#yes i will still follow the brainwashing protocol

[gallusneve]

My debilitating period cramps struck me in the middle of the base playing colors and I was outside

Had to shakingly salute the entire time, crying

[andypantsx3]

ab intra | 2 | de minimis

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi / Reader

length: 18,811 words / 6 chapters

summary: When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

tags: romance, thriller, misunderstandings, pro hero AU, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, suicide mentions, brainwashing, consensual mind control, some violence

You’d thought you’d have time the next morning to mentally brace for seeing Shinsou again. You were wrong.

At four thirty in the morning, the shrill tone of your work phone cut through the dark of your room. You shot up out of your bed, grasping blindly for your nightstand.

“They struck again,” your captain’s gravelly voice carried over the line. He rattled off the name and address of a casino in the heart of downtown, demanding you get there immediately, then hung up on you. You groaned and rolled off your mattress, dressing blindly in the dark. You threw your hair into a messy approximation of a ponytail, then ran out the door.

You managed to get to the station just in time to catch a subway headed into downtown and spent the entire ride anxiously tapping your foot, wondering how many people had been hurt this time.

At downtown, it was immediately clear something horrible had happened. Just outside the station, ambulance and police lights flashed in the pre-dawn dark, and a tangled knot of nearly a hundred people choked the sidewalk. They overflowed onto the main road, which had been blocked off with neon cones, a sleepy-looking officer waving traffic around into the opposite lane.

You trotted up to the police tape, spotting several patrol cops huddled in a group with Aya and another team member. A head of untidy indigo hair towered over the bunch. You suppressed a groan and picked your way over.

“What happened?” you asked.

One of the patrol officers detailed an eerily familiar situation for you; three people who had killed themselves, tables and tills emptied, security footage missing, and close to thirty minutes erased from almost fifty minds. Your stomach churned as a splint was carried out of the casino’s main entrance, a thick layer of dark fabric over a still form.

You caught a hard look passing over Shinsou’s face as he watched the paramedics pile the splint into the back of an ambulance. He was dressed in the same uniform you’d seen him in yesterday, scarf and that strange mask hanging from his throat. You wondered for just a brief moment what they had in common, and what kind of quirk they supported. Then he looked at you, raising a dark eyebrow, and the moment was gone.

“Who were the witnesses whose memories were tampered with?” you asked, turning back to the officer. The officer directed you over to a throng of people standing just over to the side, some of them still being looked over by a set of EMTs.

You broke off from the group, pacing over to where the witnesses huddled. The heat of a tall body at your back told you Shinsou was following you closely.

“If you have some kind of time rewind quirk, now would be a good time to tell me,” you said, turning to him, trying to tamp down on your frustration. Showing up at a still-warm crime scene like this was always upsetting, and it was hard to reign your emotions in. “Or something useful in catching a criminal like this.”

Shinsou’s purple eyes flickered over you. “Afraid not, kitten. And don’t think you’re getting anything out of me.”

You sighed. Hundreds of quirks at their disposal and the Public Safety Commission had sent you some jerk who, as far as you could tell, either had a quirk to do with scarves or a quirk to do with being incredibly annoying. You wished, not for the first time, for a quirk of your own. You’d never needed anything more than your brain and your handgun to straighten out a case before, but you wouldn’t say no to something that would help you solve this one and make Shinsou disappear.

You stepped up to the huddled group of witnesses, asking for those who had yet to give their statements. The first people to volunteer themselves were a pair of college girls, clearly barely over the drinking age, dressed in slinky, sequined dresses with slight variation in the cut and colors. It was clear they had planned a fun night on the town that had ended very, very badly.

You opened up a recording app on your phone, and introduced yourself and Shinsou. Then you launched into the standard line of question, Shinsou a tall, silent warmth at your back.

“Can you recount for me what happened?” you asked the girls.

One of them shook her dyed blond locks. “No, not really. One minute we were at the bar, ordering more shots because we had just lost really badly at roulette, and the next I was on the floor and Eriko was all the way across the room, huddled in a corner,” she gestured to her friend.

“What was in between for you? Did you register time passing at all and just didn’t know what happened?”

She shook her head. “No. It was like….” she thought for a moment, “....like when you’re really drunk and you get black out. Like stuff maybe happened but when you wake up the next morning, there’s like a black hole in your brain and you can’t tell if there was time in between or not.”

Her friend Eriko nodded. “Literally just like that. It feels the same way. The last thing I remember was feeling really weird, like my vision went all crazy? And then I woke up on the other side of the bar.”

Shinsou made a noise low in his throat and leaned over your shoulder. He was close, close enough that you could feel his chest brush your back and catch the soft scent of something light, like citrus. “Something happened to your vision?” he asked.

Eriko looked up at him, and you spied something like a blush spreading across her nose. “Y-yeah. Like I don’t know if it was because we were already kind of drunk or whatever. But I lost focus for a second, and stuff got kind of hazy?”

You looked up into Shinsou’s face, interested in why he’d seized on this detail. He stared cooly back at you, his purple eyes dark in the pre-dawn gloom. He offered no explanation, instead turning to look at the blonde girl.

“Did something happen to your vision too?” he asked.

Her delicate brow furrowed. “I’m...not sure. It’s hard to think back to right before...”

Shinsou leaned in. “Remember for me,” he said.

Your own brow creased at the strange, indelicate nature of the phrasing. He sounded almost like he was ordering her, and your temper flared. It wasn’t protocol to shape queries into demands, especially given the often fragile state of victims, and you made a mental note to ream him out for it later.

