#why would you want to shift the blame away from the EMPIRE anyway?

[tangents-within-tangents]

Okay I know this is just a joke, sorry to hijack

But fr yall really need to chill out about blaming Saw. He had no idea they were going to do a mission at the same place and time as him, same way the Batch had no idea he would be there. Why would he want to give up his mission for theirs anymore than they would for his? He was not the one who shot the railcar off the track, calm down. And he has no idea Tech died that day.

And Omega? Sees the good in people who don’t see it in themselves Omega? Who forgave Crosshair for all the times he literally tried to kill her? And forgave Ventress for some reason after witnessing her force choke Wrecker and hold Hunter at lightsaber point? Yeah she’s not gonna hold a grudge

No wonder he left

[tendertenebrosity]

Part 11 of the Hostage series, princes and pirates and imprisonment, oh my.

 Masterpost is here.  Tagging: @redwingedwhump, @whump-cravings, @burtlederp, @quirkykayleetam, @annablogsposts, @redstainedsocks

“I don’t understand,” Jak said. “Don’t you want to go home?”

His face was creased in bafflement, his hands dangling off his knees as he sat in the chair.

Rill awkwardly smoothed a hand over the sheet beside him on the bed, futilely seeking order in the creases and folds of fabric. “It… isn’t that simple,” he said.

“Why not?”

“It… it just isn’t,” Rill said. He sat back, leaning against the wall, and covered his face with his hands for a moment. “Your uncle sent you in here to question me about it, didn’t he,” he said, mildly accusing.

“Oh, sure,” Jak agreed readily. “But that isn’t really why I’m asking.”

“I just don’t want to be ransomed.”

“Do you think your folks can’t afford it?” Jak dismissed that with a wave of a hand. “If so, talk to Tallow, it can be a token amount. More to save face than anything. Tallow would always rather get something than nothing.”

“It’s… it’s not that…”

Rill sighed heavily. He took his hands away from his face, but still did his utmost to avoid Jak’s eyes - Jak, who was now sitting across the room from him, worried and earnest and apparently content to sit there looking at Rill for as long as it took to get an answer out of him.

Guilt plucked uneasily at his nerves. Back when they were imprisoned together, Rill hadn’t really intended to lie to Jak. It had just been… easier not to broach the subject. And what had it mattered, anyway, when they were both likely to die soon?

But then they hadn’t died, and it had moved from being just an omission of irrelevant information to a lie. And that lie was keeping him safe, he couldn’t abandon it no matter how bad it felt to be lying to Jak, who had saved his life for no reason and didn’t seem to expect anything at all in return.

Jak was a friend to Rill the Nobody. Would he still be a friend to the Prince Consort?

Well, Rill didn’t really intend to find out. No matter how long Jak sat there, frowning with the force of his concern.

“It’s not an amount of money that’s the problem,” Rill said, trying to skirt the issue, talk about it without talking about it. “It’s more that… I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already have been. It’s just… better that I stay away.”

“What? Stay away?” Jak shook his head. “And leave them wondering where you are, whether you’re dead? How is that better for them? You just want to disappear out of their lives? That’s fucked up.”

“I’m not disappearing,” Rill said. “They knew where I was. They will assume the Empire killed me.”

Could they be partially right? he wondered. Could the Prince Consort be dead and just plain Rill crawl away from the shell? The prospect wasn’t... terrible.

“And that’s awful!” Jak protested. “When you could go home safe and be happy - ”

“I don’t think I do want to go home!” Rill burst out. “Jak, they left me there!” He could not stay sitting any more. He pushed up off the bed and lurched upright, turning his back to Jak. There was no room in here to pace, not with the both of them in here. He settled for clenching and loosening his fists as he spoke to the closed door, his voice uneven. “Look, I’m not saying they made a bad choice or the wrong choice, but they left me there to rot. Did Tallow tell you that? The Empire asked for more than I was worth, so they left me in the Empire’s hands knowing full well what was happening to me.”

Rill heard Jak shift behind him, but he didn’t want to turn around and see his face. Rill was breathing a little harder, his throat burning. His eyes, too, which wasn’t usual.

“How am I supposed to - how can I - ” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Jak, how are you supposed to go back home after that? They’re not going to understand. I don’t blame them. But I just…”

He trailed away. The sound of his breathing filled up the room for a few seconds.

“Well, you probably should,” Jak announced.

Rill turned, startled. “What?”

“Blame them! Gods, man!” Jak slapped a hand down on his thigh. “What do you mean, you don’t think they made a bad choice? If they could have saved you they should have! That’s family!”

Rill managed a smile, through his prickling eyes and the lump in his throat.

“Jak…”

“More than you were worth! Calling yourself a burden! Bah!” Jak leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands in a ‘what gives’ sort of gesture. “Rill, who talks to you like this? Getting you back safe from the Empire should have been worth any cost!”

“In, uh… the idea is right,” Rill said, unable to find the words in Castar for what he meant. “The idea, the theory, sure, a life is worth anything. But that’s not how it works in the real world.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jak folded his arms and looked mulish.

“Well, what about lots of lives?” Rill asked. “You’d trade lots of people for one person?”

Jak shook his head. “Not trade lives. Risk lives, maybe, it’s different.”

Rill sank back down to sit on the edge of his bed. “It isn’t, really,” he said. “I can be… er, what’s the word in Castar for ‘objective’? No?”

Jak shrugged, nonplussed.

“I can look at the big picture.” Rill coughed into his arm, wincing at the pain. “One life isn’t worth many. It was the right choice.” Why did I bring this up, he wondered. Why get all choked up about Tali leaving me, and then explain in great detail why she was right? Why does this hurt so much? I don’t know what’s going on in my own head, how can I expect anybody else to?

“Look, I don’t see how this changes things,” Jak said after a moment. “OK, sure, you think they were right not to save you. You are wrong, but whatever. Why does that mean you can’t go home now? Uncle’s not going to ask to trade you for a dozen people.”

“No,” Rill agreed. “I suppose not.”

“So tell him who you are and go home!”

Rill bit his lip. He looked down at his hands, which were starting to heal up from all of the bruises and cuts he’d gained during his time in the army camp. He ran a thumb idly over a healing scab.

“Jak… what if they say no,” he whispered. “What if they still say no? They might not even entertain a negotiation.”

Rill was not sure he could take that.

“Do you really think that’ll happen?” Jak said, hushed and frowning.

Rill shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not… even before I was stupid enough to get myself captured, I wasn’t exactly the most useful to have around.”

He picked at the roughness on his skin, pulled it back to bleeding and watched the bead of bright red well up on his knuckle. Little merchant clerk, not good enough for the Queen’s hand. What use are you? A captain in uniform, very close by the Queen’s side. “Truthfully… they’ve probably replaced me already. It’d probably mess up a lot of people’s plans if I went back.”

After all, Rill being gone would solve a lot of political problems. Couldn’t be a lightning rod for political discontent if he died tragically, could he? And the new nobility would have no cause to complain. And Tali could finally get the kind of husband she’d always wanted.

“Who cares?” Jak demanded. “If I were you, I would take joy in messing those people’s plans up. They shouldn’t count you out so easily.” He leaned forward, making the chair creak under his weight, and pointed forcefully at Rill. “The more I hear out of you, Rill, the more I think maybe fuck your family. They’re not worth the name. You have to go back to make them eat their words! Be great and make them all regret valuing you so little.”

Rill rocked back, startled. The smile he found on his face tugged unexpectedly at a scab on his lip. “That’s what you’d do?”

“Absolutely,” Jak said firmly.

“Well, I’m not you, Jak,” Rill said. Which was unfortunate - if Rill had been more like Jak, the court would probably have liked him more from the start anyway. “I don’t think that would work for me. But thank you.”

Jak subsided, looking a little deflated. “You’re still not going to tell us, huh?”

“No,” Rill said. “I’m not.”

“If we asked and they did say no, Rill, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Jak said. “I don’t really think Tallow would go through with killing you. He already likes you more than most Mainlanders.”

“I don’t think that’s true…” Except insofar as you all seem to hate us as default…

“We would figure out… something,” Jak continued. “Some other way to get the money, maybe, or some way you can work and still stay here. The ships pick up a crew member from one of the safe ports, sometimes - not often, but it happens, Skyle told me about it.”

Rill smiled sadly. Or, Tallow will contact the Empire and let them know he has a bigger prize than he thought. I highly doubt I’m going to be welcome as crew on a pirate ship, as funny as Tali and the council would probably find that.

“No,” he said aloud. “I’m sorry, Jak, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m not being ransomed. I’m not going home.”

And whatever happens will just have to happen.

[lubdubsworld]

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC 

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 

Everyday began much the same. 

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work. 

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 

But not today. 

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 

It had been eight years ago.

 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 

But the nerve damage stayed. 

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 

But it wasn’t something I could hide. 

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 

The girl who couldn’t walk. 

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 

I smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 

It was a brutal sort of realization. 

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 

There was a reason. There had to be. 

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked. 

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to 

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left. 

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed. 

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 

He exhaled sharply. 

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 

 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 

Silence. 

“Have you told your parents?” 

I exhaled sharply.

“No.” 

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 

“No.” I said softly. 

He sighed. 

“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 

I laughed. 

“How very practical of you..” i said. 

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 

I turned away. 

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey stupid post incoming (i don’t usually post theories cuz i’m dum as shit) but my horrible little ADHD brain can't stop thinking about this now what the FUCK does this mean

i thought there was weird emphasis on that symbol in that last episode but that last post made it super obvious, except now im wondering beyond the fact that they're similar. it's pretty common for important families to have some sort of family crest, could this have been the wittebane family crest? or more specifically, something pertaining especially to the brothers - and then, considering that possibility and the rearrangement of some of the elements, really had me wondering. so. hear me out-

this leans on the 'belos is phillip' theory, but the wings represent each of the brothers. the larger pair is phillip, the smaller pair represent this ~ * ~ mystery brother ~ * ~. it's interesting that the brother's wings are on the top in the original symbol, above the pair that would represent phillip. perhaps this brother was more well-regarded than him, more notable, leaving phillip in his shadow? that's sort of even backed up by the position of their statues if you want to look at it that way, with the brother boldly placed in front and phillip in the back, not looking as much of a 'leader type' than his brother

in the coven badge, the larger pair of wings is now on top, and the smaller pair on the bottom - and notably, there is a sword through the bottom pair of wings. this just seems like a cool design choice, but i think it might be a metaphor for the fact that Phillip killed his brother. it's already been said that it’s extremely suspicious there’s no mention of his brother in his journal at all, and it's suspicious that there's a second pair of boot prints leading to Eclipse Lake (but not returning) in his retelling that match his own. Phillip obviously didn’t like his brother very much.

My theory?

The Emperor's Coven badge represents making an example of the first person that opposed the man who would become Belos - his own brother.

What reasons would he have to kill his own brother? I can think of a few possibilities.

1. We know Belos' hatred of wild magic supposedly stems from the fact that it took his family, and we know he himself is cursed under mysterious circumstances. He and Eda have some parallels, could it be that, much like Eda, his own sibling was responsible? Except, he found out about it much sooner than she did, and either lashed out in rage, or lost control of himself and killed him by mistake? In both cases, intentional or not, wild magic caused the death of the brother with Phillip as the catalyst.

2. Could it be that Phillip saw natural dangers to wild magic and thought up the coven system, or a similar way to restrain magic? His brother disagreed, saying magic should be kept the way it is, and eventually causing a fight that would lead to the brother’s death? In this case, it wouldn’t necessarily be wild magic directly that took his family, but rather his family’s attachment to it.

3. The other brother was dabbling openly with magic, but his inexperience or cockiness with it caused the death of friends and family they had made in the demon realm, leaving only the two brothers. (Maybe even also cursing his brother in the process?) Phillip has a damn good and direct reason to hate wild magic now, and kills his brother in revenge.

4. FOURTH IDEA I’M THROWING IN HERE REAL QUICK BEFORE POSTING: A twist on the previous idea, Phillip was also dabbling in wild magic, and it was his own inexperience with it that caused the death of his brother, and he shifted the blame to wild magic as a whole to cope.

To take a quick tangent, if we consider the "Rascal was the other Wittebane brother's palisman" theory - it would be interesting if Rascal's scar was from trying to defend his original witch from Belos in the fight that would ultimately claim his life. It would parallel Hunter’s scars too, or at least the one on his face which is implied to have come from Belos.

None of these theories account for why Belos would bring back his brother as Hunter if he wanted him dead so bad though (unless you take #4, in which his death was truly an accident), or his connection to the titan, or why he wants to get back to the human realm 🤔 (magic doesn’t work all that well in the human realm, it would be Really funny if he was just trying to get here in hopes that his curse would go away once he did asdkfljskldf. “bye losers, i’m off to the realm where magic cancer can’t catch me”) But I keep thinking about Dana’s line from the AMA, that “witch & human lifespans are identical, unless they find a way to extend them...” implying that people have done that before.

Like Phillip.

Except my only problem with that is why the hell did Phillip wait like 350 years before becoming emperor?? What was he doing that whole time, sitting in a cave somewhere?? It’s strange that he doesn’t seem to like wild magic because it took something personal from him, implying he thinks he’s keeping people safe and doing them a favor - but at the same time it’s sort of set up that the real reason they’re restricting magic is to keep people weaker and give more power to the covens, which they apparently need for the “day of unity”. The whole “wild magic killed my family :^(” shtick might be a lie entirely, or a severe twisting of the truth. We know Belos is manipulative as hell, who knows if his fondness of the human realm is even genuine? Something, somewhere about what he says is horse shit, but we don’t have enough pieces yet to figure that out. But I’m getting ahead of myself, I meant to just ramble about the connections between this symbol and the Emperor’s Coven badge asldkfkjldf. There’s more mysteries here obviously and we’ve got a whole half season and a mini-season to go.

tl;dr the symbol from the historical society is very directly connected to the Wittebane brothers, Phillip is Belos, Phillip killed his brother and this fact is represented in the Coven badge as what happened to the first person to truly oppose Belos and also what arguably kicked off the empire in the first place.

It’s 1:30 AM and I can’t wait for the third person to see this post go “oh actually,″ and say something that absolutely disproves everything here lmfao. anyway-

[pucktrinksy]

I voted third party in 2016 🙃. I was told it would send a message to the DNC, and it did not. I was told Hillary was probably a foregone conclusion anyway, she was not. I was told that voting third party would be the beginning of a seismic shift in electoral politics, and oh BOY it was not. I was told that Trump would probably be less interventionist on an international scale, and that that would be better for the Palestinians. He moved the U.S. embassy in Israel to Jerusalem, ripped the consulate serving Palestine in the city away, and did EVERYTHING in his power to affirm Zionist supremacy over Palestine.

The people who told me this had disillusioned me with the Democratic establishment, promised that everyone who gave them the finger would be acting righteously for the good of the nation and the world, and that i could help resist the American Empire. They lied, and I played a small part in making things so, so much worse for so many people in my life that I hold dear. When the atrocities committed against the Ukrainians became public, I looked to those people who had so valiantly stood up against the horrors that U.S. had inflicted on the world, and for the first time I saw them for what they were.

You see, when NATO supports an ethnic cleansing it is rightfully vilified for such an act, but when Russia sends its own troops slaughter civilians, target schools, and cleanse Ukraine of any citizen who doesn't welcome Putins army, what do all those green party politicians and journalists say? Well thats just Russia defending itself, sure theres a few buckets of human teeth here, a little ethnic cleansing there, but thats just them standing up to NATO. You see, these people that myself and many others trusted were nothing more than charlatans, stooges that would defend the indefensible just so long as it fit their puppet masters narrative. These monsters justified one genocide while pretending to oppose another.

And I was told. I was told by countless people in 2016 what these RT journalists really were, who the Green Party really was, and I refused to listen. I said they refused to see the truth while they were begging me to open my eyes. It was as clear then as it is now whose interests these people really served. It was clear to anyone why they didn’t want young progressives to vote democrat. It was clear that they were lying, but I couldn’t listen.

Today I see so many people who desperately want to make a change. People who want an end to these atrocities. People who want to make the Democratic Party to see, and listen to them. It makes me scared, and sad, and angry to see so many people in the same position I was eight years ago, and I don’t know what to do to stop them from sitting where I sit now, knowing that the world is so much worse because you wanted to make it better and someone you trusted lied.

I don’t blame anyone for putting their energy into local activism and mutual aid like we’re seeing from so many Palestinian-Americans right now, getting involved like that will do more good for the world than your vote. But please, if your decision is a binary between voting or not voting, please consider what I’ve said. If you can’t vote in good conscience for Biden, then follow the lead of those Palestinians who are protesting and making waves in their local politics, because your passion is a fierce and beautiful thing and it can be used to make real enduring change if you’re willing to get involved outside of sending a message at the polls. Thank you.

after roe v wade got overturned under biden (a constitutional right we had for FIFTY years) i don’t believe any of the goofy “biden is better for domestic issues” rhetoric . you are lying to me and you are lying to yourself

[cruelangelstheses]

on each other’s team

fandom: fire emblem rating: T characters: hilda/edelgard words: 2.2k additional tags: post-canon, post-crimson flower, comedy, forced to work together, unresolved sexual tension description: after an attempt to parley ends in them being knocked out and captured by slithers, hilda and edelgard must work together to free themselves and defeat their captors. a/n: ok so this was written for the 2021 fe3h femslash exchange on ao3 except i kind of forgot tumblr existed and never posted this on here until now. oops! don’t think too much about the politics/lore of this okay i just needed a reason for them to be tied up together in the dark lmao. title from “team” by lorde

read it on ao3

—

It’s quiet, deathly quiet, and darker than the blackest night. The only sound is Hilda’s breathing and that of the woman whose body is squished against hers.

Finally, Hilda can’t take it anymore. She speaks.

“This is your fault, you know.”

Edelgard—Emperor Edelgard—scoffs and shifts slightly. Her back is up against Hilda’s, and the rope that ties them together constricts against Hilda’s chest. More rope binds her hands and feet, and Edelgard’s are probably the same. Hilda tries not to think about how close they are.

“My fault?” Edelgard says. “You’re the one who couldn’t resist bringing a Heroes’ Relic to a parley.”

Hilda rolls her eyes, not that anyone can see it due to her blindfold. “Fine, fine. Blame me for wanting to be safe. Blame me for being a bit cautious about meeting with the emperor I fought in battle against not six months ago. Pretty sure they came here for you, Princess, not my stupid weapon. Of course they’d take advantage of the fact that the Emperor herself was going to be here.”

Edelgard sighs. “I didn’t want to send an envoy because I thought you would trust me more if we spoke in person. And I didn’t want to bring a whole squadron of bodyguards with me for the same reason, as well as so they wouldn’t give away my location. But clearly someone found it regardless.”

It’s only been a couple months since the war ended with the Empire’s victory. About two weeks ago, Hilda received a letter from Edelgard herself asking to meet at Gronder Field, about halfway between Enbarr and Goneril territory. It’s a bit further to travel on Edelgard’s end, but Hilda supposes she wanted to show that she was dedicated to peace talks and negotiations. Or something.

Hilda’s not sure what, exactly, Edelgard had intended to discuss. Probably something to do with the Almyran border, though she could have just sent a message directly to Claude—no, Khalid—or even Holst, for that matter. He’s the one who’s been in charge of fighting the Almyrans at the Throat, though that’s all starting to change now. What does Hilda have to do with any of this?

It doesn’t matter now, of course, because they barely had the chance to speak before they were attacked, knocked out, and tied up together alone in the dark. It feels like they’re moving, and every once in a while, Hilda feels a small bump. They’re probably in a carriage or wagon, being taken somewhere else for…she’s not quite sure what.

This is why Hilda avoided Edelgard at the Academy. There was always something about her—her serious demeanor, her strong will, her ambition—that set off warning bells in Hilda’s head. Don’t get involved with her, they said. You’ll just get caught in her whirlwind. Now look where she is.

