Claire. I want ye to look me in the eye and tell me what it is ye think I want.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Aye! I do!” He shook her a bit.

“I want to know if you actually let him fuck you to buy your freedom! And if you fucking wanted him to! And enjoyed it!”

He released her suddenly with a great shove, and with a mighty roar, he punched his fist into the door of an empty stall behind him, spooking all of the horses. Claire gasped, stumbling back and falling onto her rear. She knew to her deepest core that he could have hit her with that force. He threw her away to protect her from the rage she’d stirred in him.

But, God help her, she still wasn’t done.

“I don’t bloody care who it is! I care if it happened or not!” She stayed on the ground, crying up to him like a pathetic child. “And I care that you might not think it...counts because he’s a man! And God, Jamie! It does!”

“Of course it counts!” he shouted. “It would! If it’d happened! Why, why would I lie to you?” “Because you’re ashamed! I can see it all over your face!” She pointed accusingly, openly weeping at him. “If it were a woman you’d be on your knees begging my forgiveness, but because it’s a man, you’re ashamed!”

That gave him pause, and Claire thought she’d gotten through to him, thought he was about to make a confession. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Aye. I am ashamed.”

Claire let out a tiny sob, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. It was her doing, wrenching it out of him like this; it was what she’d wanted. And yet she wished she could undo it all, live in blissful ignorance forever. She couldn’t bear to hear him say it, and yet she had to.

“I’m ashamed because I’m afraid.”

This gave her pause. She blinked, picking her head up off her knees. “Afraid…?”

“I’m afraid of what would have happened if he’d agreed to it.”

And all at once, Claire wanted to die with shame, because she knew with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

“I’m afraid I would have...enjoyed it. As ye said.” He took a stuttering breath, more tears littering his cheeks. “There was a...a thrill that ran through me when I asked him. And it scared me senseless. And I ken. I ken that...that Randall put that in me. I ken.”

“Jamie…” Claire practically squeaked. She unfurled from herself and got on her knees. “Jamie...come here. Come here, love…”

He obeyed, dropping to his knees like dead weight, and Claire gathered him in her arms until his head was in her lap, hands fisting her skirts.

“That man put nothing in you. Nothing. He owns no part of you and you own no part of him.”

He shook his head, and she stroked his hair, hushing him.

“If you...if you’d enjoy being with a man...a man who cares about you...loves you, even...it’s not the same thing. It’s not.”

She listened to his quiet sniffling and bit down her own tears, working to steady her voice.

“That’s not...how that works,” she struggled to find the words. “I don’t know much about John, but he’s not...the way he is because somebody hurt him. People don’t just...become that way. He was born that way. And if...if you…”

“No. I’m no’ like him.”

“Not like John? Or not like Randall?”

“John is a good man.”

“I know,” she soothed. “I know.”

“I ken he’s a good man...and yet I...I canna…” he took a deep breath. “Ye remember I told ye I beat a man senseless fer implying John and I were...buggering.”

“I remember.”

“It wasna to defend John’s honor. No’ really. And he knew it. I think he knows...something. I never told him, and I never will. But he could tell.”

“So why did you beat him then?” Claire knew the answer, but she needed to hear Jamie say it.

“Because I couldna stand anyone thinking I was that way. It made be blind wi’ rage.”

Claire nodded, stroking his cheek with her knuckles. “I know.”

“I...my mind knows that John is good...but my body...recoils to think of what he is.”

“To...think of what you might be?”

It was risky. He could kill her in one fell swoop.

Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist and buried his face further into her.

“I don’t care, Jamie. I don’t. I don’t know how to help you accept that part of yourself, but just know that it makes no difference to me.”

Claire swallowed. “I’m sorry I was so horrid. I said exactly what I knew would get you the most upset. And I know why it gets you upset. And it was so, terribly wrong of me.”

She felt a fervent kiss to her abdomen, and she clung to his hair.

“I think I...as much as I respect and admire him...I just as equally resent him. And it’s awful because you were in prison, for Christ’s sake...but I…” Her voice caught in her throat. “I know I’ve said it enough times, but you were dead. I was so lost without you. We all were. We were harassed and starved and beaten, and we lost and feared…” She shook her head. “And for those eight years, he had you. You were at his beck and call to dine with and...play chess...all the while I thought you were rotting on Culloden Moor.”

Jamie sat up, looking into her eyes with enough remorse to crumble the strongest resolve.

“I’m your wife. I’m your fucking wife,” she said, teeth clenched. “I was your wife those entire eight years that he had you pretend I didn’t exist; you didn’t even know your daughter existed. I cried into my fucking potatoes every night for years beacuse you weren’t at supper and all he had to do was look up and see you right there. And the thought of it makes me…” She must have been trembling, because he put steadying hands on her shoulders. “I can’t bear to think of it.”

Jamie tenderly kissed her forehead.

“And to think of him having just that one bit more of you...the only thing that I’d have to claim over him…” She shrugged uselessly, feeling like a petulant toddler fighting for rights to a toy. “To think of you giving yourself to him the way you give yourself to me while I couldn’t even bring myself to touch myself for eight years…”

“But I didn’t, Claire,” he said vehemently. “I didn’t.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “I know,” she croaked. “I know.”

He captured her lips gently, almost hesitantly, and she reciprocated in kind, fingers trembling on his cheeks.

“D’ye doubt that I love you?”

“No,” Claire answered without hesitation. “Not for a single second.”

Jamie nodded, sighing in relief. “I was afraid...once ye knew the darkest parts of me...ye’d think I couldna…”

Claire shook her head, kissing him lightly again. “It doesn’t make you dark. Or incapable of love.”

“Or incapable of loving that ye’re a woman…?”

Claire shook her head again. “You tell me, Jamie. Do you still love these…?” She took his hands and guided them to her breasts, delighting in the stutter of his breath. He nodded reverently. She guided his hands under her skirts. “How about this?”

He groaned, and a chill ran down her spine.

“Aye, lass. God, I do…”

She straddled him, kissing him more deeply, grinding down into his hand. “Then nothing else matters.”