The girl didn’t seem to mind him, though, eyes fogging with the memory. “I...yes. All I remember before the black out was feeling like the room had gotten wobbly. Hazy is a good way to describe it.”

Shinsou nodded, seeming satisfied. “Thanks.”

Now this was an interesting detail. Nowhere in the mountain of paperwork you’d been able to collect from the investigators dispatched to the first two locations had you spotted any information like this.

“We should ask the others if this was the case for them as well. Could be the alcohol, but it’s worth finding out more,” you said begrudgingly.

It seemed maybe Shinsou knew his way around the finer details of mental quirks, then. You wondered if the Commission had sent him not because of his own quirk, whatever it was that the fucking scarf had to do with it, but because he had experience dealing with similar villains? That could be useful, more useful than you had thought he might be.

Still, his bedside manner was going to need some work.

You asked the girls a couple of follow up questions and took down their contact information, then moved on to another witness. You were surprised to find that this witness too, and a fair few others after, claimed the same effect on their vision, when probed on the finer details.

The most difficult part of the questioning by far was having to interview the friends of the people who’d killed themselves. You almost wanted to delay speaking to them until the end, but it would be cruel to make them wait any longer when so much had happened. One man had been with two of the women who had taken their own lives, and he was hardly able to choke out any information between sobs. You’d gone to fetch him a foil shock blanket, and after that he was a little better, just coherent enough to run you through the victims’ actions prior to their death.

“I just can’t believe someone could make them do this,” he said shakily. “They were both just so tough, so strong. They just had it together, you know? I don’t understand what kind of a quirk could make someone kill themselves. Why someone would even want to...?”

This train of thought seemed to set him off again, igniting a series of small, hiccuping sobs, and you tried to reroute him. Shinsou shifted uncomfortably at your shoulder.

“Can you tell me about what happened to you, just before your memory blanks out?” you asked gently.

The man took a breath. “I saw Yuki, one of my friends. One of the ones who….well. She was looking at something across the room and it looked like she was gonna pass out for a second. Then it was like she snapped out of it, and she started to yell something. That’s where it ends for me…”

Shinsou’s keen eyes flickered over the man. “Did you see what she was looking at?”

The man shook his head. “I turned to look but I don’t know. I remember moving my head but that’s it.”

You nodded and jotted down a couple notes. Shinsou asked him a couple more questions in his low tone, seeming very intent on the man’s movements, the movements and minute reactions of his friends. He dug fairly deep on any strange feelings or impressions the man had, even on things earlier in the evening, and he--weirdly--asked a lot specific questions on how the man had been feeling just before it all happened--had he had any weird shifts in thought pattern? Had he been feeling a little anxious or uncomfortable, like he’d forgotten something?

After that, it took you a fair few hours to cycle through all the rest of the people who had been at the scene, but by the end of it you’d collected a lot of interesting new information. Shinsou made a few other brusque demands, which annoyed you, but overall it didn’t seem to affect the witnesses much, who still compliantly answered to his requests.

The sun was well up in the sky by the time you finished, and you were almost too exhausted without your usual coffee in hand to start an argument with Shinsou.

You did anyway.

“Okay, you can’t just order witnesses around,” you hissed when you’d wrapped up with the last person and started towards the precinct. “You need to treat them with delicacy or it could mess with the veracity of the information they give us. If you’re going to be working my case, you’re going to follow procedure.”

Shinsou smirked down at you, lifting a corded arm to tousle his hair in unconcern. “You don’t call the shots, kitten.”

You glared up at him. With the morning sun washing over the planes of his face and catching in the violet of his eyes, he looked even prettier than yesterday, and you could easily understand why the blonde girl had blushed at being addressed by him. The thought irritated you further.

“You might think that you have all the power right now,” you intoned, “but make no mistake. I am the professional here, and you are a contractor on loan. You will listen to me.”

This seemed to amuse him.

“You’re quite accustomed to being the one in charge, aren’t you?” he asked, a peculiar little smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You suppressed an eye roll. There was a reason a case of this complexity had been assigned to you, why all your reports were so neatly handled. You were good at leading things, particularly investigations, so the question hardly needed posing.

“Yes, and you would do well to remember that,” you said.

A strange feeling washed over you suddenly, a small tension at the back of your mind just before a feeling of vertigo hit you. You stumbled a little, almost tripping, and Shinsou curled an arm around you, catching you easily like this was something you did all the time, something that he was expecting.

“Your concern for me is adorable, kitten,” he said. His arm tightened around you for just a moment, pressing you into him. You had just long enough to note how warm he was, his lean body unexpectedly hard with dense muscle, and catch a hint of that light scent again. And then he was moving, stepping away to pace ahead of you. “I think you will find, however, that I am even more accustomed to control.”

You stared after him, mood darkening like the sky before a storm. You didn’t know what kind of backing he thought he had from the Public Safety Commission that gave him such smug self-assurance, but he was in for a rude fucking awakening.

A plan began to form in the back of your mind as you trailed after him, stepping back into the precinct offices. Though clearly not well known, Shinsou was a hero, which meant that some ranking and information must be out there about him. He might not want to tell you anything himself, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a wealth of dirt for you to find on him, details for you to track down to finally, finally get some measure of a handle on him.

He might think he was in charge, might think he was holding all the cards right now.

But if you were good at one thing, it was investigating.

[bellveder]

Me doing a graphic design project:

Use photos of favourite actors as a template instead of photos of the actual speakers/guests, so every time I see the photos, I got excited and can misattribute the excitement to the work.