“Ugh,” Hilda groans, “who are these guys, anyway? I thought the war was over. If they’re your enemies, then what do I have to do with it?”

“They’re enemies to all of Fódlan, not just me,” Edelgard replies matter-of-factly. “I worked with them in the past, but only because we shared a common enemy in the Church. Now that our alliance is done with, we’re fighting our own war, though most of it takes place in the shadows rather than out in the open.”

If Hilda could, she’d rub her temples. “Sounds exhausting. Finish one war, start another.” Her head hurts just thinking about it.

“After we defeat them, the fighting will be over for good,” Edelgard replies, a sense of conviction in her voice—impressive, considering their current situation. “I swear it.”

“Good to know,” Hilda says, squirming. She’s starting to sweat due to their combined body heat (and definitely no other reason). “But first, I think we should focus on getting out of here.”

“Right,” Edelgard says. “Hubert had a feeling something like this would happen. We have a system set in place. He should be here soon.”

“Ughhh,” Hilda says, both at the mere thought of that creepster and also at the thought of having to wait for him to save them. “You don’t think we can get out of here ourselves? It’s just rope, right?”

She feels Edelgard shrug in response. “We can try.”

She and Edelgard both strain against their bindings, to no avail. Even with their combined muscle—for, despite their short statures, Hilda knows they’re both quite strong—the ropes barely budge.

Hilda kicks her foot out and feels it connect with what is probably one wall of the wagon. She kicks again—and feels something small and sharp jab against the sole of her shoe.

“Oh, hey,” she says. “Help me scoot over here. I think I found something.”

She and Edelgard inch their way closer to the sharp object. With what limited reach she has, Hilda feels around against the wall until her fingers brush against what she thinks is a nail sticking out of the wood.

“A-ha!” she hisses, so as not to alarm whoever might be driving the carriage. She holds her tied-up hands next to the nail and slides the rope back and forth against the rough edge.

It doesn’t cut cleanly, but after a good thirty seconds, the rope tying Hilda’s hands together splits apart and falls to the ground, freeing them along with her lower arms. She bends her neck down and, with her hands unbound, pushes her blindfold away from her face.

The wagon is covered and dark, but there are cracks in the wood that let enough light in for Hilda to see. There doesn’t seem to be much else in here besides them. Huh. Where’d they put Freikugel?

“If your hands are free,” Edelgard says, “do you think you could reach into my left boot?”

With their backs against each other, it’s difficult to maneuver. Edelgard twists her hips and bends her knees until both of her feet are near her left side. The ropes are tight, constricting like a boa and pressing Edelgard’s boots flush against her skin, but Hilda manages to slip her fingers into the left one. She feels the hilt of something metal and slides it out with only mild resistance. Sure enough, it’s a dagger.

“I didn’t particularly want to carry any weapons,” Edelgard says, “but Hubert insisted I at least take that.”

Hilda isn’t sure whether or not that’s the truth, but she supposes she shouldn’t be passing judgment right now, considering that this dagger is going to make things a lot easier for them. She cuts the ropes from Edelgard’s feet, then her own, followed by the thicker ropes tying them both together. When those fall to the floor, she and Edelgard sigh in unison, letting their bodies relax. Hilda cuts the bindings from Edelgard’s wrists and hands her the dagger, and Edelgard removes her blindfold.

“Hm,” Hilda mutters, staring down at her now entirely free body. “Kind of amateurish, if you ask me. If it weren’t for that dark magic knocking us out, I’m sure we could’ve taken them.”

“Something tells me this wasn’t a coordinated attack,” Edelgard says. “I think it might just be a small group who happened across us and decided to strike.”

“Oh, I get it!” Hilda says with a bit of a smirk. “It’s one of those ‘If I capture the Emperor and deliver her to Master, he will finally recognize my worth and promote me to Head Executioner’ things.”

Edelgard snorts. Hilda can’t help but feel mildly proud of herself.

“Anyway,” Edelgard says, “let’s try not to alarm them.”

They stick their heads out of the flaps on the back of the wagon, and Hilda squints against the sunlight. In the distance, she thinks she can see a black horse galloping toward them, with a few other horses just behind them.

“Timely as always,” Edelgard comments as Hubert comes more clearly into view.

Behind him, Hilda thinks she recognizes some of the former Black Eagles—Caspar and Dorothea. She didn’t take either of them for horseback riders, but they seem to be faring well enough.

At the front of the wagon, Hilda thinks she can hear some confused muttering, followed by the wagon slowing down. They probably heard the horses coming.

“So much for stealth,” Hilda says. “Oh, well. Time for payback.” She cracks her knuckles. She likes to pretend to be helpless, but the truth is, she doesn’t need Freikugel to kick these squishy mages’ asses all the way into next Tuesday.

Edelgard stares at her for a moment with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she clears her throat. “Er. Yes. Right.”

Was she…checking Hilda out?

No time to think about that, with their allies now directly in front of them. Caspar tosses a large axe in Edelgard’s direction, and Edelgard catches it with one hand.

It’s Hilda’s turn to gawk at that. Tiny but mighty, indeed—both of them.

She and Edelgard jump out of the wagon, which has now fully stopped. The dark mages, of which there are four, have hopped off their horses, and so have Caspar and Dorothea. Only Hubert remains mounted.

Five on four. This shouldn’t be difficult. They’ve all carved whole armies in half before.

Hilda lunges for the first mage she sees. With an uppercut, she knocks his stupid pointy mask right off his face. Then, while he’s staggering, Edelgard appears from behind her—Hilda didn’t even realize she was still there—and knocks him to the ground with the blunt end of her axe. She spins it around and points the blade at his neck.

“Who ordered this attack?” she demands, effortlessly assuming the role of the powerful emperor.

The mage hesitates. He seems to be looking somewhere behind him. Hilda glances over her shoulder and finds that the rest of his allies are in a similar state, with Hubert, Caspar, and Dorothea having each taken one down. It’s true, then—they’re amateurs, having only gotten the jump on Hilda and Edelgard due to stealth. Without that on their side, they’ve crumbled.

“Er, n-no one,” the mage stammers. “It was just us. Please, spare us!”

Edelgard and Hubert exchange glances. Hilda doesn’t doubt that Hubert would end them all without a second thought. But Edelgard…is she as ruthless as her second-in-command?

“Very well,” Edelgard says, turning back to the mage and removing the blade from his neck. “I doubt you will be telling your leader anything about your foolishness or your humiliating failure.”

The mage shakes his head rapidly.

“Then go,” Edelgard says. “All of you. Leave before I change my mind.”

The mages scramble to their feet and climb back on their horses. One of them drops Freikugel from where it had been resting on the front seat of the wagon. Hilda picks it up and slings it over her shoulder so that it rests against her back. Within a few seconds, the mages and their wagon are on their way, barreling down the path.

Edelgard lowers her axe. Hubert looks like he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue for the time being.

“Good work, everyone,” Edelgard says. “Hilda, I apologize deeply for the inconvenience. Incidentally, the matter I had intended to speak with you about is the same one you just saw for yourself.”

Hilda frowns. “Wait. So it doesn’t have anything to do with Almyra?”

“That’s only a small part of it,” Edelgard says. “If that had been my only concern, you likely would not have been the person I would have contacted. But I need all the allies I can get in the fight against Those Who Slither in the Dark, and you were suggested to me.”

“Those Who Slither in the Dark?” Hilda repeats with a snort. “That’s what they’re called?”

Edelgard puts a hand to her forehead. “Hubert came up with the name. We still don’t know what they actually call themselves.”

Hilda crosses her arms over her chest. “So, what, you came here to ask me if I wanted to join your cause?”

“In essence, yes,” Edelgard says. A tiny smile graces her lips. “It appears you and I work well together. I would be sure to compensate you appropriately if you agreed to lend me your hand—and your blade—once again.”

Hilda can hear that little voice in her head again, telling her to refuse. You’ll only have to do more work, it says. You won’t live up to her expectations. You’ll disappoint her. Besides, nothing good can come of getting involved with her. But that’s not necessarily true, now, is it?

Hilda thinks about how they helped each other without a second thought. She thinks about Edelgard’s body pressed against hers, thinks about Edelgard’s laugh at Hilda’s little quip.

“Well,” Hilda says, cocking her hip, “I suppose if you really want me to join you…”

Caspar cheers. Dorothea runs up to Hilda and slings an arm around her shoulders. “That’s a yes,” she sings triumphantly. “Let’s go, everyone! Enbarr awaits.”

As she drags Hilda over to one of the horses, Hilda thinks she sees Dorothea wink at Edelgard. Edelgard’s face burns bright red, and she makes a throat-cutting motion with her finger.

Hilda tries—and fails—to hold back a mischievous grin. Perhaps working with the Emperor won’t be so bad after all.

[boimgfrog]

hey @pantoranprincess​ i uh. i wrote it <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139768

full fic under the cut

The two men were seated at a table, enjoying lunch despite the… cozy size of Luke’s office. Conversation flowed easily, albeit mostly one-sided.

               “anyways, that’s when I saw Obi-Wan, my first master-” Luke paused, noticing Din’s helmet tilt slightly at the name, “you do know who Obi-Wan was, right?”

               Din froze, not expecting the Jedi to pick up on his confusion, “the name sounds familiar… Bo-Katan mentioned him once,” he took a sip from his straw, “said he was a sister-seducing- man-whore? Was he some kind of escort?”

               He waited as his words washed over Luke. The jedi blinked twice, a smile flickering past his lips.

               “yes,” Luke nodded, “he was, excellent job,” he spooned more soup into his own bowl, hiding his smile behind its large spoon.

               “and he was your master?” Din asked, tilting his head forward.

               “mhmm,” Luke set the spoon back into the bowl, matching din’s gaze through his lashes, “taught me everything he knew,”

               Din coughed, turning his attention back towards his lunch. he sipped at it, ignoring the blush that crept under his helmet.

The jedi huffed, eyes twinkling. Something told Din that maybe, just maybe, he’d lied about the Obi-wan thing.

                                                          -><-

The back of Luke’s head hit the ground, pulling a wheeze from his body. Above him, Din stood poised, cradling a very fussy green toddler. He extended a hand toward the fallen jedi, but Luke waved him off, leaning up on his elbows.

“’s nothing, no offense but,” he gestured to Grogu, who had calmed down some, “he’s no Vader, I’ll be fine,” this time, he accepted Din’s hand, hardly dwelling on how easily he pulled him up.

“Vader?” Din asked, shifting the baby to his hip, and pocketing the darksaber he’d previously been using.

Luke looked up at the Mandalorian, tilting his head with a smile, “Darth Vader? The emperor’s right-hand man?”

Din’s helmet betrayed to hint of recognition. Unbelievable. No way, there’s no way he was this clueless.

“big cape, scary helmet? Red lightsaber?” Luke tried, wracking his brain.

“oh, you mean like the guy on those old recruitment posters?”

“those- the recruitment posters?”

Din nodded, “I’d see ‘em plastered up in bars and stuff, back before the empire fell,”

Recruitment posters. Din, one of the best bounty hunters Luke had ever met, king of Mandalore himself, had only heard of Darth Vader via recruitment posters. Luke felt his chest flutter. He nodded along with whatever Din said next, mind elsewhere. If he hadn’t heard of Darth Vader… what else had he managed to miss?

                                                         -><-

“Din!” Luke called from down the hallway, footsteps tripping as he ran inside Din’s ship, “Din! My sister’s here,” he said, knocking on the solid metal hull, “She wants to meet you!” his voice made it sound like an important event, though Din could hardly see why exchanging niceties with the sister of a backwater jedi warranted such flare.

“mm,” Din pulled back the door, peering down at Luke who was bouncing on his toes, “why?”

Luke ignored him, grabbing Din by his gloved hand, and dragging him towards his office, “this could be a big opportunity for you,” he rattled on, eyes shining beneath his mess of dust-streaked hair, “it’s good for you to make connections like this, given your newly-found title-”

“connections?” Din interrupted, “what do you mean?”

Luke spared a confused glance back at the Mandalorian, still steadily walking him towards his sister, “my sister? Leia Organa?”

Din offered up no response, but Luke was enamored by it nonetheless. He could understand not knowing much about galactic history, after all, he was under the impression that Din lead a particularly... sheltered childhood. But things that were happening now? The new republic?

“she was the princess of Alderaan? She helps lead the New Republic?”

“Alderaan...” Din paused, “that’s the one that blew up, right?”

“yes,” Luke dropped Din’s hand, unhooking the tarp that shielded his office from view, “yes, it’s the one that blew up,”

“mm,” Din hummed thoughtfully, “is she a jedi too?”

“sort of, I’ve been helping her train,” Luke said, checking his hair in the gleam of Din’s helmet.

“must’ve been why they blew up Alderaan then,” Din held still, “they were trying to kill her before she got too powerful,”

Luke’s hands stilled. He stared up into the Mandalorian’s visor, “huh,” he said, unable to stop his lips from twitching, “maybe so,” Luke turned around, brushing the tarp aside for Din to enter, hiding his smile behind the fabric.

                                                          -><-

It was almost cute, how little Din seemed to know about the galaxy he lived in. it didn’t really matter, of course. Most of it was just history lessons, nothing that would seriously impede him on a mission or in battle. And he wasn’t stupid by any means. He could speak more languages than Luke could count on his hands, flesh and robotic, and had flight skills that could rival even the most trained X-wing pilot. Still, it was hard not to feel fond when the Mandalorian only just now realized that Luke and Leia were twins.

“how was I supposed to know!”

“Din, starlight, our father would’ve been found out the second one of us was born, how exactly did you think he managed to swerve the jedi code to have another baby?”

“listen-” Din huffed, biting back his argument when he saw how ecstatic Luke was over this whole ordeal. Luke only nodded along expectantly, crossing one leg over the other. He was nothing if not encouraging.

“to be fair,” Din started, scowling at Luke’s twinkling smile, “she’s a princess, and you grew up on Tatooine,” he huffed, “and you never mentioned your dad was a jedi,” he added quickly, hoping Luke would miss it in his euphoria. No such luck.

“Din,” Luke stood up, reaching to cradle the Mandalorian’s helmet in his hands, “Anakin Skywalker? Did you think that was a coincidence?”

“it’s a big galaxy, there’s like half a billion ‘Djarin’s out there,” Din answered, but the bite had left his voice. It was hard to be frustrated when Luke was so close, all soft smiles and saying “Din” like it was a prayer.

Din leaned into the jedi’s touch. He’d blame it on the weight of his helmet later, and Luke would play along, teasingly offering to hold the helmet if it ever got too heavy. It was only ever teasing though. Luke never asked for more than Din was willing to give.

                                                         -><-

 They were pressed together, Din’s arm wrapped lazily around Luke’s waist, the jedi’s head leaning against his cold, armored shoulder. The beaches on Luke’s planet were nothing special, but the sunsets, oh the sunsets were spectacular. Grogu had been poking at Luke’s brain all day, playing memories of beach days on coruscant and building sandcastles with the crechemasters, until Luke finally caved and suited the baby up for a day in the water, inviting Din along.

Grogu had the time of his life, taking turns force-throwing sand at his dad and splashing his master until they joined in the fun. After a full day of entertaining the little gremlin, though, the two men had decided to impose Nap Time on the kiddo, sprawling out together on one of the many beach towels Luke had brought. (“you didn’t grow up on Tatooine, Din. Trust me, sand gets everywhere��)

The baby was fast asleep against Din’s armor, wrapped up so his head didn’t get bruised by the beskar.

“this was nice, huh?” Luke asked, shifting to look up at the Mandalorian. His eyes brushed over the thin stripe of exposed facial hair before he pulled his gaze away, embarrassed. Even the smallest of glimpses got his heart racing. Ridiculous, honestly.

“mhmm,” Din absentmindedly rubbed circles on Grogu’s back with his thumb, “could’ve done without all the sand in my armor, though,”

Luke laughed, “ugh I know,” he shifted again, pulling his arms from the poncho he was wearing, “I always get so much sand and dust in my hand, it’s the worst,”

Din tilted his helmet, “in your hand?”

“yeah,” Luke fiddled with his glove, pulling it off before tugging on one of his fingers, revealing the intricate system of wires, “you didn’t know?”

Din knew he was staring, and he knew that wasn’t polite but he just- “you’re… part droid?”

Luke laughed at that, a full, hearty laugh, one that had him gasping for air and rolling on his back. Din reached for his hand, holding it up so that it didn’t hit the sand as Luke fell back.

“yes,” Luke said, catching his breath, “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he flicked his finger again, closing the wiring hatch. Din hadn’t removed his hand, so Luke twisted their fingers together, “you really didn’t know?”

“how was I supposed to?”

“the lifting things six times my weight didn’t tip you off?”

Din sputtered, “you’re a jedi??? You lift things six times your weight all the time???”

That got Luke laughing again, eyes twinkling in the setting sun. He was teasing Din, yes, but he was also so, so deeply fond of him. This, Luke asking questions, Din answering truthfully even though it made him look silly, this was everything to Luke. Luke trusted the Mandalorian, of course he did, and this made Luke feel like Din trusted him as well. just the thought alone was enough to make the Jedi smile wider, letting his head fall against the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more.

                                                           -><-

Luke paced around Din’s ship. It was bigger than his last one, and somehow even harder to navigate.

“Din, where’s your holoprojector?” Luke had promised to tell Leia when they were getting close, and they’d be closing in on Coruscant within the hour.

“don’t have one,” came the response from the dashboard, stopping Luke in his tracks.

“don’t- do you at least have a data pad?” no holoprojector? Maybe Din was poorer than Luke thought.

“yeah,” Din shuffled around for a moment, before handing Luke a beat-up data pad that was at least a century old.

“Din this thing is ancient,” he said, frowning at the actual layer of crust on the screen, “does it even have holonet?”

“nope,”

“wh-“ Luke was dumbfounded, “how do you get your news? What if something big happens??”

“if I need to know it, someone will tell me,” Din said as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, but the thought left Luke reeling.

“Din, starlight, you didn’t know who Darth Vader was,”

“I did so-”

“yeah, from recruitment posters-”

“it still counts-”

“no it doesn’t-”

They fought like that for a moment, back and forth, until it dawned on Luke.

“holy stars,” he said, cutting Din’s rant short, “Din, is this why you didn’t know about Obi-Wan? And Anakin being my father? And Leia and the new republic?” Luke sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, scooping up Grogu and setting him in his lap.

Din grumbled, turning his attention back to hyperspace, “it wasn’t important,”

“starlight it was Darth Vader-”

The two started arguing again, bickering in that old married couple kind of way. Luke couldn’t help but smile at the situation. All this time, all these silly little accidents and conversations, all because the Mandalorian hadn’t bothered to install a holoprojector in his ship. It was amazing, really.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, you don’t know anything about Mandalorian culture,”

“Din no one knows anything about Mandalorian culture,”

Din slumped in his seat, hands gripping loosely at the steering controls. Luke leaned forward, bumping the Mandalorian’s with his head until Din faced him, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“hey,” Luke said in hushed tones, “for the record, I thought it was kinda hot,”

Din let out a breathy laugh, pulling back slightly to look in the jedi’s eyes.

“that says more about you than it does me, Skywalker,”

Luke matched his laugh, Din joining in before resting his forehead against Luke’s again. They were gonna get an earful from Leia when they landed without a party to welcome them, but for now they would simply rest, all shiny armor and gentle curls, bathed in the glow of hyperspace.

[cc-0420]

au of an au: han and boba parent trap cody and obi-wan

“i’m not doing it.”

“is it really that bad?”

“there is no negotiations. you are his excellency’s best bounty hunter,” the droid translated as the slug looked to boba, “and you are his best smuggler,” he said turning to han. “the two of you will have to work together for this job or neither will get paid nor have his services again.”

“if it’s full pay, i’m in,” han responded, “no reason to turn away from this job.”

“you doubt pirates, child?” han scowls at that. “both you and fett will get the pay promised if you complete the task.”

fett didn’t even glance at han from his helmet, “if he dies, it’s not my fault,” and walks out the door.

“man, you need to chill,” han follows him like a loth-cat, “we got a better chance together, right?”

not responding to the question, “we’re taking my ship,” boba sneers, continuing his path.

“you know, my ship made the kessel run in less than 12 parsecs!”

“i don’t care.”

~~~

the ride to florrum was silent as the two men were up to their own devices. upon landing they were greeted by a group of pirates.

“what can i do for you, boys?” what han assumed was the leader inquired.

before han had a chance to speak, his companion butt in, “we were hired to pick up the product for jabba. i assume you are hondo?”

i see he avoided mentioning that were to capture this hondo under jabba’s orders, han thought, would cody do this? Maybe he should’ve commed him for advice.

“captain hondo, i am. best pirate in the galaxy,” he made a jester to the building, “come on in and we can get you a drink to settle in-“

everything went black.

~~~

“why did you do that? the drugging normally works!” a voice broke out from the ringing in his ears

“sorry, boss, but I thought the helmeted one was going to pull a blaster on you.”

after a moment, han’s eyes were finally able to peel open. he was inside a cell, it seemed, with two weequays watching him, one of which being hondo. before he could quip to them, they already left and locked the door.

han began to look around, his mind running the simulators cody would make him go through for situations such as these, when his eyes landed on the body in armor.

he snorted, not so mighty, are you, fett?

han worked to untie the bonds from his arms, then shifting to the door. kriff, he’s never seen anything like it.

suddenly, a moan was heard as fett began waking up, “what the kriff happened?”

“we got captured, no thanks to you.”

“well, it’s not like you did anything!”

“i’m a smuggler. hurting people is not my job!”

fett didn’t respond, but han would bet 10 credits he was rolling his eyes under his helmet.

“did you try and get out?”

“if i could, i wouldn’t be here,” yet still held up his free wrists, “I’ve never seen a lock like this,” han continued pointing towards the door.

“i wouldn’t have expected you to. hondo has captured jedi before. he knows his stuff,” by then, fett already freed his hands.

“how do you-?”

“ah! you boys are up!” before han could finish his question, hondo was already barging in, “and yes. i once captured my best friend, obi-wan kenobi and a few other force users in this cell.”

“oh, i know. though he wouldn’t consider you a best friend.”

“how would you know? sadly, he is long dead. i was sad to hear when the jedi were killed. he will always have a special place in my heart.”

fett scoffed, “thanks for the story. can we leave?”

“nope, jabba’s been a pain in my side for years. instead, we’ll bargain you off for the highest bidder. you both seem pretty valued by the empire…” hondo ended walking out.

“that hypocrite!”

“oh, stop pouting under there.”

the next day passed slowly, the door only opening for food. han was growing homesick. he was with cody for 5 years now and chewbacca 2. he’s taken jobs without them, but at least he was kept busy. fett lounged in his corner, sitting still. it was creepy how he never took off the mask, and han made sure to let him know.

one night, he pulls out his holo of cody. it was hard to forget, but it was easier to have on him on long missions away. the glow from it lit up the room and caught the bounty hunter’s attention.

“what’s that?”

“none of your business,” han reached to turn it off. fett clearly saw it and reached into his own armor.

he pulled out his own holocron and the same picture emerged, cody and a man with red hair and beard. when he first received the holo, han would ask cody about the man in the robes, but would always get brushed off. he learned not to ask as he recognized the faraway look in his eyes.

“how do you have that?” han spit out. cody was his family, through thick and thin and fett wasn’t welcome.

“ben is my guardian,” he said pointing to the other man.

“you know him?”

“obviously.”

the thick air was broken by fett first

“how do you know cody?”

“he’s my father,” and before fett could respond, “well, the closest thing to a father i ever had.”

fett stared again and before han could say anything else, he reached for the helmet.

underneath was the eyes he knew to love. the lips that pulled into a firm line whenever han misbehaved. the nose that would scrunch up when han disgusted him. in front of him was a young copy of cody. a clone.

“you’re a clone.”

“i’m a person.”

“why are you younger than cody?”

“cause i’m a person.”

that didn’t answer han’s questions.

“do you work for the empire like the clones?” fett asked.

“what do you mean? cody doesn’t work for the empire. the clones are there against their will! there’s chips in their brain! cody told me!”

“really?” unlike most times he talked, fett wasn’t being sarcastic, “if that’s true…”

“so, cody knows ben?” han pushed. cody told him many stories of his brothers, but not much of anything else.

“he was his jedi general before he shot him down,” fett’s eyes trailed their faces on the holo, “no one knew of the chips and began blaming the clones.”

“is that why you wear the mask?”

“no!” boba rose from his makeshift seat, “how many times do i have to tell you i’m not one of them? this helmet was my fathers. i was never a mindless soldier.”

“they’re not mindless soldiers!” growing irritated, han thought back to all the times cody stood up for him when he was in trouble. the tales he would tell of his brothers.

boba shrunk at that and whispered to himself, “they’re not mindless soldiers.”

the silence fell over them again. han trying to make out the emotions on boba’s face, while he was looking anywhere but at han.

“cody was a better brother to me than he should have been. i treated the clones like scum, but now i know this truth,” boba waved his hand around, “he never would have wanted us to fight. neither would ben.”

“i’m sorry for your loss.”

“excuse me?” boba stared, “ben is not dead,”

han stared back, “what? you said cody shot him. and cody never talks about him.”

“well,” boba paused, thinking of the pros and the cons. pros being that ben could see cody again and boba wouldn’t have to watch him be all weepy. con would be that han is lying. he weighed his options before coming to a decision, “that was the point. the jedi had to be believed to have been wiped out.”

han contemplated on his end. despite never talking about ben explicitly, cody always talked about how amazing his general was. if fett really knew him, and it seemed like he definitely did, maybe they could come to an agreement, “cody would want to know.”

“i know,” before thinking, boba added on, “they cared for each other too much.”

rather than dwell on that phrase, “can we get them to meet up again? after we get out of here.”