I can't be the only one doing this right? Anyone who else here doing this?

So how's the design process?

It goes something like this:

Design brief:

"We want a professional, eye-catching poster for an international event, the previous designers couldn't make it eye catching"

Eye catching? Alright... Let's make something biiiiggg to catch the eye.

"No no no, it's too big, we don't want too many ornaments, we want the texts to be the main focus"

Like this?

(I can write it as speakers and affiliation, but why would I, it's just a template only I would use)

"We want the pictures of the speakers to be bigger we want them to also be the focus"

Is this big enough for you???

Wait now we can't put the texts.

"Oh, btw we want it to be cheerful"

So you want a cheerful, eye-catching, professional design with minimum ornaments and mostly just consist of texts...

Shit, I am dark and unempathetic, I can't make cheerful designs.

Alright, let's get some colorful, romantic comedy vibes.

Which brings us to the main poster design at the top.

Is this cheerful enough for you???

Now let's go back to the module poster

At this point, my brother caught a glimpse of my workspace and said, "Why do you have pictures of Frank Grillo and Sebastian Stan in your short course poster? Aren't those supposed to be your college teachers?"

"Yeah, but why would I put the real pictures when I can run wild with my imagination instead? I don't wanna limit my creativity, I'll put the necessary last"

"AND WHY DOES IT SAID MARRIAGE ISSUES?"

"BECAUSE I SHIP WINTERBONES THAT'S THE TOPIC OF THE MODULE "

Now imagine a winterbones course on marriage issues during zombie apocalypse the pandemic:

1.

Brock: "What do you mean you can't use a fucking blender? Put the fruit in the blender, not your brain!"

Winter: "I shouldn't put the fruit in my brain?"

Brock: "For fuck sake, use your fucking brain!"

Winter: "But you said I shouldn't put it in my brain."

Brock: "Fuck! It's like you got your brain in a blender again!"

2.

Brock: "For fuck sake, Winter, your hair is too long, it's getting ridiculous now. Get some haircut!"

Winter: "But we can't go out. Would you cut my hair?"

(One haircut later)

Winter: "Did you just cut my hair with the same hairstyle as yours?"

Brock: "Very observant of you."

Winter: "Why?"

Brock: "Because it's the best fucking hairstyle, that's why."

3.

Bucky: "Aliens, androids and wizards, they said, no one said anything about virus and zombies."

Brock: "or a brainwashed assassin cyborg."

Bucky: "or an asshole of a Commander, I'll take fighting Gandalf any day now."

4.

Bucky: "What do you mean find a helicopter? I've lived for a century and you're telling me that we still don't have a flying car?"

5.

Brock: "The test came out positive."

James: "You're pregnant?"

Brock: "What?! No! I got the virus!

James: "How? We stayed at home, got vaccinated, following every health protocol–"

Brock: "You're asking how I could get infected, yet not wondering how could I get pregnant?"

James: "You are?"

Brock: "No!"

6.

Brock: "Stay away from me! You'll catch the virus"

James: "I'm a super soldier, remember? I got better immune system"

Brock: "You might still..."

James: "Too late for that, I'm here"

7.

James: "You need to eat"

Brock: "I'm not your small little buddy Steve, you don't need to babying me"

James: "No, but you're still my shorty little baby brock"

8.

Brock: "Shit, did the virus takes your cooking skill too?"

James: "No, it takes your sense of taste and smell"

9.

Brock: "The boredom is fucking killing me. I need to get out!"

James: "It's not too bad. Better than being frozen in a cryo."

10.

James: "Did you know that as you're isolated and get more and more deprived of the world, your dreams and imagination got more and more bizarre?"

Brock: "And so does your nightmares."

James: "And daydreams. I'm a walking nightmare, and you're the daydream that makes it bearable."

Brock: "I think I am the nightmare."

11.

James: "Do you know that in our late years, as we're forgetting bit by bit memories of our lives, the later memories gone first until what remains is the early memories of our lives."

Brock: "Isn't that good? That means one day you get to live your early life as if none of those dark times ever happened as if they're just a long forgotten nightmare."

James: "But that also mean I will forget you first before I remember who I used to be, and I don't wanna forget you."

Brock: "I'll make you remember, or I'll make you fall in love with me again and we'll make new memories."

12.

James: "I am the Winter Soldier. Yes, it comes with a lot of bad things, but it also comes with you. This is who I am. I can't undone what I've been through or what I did, and I don't wanna undone us. It wasn't the best life, but you're part of that life. You're a part of who I am."

13.

James: "You can't leave me"

Brock: "But I will, if not now, one day, I got older as you're frozen in time all those years, and I only keep getting older everyday as you age one day at a year."

James: "You can't leave me, you're the only remains of my memories. I don't remember everything. Only shreds of terror, and then you."

14.

James: "Those experiences really did nothing on you, did it?"

Brock: "I did get one or two lesson."

James: "And that is?"

Brock: "That I'll live one every moment with you, and make sure each one get ingrained in your brain."

Oh, by the way, the actual short course on family during covid-19 does exist, and you can join by clicking here

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 2

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover. If you missed Chapter 1, Click Here

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter 2: An Arrival to be Remembered

UFO has been sited entering the Earth’s atmosphere

Unknown armed and masked being exit ship heading towards the White House, is the President in danger?

Aliens spotted in D.C.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, and got out of bed. You have been in the habit lately to start your day without checking your phone first. Mostly to avoid early morning emails from your boss before you have even had coffee.

You head to the bathroom relieve yourself, wash your face, and brush your hair. Exiting the bathroom you head to the kitchen and make yourself some breakfast and coffee. You enjoy the sunrise through the large windows in your apartment. Finishing eating you immediately wash your few dishes and get ready for work. You pick out your work ‘uniform’ of a black blouse and black trousers. You head to the bathroom to brush your teeth, put on a little makeup and get changed.

Heading back to the kitchen you prepare a to-go cup of coffee and pull out your lunch for work. Finally, you check your phone.

First, you see an email from your boss reminding you for the 10th time about the morning meeting that you have every Thursday. It isn’t like you to forget something you do every single week for the past year. Never once have you been late, in fact, he was always the one to forget. You wonder if these emails were meant more for him and less for you. But he was always the micromanager.

Next, you check your texts. Your usual morning photo from one of your siblings about one of your nieces/nephews. Another one from Hayden asking if you were still on for tomorrow night’s weekly bar trip. You answered ‘Yes 😀 .’ Another from Carter asking what you think of the news headlines this morning. Odd, although this isn’t the first time you two had discussed something like this it was odd to receive a text like this from them first thing in the morning.

You open Twitter to see #alieninvasiondc trending. You scroll through the news tag. Every major news site around the world is talking about the shuttlecraft that landed on the White House lawn last night, and the armed and armored soldiers that departed from the craft. All of the soldiers wore white armor, except one in silver. There was one who was in all black and a red-haired human-looking man among the group. Not much is known other than they haven’t been seen leaving the White House.

You text Carter back ‘Just looked now, either this is a hoax or the world as we know it is coming to an end. I’ll see you at work.’

You packed your work bag, grabbed your car keys and set off to work. You park in the ramp attached to your building and walk to the elevator. You wave at the security attendant to the opposing skywalk like you do every morning. You arrive at your floor and buzz-in. You say hi to Nancy in reception and head to your desk.

Strangely all of the televisions in the office were muted and tuned into CBC News, normally the one in the break room and the ones in reception were on, the others only really got used during Hockey Games or events like the Olympics. Your boss was in the walkway with his attention turned to his phone.

You set down your things at your desk and boot up your work computer while setting up your laptop on its stand. You did your usual check through work emails until the 9:00 AM weekly meeting. Your boss hasn’t moved from his position in the walkway.

8:55 AM hits and you grab what you need and head to the conference room. The tv was on in here as well. The others in the Marketing department filled in after you. Your boss, Scott, had yet to move from his place in the walkway. 9:00 AM hits and you continue small talk with your co-workers, most of the conversation is directed at the events in D.C.

9:05 AM your co-worker Ally sends a Slack message to your boss. He looks up from his phone to the clock on the wall and runs into his office. After a few minutes, he rushes out and into the conference room.

“Sorry, I am late everyone the Wife is just paranoid over this Alien Invasion thing. I can’t get her to stop texting me,” he chuckles.

Ironically this isn’t the first time he has been ‘late’ to a meeting after being on the phone with his wife an hour after work already started.

Suddenly you all get an Emergency Alert System notification on all of your phones.

‘International Emergency: Please tune in to your local news broadcasting station to receive an Emergency Report.’

Scott asks, “where is the damn remote?”

Ally hands it to him, he unmutes the tv.

The headline reads: ‘President of the United States has an Important International Government Update’

Live from Washington D.C.

On the screen, it shows the President of the United States, with the silver soldier, one in all black and the red-haired man from the video of the invasion last night.

“I have an important announcement. Earth has been contacted by people from space who call themselves the First Order. The First Order has informed me that they would like to peacefully work with Earth. As long as we fully cooperate as an entire planet no harm will come to any of us. Currently, our galaxy is at war, and the First Order seeks our help, in return of offering Earth protection from a group of people called the New Republic.

They have explained to me and the U.N. as a whole that the New Republic is not to be trusted along with their mercenary army called the Resistance. It is through my decision and the decision of the U.N. that we will cooperate and join forces with the First Order to be under their protection.

All citizens of Earth in the next 7 days must register with the First Order. You will be given a citizen number, some citizens may be reassigned to work directly with the First Order. All military personal will be reassigned to be under the First Order. You should not worry as most citizens will be unaffected, life will go on as normal. As long as citizens follow these orders and any orders to come, we shall be safe,” said the President. The President moved out of the way for the man in all black and with a black mask to move to the podium.

“I am the Supreme Leader of the First Order. I promise no harm will come to those who cooperate with us. We seek to peacefully transition your planet, as you know it Earth, to a primary First Order Planet. We value honesty and loyalty, along with hard work. We strive to rebuild the Empire and to maintain order in the galaxy. That is all,” The man's voice was distorted through the mask he was wear, it sounded mechanical or digital but it had a deep sound.

The broadcast cut back to the news anchor. “Currently all citizens of earth are to report to their a local city government building or town hall within the next 7 days for First Order registration and possible reassignment. All citizens must remain calm and do as the government has directed. Any questions or concerns will be answered by local government officials and First Order personnel. All foreign citizens to Canada will follow the same protocol as citizens. All citizens are asked to bring various forms of identification, such as a Passport, driver's license, birth certificate, social insurance number card, any immunization forms, military I.D. and more. You can find a full list of required documents at the CBC website or at canada.ca. As a reminder, all citizens are urged to stay calm and to follow all orders regarding and following First Order registration. Citizens are also advised to stay tuned to local news sources for any updates.”

The conference room sat stunned at the announcement.