“ben wouldn’t want to give up his position,” boba put his holo away, “but you are right about them wanting to know. i have an idea.”

~~~

the escape was easy once the two worked together. they also decided, screw jabba and abandoned their mission. both of them were smart enough not to have a debt with him anyway.

they decided that they will each send a signal to their respected guardians saying they need help on tatooine due to a mission gone wrong. it was easy for han to come cody, in which the commander responded he’ll be there in a few hours. on the other hand, boba didn’t have a comm for ben, with the fear of giving up his position. instead, he got in contact with a tuskin raider.

han stared in shock as boba let out a series of growls and hand motions to the creatures before they ran off. at his disgruntled look, boba replied with a simple, “ben helped them out a couple times,” that didn’t answer any of his questions.

ben got their first. he looked much more aged compared to the holo. the man gave boba his best wtf face. “kenobi,” han’s head shot up at that, “sorry to bring you out here.”

suddenly, the man locked up, all emotion wiped and reaching in his robes, “are you turning me in boba?”

“no, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he looked to han, “this is a companion i made on my last bounty. he has some news for you.”

really, fett? you’re making me talk? luckily, cody’s ship was pulling in overhead, but the elderly man got more on edge. han quickly reached for his holo and pulled open the picture of the men.

“umm, this is my father figure,” he said pointed to cody, “boba said he knew you and that you should talk it out.”

ben glanced between him, boba, and the ship that was slowly opening up.

“i didn’t give away our position, but you need to know,” boba said, looking towards the ship.

cody emerged and rushed to han, enveloping him into a hug, “are you alright? did these people help you?”

his eyes swept over boba, not recognizing the armor and turned to ben who was looking at him like he saw a ghost.

“general?”

“cody?”

“i’m sorry. i couldn’t- i’m sorry…”

before he could go on, obi-wan swept him into a hug, “it’s okay, commander, it’s okay…”

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress- Darker the Weather // Better the Man

Warnings: topics from the empress, Violence

Sarah laid on the makeshift cot. Lately with how everything had been pulled out, the war seemed like it had no end. Her eyes danced dully well her fingers fiddled with the locket from her lovers. Tears easily welled her eyes at the thought of them waiting for her.

Distant, everything is scattered

She missed them, she missed them more than she thought she truly would. The way their fingers danced warmly around her locks. Or how mornings were spent wrapped up tightly within her wives arms, the cold artic air contrasting to the warm blankets. She just missed the softness of the lingering moments.

When your mind is shattered and torn apart

She knew the war wouldn't last forever, yet with every passing day, it seemed the ending was fading. Sarah knew she shouldn't be mad at Technoblade or (y/n), but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it started with (y/n), the way she clinged and lulled the grand emperor into a false sense of pride. She easily Loathed that. Everyone within the empire assumed the Emperor was in control, but Sarah- being the general, knew exactly who had the power.

In an instant, I can be indifferent

But could she really bring herself to hate her? After all she was pregnant with the Emperor's baby as of currently.

She knew she shouldn't, yet it was so easy...

When she walked into the tent to see the Grand Emperor packing his things- it left her seething. He was going to leave them- leave his troops- his people- people who gave so much in hopes to end the conflict quickly. Technoblade should have known others were missing important family events, yet here they stood, proudly serving under his name.

The blame is always shifted from the start

And it was all because She, called- begged, him to come home.

She couldn't linger about any longer, she needed to distract herself. So grabbing a cloak she left the base camp, although some of the men asked about where she was leaving too. Sarah simply wiped her eyes with pride and assured them of her return.

Leafless treetops in the snow

Views of death and bitter cold

The walk towards the nearby village was a bore. Due to the cold, barely any animals found home within the snow, anymore Sarah was starting to see the appeal of moving somewhere warmer.

Instead of visiting a bakery or a warm café, Sarah found herself wondering into a bar. Perusal, only the odd were within the warm walls. Brute men and sly women hogging up around the bar.

Without a step of hesitance she took her seat at the bar, the two brooding men beside her looked as if they should have scared her off. Yet when they tried to comment on Sarah's seat she simply sent a cold glare. Towards them, a wordless death threat of silence.

When the men backed off, they ultimately decided to move seats completely. In turn a younger gentleman took their seats.

Sarah didn't acknowledge him, something seemed off about it, yet she couldn't place her finger quite on it. The man took a glance to her, his fluffier Blonde hair radiating a familiar tone.

"You seemed troubled..." the man purred, sending Sarah into a eyeroll. Typical men. She thought, knowing exactly where this was leading.

"Don't think like that." The man said, his green eyes flashing slightly as a warning. "I'm only here to hear out a strangers problem... I'm hear to help." He mused.

Although Sarah was offset and held the high urge to not tell a thing to this man. Something told her it was worth it. She needed to get it off her chest.

So she did.

And through that, she felt her nerves lessen. With layer, and layer dropped about Technoblade, his wife, his family, everything. She felt a silver lining.

Something that should have stuck out to her however, was when she went on about Technoblade, the Man seemed to just know everything about him. Even things she didn't know- things that seemed future related. It was odd.

Yet here she found herself, drink in hand, explaining her problems to a lost man at a bar. Through the end of her rant, the only thing he had to say was "Men are hard, but im sure you've herd it before..." at the line she shrugged and looked to her glass.

The swirling bourbon within held her reflection, but something eerier about it, was when she glanced to the man inside the glass. The reflection, although looking exactly like the man beside her, when looking closer she saw halo's crossing over his face, Golden beams of bended light.

When she looked back to the man, he was looking at her unamused. "You know, there is a saying out there, that you may find, useful..." the man said.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

"What is the saying..." Sarah asked cautiously, now alarmed from the mans reflection. She watched the man take a drink before smiling- almost sinisterly.

"The Darker the Weather, the Better the Man" he said. Sarah gave a odd look to him, not understanding, but it didn't take long for the man to elaborate. "Say something hardens the man your talking about. Something that will truly drive him cold. He may turn out better than you expected. After all, weaklings rarely survive war." The man said casually.

The line rang around inside Sarah's mind, what could make techno so cold, that he refused to go home. The man watched her, trying his best to hide the wicked smile he held.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

And then it hit her. Almost like sheer brilliance, it hit her dead on.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

The letters to you.

You can't have my-

When Wilbur was tasked with waking you up, it was easy to say he was always overjoyed. With techno being absent from your side, Wil always tried his best to make you smile. Sometimes even Tommy would tag along.

Of course, Tommy didn't understand the severity of the moment how heartbroken and lost you felt, but he could easily tell you were sad at the least. So he also tried to cheer you up.

Sun shines through an open window

So on days he woke you, he would often run into Technoblade room, your silhouette laying within the oversized bed. He often viewed it as misplaced for how lonely your body looked.

But that didn't ever stop him from pulling the curtains open, the light rarely shined brightly through the glass, but in the end it did allow more light within. Well Wilbur pulled the curtains, tommy would often bounce on your bed, doing his best to make you smile.

Close the curtains real slow to hide the light

Although you would hide your face and try to hide, tommy wouldn't stop his smiling and joyful laugh. Yet Wilbur would always watch how your eyes would linger to techno's side of the bed. Wilbur hadn't seen the letters between you and techno, but he always saw how they tore you up. Whatever he was saying was hurting you, and Wilbur despised it.

But in time, maybe I can change it

At the least Wilbur was thankful you had Orion beside you, he was able to calm most of your haywire nerves. Of course, Wilbur never liked how close he was to you. But, he understood it was a time where you just needed someone.

We'll find someone who feels the same as me

Wilbur saw how you tried to hide your pain, your long nights spent crying, the days you refused to eat, the way you refused to acknowledge techno's lost presence. It was obvious who you were not on good terms.

Wilbur couldn't help his curiosity, he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway. When you had left your office for bed Wilbur snuck in, it was the first time he was in Technoblade office alone. The sword you made held high on the wall, truthfully it was poetic.

On a plaque underneath it, was lettering inscribed "the Empress" like the embodied empress, the sword similarly hung alone. With care he slid into your chair, slowly pulling the letters out to read.

You broke me down and stole my soul

And oh was his pissed. For good reason, he saw why everyone was so upset with him.

Left me vacant and all alone

Out of everyone, Orion was the one to see you at your worst. Never had he assumed he would have been so close to someone that he would have gave everything to take your pain away. It left his blood boiling to see you hurt the way you were.

Months of being alone, feeling lost, unloved, unwelcomed. It truly left him with a burning hate. Orion knew he could treat you so much better, that he could take care and provide for you and your infant child.

Over the time techno was gone, he felt he was the only commander to truly hate his leader. Hate what he puts others through, he hated the sorrow he brought along.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

But nothing compared to the pure rage Orion felt when he herd what techno did to you. When you all rested at Foolish's summer home, you didn't lay with techno right off the bat, instead you explained what happened between techno and you.

And Orion was livid.

Techno had put his hands on you- had put his hands on your throat. Orion felt every bone in his body scream to get even. No one raises a hand to those they love, it was just a unspoken law. Orion would have taken to Technoblade as well, only thing holding him back was your tender soft words.

"Please don't- please Orion... let it stay between us..." you begged to him. Soft doe eyes pleading to the Enderian.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

Although it gnawed at Orion’s heart, he respected your call and left it lie. But that didn't stop what fallowed.

With the Enderian's blood flowing strong with rage, emotion, and the urge to defend, he couldn't help the way his eyes slit with the dragons hue, the blood curdling purple that drove fear into those around him.

You were far down the hall, everyone was asleep, it was a perfect time to let everything go.

You can't have my

And go he did..

He had never felt it, even though his blood ran with the Enderian's, he had never felt his anger hit the point of breaking.

The point that others forewarned him about. The point where his jaw would dislocate and his skin would tear open to allow the canines of a monster to show.

It wasn't a side he thought he had.

You can't have my

Yet when the thought laced through his mind again. The thought of techno putting his hands on you, he felt the pop, and the blinding rage that fallowed. Throwing the nearest object as he let the curdling scream out.

You can't have my soul

When techno undressed for the night, he couldn't explain the shame and hurt that he felt. He couldn't meet his own gaze within the mirror. He knew you were willing to bathe with him again. Lay for the night and try and wish it to be what it once was.

But he knew he Hurt you. He knew it wasn't his direct doing, but he was involved- he took it too far.

He could still see the nail marks from where you grabbed his face, he hoped it wasn't the same for your neck.

He didn't deserve you.

He knew it. The way he lashed and you too willing asked him to bathe with you like it was over. You taking his hands, his face his body into your hands, you were truly too wonderful. To amazing for him.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

When you stepped into the bathroom he saw your tired eyes, your arms firmly around Thena. He saw how attached you were to her. She was your world, she was the world techno wanted to live with.

Techno knew he had no right to ask to hold her, not after what he had done to his tiny family. Yet he couldn't help but want to feel you and her in his arms. He wanted to redeem himself and show you he was worthy enough to protect you both.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

After all he was still your husband and her father in the end, it was his job, his one thing he cannot mess up. He knew others were on the line. Others more important than a endless battalion, you were his wife, his life, the mother of his daughter.

You were his world.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

So from that day, he swore. Dare anyone lay a hand on his wife, and daughter. He would raise hell upon them.

He would never loose you too like he almost did.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART EIGHT

:Masterlist:

Warnings: just swearing, I think :)

A/N: oof I’m bad at posting on time but here’s part eight! thank you all for your feedback on the last part and feel free to let me know what you think about this part too <3

-

October 1994

“Ow.”

You groaned as you collapsed in the middle seat of the back of Bobby’s car, so tired that you practically fell asleep the second you got off your feet. It was your second weekend in a row of playing all day shows, and every part of your body was screaming at you in exhaustion.

“Remind me why we’re happy about this gig again?” Alex grumbled from the passenger seat, stretching out his no-doubt sore fingers. 

Next to you, Reggie had slumped in his seat. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Even Luke, who was usually still full of adrenaline after a performance, looked a little deflated as he secured his guitar into the trunk and piled into the car. As soon as he sat down in his usual seat on your left, he dropped his entire weight on you, making you fall into Reggie.

“You okay there, Lu?” You asked as you sat as up-right as you could with him still leaning on your shoulder. He muttered sleepily in response and you laughed. “Guys, I think Luke’s dead.”

“I don’t blame him. I’m pretty sure that’s the hardest we’ve ever played.” Bobby sighed as he pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive in the direction of Reggie’s house to drop him off. You relaxed into your seat, watching the lights fly by the window. You all sat in comfortable silence until Bobby pulled up to a red light and turned around to look at all of you. “Votes for just crashing at the garage?”

You agreed immediately since the studio was a lot closer than any of your houses, and having Bobby drive when he was tired probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

“I could definitely go for not going home.” Alex said and you smiled at him sympathetically. Reggie agreed and turned to ask Luke, but all he got was the sound of quiet snoring in response. You all laughed as Bobby turned around and started driving to his house.

The quiet rumble of the car on the road and the warmth of Luke’s skin against yours was making you more and more tired by the second. You leaned over and rested your head on top of his and closed your eyes.

The drive to the garage was shorter than you thought, but by the time you got there, you were practically ready to pass out.

It took all your energy to gently coax Luke out of your shoulder and hop out of the car to help Bobby unload the equipment out of the trunk and back into the loft. While you were up there, you grabbed a pile of sleeping bags and blankets to give to the boys who were now arguing over what to watch.

They settled on The Empire Strikes Back, per Reggie’s request. You watched it absentmindedly from your spot on the couch, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. The more time went by, the more your tiredness faded away, leaving you restless and frustrated. When the movie reached the halfway point, you had officially given up on sleeping.

You didn’t realize that you were sighing until Luke, who was laying on the floor under your head, opened his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You muttered.

“It’s okay, I can’t sleep either.” Luke said. “Not when Alex snores like a bear.”

You laughed, looking over to Alex who was sleeping deeply across the room, his snore blocking out the sound of the movie. “Yeah, thank god he’s the only one that does that.”

“Are you trying to say that I snore?” Luke gasped, squinting when you laughed and nodded your head at him. After a minute of silence, Luke looked up at you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” You said.

“Why didn’t you want to go home?” He asked. “Everything okay with your mom?”

“Yeah, she’s just been working a lot lately and it feels weird being home alone.” You said. “What about your mom?”

Luke was quiet for a minute, so quiet that you almost thought that he fell asleep until he let out a deep sigh. He had told you that things were getting rockier between him and his parents everyday but you could tell by the grimace on his face that something more was going on. “She threatened to make me quit the band.”

“Wait, what?” You said a little too loudly.

“I got an F on a test and she flipped out.” Luke explained. “But if I pass the next one, hopefully she’ll stay off me for a while.”

“I’m surprised that she even let you stay here tonight.” You said.

“Yeah, about that.” Luke cringed. “I didn’t exactly ask her.”

You sighed and shook your head. “You know she’s gonna kill you when you go home tomorrow, right?”

He rolled his eyes but then quickly switched to his puppy-dog look. “Come with me?”

“What? No, I’m not gonna be your accomplice.”

“Please?” Luke begged. “She loves you, and there’s no way she’d kill me if you were there.”

You sighed, cursing yourself for not being able to resist his stupid face. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Luke beamed.

You reached your arm from the couch and pushed his face lightly. “Go to sleep, weirdo.”

-

2020

Being dead was boring.

You had poured over your songbook a dozen times, walked laps around the studio, and absentmindedly threw darts against the wall.

Normally, you would drag Alex out into the city or make Reggie sing country songs with you, but everyone was off getting ready for the gig tonight.

So with nothing better to do, you decided to visit Julie at school. You closed your eyes and poofed into the crowded hallway. You spotted Julie putting books into her locker and you phased right next to her.

“Hi.” You greeted and Julie jumped, letting out a quiet squeal.

“(Y/n)! Normal people don’t do that and ghosts definitely shouldn’t. “What are you doing here?” She asked, smiling awkwardly at people who were giving her weird looks as they passed down the hall.

“Well, I think we should decide what song we’re going with tonight.” You said and Julie tilted her head at you and squinted, knowing that you weren’t telling the whole truth. “Okay, and I was also really bored at the studio.”

“So I’m your entertainment?” She questioned as she dug her phone out of her pocket and raised it to her ear so it didn't look like she was talking to herself.

“Yep, you’re stuck with me.” You smiled sweetly.

“Who knew ghosts were so clingy?” She joked, struggling to hold back a smile when you pouted back at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with that mysterious guy from the café last night? Teddy?”

“I figured I’d be too busy getting ready for the gig so I just swung by and told him to come to the show.” You explained, making Julie raise her eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing.” She clicked her tongue. "I’m sure Luke is gonna love that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, Luke doesn’t get to have an opinion.”

“I don’t get to have an opinion on what?” A voice asked from behind you and you whirled around to find Luke leaning against the lockers with a smile. You had been so distracted talking to Julie that you didn’t even hear him phase in behind you.

“The fact that we’re doing ‘Edge of Great’ tonight.” You said quickly, desperately hoping that he bought your lie. Thankfully, he seemed to believe you.

“Sweet. That’s what I was thinking anyway.” He turned to Julie. “Hey, why not ditch school today? Let’s go rehearse!”

“What? No, I can’t. I promised my dad that school comes first. Plus, I have the dance with Nick today.” She reasoned and you smirked, thinking back at the way that he was staring at her at the dance.

“Ooh, Nick.” You teased and Julie glared at you. After a brief second, her eyes widened. You turned to see Nick walking towards her and you quickly grabbed Luke’s wrist and dragged him to the side so they could talk. "Speak of the devil."

“Hey, Julie!” Nick smiled warmly. “Ready for our performance?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna do great.” Julie shoved her phone into her bag, clearly trying not to look over at you and Luke who were watching with rapt attention.

“I’m glad you’re confident. I think that after three classes, I just got worse. But good thing I have my secret weapon.” Nick nervously shoved his hands in his pockets and you couldn’t help but smile at Nick’s way of awkwardly flirting.

Next to you, Luke whooped. “Oh, I think someone’s got a little crush on our Julie.”

You cringed a little as you looked over at him, expecting to see jealousy on his face. But if anything, he looked the exact opposite. Amused and eager to tease Julie about it, the same way he did back when Reggie tried to hit on girls after a gig. He caught you looking at him and softly smiled, a dramatic shift from the teasing smirk he had on a second ago.

“Shut up,” Julie said to Luke, cringing when Nick frowned at her. “I mean, shut up.”

“No, seriously, Molina. I’m nothing without you.” He said. You walked behind Nick, peering over his shoulder to make kissy faces at her which made Luke laugh.

"I'm sure you'll be great." She pushed his shoulder, making you jump back a little. “See you in there?"

“Yeah, I’ll be the guy trying not to make us look stupid.” You watched him walk away before turning to Julie.

"Julie, he totally likes you!" You laughed excitedly.

"Boundaries." She reminded you, but there was a smile on her face. You and Luke both raised your hands in surrender and she waved over her shoulder as she walked away. "I'll see you guys after school, okay?"

Once she was gone, Luke shook his head dramatically. "They grow up so fast."

You snorted. "C'mon, dork. Let's go rehearse."

-

After getting back to the studio, you immediately snapped into pre-gig mode.

You collapsed on the floor near the couch, sticking your legs up against the armrest next to Reggie as you all listened to Luke go over the song, he ran his pencil along the paper. "So we add the echoes and then the girls come in with the melody.”

You nodded. “Julie gets home in like an hour and then we can start rehearsing.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thud on the garage door and you spun around just in time to see Willie’s head disappear. You frowned and looked over at Alex for an explanation but he just shook his head.

“Again? What’s that about?” Reggie asked but Alex had already poofed out to chase the other boy. You frowned as you stared at the space where he was just sitting, thinking about how happy he was about Willie not even two days ago.

Just as quickly as he left, Alex came phasing back in with a hurt look on his face. You immediately sat up to question him but he just strolled over to his drums and suggested starting practice.

You all agreed reluctantly and got into place. Luke counted down and started to play, stopping almost immediately as Alex started going off course, slamming on his drums a little harder than necessary.

“Al, you okay?” You asked gently as he set down his drumsticks.

“Yeah, why?”

“I know it’s tough, man. They say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie tried to reassure him. “But I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, and you’re a great drummer and an even greater guy.” You added. “Don’t let all this get in the way of your music.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes a little fire can make things better on stage.” Reggie said, pointing between you and Luke. “Like you guys.”

You were thankful that Luke was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face. You glared at Reggie but he just smirked back at you, and you made a mental note to kick his ass later.

“What’s your point, Reg?” Playing dumb probably wasn’t your best move, but you could you really didn’t want to make things awkward with Luke again.

“I’m just saying when you play your little on-stage game,” Reggie said. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“You should never say ‘ooze’ again, but yeah, I agree.” Alex piped up from behind his drums, giving you a shit-eating grin. Great, now you had two asses to kick.

You looked back at Luke to find him already staring at you as he rubbed the back of his neck. You shared a bashful smile before looking everywhere but each other.

“Yeah, but I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.” Luke reasoned, sounding a little panicked. “Watch.”

He walked over to Reggie and sang directly in his face, making you and Alex struggle not to laugh.

“I see chemistry.” Alex joked.

“That was pretty hot.” Reggie admitted as Luke kissed his fingers and pressed them against Reggie’s lips, making him sputter awkwardly. “Girls, am I right?”

Luke laughed as he walked back over to his spot and tugged his guitar strap over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“No.” Alex said with a smile, making you burst out laughing.

-

Hours later, you stood on your tip-toes, peering out at the crowd that had grown enough to fill the entire driveway.

As they all waited for the show to start, you reached down and felt the outline of your parent’s photo shoved in your pocket. You patted it for good luck, the way you always did before a performance.

Julie stood in front of the garage doors as they were pulled open. There was a wave of applause and Julie settled behind her mic, greeting everyone before starting her solo. Her voice rang out clear over the soft piano, and everyone watched intently, waiting for the rest of you to appear. On top of the balcony, the fake projector clicked on and you took your cue, smiling at the crowd as your voice joined Julie’s.

Just like every time you made your entrance, everyone gasped in surprise and cheered.

You did your best to pose as you sang and danced around, trying to get everyone hyped up. A few people held up their cameras and took pictures, one girl holding her phone so close to your face that you were a little worried that it would go through your head.

Out of the corner of your eye, there was a sudden bright light. For a second, you thought it was just another person taking a picture with their flash, but then you looked over to see Teddy leaning against the wall. He waved a little and you gave him a small smile before going back to the song.

Just as Luke’s verse started, he followed your eyes and saw Teddy, his usual charming smile faltering for a second before locking eyes with you.

Then it was time for your verse with Julie, so you turned away from Luke and strolled towards the piano, watching as Julie crawled on top of it. You followed her lead and sat on the edge, facing the audience and launching into the lyrics.

You could hear Teddy cheering loudly to your right, catching the attention of the whole band, but mostly Luke. As the music softened, Luke suddenly abandoned his spot behind his microphone and was now slowly walking towards you.

He started playing a solo that definitely wasn't planned and almost drowned out the sound of both your and Julie’s voices. When you turned around, you found that he was only a few feet away.

Luke put on his flirty, on-stage face as he slowly inched forward until he was right in front of you. But there was another layer under it. Something sharper and completely unfamiliar. You must’ve seen a hundred different expressions on Luke's face but he had never looked at you like that before.

You tried to look over Julie, who was looking at the two of you with a smirk, but Luke seemed determined to keep your attention. You were extremely grateful that you couldn't blush because you would've been bright red.

The bubble was broken as the chorus started up again and Luke smirked at you one last time before walking back to his microphone. The crowd roared and you took a breath, mentally cursing him and his stupid face for distracting you.

The soft piano came back in and the boys phased away as you and Julie finished the song. You bowed and disappeared, poofing back into the garage.

-

It was just after dark when the last of the crowd went home.

Julie stayed around for a while but she eventually went inside too, leaving the four of you alone in the cold night air.

You sat on the concrete of the driveway, your songbook propped up on your knee as you watched the boys play basketball. You cheered them on and absentmindedly scribbled doodles on the corners of pages of your old songs.

There was a sharp pop in the air and you looked up to see Teddy standing at the end of the driveway, his hands in his pockets as he walked closer.

You had been so caught up in Luke during the performance and then celebrating with the band afterward that by the time you went to look for Teddy, he had disappeared. You quickly got up and brushed off your legs before running to meet him.

“Hey! There you are, you kinda disappeared.” You said and Teddy cleared his throat.

“Yeah, sorry. Uh, can we walk somewhere? We really need to talk.” Teddy said and you cringed when you realized that it suddenly went completely quiet behind you.

You looked back at your friends who were all watching you with different expressions. Reggie looked almost nervous as he fidgeted with the basketball in his hands. Next to him, Alex stared Teddy down with his trademark intense glare and Luke just stood there with his arms crossed as he stared into the street behind you.

“Yeah, okay.” You said quickly, hoping to avoid any more awkwardness. You went to lead Teddy away when suddenly the boys stumbled back, groaning painfully as they were hit with another shock. “Shit!"

Without fully meaning to, you ran to Luke first, quickly inspecting him and watching him carefully as he winced in pain. You glanced over to Reggie and Alex to make sure they were okay before turning back to Luke.

“It’s getting worse.” Luke told you as he rubbed his chest.

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the air. "It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.”

You whipped around to see Willie nervously wringing his hands as he stepped into the light.

Alex took a step closer to him, looking dazed like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Willie?”

“Like I said,” Teddy said suddenly, making everyone look at him. “We need to talk.”

-

Even though you weren’t supposed to be able to get cold anymore, a chill overtook your whole body as you walked down the street.

You could hear everyone talking in front of you but your brain had shut off after Willie explained the basics the first time. Not only was he secretly working for an evil club owner, but Teddy, who you thought was your friend, was teaming up with him in order to steal your soul and make you and your best friends play in a house band for all eternity.

Your brain was so full that you felt like any more information would make you short-circuit.

“So, all these shocks are because of the stamps that Caleb put on us?” Luke asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“He’s threatened by you,” Willie explained as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and whipped around. “You’re the only ghosts that lifers can see without his help.”

Alex, who had been just as quiet as you this whole time suddenly spoke up. “And you let him do this to us?”

“I can’t stop him.” Willie tried to defend himself. “He owns my soul!”

“He owns half of Hollywood’s souls.” Teddy butted in. “It’s kind of his thing.”

Willie took a deep, unsteady breath. “If he even knew we were here talking to you…”

He didn’t finish, but from the pained look on his face, you could tell that he couldn’t have been going anywhere good with that sentence.

Next to you, Reggie crossed his arms. “So if we don’t join his club, this power outage keeps going on until there’s no power left?”

Willie nodded and Reggie scoffed. “And what exactly happens when the power goes out?”

Teddy cleared his throat. “You disappear forever. No crossing over, you just...stop existing.”

“So we have no choice?” Luke snapped as he glared at Teddy. “We have to leave our friend, our band, behind to work for Caleb forever?”

“There is another option.” Teddy said. “If you could figure out your unfinished business, you could cross over in time and be free from all of it.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know.” Teddy gestured to all of you. “But since you all died at the same time, it’s probably something you have to do together.”

“Why should we listen to anything either of you has to say?” Alex said as he glared at both Teddy and Willie. He sounded so betrayed that it made your stomach turn.

“Because I care about you, Alex.” Willie pleaded. “I hate that it’s my fault that you and your friends are in this mess.”

It was quiet for a minute before he looked around anxiously. “I can’t be gone any longer. I’m sorry.”

With that, he disappeared.

“Don’t be too hard on Willie,” Teddy said once he was gone. “He wanted out of the plan the minute Caleb told us everything.”

“And what about you?” You asked, trying to contain your anger and Teddy sighed.

“(Y/n), I know that being your friend started out as a lie,” He pleaded. “But it’s not anymore.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” You scoffed.

“Look, I know you don’t know me, but I know you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know how much Cece cared about you, and I know that this isn’t what she would’ve wanted.”

As if everything wasn’t enough, being reminded of Cece made you feel even worse. Teddy was your last connection to her and now you couldn't even stand to be near him. “I think you should go.”

“(Y/n), please-” Teddy tried to take a step closer to you but Alex fixed him with a look so intense that he backed up almost immediately. With a sigh, he phased away, leaving the four of you out on the street alone.

“This is all my fault.” Alex said, his voice breaking a little. “I met Willie, and he introduced us to Caleb.”

“Alex, no.” You shook your head. “This isn’t anyone’s fault.”

“We have to tell Julie.” Reggie said, washing a new wave of sadness over all of you.

“We can’t.” You said. “She’s lost too much already.”

“If we don’t want Caleb to own our souls, we need to figure out our unfinished business.” Luke started walking further down the street.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Alex asked as you all followed him. “There was so much that we wanted to do.”

Luke suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes trailing up to the buildings. “The night we died, there was one thing we wanted to do together.”

You followed his eyes to see the Orpheum’s sign casting a blue glow on the street. “Play the Orpheum?”

“Getting that gig was impossible,” Alex said. “We had to call in favors and impress who knows how many club owners. It took us years.”

Just as the last word got out, they were hit with another shock. You cringed in sympathy and rested your hand on Alex’s arm.

“We don’t have years.” Luke said through a groan as he clutched his chest.

-

Everyone went their separate ways once you made it back to the garage.

Reggie went up to the house, and Alex barely sat still for five minutes before he left to go on a walk, leaving just you and Luke.

You sat on the rungs of the loft's ladder, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to process everything that's happened. Getting so close to living out your dream only to die and become a ghost, finding out that people could still hear you play, Bobby betraying all of you, meeting Julie and Teddy. It all felt so unreal.

There is no way you’d believe any of it if someone told you all this would happen back when you were alive.

Suddenly, Luke appeared at the base of the ladder, frowning up at you. "Uh-oh. You’re perched up there again.”

“What?” You questioned.

“In your thinking spot.” Luke laughed. “Why do you think we all called you ‘Batman’ in seventh grade?”

"How could I not be thinking right now, Lu?" You said as you carefully slid down to the floor, and Luke backed up slightly to give you space. “I mean, we just found out that we have to play an impossible gig and cross over or you guys will-”

The words died in your throat. You couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about possibly losing any of them. Just thinking about it opened a black hole in your chest.

But there was something else on your mind too. Even though you told Alex that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about trusting Teddy. But for Cece’s sake, you wanted to believe that he was actually your friend.

You wanted to tell Luke everything you were thinking, or at least try to explain why you didn’t take his advice. But of course, Luke already knew what was going on inside your head.

“None of this is your fault, Squeaks.” He reassured. Your lips quirked up slightly at the nickname. You almost couldn’t remember the last time he called you that and hearing it again immediately made you feel warm. "Besides, your unique ability to blindly trust people is one of my favorite things about you."

You snorted and Luke fought a laugh before continuing. “Well, that and your snort.”

“If you’re gonna be mean to me, I’m going back up to my perch.” You jokingly turned towards the ladder but Luke was quick to grab your hand, turning your back around and pulling you closer to him.

You looked up at Luke as his fingers intertwined with yours. You had held hands with Luke countless times, and you hated the fact that it affected you as much as it always did. It was normally just a way of comforting each other. But after the way he acted during the gig, you couldn’t help but wonder if…

“Hey,” Luke said. “We’re gonna figure everything out.”

“How do you know?”

Luke gave you a smile as he pulled you even closer and wrapped his arms around you. “When have I ever been wrong?”

You laughed and Luke squeezed your hand playfully in response. Your head was still spinning with everything that happened tonight, but the guilt had lessened a little as you tucked your head into his shoulder. 

You don't know how long you stayed like that. It felt like hours and seconds all at the same time, but when you finally did pull away, you found yourself frozen in place. Your arms still locked each other, your face now just inches away from his.

“(Y/n), I…” Luke started, his voice uncertain as his eyes drifted down to your lips.

Holy shit.

You blinked up at him, actively trying not to freak out while you waited for whatever his next move was going to be. Were you hallucinating or was Luke about to kiss you?

Just as he went to speak again, there was a bright flash and Alex poofed in just a few feet away. As soon as he saw your and Luke’s position, his jaw dropped and he mumbled nonsense for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

“Hey.” He said, sending you an apologetic look as you and Luke separated so fast that it made you dizzy. “(Y/n), can I talk to you for a second?”

You slowly nodded and smiled awkwardly at Luke before grabbing Alex’s arm and dragging both of you out of the studio. All your thoughts from earlier disappeared and were replaced with one simple question:

What the hell just happened?

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

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JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[blkgojo]

Two Superheroes, One Bed | Carol Danvers x Reader

In which, you and Carol hate each other, but have to share a bed. 

Request: Anonymous

Despite popular misconception being a former terrorist does not make people like you. If anything, it makes them hate you. Despise you. Question you incessently with things such as, "Why did you do this? What is wrong with you? How could you have justified those acts?" And to be honest, your answer was less than satisfying. There was no tragic backstory. No great villain speech. Just you and your hatred for the government.

Living in the Avenger facility did little to change that.

See, the thing about Carol Danvers was that she wasn't an "Earth" hero. Logically speaking, there should've been no reason you disliked eachother as much as you did. You didn't work for the Kree. You had no squabble with saving refugees from colonial rule. On paper, you two were two peas in a pod. Both looking after people who didn't have others to help them, but you hated her the moment you laid eyes on her. Carol Danvers with the huge ass ego. Carol Danvers who somehow was fighting an intergalactic empire, but saw no problem with the way the US military conducted business. She hated you because honestly, who likes a murderer. Redemption arc be damned. You know how it goes.

"I just feel like I've done nothing to deserve this."

"You've killed hundreds of people."

"In total, the Avengers have killed like 2000 so, I don't really see how that's relevant."

Natasha sighs. Steve steps forward and when you cut your eyes at him, he raises his hands in plea.

"Half the universe's population is gone. The US government just needs a win."

You nod slowly. "And sending me across the fucking galaxy with-" You gesture vaguely to the blonde who until that point had decided to be quiet. "- is somehow a win."

"I hate to say this, but I agree," Carol interjects. "I work better alone. Y/N will just hold me back."

"We just need someone to go back to the planet where the infinity stores were destroyed. Make sure there are no remnants."

"It'd be quicker if I did it by myself."

"Y/N is the only one with the ability to replicate organic life," Steve retorts. "If there's a possibility she can locate some particle of infinity stone and replicate that, we need to take that chance."

"It'd be good publicity for her image and it'd bring us one step closer to bringing them back," Natasha continues.

"The world needs you to put aside your differences for the mission."

That was another thing you regretted about joining the Avengers. Steve had no shortage of motivating speeches under his belt. The good thing about villains was that they weren't much for conversation - there was no need to give motivating speeches when the odds were in your favor.

But, people were gone. Wanda, the only one you remotely liked, was gone. Snapped. Looking at Carol now, it looks like she must've lost someone, too. Her unpleasant face looks somehow more restrained than it usually did.

You sigh and fold your arms. "Fine."

All Carol does is nod.

--

It would take two earth days to reach his planet. Two. There'd been complications with the engine and so, it would take not the twenty four hours you expected, you know the time span that was customary for light travel, but it would take two days. Between that and the ship having to lower the heat to maintain proper oxygen levels, it wasn't fun.

"I could fly us there," Carol offers.

"Are you forgetting I can't breathe in space?"

Carol shrugs. "You replicate organic life right? Just replicate yourself a new pair of lungs."

"Fuck you."

She smirks, takes the only other available chair next to you. At first, she seems content to annoy you by tapping her fingers against the dashboard. Then, she grows bored. Worse, she tries to talk to you.

"Isn't all of this stuff automated?"

"Yes."

"So," she begins, stretching out the word. "You don't actually need to be here monitoring it. You can get on the cot." She shrugs. "Take a nap."

"I'd rather keep watch."

You think that'll be it and she'll be done, but she continues. You never would've pegged her as the type to not like silence. But, maybe that's not even it. Maybe, she just wanted to squeeze information out of you. God knows you weren't exactly open with the other Avengers when Fury made you join.

"You ever been to outer space?"

You shake your head. "When you're flagged as a global liability they tend to prefer you on the ground."

"A global liability? Is that what terrorists call themselves?"

"At least, we don't give ourselves cutesy nicknames like Black Widow or Captain Marvel."

She scoffs. "No. You guys just blow up innocent civilians."

"Yeah, I guess accidentally killing them is way better." You smile thinly. "For the greater good and all, you know?"

She stares at you long enough that you don't think she'll actually speak. Finally, she looks away and out to the empty abyss in front of you. "I don't pretend to know what the Avengers did while I was off-world. I see them now and they're good people."

You don't respond and she continues. "You must agree. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Fury said it was either this or experimentation."

"Fury didn't say that."

You laugh bitterly. "He didn't, but he didn't need to. The governments experiment on all mutants - that's how we got Steve and Wanda - they just don't talk about it anymore." You spare her a glance. There's nothing in her expression that would tell you what she's thinking. "So, I chose the Avengers. And here we are."

"You could've escaped."

"Where?" You lean forward in your seat and prop your elbow on the dash. "Please tell me. Where can someone who's wanted internationally hide?"

She squints her eyes. "I'd help, but unfortunately, my knowledge of ideal vacation spots is pretty limited."

Carol's lips seem to be trapped in a permanent smirk - the corner always tilted up in vaguely hidden amusement. Even now. Her snark never stops. You feel your own anger dissipate as quick as it came. There was no point being angry with her. She loved it. Fed off it like a parasite or leech.

"It's almost like you're trying to piss me off."

She places her elbow on the console, leaning forward to shrink the gap between you two.

"Would it make you more angry if I was?"

One time, you and the raccoon had a bet. Whose eyes were more blue: Captain America or Captain Marvel? Like this, you'd have to say Carol. Her eyes had their own halo wrapped around the rim, highlighting the blue and making it fluorescent.

You rub your lips together and lean back in your seat, turning away from her to once again, look at the controls.

The ship breaks down when you reach his planet. You and Carol spend the first ten minutes after landing, arguing back and forth, blaming eachother. The next fifteen, Carol leaves you. Fucks off like a glow stick and searches the planet. When she returns, you haven't moved. Haven't left. You opted instead to lie down in the flowers. It was a beautiful planet. Perfect for retirement. The air was pure, almost light enough to get high in.

"I found his cabin."

"Great." You jump up. The blood rushing to your head and spotting your vision briefly, almost enough to cause you to wobble. "Let's go."

She steps in front of you, quick. You stop just short of bumping into her. Your faces are inches apart. That same infuriating smirk on her lips. Your eyes dart down, down to her chest - she was quite muscular, you could see that even through her clothes-  down enough that she has to clear her throat.

"It's too far by foot." When your eyes meet, she's trying to not look smug.

You arch a brow. "Well, we can't fly."

"I'll have to carry you."

You groan.

"Believe me. I'd be more than willing to do anything else."

"Fine. Do it."

You step back and gesture at her to turn around. She rolls her eyes and in a breathe you didn't know you were holding, throws your arm around her shoulders, wraps her arms around your waist, and jumps. You scream. Through the rush of wind, you think you hear her laughing or perhaps, that's a lie and it's you. Laughing hysterically. No. You are screaming. Hitting her chest. And she's laughing. Fuck Natasha. Fuck Steve. When this is over, you're quitting.

When your feet touch the ground, you bend down and kiss it. Pray to it.

"Anyone ever tell you you're dramatic?" She asks.

"Anyone ever teach you about consent?"  

"You told me to do it."

"I don't care!"

The two of you spend hours looking for remnants of the stones before you finally give it up and return to the ship. You were careful not to drift too close to his cabin. The Avengers never recovered the body. The rot of Thanos was thick, enough to gag over if you got too close. This planet wasn't used to death, not the harsh meat of Thanos. It had been months and he was still there, newly rotting as if it had been a week or two.

"I'll look again tomorrow before we leave." Carol pops a chip in her mouth, her feet kicked on the co-pilot chair while you lounged on the cot. "For now, you should get your rest."

"Don't you need to sleep, too?"

"I have been." She gestures to the chair.

You stare. Frown. The chairs were nowhere near comfortable.

"We can switch. I'll just take the blanket," you offer reluctantly. The nights here were cold anyways. Much colder than space. You involuntarily shiver.

"I prefer to sleep sitting up."

"Is that a military thing?"

To your surprise, she laughs. "Why?"

You shrug the blanket higher - the thin layer providing little comfort. "Cap likes to do that too."

As the sky gets darker, the cold filters in the cracks of the ship and between the layers of your comforter. You snuggle tighter within yourself, curl your knees up to your chest, burrow your hands underneath your pits. When that doesn't work, you shift again. It was always something. The blanket doesn't cover your feet here. You're uncomfortable there.

"You still up?"

You peek up to glance at Carol. She's leaned back in the chair, her head propped back against the headrest. When you shift, she pops one eye open.

"It's cold," you respond. "Are you cold?"

She shakes her head. "Temperature stops being a concern when you get superpowers like mine."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot you're a glow stick."

She snorts. "You talk a lot of shit for someone whose close to being an icicle."

"Bravado under pressure. It's my best quality."

You think she's gonna retort with another snort, but she stays silent. You make a move to stand, but she stops you.

"It's colder over here. See." She breathes out and you can see the cloud of her breathe. You frown.

"I can't sleep like this."

You think she's gonna do something like procure a blanket or throw you her jacket. You even think she might use her powers to heat the ship. It would make sense. Now, that you thought about it - she could've flew your ship to Thanos's exact location. You open your mouth to say as much, maybe, even yell at her as well, but she surprises you by standing.

Her head tilts to the side. Her mouth opening and closing again as if she's mulling over her next words carefully. If it were brighter, you might say this is the closest to nervous you've ever seen her get.

"I could lay down next to you." You blink. "My body generates a certain amount of heat due to -"

"Your powers. Yeah, I get it."

Slowly, you scoot over in the small cot. There wouldn't be enough room. You'd be touching regardless, but if you didn't turn over, it'd be okay. You could pretend instead of Carol, it was some space heater next to you.

"Come," you order.

You feel her weight in the cot, the warmth of her sinking in and spreading across the fabric. It hasn't even been a minute and already the cold has been dissipated. You could sleep if you wanted to. But, you don't. No matter how much you had wanted to pretend she was just some space heater, she was Carol. She felt stiff like a board and she was unbearably loud in her stiffness, her unwillingness to move.

"You can relax you know," you mumble.

"I sleep on my side."

You wonder now if she's smirking.

"No one's stopping you from doing that."

She moves and you know without looking that she's facing you. Her breathe tickles the hair on the back of your neck. You wouldn't be able to sleep like this. She's thinking so loud that whatever thoughts she's having are sure to interrupt your dreams. You turn over towards her - your faces are a hair apart. She's not smirking. Her lips are parted and her eyebrows raised, her expression torn between surprise and delight.

"You're making it difficult to sleep," you say simply.

"Am I?" She retorts. There it is. She's grinning. "That sounds like a personal problem."

You don't take the bait. "You know why you're making it difficult?"

She shifts her head slightly to imply 'no'.

"You're too far away. I'm still cold," you say.

She arches one brow. "This is too far away for you?"

You nod.

She shifts closer. Close enough that there's no room for you to glance at her lips. There's only her eyes staring into yours.

"This good enough?" She whispers.

"No."

"You're proving difficult to please, Y/N." And you can tell she's trying to be smooth, but right now, you just want her to shut up.

You barely have time to open your mouth to say as much before she's kissing you. Pressing her soft lips to yours, her hand finding its way to your hip and resting there. She tugs you closer to her until your bodies are flush against one another. The soft pecks growing longer. Light sparks from her fingertips, burning the trim of your jacket. She fists it as she presses you into her. Her touch still gentle if demanding.

You pull away slowly to breathe. To catch air. You forget why when your lips stop touching.

"Been wanting to do that for awhile," she says with a smile.

"I didn't know I wanted to do it honestly," you respond because it's true. All you knew was that Carol was infuriating. Still is. Only now you want to kiss her, too.

"Really?" Carol asks. "You didn't know you wanted me?"

"You find that hard to believe?"