“Well were f*****,” said Scott. “We are all surely f*****. Who are these people to think they can just take over like that? Do they think we are just going to sit by and let them brainwash us? Let them take everything from us?”

“I don’t think we have a choice, you heard the U.S. President, the U.N. is in agreement. This is for our own safety. If you are going to go against them and get yourself killed keep us out of it,” said Daniel one of your marketing co-workers.

“I’ll talk to Henry, and see if we can all take the week off, who knows this may be the last time we even get to see our families,” and with that statement, Scott left the conference room.

You sat there not really moving, processing what you just witnessed on the tv and the confrontation between Scott and Daniel. So did the rest of your co-workers. You could tell they were all in shock, the world as you knew it was about to change, the future had shifted.

All of your phones went off again. This time it was an email from Jonathan the CEO.

‘All employees will take today, tomorrow and next week off, in order to give proper attention to the government mandate. Please be safe and I hope to see you all come -Henry G. Wells’

Everyone in the conference room got up and went to their desks. The office was silent, except for the sounds of items being put away and people gathering their things. You were almost done getting ready to go when Carter appeared next to you.

They didn’t speak, for fear of being the first one to break the ominous silence. Carter just looked at you expectantly. You finished packing up and walked with them out of the office. The elevator was packed but silent. Everyone got off and walked to their cars. Carter followed you to yours.

Keeping their voice down, almost to a whisper, they asked, “I know I texted you this morning about all this but what do you think now? Do you want to go back to your place or mine?”

You thought about it for a moment before responding, “let’s go back to mine. We can discuss it from there.”

Carter accepted your response and went to their car to leave. You followed suit. Today was not what you expected.

Tags: @sheadre 

[you-know-like-the-bird]

The Day of Projectile Chairs

Alright so this is something I wrote quite a while ago. But thing is I never post it on tumblr (it’s on Ao3 tho), but since I wrote a companion piece for this I decided to send them out together. I’ll figure how to link the two, but until then they have the common tag ‘Days of Chaos’, since that’s the name of the series that these shots belong to. So if you’re looking for these shots, just search that tag in this blog’s search.

The Days Of Chaos are mainly centred around Quirkless!Izuku and his friendship with Mei and Shinsou. There aren’t any romantic elements in this yet, but as I keep on writing I might add them. After all, I did start these with Shindeku in mind.

Anyways! This is the first part, so I hope you enjoy!

Edit: Yooooooo I figured it out! Second part is here!

-

It's by pure chance that when the alarm rings out, Izuku is looking out the window.

"Alert! Alert! There has been a Level 5-"

But Izuku's not really listening, because at that exact moment, he sees a group of people startle into view. What that means is, one moment there was nothing, and then suddenly four people appeared out of thin air. The one walking in the middle, a pale looking man with straight black hair who has a hand touching two others and a fourth person gripping his elbow, looks up in panic as the school wide alarm starts blaring. His friend behind him shoves him roughly, and the man shakes his head, before they all disappear into thin air once again.

'A warping quirk? No... there's a shimmer in the air where the group had been standing, almost like a mirage. So maybe... maybe they're still there, just that I can't see them...'

And it's at that point that the blaring announcement finally registers in Izuku's brain, "-repeat, there has been a Level 5 security breach! All students are requested to reach their classrooms immediately!'

Which means that the group was probably villains.

Izuku's classmates mill about the classroom, talking to each other excitedly as they try to figure out what's going on. Multiple voices, all loud and outgoing, catch at the edge of Izuku's brain, but the words being said enter from one ear and slip right out the other as Izuku scrambles out of his seat. His classroom makes up one corner of the school building’s third floor, which means they have windows all along the side and back of the classroom. With the direction they had been walking in, there’s a chance that Izuku can catch sight of them from the back windows if they accidentally drop whatever quirk that is keeping them hidden again.

Izuku quickly opens the windows and leans out, looking to see if he can see the air shimmer around the corner. He can't, but then something else catches his attention, and he looks in the other direction to see someone walking with a humongous wooden box that seems to be filled with odd bit of machinery. On a closer look, he realizes that it's a girl, with cross-haired eyes and manic pink dreadlocks. She walks with a bounce in her step, and the box in her arms jingles happily with each step.

She's headed straight in the villain's direction.

For a moment, he considers calling out to her, but then reconsiders quickly, because he may be able to warn her, but the villains will hear him too.

Fuck.

During this time, a teacher had already entered the classroom and is trying to get the kids to settle down, so that she can properly explain the situation. Izuku barely registers this as he runs past her, citing some excuse about going to the bathroom, and books it.

-

Hitoshi had conveniently just finished his business in the washroom, when the alarms rang out. He stood stalk still in front of the sinks, hands still under a spray of water as the P.A system informs him that there's been a Level 5 breach in the school, and that he needs to get back to his classroom, immediately. He quickly dries his hands and exits the washroom to do just that, when a green blur shoots past him. He watches a boy skid around the corner, and in that split-second catches sight of his face and realizes that it's a classmate of his. He hasn't really talked to the boy, but from what he remembers, he's pretty sure the boy is just as antisocial as him, albeit probably for different reasons, if his constant nervous fidgeting was anything to go by.

For a moment he wonders what could be so urgent that the boy risked crashing face first into a wall.