"I do," she grins. "You know the raccoon and Groot have a running bet on which one of us would crack first. Groot bet on me."

"Groot lost, then." You mean to kiss her, but she pulls back.

"You're the one who invited me into bed with you."

"Because you offered your services."

"Because you complained about being cold."

You groan, snuggle into her chest so you don't feel the need to respond to her. Thankfully, she stops. Her spare hand strokes your back and slowly, you drift into sleep.

[galacticwildfire]

found.

Fifteen.

Pairing: Kenobi!oc x Din Djarin

Summary: Satine and Obi-wan’s daughter fought in the war against the Empire and lost her faith when she lost Mandalore. Until she found him. A lone Mandalorian searching for a Jedi.

Warnings: hella fluff and angst, some smut, no p in v as of yet, but we’ve got some mandalorian kisses and some other *cough* activities, Cobb Vanth shows up, Boba Fett angst, domestic life. Swearing. Mentions of alcohol. Grogu is a cockblocker.

Word Count: 4.1k

~

~

~

After an evening spent mostly apart with me so obviously and painfully keeping my distance I pointed him to one of the spare rooms that was set up from the last time everyone stayed here before coming to my own. 

I'm struggling to sleep, dwelling on my thoughts when there's a shy knock on the door.

Groggy and unbothered to move I use the force to slide the door open and shouldn't be surprised when I see Din standing there considering he's the only other person within miles, but I am.

"Din?" I yawn and sit up, not realising how my short nightgown slides up my thigh until he turns his head away, and I make no effort to fix it until I see the child in his arms.

"Sorry I- the kid wanted you," he stammers at the sight of me. "Did I wake you up?"

"I was having trouble sleeping anyways," I assure him and he slowly walks over, the sight of him walking towards my bed in the low light making me aware of just how much skin I have exposed. Nothing horribly immodest, but under his gaze I may as well be completely bare.

"Would you mind taking the kid?"

"Not at all," I assure him and he passes the kid to me, who smiles the moment he's in my arms. My padawan. "Come on kid, time to sleep."

But the moment Din goes to leave the kid reaches out, and we both jump when the door slides back across and I can't help but let out a nervous laugh.

"That one wasn't me," I say and swallow "Guess he wants you to stay."

"Really kid?" Din sighs and the child looks between us innocently while he shifts awkwardly. "I can take him back to bed with me if you want?"

The kid makes a noise of disapproval and Din tilts his head in annoyance, the tension from earlier still lingering between us.

"It's alright," I assure him. "There's enough room for both of us."

"Are you sure?" Din hesitates with uncertainty in his voice, after earlier when I so suddenly brushed him off I can't blame him.

My voice is weak "It wouldn't be the first time."

And we both think back to that night on Trask, and something tells me it will be far from the last.

Still he's hesitant "Kyra-"

"Come to bed," I coax, knowing how dangerously close we are to crossing that line but with the kid here we should be safe.

I watch as he removes his gauntlets, followed by his shoulder guards, and I can see how truly broad he is beneath them, then his belt with the ammunition joins them on my dresser. He reaches down to remove his heavy boots before slowly sinking down beside me, the only armour he wears being his breastplate and helmet.

The kid looks from Din to I and only then happily lies down right in-between us. Din pulls the blanket over us and it's clear neither of us will be sleeping, unlike the child who dozes off quickly.

"He's difficult," Din sighs but I can fear the fondness in his voice. "He's never been like this, not wanting to be apart from either of us."

A soft smile comes to my face. "I was the same with my parents. They loved each other, but they never married. From a young age I was so used to them being apart, so afraid of one of them leaving for good. I never understood why my father was gone so often, so I'd drag him and my mother into the same room as me, just so I knew neither of them would leave. It made me feel safe."

"You were close with your parents," he observes and while my smile is sad, it's also sweet.

"I was. My mother was Duchess of Mandalore and was always busy ruling but my father, I was his little girl. I loved him more than anyone," I say and my eyes settle on the child. "For a Jedi, attachment is meant to be forbidden but we're still human. My father, he may have been able to control his attachment when it came to my mother, but I was his own flesh and blood. Vader had killed my mother, so when he came for me he had nothing left to lose. He died to save me."

That's when I feel him stiffen beneath that armour which he continues to remove for me, literally and figuratively.

"My parents," he begins and I can feel the pain, still so sharp after so many years. "When the droids came they threw me into a bunker, then moments later the bombs dropped." He has to take a moment to steady his voice. "I never truly understood how a parent would do anything for their child, not until I found him."

In all the time I've known him, I've never heard him truly refer to him as his child. Almost as if he's afraid to, that once he does there's no going back.

"And he is your child Din," I say, reaching over to take his gloved hand. "I know you're afraid to admit it, I know why you're afraid. But I am not going to let anyone take him from you. Which is why you and me are going to do whatever we have to do to keep him safe."

I hear the shaky modulated breath he releases, and he pulls his hand away. For a moment I'm afraid I've overstepped, until he removes his glove. I can hardly breath as he takes my calloused hand in his own, feeling his bare skin against mine.

We lie there facing each other, not another word needing to be spoken. His thumb traces the back of my hand, the mere touch making me ache, making me feel more than anyone else has.

I long to reach out and brush my fingertips along the smooth beskar of his helmet, to have his arms around me. But the mere touch of our hands alone feels dangerous, the thought of anything more would be madness.

But still, I want it. I need it.

And somehow I know he feels the same.

The child sleeping between us being the only thing keeping us from risking it all.

"Sweet dreams Mesh'la," he whispers and I draw a sharp breath, feeling his fingers tighten around my own. Feeling my heart ache so badly that nothing else matters to me except for his touch.

"Sweet dreams Din."

~

Din still rests beside me when I begin to stir, the feeling of his fingers laced with mine being what brings me back to consciousness. Except now my head rests in the crook of his shoulder, our joined hands resting on his chest and his strong, protective arm holding me to him.

From the steadiness of his breath he's still asleep, and I'm selfish enough not to wake him. But to lay there in his arms, curled into his side, able to feel his steady heartbeat.

I don't know how this will end, I don't want to. All I want is to stay here like this, consequences be damned.

"Mesh'la," he murmurs as he begins to wake, his arm tightening around me and my heart aches until a worried breath comes through the modulator. "The kid-"

"He's in the kitchen," I assure him, putting him at ease. I can sense the kid up to no good but gathering he's likely just snuck out to find food I push the worry aside. It's hard to care about anything else while I'm in Din's arms. "Can we- can we stay like this? For just a moment?"

He answers by pulling me closer and I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, my cheek resting against the warmth of his shoulder and my forehead just touching the beskar of his helmet.

I know that I'm falling for him. Or perhaps I already have. And it terrifies me.

And I know it terrifies him as well.

It's not until our joined hands come to brush my cheek that I realise my eyes are pressed shut. "Look at me Mesh'la."

My eyes open as his knuckle runs along my cheekbone and I can hardly breathe as he tilts my chin up so our faces are level. "Din."

His knuckle trails down my cheek and I can see him so clearly, feel him. Feel his eyes take in everything my face reveals, my body's every reaction to his touch.

"Brown," I whisper with a deep knowing I haven't felt in so long, and he stills. "Your eyes are brown."

He tilts his head at me and I can feel the momentary panic that floods through him before disappearing as I sit up, just enough so my hand is free to run along the beskar of his cheek. And then there's peace, bliss beyond any I've ever felt.

Light.

And I smile. I smile for him, and the Child, and the possibility of a future.

He lets go of my hand only to cup my face fully, a heavy breath escaping me at the warmth of his touch, and I finally dare to speak the words resting on the tip of my tongue.

"Din," I whisper, my heart pounding so loud I can barely hear my own voice. "I-"

A loud crash interrupts us and in a split second both of us are running out of the bedroom, weapons in hand only to find the Child sitting beside the food cabinet, cans from one of the higher shelves now lying around, and he still looks at us in unashamed innocence.

We both let out nervous, relieved laughter, and I place my saber on the table as I pick up the child, my heart still pounding from far more than adrenaline.

"Someone's hungry," Din teases to lighten the mood and I look at the food stores which severely lack anything remotely fresh.

"We should find a marketplace, stock up," I decide, knowing I may just go mad or make a very unwise decision if the two of us stay cooped up here any longer.

"We could visit Mos Pelgo," Din suggests. "See if Cobb Vanth has any jobs to pay."

"Din, I'm the daughter of a duchess, I can afford to pay for food," I assure him, but I know it's a deep instinct within him, within all Mandalorian men, to take on the role of the provider, to care for the child. And I know for Din it's his way of showing affection, through acts of service.

For a moment I expect him to become defensive as some men can become, but instead he just rubs the child on the back and rests a hand on my shoulder. "It's alright, it will give you some peace to keep going over those files."

And it's the sheer intimacy between us that makes my voice light. "I won't get much peace if you're out there alone."

He tilts his helmet down towards me and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. "Trust me."

The corner of my lip tilts up as I rest my hand on his chest. "You know I do."

His helmet tilts down slightly and I can feel his eyes skimming over my body, much of it exposed by my nightgown and he takes the kid from me. "I'll put my armour on and wash him while you get ready, we'll head off while it's still early."

And as he takes the kid to the bath I find myself realising how much I could get used to this, Din and I raising the child, how much I want it.

That is if the simple touch of him doesn't drive me to madness first.

~

When I reappear wearing a thin Tatooine-style dress that hugs my figure, one that I may have chosen for that specific purpose, Din is sitting there with the Child, checking his robe for any little holes, specifically on his feet.

"I might be able to fashion one of my old Jedi robes into some for him," I tell Din as he looks up at me and I ask the Child. "Would you like that?"

He makes an unintelligible sound and so Din nods, speaking formally as if we were not in the position we just were in the bedroom. "That would be great, thank you."

The Child looks between Din and I, and makes a sound that somewhat resembles an attempt at a thank you, it makes me chuckle.

"Despite your mischief, your father has raised you to have good manners," I smile, picking the child up and cradling him to my chest, hugging him tight. "I might get you a treat or two from Mos Pelgo."

He makes a sound of excitement and I can't help but grin at the child in my arms, who's taken my heart just as much as his father has. My eyes meet Din's through the visor, his brown eyes, and I know his smile matches mine as much as my heart is still beating through my chest.

Just the feeling of his eyes on me maddens me, and I know then and there I am truly in trouble.

~

We arrive at Mos Pelgo with no more incidents and it looks far happier than it did when we first arrived here, now absent of the Krayt Dragon. The day Din and I met.

And everything changed.

"The first of our adventures together," I comment, hardly able to comprehend that not so long ago he was a stranger to me.

"First of many," he replies, the thought behind those words not being missed. Of a shared future.

"Hopefully," I agree with a small smile as we stroll through the town which is now beginning to thrive. "And I've been thinking."

"Mmm?"

"What if after we go to Chandrila we come back here to Tatooine." He stops in surprise and looks at me, and so I elaborate. "What if the three of us stayed put for a while? Somewhere he'll be safe while we figure the rest out."

Figure out what to do about the Empire, Moff Gideon, Mandalore, the Republic, Ahsoka, the kids training. Us.

He gives me a nod and I don't expect the emotion that comes with it. "I'd like that."

"So would I."

I reach forward and let the Child who Din holds wrap his little hand around my finger. "Would you like that?"

He makes an excited sound of agreement and the future has never seemed so bright and yet part of me is terrified at what that future may contain, an attachment I swore to myself I would never again have.

And yet it is unlike anything I've ever had before.

We go to keep walking through the town when we hear a whistle from behind us, then a distinct voice.

"Well I'll be damned." 

We both look to see Cobb Vanth wearing an amused grin. "I gotta say I shouldn't be so surprised to see you two together, but well... Mando here would be a fool to let a woman like you go."

Din and I at this point are past arguing with assumptions and I just let out a light laugh, but I swear I can feel a sharp pang come from Din, almost like jealousy. Yet I don't expect him to actually open his mouth.

"Well, you aren't wrong there."

I have to look away to hide the sudden colour that comes to my cheeks and clear my throat, something Din no doubt notices. But after this morning we both know that at this point we're just lying to ourselves if we pretend there isn't anything between us.

Hell we were five minutes at best off him ending up between my legs.

"We've found ourselves back on Tatooine for a little while and thought we'd come by to stock up on supplies," I tell him. "The town's looking good, you haven't had any trouble since we left?"

That's when his face falls and a chill settles over me, the same whisper in the breeze I felt not so long ago. "We should go inside."

Din must notice how my body freezes as he puts a hand on my lower back to guide me to the cantina. It's empty when we step inside and without being asked Cobb pours me a drink.

"You might want to sit down General," Cobb advises but I shake my head firmly, instead finding my strength and stay in Din. "You know that armour you and Mando here took?"

That's when my stomach sinks and the dread that fills it is all-consuming while Din asks "What about it?"

Cobb's attention hesitantly turns to me. "Well, turns out I was wrong."

"The man who wore that armour," I elaborated. "He was the reason I was there, he betrayed me and so I struck him down and the sarlacc did the rest."

"And you came to make sure it wasn't him in this hardwear," Cobb finished. "I haven't seen a sarlacc up close but I know a bit about them. If he ended up in the stomach of one of those things he's dead. No ifs or buts. He's dead."

"No." I quake, already knowing the truth. "Don't say it."

"The man that armour belonged to," he begins and Din's hold on me tightens as I shake my head desperately, as if it could somehow block out the words. "Turns out he survived the sarlacc."

"No," I whisper, tears of pure horror welling in my eyes as Din wordlessly pulls me into his side. "No, you're wrong."

"Mesh'la," Din says in a low voice to try and calm me but I fight against it.

"He is dead!"

Cobb shakes his head at me sadly. "I'm afraid he's not General. He made it very clear to me he wants his armour back and that he's going to come looking for it."

That's when a wave of pure devastation crashes over me, and my voice is little more than a whisper. "You saw him? When?"

Din hold's me by the waist as Cobb tells us the story. "Not long after you and Mando left a man approached me, spoke with an accent I haven't heard before, could have been anywhere in his forties or fifties but I couldn't tell, not with the burns. Scared completely, his face was the worst- I haven't been able to forget it." I come to hold onto Din's arm, feeling sick to my very stomach. "I asked him what he was doing in these parts, he said he'd been on Tatooine for around half a decade, watching from a distance, but now he wanted his armour back. He wanted to know who took it, who was with the Mandalorian who took it."

"And did you tell him?" Din asks protectively while I can't find the words to speak.

Cobb rubs his throat and I realise whatever information he gave up it wasn't without a fight. "It wouldn't have mattered what I told him, he already knew."

My body shuts down and that's when cold tears stain my cheeks.

I stood there lightsaber in hand as chaos raged around us.

"Go on," Boba taunted. "Strike me down, but you know the moment you do you'll never be able to forgive yourself. You won't be able to live with the guilt."

Tears stained my cheeks then, just as they do now. "You betrayed me."

"That didn't matter to you last night did it?" he replied and I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. "Come on princess, you and me, roaming the galaxy like we always talked about. Fuck the war, fuck the Rebels, Fuck the Empire. It can be just you and me."

He held his hand out to me and for just I moment I reached out to take it, until I felt Leia, still in there with Jabba, until I saw Luke and Han, still fighting below. Until I chose to put my family first, even if it meant tearing out my own heart.

"Close your eyes," I whispered as he did to me and he didn't fight me. He knew that for a Jedi to strike down an unarmed man, it would taint me. 

He knew even then in his last act he was only making me suffer.

And so I went to strike him down at the last moment I faltered in my decision to kill him, my blade missing his neck and instead burning through his painted beskar chestplate, but it was enough to throw him off balance and a scream escaped me as he fell back and without thinking I ran forward to catch him, only for Lando to grab me at the last moment, pulling me back from the edge of the Sarlacc pit.

And he was gone.

Those same horrified tears are the ones that now spill over my cheeks and I hear Cobb telling Din "I don't know where he went or who he is, but I strongly suggest you get the hell off Tatooine and to a system he won't be able to track you down."

"Come on," Din said, guiding me back to his ship and the sheer horror is so great I'm unaware of everything except for his arm around me.

And again I feel it, the whisper in the breeze.

A whisper that belongs to Boba Fett.

~

I can't bring myself to form a single word between leaving Mos Pelgo and Din taking me back inside my home and sitting me down. He disappears to put the Child to bed and my hand wraps around my throat, so tight I can hardly breathe, as the memories haunt me.

And I want to scream, but there's only silence.

It feels like an eternity before I feel a bare hand on my own, removing it from my throat and clutching it tight in his own. His voice gentle. "Look at me Mesh'la."

And I do, then the next thing I know I'm in his arms, clutching him as if I let go then I'll be lost.

"You're safe," he tells me, cradling me to his chest. "You and the Child, I'll make sure we're safe."

It's at the mention of the Child I finally force words from my throat. "No, this is my fault, my responsibility."

"How could this be your fault?" he asks cupping my cheek and wiping the tears from it, it's then he realises. "You knew."

Guilt forces me to pull away from him. "For years I tried to deny it until my friends sat me down like a fucking intervention to tell me one of their contacts had seen him, which is what brought me back to Tatooine. When we found Cobb Vanth I tried to put it to rest but I- I couldn't." It's then I turn into a stuttering mess. "At sunset when we- we had a moment and I turned away it wasn't because of you, it was like a whisper in the breeze. I could feel him, I thought it was paranoia, but-"

"It was him," he finishes and sighs heavily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought it was all in my head!" I yell and break down completely, a shaking wreck. "The war broke me Din, the torture, the mind games Vader played on me it- I haven't been the same since. What I did has haunted me for years, I thought it was my own paranoia, prayed it was and I-" He pulls me back into his arms and I'm crying against his shoulder, vulnerable like I've never been before. "Something's broken in me Din and I'm terrified it'll never stop, I'm terrified that I'll never stop reliving it, terrified that he could have done something to you or the Child-"

That thought horrifies me more than any other. "Mesh'la-"

"I'd never be able to forgive myself do you hear me?" I cry feeling his hands cupping my face and through the tears I look up at him. "If anything ever happened to you or the Child I would never forgive myself."

He doesn't answer me, he just brings my forehead to his, and no words could say more than that one touch. A Mandalorian Kiss.

"You and the Child are all that matters to me," he swears like a holy vow. "The only things in this galaxy. No matter what mistakes you've made, no matter what your past brings, no matter what you feel, that will never change."

And I know then, through the grief and the tears, that I love him.

That I love this stranger who has seen my heart, seen every broken bit, every scar it bears, and is still unafraid of it.

My tears finally still and all I can feel is him.

"Din," I breathe. "You and I-"

He hushes me softly. "We can talk about that later mesh'la, first I'm going to transfer the fuel from my ship to yours so we can travel to Chandrila. We'll leave in the morning."

I nod and he holds his forehead against mine for a moment longer before wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. "But first breathe, and we'll figure this out."

"Thank you Din," I whisper, in this moment wanting to love him without fear, without hesitation, without restraint. Wanting to love the brown eyed man beneath the beskar that's given me something I thought I'd lost forever. Hope. "For everything."

He hesitates before letting me go, his thumb lingering on my cheek, before he goes to ready my ship for Chandrila.

[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

[passable-talent]

part 2 for the sith reader plleeeaasee????? im loving it

part one here

I’m aware of the memability of the youngling massacre and i know i promised to not make reader/anakin redeemable but,,, im gonna do it anyway. strategically it doesnt make sense to murder the next generation and also reader is constantly trying to make anakin believe they’re doing the right thing. reader doesn’t have the luxury of saying ‘do it or padme dies’. they’ve got to be smarter than palpatine was. 

Good news: you’re a Sith Lord. Palpatine is gone. Anakin’s on your side. Also, he loves you, that’s good. 

Bad news: you now have so much more on your plate. You’ve got to activate the clones to kill the Jedi, give a speech before the Senate, accompany Anakin to Mustafar to get rid of the Separatists, there was just so much to do, and in so little time. 

So, no matter how you wished to stay in his embrace forever, you pulled from Anakin’s arms, brushing back his hair sweetly. 

“Love, we need to start moving against the Jedi,” you said softly, righting his very disheveled robes. “You have to go to the temple. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“I can’t kill any Jedi,” he said, breaking your gaze. In response you hugged him tightly, comfortingly. You’d known he would worry about that.

“I know, I know, I’m not asking you to.” His loyalty to you was strong, but you knew it was not yet unbreakable. “The Younglings- they can be saved. I’ll take care of the Jedi, but you need to make sure they’re safe.” He nodded, fixing the last few details of his tousled robes, and kissed you one last time before he left the room.

Which left you alone, with your thoughts, and some very knotted hair. 

It took a moment to clean yourself up as well, but soon enough you could take a seat at Palpatine’s desk, calling up the communications you’d seen under his fingers a thousand times. The Clones’ slave chips would take over their will the moment you gave the order, and you bit your lip for a moment, wishing you could be there in person to see it all. But you had something much more important to do with your time. 

You pulled your hood over your head and opened your communications to all of the Clone Squadron Leaders. 

“Execute Order Sixty Six,” you said, and the words burned on your tongue. 

You didn’t really have time to waste, you see. You had to meet Anakin at the temple, ‘find’ the evidence you’d plant, rush back to the Senate, then make it to Mustafar. You had a very full schedule for the afternoon, and yet- you couldn’t help it. 

You leaned back in the chair, closed your eyes, and opened yourself to the Force. You reached out across the galaxy, feeling into the light, and the dark. Through it, you felt a thousand Jedi dying. And nothing, well, almost nothing, had ever felt so good. 

The Jedi Killer, you’d been, in the Clone Wars. And though the generation of them did not die by your saber, it was your order, your decision, your words, that had brought them down. You weren’t just a killer. You were a crusader. 

Once you’d gotten your breath back, you pulled up a different communication, one wired to a meeting hall on Mustafar, full of people you despised. Nute Gunray, Shu Mai, truly awful people. People who had come to power, and did nothing with it but collect wealth. Disgusting, truly- when one comes to power, they’re meant to wield it, just as you were. But these people only cared about their trade, their capitalism. Pitiful.

“Viceroy,” you said with a dark smile, eyes hidden beneath your cloak. 

“Lord Errar,” Nute acknowledged you with a bit of surprise in his voice, “Where is Lord Sidious?” 

“He has just a bit to take care of in the Senate,” you said with a wicked smile. Nothing made your soul spark like a well-crafted lie. “Once that’s taken care of, I will pay you a visit, to give you your reward for your help. When the night is over, my friends, you’ll be left in peace.” Giving them no time to ask questions, you closed the communication, delivering your last word to an empty office. 

“Pieces.” 

The last thing you needed to do before you left was nice and easy- the press of a button. Hidden away in the far corner of the Chancellor’s desk was a button meant only for emergencies, which is certainly why you used it now, of course. The death of the chancellor was an emergency, wasn’t it?

You called a senate meeting. 

Once that was done, you knew you had only an hour before the senators would be expecting you, so you found your saber and hurried to your speeder. It didn’t take long to get to the Temple, where you had sent Anakin. He had rescued the younglings from their training, in the midst of the battlegrounds that the Temple had become, and gotten them away to their chambers, in the care of droids. He met you in the center of the temple, Jedi and Clones alike scattered around the floor. So caught up in his mission, he hadn’t noticed how long you’d been at the temple, working your way through the files. 

“I told them that I’d come back when it was safe,” he said, “The droids will take care of them.” 

“Good,” you breathed, giving him a quick kiss under the ear. You took his hand, and slowly tugged him toward the communications center of the temple. “I have to show you something.” You pulled up the files you’d been painstakingly preparing for months, crafting them, ensuring they looked as though they were written by Jedi fingers.

On them were plans from the other side of the Clone Wars, supporting the Separatists. They held details about the destruction of the Senate, the assassination of the Chancellor, without even knowing he was a Sith. And of course, your magnum opus, the most perfect thing you could’ve included- the passage that described how the Jedi would allow the Dark Side of the Force, the Sith, to rise in power so that the Jedi could shift the blame for the war to the Sith. This, you knew, would hurt Anakin most of all- that the Jedi had completely ignored their duty to fight the Dark. 

“I just don’t understand,” you said softly, shaking your head, darkness pulsing deep in your chest with a beautiful, well-crafted lie. “I thought- I thought that Sidious was behind the war. But even he was being manipulated by the Jedi, he was going to be gotten rid of so that the Jedi could control the Senate.” Anakin couldn’t look away from the holograms. 

“Anakin, I’m so sorry,” you breathed, lacing your arms around the closest of his, hoping to give him even the slightest comfort, as he accepted that the people who’d raised and trained him were so evil. Apparently.

“There’s some good news, though,” you said, motioning to one of the holograms, “We now know where the Separatist leaders are. You and I- we can go...” you paused, seeming to stumble to find the proper word. “...Remove them.” Finally breaking his eyes away from the holo, he nodded, pulling you just a bit closer. 

You kissed his cheek, giving him a moment to grieve.

“I should inform the Senate,” you said, “They’ve never met me, but I was the Chancellor’s apprentice. They’ll respect me.” His flesh hand came to your face, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes for the briefest of moments to drown in his affection. 

“Be careful,” he told you, and you nodded.

“Can you-” you said, shaking your head briefly, trying to be gentle with him. “Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here by yourself.” He nodded, and together you walked to your speeder, taking it to the Senate hall. 

And this- this was to be your masterpiece. 

“Senators-” you began, aligning your shoulders in a way that had you looking powerful enough to command their attention, but nervous enough they wouldn’t suspect you for foul play. “I’m afraid I have some very disturbing news for you.” 

"I was an apprentice to the late Chancellor Palpatine, a gifted and respected leader who guided our republic through the first war in generations. I’m saddened to inform you, though, that this war was not what you’ve been told.” Whispers rippled through the senate’s hall.

“The Jedi, to whom this Senate entrusted the peace of the galaxy, had given power to the Separatists, in order to stir up the war. Earlier this very day, four Jedi masters ambushed myself and the Chancellor in his office...” you trailed away, bringing up emotion to stir their sympathy.

“I only escaped thanks to one young Jedi who still represents what the Jedi Order was meant to. The Chancellor was not so lucky.” You felt it as grief rolled through the room, and fought away a smile. They believed your every word- of course they did.

“On the battlefields, the horror of the Jedi and their plans were realized, and many of them were executed for crimes against the republic, following the Chancellor’s dying wishes. His other...” You shook your head, as though disbelieving what you were about to propose. 

“His other wish on his deathbed was that I carry on his work. That I guide the Republic into a future of peace.” The energy in the room shifted, but not toward the negative. No, they trusted you. They were considering giving your former mentor’s power to you. They just needed a little more. 

“I know you’ve never seen me before, you have no reason to trust me. I implore you, honorable senate, to believe me. I will see it that this Republic is capable of recognizing traitors, as the Jedi had become. I will see to it that the remaining traitorous Jedi are hunted down and executed. I promise to lead this Senate into the future!” 

The cheer went up. 

“I vote to reorganize the Republic, into something stronger, more powerful, more capable of destroying threats to the peace!” 

The energy was beautiful, lifting you to levels of bliss you had never felt before. You were to be the most powerful Sith there had ever been, controlling the Senate, the Republic, the Sith, the Jedi. 

The Republic. Such a name didn’t have quite the ring you wanted. You were to be, what, Chancellor? No, no, that wouldn’t do. 

“Together, we will create the first Galactic Empire- a beacon of hope for the galaxy, the strongest protector of the peace that the galaxy has ever seen!” 

Emperor. Now that was a title you were proud to carry. 

“We have to hurry,” you told Anakin as you strode from the meeting hall, “The Separatists might hear word that we know their location. We’ve got to get to them before they move.” 

They hadn’t- they waited, like the proper pawns they were, for the reward you had promised them. Such a reward came in one of two forms:

Anakin’s saber, or yours. 

You had planned out everything that would happen this day, everywhere you would go, every bit of it. You knew every step, and were never caught off guard. 

Until you discovered Obi-Wan Kenobi waiting outside of your ship.

You had to make a decision fast- how you were going to play this. Obi-Wan was a talented Jedi, and possibly the one person who you’d be incapable of manipulating, thanks to that strong Jedi code. He was also the only person who Anakin might be loyal to, over you. 

So, you let Anakin have his reunion, as though you hadn’t even noticed Obi-Wan. 

You stayed close, but you hadn’t thought to make Anakin realize he’d have to stand opposed to Obi-Wan, so you had to wait for the proper moment to interject yourself. 

“Anakin, are you alright? There’s been so much happening- I was so worried.” You knew Obi-Wan had noticed you, but for all of Obi-Wan’s faults, at least he knew that you were no threat to Anakin. 

“I’m fine,” Anakin told him, and you recognized what he was feeling- he was pushing away his emotions, as the Jedi Order had always told him to. 

“Master Yoda has lost contact with Master Windu- we don’t know what happened. Do you?” 

And there it was. The moment you’d been waiting for.

“Stop,” you groaned, crossing your arms. “You know exactly what Windu was doing. You know exactly where he was today.” You stepped forward, putting yourself almost between Obi-Wan and Anakin. 

“No,” Obi-Wan said, astonished by your presence. He’d known you were there, but something about you now almost reminded him that you were barely an adult, just like Anakin. “No, sith apprentice, I don’t know what happened.” 

“That’s a lie!” you shouted, not yet bringing up your saber. You put your arm in front of Anakin, as though protecting him from Obi-Wan. “You’re done lying to him!”

“Excuse me?”

“Mace Windu along with three other Jedi masters were sent to murder the Chancellor of the Republic so that the Jedi could assume control! Anakin and I found the plans in the Jedi temple ourselves!” Obi-Wan’s expression fell, and he didn’t look away from you.

“What are you talking about?” 

You shared a glance with Anakin, and suddenly, you had an idea. 

“They didn’t even tell you?” You whispered, turning your gaze to the floor as though you were considering. You were, though, honestly- there was no reason why this needed to end with Obi-Wan dead, not if you could reel him in just as cleanly as you did Anakin. And if you failed, then to Anakin it would feel incredibly genuine that Obi-Wan would need to die, ensuring his loyalty either way.

You brought your gaze to Anakin’s, and offered him the slightest pitiful smile.

“Maybe he can be trusted,” you said, offering him the hope that his master was redeemable. Lifting your chin as though gathering your wits, you turned to Obi-Wan, something under your ribcage sparking again with the love of a good plan seeing itself through. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Master, but the Jedi had been plotting the death of Chancellor Palpatine, and once he was gone, they were going to assume control of the Senate. Your masters have been behind this war, all along. It’s all very-” You shook your head. “Despicable.” 

“It can’t be true,” Obi-Wan said, his voice stealing air from his lungs, his chest seeming to deflate, and this couldn’t have possibly worked out better. 

“We found the plans, in the Temple,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan looked at his former Padawan. 

“I assure you, Master,” you said, lowering your head, “I just want the galaxy in peace. I know you aren’t inclined to believe me, I understand...” It occurred to you that if he knew the whole of the story, he might be swayed toward you.

“Anakin and I are a Dyad,” you told him, and Anakin’s entire presence in the Force pulsed with surprise. “I always thought that it meant we were destined to be enemies, but I guess the future is harder to predict than that.” Obi-Wan studied you briefly, looking over your face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty. He underestimated you- you breathed dishonesty, it was in your bloodstream. Why would he be able to see it on you?

“You are a sith, are you not?” Obi-Wan asked, presumably weighing whether or not he could trust you. 

“I was abandoned by my master, because of how I felt for Anakin,” you told him, and none of it was a flat lie. That was your specialty- you were surprisingly honest, if one listened with a close enough ear. You reached out to take Anakin’s hand, an unabashed show of affection that felt quite teenaged. “I just want him to be safe.”

“If I can trust you, (Y/N), which I’m not sure I can,” Obi-Wan said, “I’ll help restore the galaxy in every way I can.” 

-🦌 Roe

part 3

[onecanonlife]

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (next part)

(word count: 3,098)

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

Part Two: Sapnap

Sapnap has never thought of himself as an outwardly sentimental person, but nights like tonight make him consider changing his mind on that front.

Things have been weird, lately. Weird in a different kind of way from the usual weirdness. Personally, he blames Wilbur Soot and his dumb drug van that has somehow evolved into a dumb country and a dumb revolution, because apparently he thinks it’s fine to be invited onto someone else’s server and promptly declare independence. But whatever, it’s fine, and so what if it’s getting a little more intense than the games they usually play? So what if Dream’s starting to get strangely obsessive about the whole thing? Sapnap thinks he might too, in his position, and there’s no need to get too worried about it anyway. There’s no way this war—if it can be called a war at all—will last much longer.

But it’s been weird.

Nights like this, though, remind him that it’ll all be okay in the end. Because tonight started out as a war meeting, all of them hunched around a table in Dream’s base, talking over plans and hypothetical ways to kick the L’Manbergians straight into next week the next time they fight. But over time, conversation shifted to other things, lighter things, and Dream flicked water at George’s face for some reason, and George retaliated by throwing small objects at Dream’s mask, and somehow that’s resulted in them all piling onto each other in front of the TV, watching really terrible horror movies. Dream tosses popcorn at the screen whenever someone makes a horrendous decision, and they’re all cracking stupid jokes and making silly commentary, and Sapnap feels warm and tired and safe. It feels like old times, when it was just the three of them on this server, or maybe even like just a few months ago, before Wilbur got it into his head to create a drug empire and they were all still friends, and the stealing and the griefing was all in good fun and the disc thing was a joke and not something that Dream is still weirdly preoccupied with.

It’s a nice reminder. Things were good before, and they’ll be good again. Everything will go back to normal soon, and right now, with Dream draped across his lap and George half sprawled over both of them, he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

And then, Tommy stumbles into the room.

He blinks a few times, because what? But no, Tommy’s still there, even though this is about the last thing he expected to happen. Scratch that, it’s like, the negative third thing he expected to happen tonight, because what is Tommy doing here?

There is a split second in which his instinct is to go for a weapon. But even disregarding how fucked up that is, because this is still Tommy, still the kid he joked around with and hung out with in the early days, and he doesn’t want him hurt or dead no matter how annoying he’s been lately—even disregarding all of that, the urge fades quickly.

Because Tommy looks like shit.

He’s unarmed and unarmored, nothing on his back but his usual t-shirt, and that appears rumpled, like he slept in it and didn’t bother to change before coming here. His hair is mussed, even more than normal, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Sapnap would chalk it up to sleep deprivation if there weren’t obvious tear tracks drying on his cheeks.

Which, holy shit. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Tommy cry before. So what the hell could have happened that he would show up in Dream’s base of all places, alone and looking like this?

“Uh,” he says, very eloquently. “We’re having a war meeting? What are you doing?”

Tommy’s gaze drifts from them to the TV and back to them again.

“Oh, good,” Tommy says, and he sounds… off. Like he’s trying too hard to sound casual. Sapnap’s not quite sure how he knows that, except that there’s an odd strain in his voice, and the words don’t seem to come easily, like he has to search for them, and that’s wrong. Tommy delivers insults as easily as breathing, even when they’re not particularly clever ones. “Here I was worried you were having a sleepover. Like middle school girls.”

“We can have a sleepover if we want,” George mutters, sounding slightly offended and also like he’s too tired for this. Which, honestly, Sapnap completely agrees with.

“If this is supposed to be a sneak attack or something, it’s a really bad one,” Dream says, and finally puts in the effort of rolling to his feet in one smooth motion and taking a few steps in Tommy’s direction. “Why are you here, Tommy, and how soon can you leave? Or do we need to make you?”

It’s definitely too late at night to sound threatening. Even Dream can’t manage it very well, too much sleep creeping into his voice.

Except it seems to work. Tommy flinches, and takes a step back. Alarm bells start clamoring in Sapnap’s head, because the one thing Tommy has never been is scared of Dream.

Dream catches it too. His head tilts, and he stops his advance. Sapnap exchanges glances with George, and they both get to their feet as well, the earlier warmth and comfort almost forgotten. The movie continues to play in the background, disregarded.

“I’m not here for a fight,” Tommy says, and Sapnap can’t stop his snort.

“You’re always here for a fight,” he says, and Tommy—

Tommy looks at him. Just looks at him, and it’s only for a second, but he could swear that there is something dark in Tommy’s eyes, something dangerous, something that Sapnap has seen before but never in the face of someone so young, something that speaks of loss and bloodshed and an unshakable determination to do whatever it takes. To accomplish what, he doesn’t know, and he can’t find out, because Tommy blinks, looks away, and the moment is gone.

“Not tonight,” Tommy says, and turns his gaze on Dream. And keeps it there. “I want to propose a deal.”

“You want to propose a deal,” Dream repeats. “You want—you came here at three in the morning to try to make a deal with us? I—okay, why? What do you want, and why do you think we’ll give it to you?” Dream’s voice is increasing in both volume and snappiness, and Sapnap can’t blame him; deals, when coming from Tommy, inevitably end in some sort of scam, in his experience, and if Tommy’s really trekked all the way over to their base to try to pull one over them, he’s got another thing coming to him.

But at the same time, Tommy has actually trekked all the way over to their base, looking like he’s halfway to death via exhaustion. His voice is flat, and he’s watching Dream like he’s some sort of predator, like he’s going to attack at the slightest provocation. Which might just be the case, but the point is that Tommy has never seemed this aware of it. Never been careful, never given Dream the respect and caution that his skills deserve, despite Dream besting him in combat time and time again. So somehow, Sapnap doesn’t think that a simple scam is the end goal here.

“You’re going to give it to me because I know you, Dream,” Tommy says, lifting his chin defiantly, and there, there is some of his usual spark, his usual confidence. Odd, though, that it seems to be just that: confidence, not false bravado, not a child playing in shoes several sizes too big, not Tommy trailing after Wilbur like a puppy trying to learn to be a wolf. Just surety. “I know what you want.”

“Oh?” Dream crosses his arms. “And what do I want?”

“The discs,” Tommy says, and Sapnap feels his jaw hit the floor. “And I’ll give them to you. No scams.”

Dream has gone still. Shocked, Sapnap thinks. “You’ll give me the discs?” he says. “Just like that, you’ll give them to me?” He’s disbelieving—but he’s interested. That much is plain as day. And Sapnap still doesn’t understand why Dream cares about those things so much, because sure, Tommy was being really annoying about them, but at the end of the day, discs are all they are. Music discs like any other music discs.

“I mean, no, not—not just like that,” Tommy says. “This is a deal, man, I want something from you. But that’s what I’m offering. The discs. Both of them.”

Sapnap scans his face, his posture, searching for any sign of a lie. There is none. Tommy’s lips are drawn in a thin line, his expression more serious than any Sapnap has ever seen from him.

“Okay, what is it?” he asks.

“L’Manberg’s independence,” Tommy says. “Independence for the discs.”

And that’s—that’s laughable. This revolution of theirs has barely been going on for a month, and it’s already painfully obvious that they’re going to lose, and badly, that they don’t have the resources or the manpower to defeat Dream. They’re going to crush them; they’re not about to let them form their own country right in the middle of the Greater SMP just because of a couple of music discs. That would be stupid.

Except Dream’s still interested.

“You’d be willing to give up the discs?” he asks, an odd note in his voice, and—he’s considering it. He’s actually considering it.

“Oh, come on, Dream,” George says, apparently thinking along the exact same lines. “You can’t just—”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and shifts his weight between his feet. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off Dream. His whole body is tense as a bowstring. “I mean, you know. Sometimes you’ve got to think about what’s important.”

“Did Wilbur ask you to do this?” Dream says.

Tommy stays silent. For a moment, Sapnap takes that as a yes, as agreement, and a burst of anger flares, surprising him. But the core of it is this: sure, Tommy’s irritating, but the discs are important to him. That much has been made extremely clear. So for Wilbur to force the kid to give them up for the sake of his grand country would be messed up.

But Dream laughs, soft and low. “He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?” he says, and Sapnap starts, looking back to Tommy for his reaction.

Tommy winces.

Did the child really waltz into enemy territory without telling anyone where he was going? That’s stupid, even for him.

“What Wilbur doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Tommy snaps, and then scowls. “Well, usually. I take that back, actually. But I’m not here because he told me to. I’m here because this—this is the best choice. It’s the best outcome. So how about you just take the fucking things, and then you go away and leave us alone forever, eh? How about that?”

Dream hums. “And how do you know I won’t take the discs and then raze your little country to the ground anyway?” he asks. “What would stop me?”

Tommy levels a flat stare, and for a second, it’s like there’s someone else peering out of his face.

“I’d fucking stop you, you bitch,” he says. “I’m not—I’ve got news for you, buddy. You think you’re some kind of god. Well, you’re not. You’re just some guy, just like the rest of us, and so what if you’re all strong and shit? There’s always someone stronger.” He pauses for a moment. “There are worse monsters out there than you, Dream. More powerful things. And if you start trying to play your games with me, I’ll take you the fuck out. Don’t even try me. I don’t—I don’t have time for this.” His voice cracks suddenly, and Sapnap looks on in horrified fascination, trying to make sense of anything he’s saying. “Look, you still want the discs, yeah? You can have them. Just give L’Manberg its independence. I won’t try anything. They’re yours to keep, forever. I won’t fight you. So c’mon, you green bastard, do we have a deal?”

Throughout this speech, Dream has gone very, very still.

“More powerful things than me?” he asks. “Tommy, this is literally my server. I think you’re underestimating me here.”

“No,” Tommy says. “No, I’m really not.”

Dream stays silent for a moment. Sapnap would bet anything that underneath his mask, he’s frowning.

“Alright,” he finally says. “Show me that you have them here, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Sapnap would protest. He feels like he should. A couple of discs aren’t worth allowing a whole new country to form in their server. But Dream’s tone brooks no argument, and more than that, there’s definitely something wrong with Tommy, something that grabs his attention and keeps it, even though he can’t put a finger on what it is. So he just watches as Tommy brings his enderchest out of his inventory, and pulls out two music discs, staring at them both for a long second.

And then, he holds them out toward Dream.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” he repeats, and his voice is colorless.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” Dream replies, and takes the discs from Tommy’s hand. Tommy jerks his arm back quickly, face going pale as a sheet as he stumbles a bit.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s shaking, shaking hard, “don’t you fucking, don’t fucking touch—”

Sapnap’s not sure what the issue is. Dream’s fingers might have brushed Tommy’s when he accepted the discs, maybe, but he doesn’t know why that would cause such a reaction. Dream freezes in place, startled, and it’s impossible to tell where he’s looking, so Sapnap exchanges another glance with George and steps forward, intending to calm Tommy down, perhaps, to guide him out of the base so he can get back home. Maybe he’ll walk him himself; he’s not sure he trusts the kid not to get eaten by a zombie on the way, in the state he’s in.

But Tommy wheels on him, stabbing a shaking finger at him, and he stops in his tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s near tears, barely getting the words out, and Sapnap feels so lost. “Don’t get near me, just, just fuck off, why don’t you?”

“You’re in our base!” he says incredulously. “Tommy, what is up with you?”

Tommy just shakes his head. His eyes drift back over to Dream, and the discs in his hand. His face contorts, and Sapnap can’t even begin to interpret the expression he’s making, something sad and angry and desperate all at once, but with something else, something… weird. Everything about this is weird, though, and he doesn’t particularly want to admit that he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit, but frankly, he’s not sure he has a choice.

Because he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit.

“It’s for the best,” Tommy says, quietly, as if to himself, but his voice sounds so wrecked that Sapnap’s first instinct is actually to give him a hug. It’s easy enough to refrain, but still. “It’s for the, it’s for the best. For L’Manberg. It’s, um—” He glances up, right at Dream’s mask, and flinches again. “Right. I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but it never is. Bye, Dream.”

And then he’s backing out the entrance, and he’s gone.

“Bye, Tommy,” Dream says, somewhat belatedly, and then they all stand there in silence for a good two minutes. Dream turns the discs over and over in his hands, a repetitive motion. Sapnap recognizes it for what it is—a self-soothing mechanism, something to calm himself with. He’s rattled.

“So, that was really weird, right?” George says, and Sapnap lets out a long breath.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’d say that was weird, George.” And then he whirls on Dream. “And you! Are you serious right now? You’re just going to, what, let them make their country, just like that? Over a couple of discs? Seriously?”

Dream takes a moment before replying, and when he does, his voice is low, considering.

“I want to see where this goes,” he says. “I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t think that Tommy would be willing to give up these discs for—well, for anything. And the fact that he did this on his own? Without even telling anyone? You’re right, it’s weird. I want to figure it out.” He shrugs, posture untensing. The discs vanish into his inventory. “Besides, I have the discs now, which means I have power over him. And we can always declare war again later if we want. I promised him L’Manberg’s freedom, not that they would get to keep it.”

He frowns. “I guess.”

Power over Tommy. Normally, he’d agree. Holding the discs over his head in the past has worked wonders. But the way Tommy looked, the way he came to them of his own volition, suggested giving up the discs himself—something about him has changed, and Sapnap’s no longer sure that it will be that simple. Because sure, his face when he gave them up was agonized, but then there was everything else, too, everything he said, the way he was acting, like he thought there was some bigger threat on the horizon, and that it wasn’t Dream.

Weird. Just, so weird.

“Alright, I guess we see how this goes, then,” George says.

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes,” he echoes, and wonders why the words inspire such dread in him.

They go back to their movie. But though they sit together again, pressed into each other’s sides, none of them relax. The tension in the room does not leave, and he knows that none of them are paying attention to the movie at all, that all of them are lost in their own thoughts, and he resents it, a bit. He wants that easy camaraderie back. Wants his friends, his friends and simpler times, before war, before discs, before Tommy-fucking-Innit and all the rest of them. Just him and Dream and George, messing around, doing what they want, making a server into a home.