As he's about to continue his journey back, he hears an urgent voice coming from his classroom's hallway. Hitoshi inches closer and comes to carefully stands just around the corner, until the voice is clear enough to listen to, "-need someone to look over class 1-C because a kid just took off with a shady as fuck excuse and I am not getting in trouble with the principal for this Sora. You'd think kids at a hero school would be better at following safety protocols but no, and now I gotta hunt this kid down before the principal has my head-"

It takes all of five seconds for Hitoshi to make his decision, before he's running after the kid.

-

Izuku jumps down the stairs five at a time, sure he's going to trip and fall any second now but somehow managing to stay upright. He reaches the first floor and runs towards a separate staircase he knows is closer to where he saw the girl. He runs across an empty classroom but skids to a stop a few meters away and backtracks, because this classroom is the one one floor below his own, but more importantly, it'll give him the perfect vantage point to look and see if the villains have spotted the girl yet.

And to his dismay, they have.

"-must be one of the support brats. Listen girly, just pretend you never saw us, alright? We're hopefully not here to cause trouble."

"Oh but according to the school alarms I think you are!" The girl speaks cheerfully as the metal bits in her box jingle again, "What are you guys even here for at the main building? I thought the attack was at the U.S.J?"

A villain with spiky purple hair snorts, "As if we'd tell you. Sorry kiddo, but villains don't monologue in real life."

The girl just shrugs in faux disappointment, "Ah well, that's a shame. But hey, who cares what you're here for when you're gonna get caught anyways?"

'She's stalling' Izuku realizes with a little bit of awe, 'The security cameras have probably already seen these guys, and she knows that the heroes are going to get here soon.'

"What are you doing?"

Izuku shrieks and jumps a foot in the air from being startled. He quickly backs away from the window, which means that when the villains' heads snap up they don't see anything out of the ordinary.

The boy who snuck up on him, one that he recognizes from his class, stands back and let's Izuku catch his breath.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Izuku whisper shouts at the boy.

The boy shrugs, "Thought you'd heard me come in."

"What was that?!" The furious shout catches both their attentions, and they exchange a weary glance before creeping back up to the window. It's the guy with purple spikes who shouted this, and looking at the thin metal spikes covering his fist, Izuku realizes he must have activated his quirk. The pale looking guy, who Izuku suspects has the invisibility quirk that got the group this far, stays close to his teammates, hand hovering in the air and ready to touch them and activate his quirk. One woman with neon green flames for hair fiddles with the lighter in her hand, eyes frantically flickering around. Their last party member is hunched over the back-cafeteria door, and it looks like she's trying to get them in with the way she has her hand pressed against the computer pad. (Unbeknownst to everybody, this poor woman is literally trying to hack past the principal of U.A and she is, of course, failing miserably).

'Probably an electricity quirk of some sort, something that'll help her get past the computer pad but it clearly takes away her situational surroundings...'

"I said what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know!" The girl snaps back, much to the purple-spikes' guy's surprise. "I told you that the pros were coming, so are you really that surprised?"

The guy growls, "You..."

Izuku frantically pulls his classmate back from the window, "We need a plan."

"A- what? A plan?"

"Yes." Izuku hisses, "I don't think that girl actually knows how much time it'll take for the pros to get here, and anything can happen between then. We need to help her stall."

"We can't just step in! Those are villains, we could get hurt!" The guy argues back.

"And if we don't do something, she'll get hurt anyways. Come on, if you hadn't scared me, they wouldn't have been agitated in the first place."

His classmate clenches his jaw. Finally, he says, "Fine. What are we going to do?" 

 "-You don't know what you're fucking talking about-"

"Your gear is horrible! Haven't you ever met a decent illegal broker before, dumbass?!" 

 Izuku stares up at his classmate. "What's your quirk?"

The boy in front of him hisses, "What does my quirk have to do with-" 

 "Oi oi, fuck you! You haven't even spent a week in the support course, what the fuck do you know girly?!"

"A lot more that you apparently-" 

 "Your quirk, what is it?"

The boy seems to finally be giving into the pressure as the arguing from down below starts getting louder and more heated, "Brainwashing. I can put someone under my control if they verbally respond to a question."

Izuku nods slowly, "I can work with that."

-

Mei is getting ready to just about throw down the metaphorical gauntlet with how stupid this villain in front of her is, when all of a sudden, they hear a new voice join the fray.

"Ah, yes, Present-Mic sensei? Yeah, I'm- no- I'm actually near the cafeteria back door right now."

Mei and the three idiots in front of her quiet down as a boy with purple hair and eyebags so deep they make Mei want to take a nap comes around the corner with a phone pressed against his ear. He doesn't notice them yet, not immediately, and just continues talking on the phone. "Yes, I know I should be in my classroom, but it's not like I'm out here on purpose. Ah- yes- sorry sensei, it won't happen again."

And then he looks up. He stops abruptly, staring at the odd view Mei and the villains make, with the chick who was trying to get into the school still stuck at the computer pad (it's like she can't hear their commotion at all honestly, and Mei is starting to think it has something to do with her quirk). Its kinda pathetic, how long this woman has been trying and failing to unlock a simple back door, and Mei's half tempted to march up there and unlock it for a her.

The boy stares at them for a moment, before he says, "I-" he cuts himself off to lower the phone from his ear, "Are you guys villains?"

And the Pale Guy with the invisible quirk must be feeling extra dumb today because he says, "Yeah. Yeah we are." He immediately gets a swat on the arm from Fire Lady for that, but it's already too late, because the boy is back to talking to his phone. "Yupp. Villains. Back cafeteria door." There's a pause, before the boy says, "Alright, see you soon Present Mic."

And then he cuts the call.

"So... you guys come here often?"

And Fire Lady loses it, "That's it!" With the stress of getting caught already by two people and the irrefutable knowledge that backup was soon on its way to arrest them, Mei doesn't blame her.

The Pale Guy has other plans though, with how he reaches out towards Fire Lady, "No, wait-"

Surprisingly, Fire Lady stops, but they soon find out it's not because of Pale Guy. The kid with eyebags sighs tiredly, "Just one? Why? Alright then, knock out your teammate with the spikes for me, will you?"

Fire lady turns, a blank look in her eyes, and Spikes Guy takes a step back, "Wha- Haruhi?"

It's like Fire lady can't hear him, when she reaches for her hair and managed to pull a ball of fire away from it, which she subsequently chucks at Spikes. He scrambles back to avoid getting hit, and the game is on. Pale Guy reaches for the chick still trying to work the door and yanks her away from it, and it looks like she's just coming back online when she blinks and looks around confused, "What the fuck is going on?"

Pale Guy has already grabbed her forearm, and is trying to pull her away from the fight between Fire Lady and Spikes. "Come on! We gotta run!"

"On no you don't!"

And then a chair comes sailing through the air, and nails the poor man straight on the nose. Three sets of eyes turn to where the chair came from, Fire Lady and Spikes too busy playing a flammable version of tag and Pale Guy crumpled on the floor with two hands over his poor nose, to see a kid leaning out from one of the classroom windows, breathing heavily from where he just threw a piece of furniture at them. He scrambles away immediately, probably going to get another projectile, when Miss I'm-going-to-break-into-U.A-and-I'm-going-to-succeed-because-I-have-an-electricity-quirk hisses, "You fucking kids. I'll show you-"

She bends down and goes to press her hands flat on the ground, but Mei thinks quickly and fishes out the biggest piece of cobbled together metal and wires she can find in her box, and throws. Instead of hitting Electricity Girl though, it just painfully clips her shoulder and makes her stumble back, before conking Pale Guy straight on the head. It's about all the trauma his head can take and he passes out.

The Electricity Chick scowls at them, "You're dead." She slams her hands down, and another chair comes flying, but this time closer to Eyebags and Mei, and Chair kid shouts, "Jump on!"

And Mei has worked with electronics and people with electrical quirks enough times to somewhat know what's going happen already, because a surge of electricity comes cackling towards them along the ground. Mei jumps, hoping to land on the seat, but at the same time, Eyebags jumps over the back support, and they end up toppling into each other. It works out though, even if they do land in a heap on the ground, because Electricity Girl gets knocked out soon by, guess what?

A chair.

Mei and Eyebags look over to where Spikes is laying flat on the ground, a large bruise forming on his temple, as Fire Lady stands silently besides him.

Mei makes no move to get up from where she's sprawled across Eyebags' legs. "Well. That could have gone worse."

Chair kid gives her a thumbs up, before sinking out of view.

-

They're scolded, of course, almost gloriously so. (Mei finds out that Shinsou's whole call with 'Present Mic' was actually fake, since one; Shinsou doesn't even have his number and two: Present Mic was actually all the way at the U.S.J. All in all, it was a pretty ballsey move, but it did it's job of further scaring the villains). Even if they did manage to get those villains in the end, they shouldn't have been outside their classroom in the first place, and to avoid dangerous scenarios exactly like this, too. Chair kid, who Mei learns is named Izuku Midoriya, tries to defend himself by saying that he panicked when he caught sight of the villains heading in Mei's direction, but the teacher reprimanding them simply shakes their head and says he should've just called a teacher instead.

Which... fair.

Eyebags, or Shinsou Hitoshi, doesn't have an excuse at all, just that he got curious and had decided to follow Midoriya.

And Mei? Well, Mei was just the poor victim of a villain attack.

(She's also very disappointed, because she had a half-finished baby in that box that she was sure she could have used. Oh well, maybe next time, when there's no risk of it blowing up.)

"So… you guys are gen-ed?" Asks Mei as they walk to the infirmary room. They don't really have any injuries, except for Shinsou's scraped elbow from when Mei has toppled into him, but they're going to get checked up anyways for everyone's peace of mind.

"Yupp."

"Huh." Mei counts the tiles of the ceiling as she walks, "You two wanna get onto the hero course or something or...?"

Shinsou rubs the back of his neck and sighs harshly while Midoriya just looks blankly down at the floor.

"That would be ideal," Starts Shinsou, "but people aren't all that receptive towards a brainwashing quirk, not to mention, the Sports Festival is tailor made to cater to physical quirks most of the time."

Midoriya nods absently. "Yeah. Besides," he laughs harshly, "It's a fever dream for me, quirkless and all."

Both Shinsou and Mei look at him surprised, "You're quirkless?"

"Yupp."

The three of them are silent for a while, before Mei says, "Still managed to take those villains down though, so does it matter?"

And Midoriya looks up at her, surprised, with something like relief in the small smile he gives her. Shinsou laughs, "She's not wrong. That plan wasn't half bad back there, short-stack."

"I am not short-"

-

After a trip to Recovery Girl's room, the moment they step out, Mei says, "So, I was thinking..."

Shinsou raises an eyebrow at her, "Yeah?"

Mei smiles, all wide and wicked, "If you're really going to try for the hero course, you might want some support gear to boost that quirk of yours! It's not bad in itself, just that you're at a disadvantage if you can't use it before you get punched in the face."

Shinsou sullenly stuffs his hands into his pockets and scowls, "I know that-"

Midoriya cuts in before he can get very far with that though, "What are you saying Hatsume-chan?"