Simpler times seem like a long way away. Sapnap thinks about it long into the early morning, long after the credits stop rolling, and can’t come to a conclusion that satisfies him. Can’t find peace. He doesn’t think the other two can, either.

But then, he’s not sure what else he expected. Sometimes, he thinks he’s forgotten what peace means.

[jimlingss]

Moirai [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You’re ten years old when you finally get to go to the Solar Festival.   “Come right up and challenge this brute to an arm wrestle!”   “Get your candy! Fresh candy from the west right here!”   It’s the first time you’re not deathly ill and practically on your deathbed, a secret which has been kept deep in the Devereux house. God forbid, their only heir is found to be weak. It could be detrimental to the whole aristocratic balance.   But frankly, you’re surprised you’re even alive.   While Anastasia’s death occurs shortly after she turns eighteen, the impending doom never stops weighing on your mind. You just count your blessings as each year passes.   You’re ecstatic to finally be able to go to the Solar Festival too. But you can’t believe it’s with Prince Jungkook and his bratty ass.   A year ago, you were horrified to find out you were engaged to him. It came out of nowhere, an announcement in the morning that nearly had you choking on your breakfast. You don’t know how your father managed to pull such strings, but you’re not entirely surprised. It was part of the original storyline after all.   Luckily, little has changed. It’s an arrangement only in name and was the gossip of tea parties for just a week. Jungkook is still largely uninterested in you. If anything, he still seems scared of you for that stunt you pulled when you first met. But you’re going to keep it that way.    If you can’t win him over with overbearing kindness, then fear works.   “Hey, you.” The Prince taps you on your shoulder and you realize he’s talking to you. He didn’t even refer you to your name. The damn brat. Jungkook points off to a stand and then grins. “Think you can win a prize?”   It’s a booth with three different targets two meters away and slingshots. A simple game with pretty good prizes.   You muse the game developers used a lot of modern inspirations in creating this world. The Solar Festival isn’t far off from markets and carnivals from the twenty-first century.   Jungkook smiles lazily and lolls his head at you. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”   You scoff as he saunters off. For being only ten years old, he sure is cocky for his age.   The Prince flicks a golden coin at the vendor who bows at him and he grabs the slingshot and ball. His left eye closes and the tip of his tongue sticks out as he aims. Jungkook releases after a moment and the ball hits the second ring of the target.   “Amazing job, Your Highness,” the commoner stutters out while bowing again.   Jungkook pays no mind to him, but he turns his head towards you and smirks. “See?”   Your brow twitches and you step up to the booth. You grab the slingshot out of his hand, take a ball and within two seconds, you fire.    Bullseye.   It’s your turn to shift and smirk at the Prince. Pft. A game like this is easy peasy. C’mon, you used to play at arcades and amusement parks where all their games were professionally rigged.   “C-Congratulations!” The vendor hands you a massive brown bear that nearly overcomes you in size.   Jungkook’s jaw has dropped.   “Would you like the prize, Your Highness?”   He points at you. “You cheated!”   “Excuse me?!”   “Cheater!”   Jungkook stomps away and you’re left following after him while glaring into his backside.    The two of you are accompanied by two knights trailing after you. It’s more intimate than being surrounded in a room full of adults and dressed in extravagant attire. You suppose going to the Solar Festival together with the Prince, aka. your fiancé, is supposed to give off the impression that you’re actually close to him and that this isn’t just a shallow engagement.    The actual truth emerges as you’re busy studying the sign of a food booth. You’re perplexed that they have corn dogs here, or whatever they call it in Ashea, and as you turn around, Jungkook and the guards are gone.   Are you fucking kidding me? Did he actually leave you behind?!   You start wandering, scanning the heads around, looking past hordes of strangers, darting between their legs, dodging bodies. But the crowd is thick and before you’re swept up completely, you flounder out of the mass to the perimeters of the Solar Festival. It’s emptier there, only couples searching for an intimate space and stragglers who want a breath of air.    But by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, a familiar boy comes into your sight.   What the hell is he doing here?   You step back in surprise and cover your face with your massive plush bear. It's only when you peek out that your eyes permanently set onto Taehyung. He’s dressed in a black cloak, but the brown strands of his hair are too distinct. He’s taller than when you last remembered, growing into his skin as well. His cheeks are less rounded than before, eyes becoming sharper.   He doesn’t notice you, at least not yet. He’s too busy taking in the Solar Festival, gawking at the crowds, the twinkling lights and glowing lanterns. He stands at a distance, seemingly overwhelmed.   It feels like you’ve accidentally stumbled into a scene you’re not a part of.   It’s then that you remember there was a flashback in the game. Jungkook invited him to go out, but he couldn’t until he gave into the temptation and snuck outside the castle walls himself. This marks the first time Taehyung left the palace since his mother’s passing three years ago. He’s been trapped inside as the embodiment of the royal family’s shame since.   In the game, you remember he wanted food but didn’t have a single coin to his name.   But that’s not your problem.   You’re not supposed to be here anyway. So, you turn and walk away………………..   “Do you want a corn dog?”    Yet, somehow, you find yourself shown up in front of him regardless, arm extended with the stick of deep fried batter. Taehyung’s caught off guard, eyes wide but you’ve already diverted your vision, staring off at the side with an unknowing pout.    You can’t keep running away. You don’t want to.    The last time you did, Taehyung’s mother suffered the consequences of your inaction.   “I don’t know what they call it here in Ashea, but it’s a corn dog to me.”   The pair of you end up sitting together on a bench on the outskirts of the festival. The enormous teddy bear you won sits upright to your left as Taehyung is on your right. You’d be shrouded in darkness if not for the dim luminescence of the strung lights at the distance.    You bite into the hot corn dog, listening to the crunch and Taehyung’s chewing beside you.   He doesn’t say much, so you focus on gobbling up the oily treat.    Truth be told, you feel pity for Taehyung. Guilty. In a lot of ways, the two of you are similar. Outcasted. Isolated. The game developers are real assholes for creating this kind of backstory for the main antagonists while all the protagonists do is fall in love.    Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands onto your navy pea coat.    The maids can clean it later.   “This is actually the first time I’ve been to the Solar Festival,” you pipe up, swinging your legs on the edge of the bench.   He looks at you, chewing in his cheek. “It’s mine too.”   You figured.   Suddenly, a surge of motivation washes over you.    Alright! You got some money on you. You can blow your entire allowance today and make it the best day ever for Taehyung!   You twist yourself to him with conviction set in your eyes. He’s startled and leans back. “Is there anything you want to do here then?!”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “Not really.”   You deflate. “Oh.”   It simmers down into quietness again, the bustle filling the spaces in between. Taehyung looks straight ahead yet you still catch his timid voice. “I never thought I’d see you again.”   It sinks in after a delayed second and you turn to him slowly. “You remember me?”   It was less than five minutes. Three years ago. A brief encounter at his mother’s burial.   “Why would I forget?” Taehyung smiles softly to himself. “So I’m just happy sitting here beside you.”   In hindsight, he probably wouldn’t have followed you or eaten beside you compliantly if you were a complete stranger to him. But to hear him say that aloud, you feel even sadder. You’re probably the closest thing he has to a friend right now.   You become silent, the knowledge of his future and yours heavy upon your shoulders.   “Revenge isn’t as great as you think it is,” you mutter.   The ten-year old boy frowns. “Pardon?”   You shake your head. “Never mind.”    What’s the point? It’s not like you could say anything to make it better. You know he’s dead set on it, on avenging his mother’s murder and you can’t even blame him for being so angry. For being so fixated. So lonely.   He’s hidden in the castle’s shadows — the only person who cared for him is gone.   You recall from the wikipage on the characters that it’s around this time Taehyung starts dabbling in magic by himself. He ends up becoming one of the greatest magicians in the empire, but obviously winds up using it for bad.   You eagerly twist yourself towards the boy, nearly nose to nose with him. “Don’t learn magic!”   “What?” Taehyung’s frowning, unable to understand where your random demand came from.   You lean closer to him. “Magicians aren’t that great and magic can blow up in your face. Literally.”   A beat later, your eyes stray off of Taehyung’s eyes to three figures in the distance. Jungkook is spinning in every direction, lugging his legs, expression tired and begrudging. The two knights are also looking around and you realize they’re searching for you.   “I have to go.” You hop onto your feet and grab your brown bear. “Bye!”   “Wait!” Taehyung whips himself around, but by then, you’ve already run off. His hand slips into the cloak’s pocket and he looks down at the pink handkerchief in hand with a small sigh.    You feel bad about leaving him behind, but you hope he enjoys the festival even if it’s just a little.

The room is small, dark and dank. With only a single bed in a wooden frame and a wardrobe, he often sits facing the window, looking up at the azure sky and the cotton clouds that are drifting past.   “Your Highness.”   A maid knocks at the door and he turns, sliding off the bed to follow after her quietly without question.   The only time he’s allowed to leave his bedroom is to the study. ‘Even if he’s a bastard child, no son of the King can be uneducated’ is what they said.   “You got two wrong on your examination.” The tutor flips over the parchments. “I’m surprised you managed to memorize up to the fifth volume of the Kalisis scriptures and the fundamental theory of Mahhild, but we’ll have to review Ashea’s sacred Imperial Language.”   Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”   “Do better next time.”   Silence settles as the older man puts aside the parchment and goes to pull books from the nearby shelves. In the meanwhile, Taehyung’s eyes stray outside the window to the wispy clouds, keeping still in his seat. He doesn’t ask many questions. He simply learns what is given to him and apologizes when he fails. But his mind strays to a girl in a navy pea coat, someone with a soft expression, who somehow always appears in front of him when he needs it most. And he can’t help his curiosity—   “Sir.” At the sound of his voice, the tutor turns around. “Do you...happen to know anyone by the name of Anastasia?”   The older man’s brow quirks. “You mean the Crown Prince’s fiancée, Anastasia Loretta Devereux?”   Taehyung’s caught off guard. “Fiancée?”   “Why do you ask?”   “N-No reason. I just heard of the name somewhere.” He looks away and the man finishes grabbing the textbooks, dropping them down on the surface in front of him. Taehyung’s fist is crumpled in his lap, quiet.    He didn’t know you were Jungkook’s fiancée. He didn’t know you were from the Devereux house either. Even he’s heard of that name before — the Duke’s house is an influential one.   Taehyung doesn’t know anything about you. He realizes it now.   But that doesn’t mean his desire has dwindled away. He still wants to see you again.   “Is it...possible to travel to another estate, but not by carriage?”   “Not by carriage?” The tutor pushes up his spectacles, puzzled by the inquiry that has come out of nowhere. “There’s horse, boat, ship, teleportation, but of course, you’re not allowed to use magic. Is there somewhere you would like to go?”   He quickly shakes his head.    They would never let him leave.   But he’s tired of waiting for the next encounter, for the next coincidence.   That night, Taehyung cracks open the door of his room. The hallway is swallowed in darkness with only a tiny sliver of the moon’s luminescence that will wane away tomorrow. So with his breath hitched and no one in sight, he slips into the shadows. He traces his steps down the corridor, turning the corner, up the small staircase and enters the library next door to the study.    Taehyung cringes as the glass doors creak, but once the gap is large enough, he fits himself through. The bookcases tower up three floors, ceiling high and the walkways between shelves narrow.    He doesn’t know where he should go, so he twists through the endless library and glances at the spines of the books before moving on.   It’s half an hour later that he finds what he’s looking for.    Magic: A Basic Guide for Beginners.   Taehyung reaches up on the tips of his toes and smoothly pulls the spine from its slot. He holds the emerald green cover to his chest and beelines straight out of the library.   He arrives back in his room with little to no trouble and sits on the floor far away from the door. Taehyung’s back leans against the wooden bedpost and he faces the window to allow the silver light to catch onto the cover. He cracks it open a second later and flips through the crisp pages until he finds what he’s looking for.   Teleportation.   A type of transport magic that allows one to travel to different locations without having to traverse the spaces in between. It is accomplished by the user visualizing the desired location and channeling their mana. If successful, the user will disappear from their current location and materialize at their desired location.    Transportation is by far the fastest way to travel between large distances. However, the success in which a user is able to teleport is dependent on skill level, inborn magical abilities and how detailed the location can be visualized.   Taehyung reads each word carefully and flips over the page to see if there are more details.   Once he realizes that’s all to be read, he shuts his eyes.    He doesn’t know where you are. He doesn’t know what the Devereux estate looks like.   But he thinks about you. The girl who handed him that pink handkerchief, the one who appeared in front of him with a stick of food, who sat beside him underneath that tree, on that bench.   Please let me see her again. Please.   Please.   Through sheer willpower, Taehyung suddenly feels a rush in his body as if he’s falling inside a dream. His senses tingle. Then, there’s cold wind pulling against his cheeks and through his hair, the moonlight no longer shining on his eyes.   His lashes flutter as his lid pulls open.   He’s standing in an empty, grassy field. But at the horizon is an illuminated manor.   The corner of his mouth tugs and he takes a step towards it.   But—   “No. No!”   He feels himself being pulled back. A force that prevents him from moving any further. Taehyung’s arm stretches out towards the manor the size of his thumb as if he could grab onto it. But no matter how hard he tries to stay, the next moment he blinks, he’s returned to the small, dark, dank room.   Taehyung’s chest rises and falls.   He was so close.   There’s a quiet knock at the door and he jolts out of his trance. Instantly, he pushes the book underneath the bed.   The door cracks open. Luckily, it isn’t a maid, servant or someone who’s come to punish him. It’s a dark haired boy with doe eyes, his younger brother who’s two inches shorter than he is.    “Taehyung?”   Taehyung stands up. “What are you doing here?”   Jungkook pouts, dressed in oversized, silk pajamas. “I thought we could play.”   “You know the Queen won’t be happy if she sees me with you.”   “I know.” Jungkook’s voice is pitched, brown eyes looking into his. Yet, he’s still hesitant at the doorway. “But no one will know!”   His younger brother is clueless. He has no idea what consequences or punishment means. He’s the Crown Prince. Pampered. Beloved. Everything he wants, he gets. He came here to play without knowing that if anyone saw, Taehyung would be the one punished. Starved. Locked into his room. There’s a reason he’s kept in the cold Western towers and Jungkook is free to roam the South, East and Northern wings. The entire castle is at his feet.   It’s unfair.   It’s so unfair that Taehyung wants to scream. But no one will hear.   They’re the same. Two boys with the same father. A few months apart. Yet one is loved and the other loathed.   Taehyung’s afraid one day he will come to hate Jungkook.   “We still shouldn’t. Go back to bed, Jungkook.”   “I can’t even stay for a minute?” He huffs out, shoulders slumping, dejected. Taehyung pulls the covers and climbs into his bed. After another moment, Jungkook gives up. “Fine. Goodnight.”   The door shuts and Taehyung rolls on his side to look out the window.   He was so close. A few more minutes and it would’ve been enough.   //   Taehyung guesses he has a natural gift for magic. The book says transportation is one of the more difficult spells that needs a lot of practice, but he made it on his first try without even knowing where the estate is.   The place only becomes more vivid in his mind the more times he goes. It becomes easier for him to visualize, easier for him to visit. And he tries with every chance he gets, every moment of his day, every minute spent alone.   Taehyung steals these secret seconds that have become what he looks forward to most. It’s the reason why he wakes up. Each time, he gathers his magic and teleports himself, it’s an opportunity to see you.   This time, it’s in the afternoon after lunch is brought to his room. Taehyung shuts his eyes and tries to imagine the manor with its brown walls, rounded windows, green field, a majestic arcway door.   When he opens his eyes and looks down at his hands materializing, he discovers that he’s at the side of the house, standing next to the wall.   “My lady!”   Taehyung jolts and peeks out from the corner. There’s a maid looking around and shouting with her hands cupped around her mouth. “My lady! Your dance lessons are starting! My lady?!”    His eyes stray upwards and the corner of his mouth tugs when he finds you in a tall tree. You’re wearing a brown dress with a flower bonnet, hidden up in the branches with a mischievous smile as you look down at the dismayed maid who’s completely oblivious.    He stifles back a laugh.   But it withers away when his body starts to fade.   No. No!   When Taehyung blinks again, he’s returned to his room. Back to where he belongs.   He slumps down on his bed in disappointment. He wanted it to last longer. But maybe next time. Next time, he’ll try harder and maybe then…..maybe then, he’ll actually get to talk to you.   //   The next evening, when no one’s around, Taehyung tries once more.   He shuts his eyes and thinks of you, thinks about the land, the house.   And it comes faster to him this time.    He doesn’t have to wait as long before he feels the breeze against his cheeks, the air fresh to his nose. He’s placed at the same spot as yesterday, by the wall near the back. Except neither you nor a maid are outside. In your place is the sun setting over the horizon, the rays casting into his eyes through the tree branches. The sky is painted in shades of a blazing bonfire, amber, ruby, citrine.   But Taehyung’s not here to admire the outside world. He looks down at his hands to make sure he’s materialized and he starts pacing around the perimeter of the manor. He ducks beneath windows when workers or kitchen staff walk by and sneaks along the walls to make sure he’s not caught.   It seems like he won’t be able to find you today.   But then he hears a— “ha!” followed by a metal whistle as something cuts through the air.   Taehyung peeks through the window to see you swinging your sword in the middle of your bedroom. You’re twirling it around, but after a moment, the weapon clanks to the ground and you drop down next to it on your butt.    “God, I’m so tired!”   Taehyung smiles to himself. His fist lifts to knock on the glass.   At the same time, the corner of your eye catches movement. So you turn your head.   But there’s nothing there.   Your brows furrow and you blink hard. But there really is nothing outside your windows. You swore you saw someone.    Maybe you’re just going crazy.    You should probably call quits for tonight and stop practicing.    You don’t know that miles away, Taehyung has appeared back in his room, looking down at his hands stitching into its form, materializing in the small, dark, and dank space. More importantly, he doesn’t see the horrified maid standing at the open doorway until it’s too late.   He’s been caught.   “Where did you go?”    Taehyung’s thrown onto the marble flooring, cheek bruised at the Queen’s feet. She looks down at him, dressed in a luxurious black gown with golden flowers, hair pulled in an updo with silver ornaments. The maid who tattled smirks as she stands on the sidelines. A guard passes the Queen the emerald spell book and she glances at it before tossing it on the ground where he’s been flung.   “And don’t you dare try to deny it.”   Taehyung sharply inhales at his stinging cheek and looks to the open book.   He exhales a silent breath of relief.    They don’t have the handkerchief.   If they did, she would’ve ripped it in front of him and thrown down the shreds. He’s glad he hid it well between his pillowcase.   “I...I just wanted to go outside. I’m sorry.”   “You’re lying.”   Taehyung looks up. “I swear—!”   Before he can inhale, Taehyung’s head is suddenly whipped to his side. The sound of the slap echoes through the lavish chamber and his hand lifts to cup at his numb cheek now printed with the Queen’s diamond rings.    “You lie!” she spits at him, eyes narrowed in.    “You think I was born yesterday?! There’s no reason for you to use magic to go outside. I know what you’re doing. You’re conspiring against me! Against the King. You’re trying to get rid of your brother and take the throne for yourself! Who taught you?! Who were you visiting?! Tell me.”   Taehyung grits his teeth. He turns his head to look back at the woman.   His hands crumple into fists.   “No one.”   Tears flood his vision. All he wanted was to see you.   But he’s weak. He can’t do anything. Much less fulfill his only wish.   “You dare lie to me again?” She scoffs. “Whoever it is, I will find them and I will punish them.”   He can’t protect himself. He couldn’t protect his own mom.   But he can still protect you.   “I said, no one taught me and I was seeing no one.”   She scoffs loudly and points to the maid by the door. “You there! Report to the King what you found out. When you’re done, let everyone know that this bastard is to be confined to his room for the next three months on full watch. Make sure he won’t be able to leave no matter what.”   “Yes, Your Majesty.”   The Queen stands, height looming over the ten-year old boy. She looks him dead in the eye, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t think this is the end of it. I won’t let you run around and do as you wish like your whorish mother did. You can deny it for all you want. You won’t eat until you speak.”   “Take him away!” she shouts at the guards and they grab the back of his collar, dragging him upwards and out. Taehyung doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry. His eyes dim as he looks at the woman until the gap of the door shuts in his face.    He won’t see you anymore. Not until he becomes strong enough.   Inside the room, the Queen collapses back onto her sofa. She sighs heavily and rubs her throbbing temples between her fingertips. Her personal attendant comes to her side and bows. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”   “It’s suffocating being here,” she mutters and drops her hand. “Hmm, maybe I’ll take the trip down to the Summer Palace in Florendale early this year.”   The maid dips her head. “I will make the preparations then.”

Edith swiftly enters the room one morning, drawing the curtains roughly and shedding the blinding sunlight into your still-sleepy eyes. You wince and pull the covers over your head, but she rips them off of you unceremoniously.   What the hell. Seriously?!   “It’s time to get ready.”   “Why?” you groan, peeling one eye open and pressing your cheek to your pillow.   Edith doesn’t stop moving. She opens the doors to your wardrobe and starts picking through the racks of dresses. “The Queen is on her deathbed with the incurable plague. The Duke and Duchess will be leaving for the castle immediately within ten minutes. You must go with them to fulfill your duties as the heir of the Devereux house.”   It takes a delayed moment for the information to sink into your foggy mind.   But then, you’re bolting upright with wide eyes. “Wait. What?!”    You’re horrified.    This isn’t part of the original game. The Queen is supposed to be alive and well even past your supposed execution date!   But there’s no time to dwell when your face is washed and you’re dressed in a black gown, barely enough time to brush your hair. You’re rushed into the carriage and the coachman rides at a hasty speed. Your mother, in the meanwhile, lectures you to stay quiet and solemn.   Your entire family soon arrives at the familiar castle and you’re guided to the main hall.   Jungkook is sobbing in the corner, being comforted by a swarm of attendants. You’re at a loss, looking around, trying to grasp what’s going on. There’s no sight of Taehyung whatsoever.   Your father, carrying the high status of the Duke, manages to visit the King and the Queen in their personal chambers. You’re brought along behind your mother, staying silent as she had instructed you to do. Your parents offer their condolences, but when you peek out behind her and past the royal healers, blood drains from your face.   The Queen is pale. Barely breathing in her bed. Cysts and welts bubble on her wrinkled skin.   Even you know she’s not going to recover. But how? How did this happen?!   The respects your parents give doesn’t last long. You’re soon being brought into the main hall again in favour of delegates from the smaller Eastern empire giving their condolences. But on your way, you catch the murmurs of the maids.   “—plague in Florendale.”   “How awful! If only Her Majesty went in the Autumn season as she usually does. I don’t know why she chose to go earlier this year.”   “It was truly the wrong place at the wrong time.” — “A tragedy!” — “Why is Her Majesty’s fate so unfortunate?”   You can barely stitch together the pieces of what happened and all the gaps in between are full of more questions. Why these changes are happening. Why the original game is changing so much.   What this means.   A feeling of uncertainty swells inside of you.