Mei gives them both a thumbs up, "Since you two helped me out today, I don't mind working on a bit of gear for you! I gotta make stuff for the Sports Festival anyways, but my babies will really shine if they're tailored perfectly for someone else and used by them! And you guys get a advantage over the hero kids! So, what do you say?!"

Midoriya looks surprised, "Even for me?"

"Yeah! You're even easier, since I can give you anything I want."

The way she says it sounds slightly ominous, but Shinsou and Midoriya exchange a glance, before Midoriya smiles warmly at her, "I think that sounds wonderful."

(And that was the day their friendship started, on the day of the Projectile Chairs.)

(Honestly though, with how long Shinsou and Midoriya pine after one another, Mei herself had started to consider throwing a chair at the two oblivious idiots.)

[gabriel4sam]

Reluctant wedding bells, a Obi-Wan/Satine story

When Duchesse Satine learned that the Senate would force the Jedi to marry, she immediatly sent a proposal for General Kenobi's hand, fearing every world would try to snatch him. Asking Obi-Wan before would have been a nice idea, perhaps... Now, two people who thought they would only have their duty until the end of their lives must learn to navigate married life. And that's without the proud Mandalorian tradition to try to murder their leader!

The story under the cut . 

It was with swearing that Obi-Wan learned of his nuptials to be. Swearing so colourful, so original, that Anakin covered Ahsoka’s head with his hands, protesting:

“Master!”

“That’s not where my ear canals start, Master,” Ahsoka informed him helpfully.

“No, really?” Anakin asked, distracted for a second.

“Also, when I will be fully formed, the part of the montrals where you have your hands will become an erogenous zone.” Anakin took his hands back with a horrified squeak and Ahsoka giggled.

“Snips! Is this…are you pranking me? Please tell me you’re pranking me.”

“Really, Anakin, do you need to go back to interspecies sensitivity training?” Obi-Wan quipped and Anakin suddenly remembered how it had started.

“Don’t swear around my Padawan!”

“Your Padawan have been on battlefield. And in the Senate. I’m sure she had heard worst.”

“Master!”

“But I will make an effort to express myself with the proper decorum of a Jedi Master.”

With a sigh, he seated down heavily next to Anakin. His former Padawan nudged him with his shoulder.

“Would it be so horrible? To be married with Satine? You are very close. And as the Jedi expert on marriage –“

“Because you’re the only married Jedi. Because you wed in secret against the old rules without even inviting your poor Master.” Obi-Wan snapped in answer.

“- yes, that, well, I’m still the only married Jedi you know. And I can affirm married life is awesome. Especially since you won’t have to hide and lie like Padme and I had in our first years.”

“Once again, because you wed in secrets breaking your vows and didn’t even tell me!”

“Do I sense a little rest of animosity about that? Snips, stop giggling right now or you’ll do laps around the Temple with me chasing you with a training saber.”

“It’s been long since you stopped being capable of running faster than me, Master mine.”, the Tortuga answered immediately.

“I get no respect, why, but why, you used to be such a nice Padawan,” Anakin tipped his face up, studying the high ceiling of the room of the Thousand Fountains and the sky outside like it would answer his question.

Obi-Wan grinned, all saccharine sweetness.

“I feel avenged,” he remarked and Ahsoka had another fit of giggle and leaned down over Anakin, offering a high five that Obi-Wan took, with a glee totally unsuitable for a serious and stern Council Member, in Anakin’s opinion.

Peace had been good for them, Anakin thought. For the entire Jedi Order, in fact, and laughs were now a common sound in the Temple. “It’s like dodging a bullet,” Captain Rex had remarked, “you can be angry people shoot at you, or happy they missed. And all of you are happy you’ve not been brutally murdered by brainwashed violations of your slavery laws.”

At that time, there were a few grimaces, but Captain Rex had no intention to relent or to care about other people feelings until his brothers had full sentient rights. Something that shouldn’t be too long: in a week the new Chancellor would be sworn in and he was a smart man, understanding they would all have been doomed without Fives.

The new Chancellor still couldn’t work miracle and he had a choice to make: push for the clones’ right or derail the idiotic laws some dumbass Senators had passed during the chaos after Sidious’ death, a law that called for Jedi’ s marriages, as a way to integrate them better into society.

With a sigh, Anakin let his head against the trunk of the tree behind him, his thoughts running in his head. A moment later, Ahsoka remembered her remedial courses in Galactic history and flew to her classroom in a hurry, with a choice of words that made Anakin cringe.

Against him, he felt Obi-Wan’s warmth and in the Force, he felt the inner peace of this former Master struggling against the news of his impending marriage.

“There are exceptions in that law,” he said to cheer him up.

“Yes, but it would be disrespectful to pretend I’m something I’m not. I’m not going to tell the commission I can’t marry because I’m asexual, or aromantic, or anything in those lines, when it would be a lie. And I hope the Senate will relent a little if a Council member is married. Let the other Jedi have more time…or even let them alone.”

“But you aren’t obligated to be the one taking the fall”, a new voice intervened and Mace Windu came to sit near them.

“Master Windu,” Anakin said with a nod, when the “Mace!” of Obi-Wan was much warmer.

The Korrun Master searched for his words for a moment then he pointed out: “Just because Mandalore offered a…” He seemed lost already and Anakin completed:

“A dowry, like it’s the dark time of bought and paid for brides? Not that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be delightful in white satin.”

“I think I would be much more a lace man,” quipped the red head.

“You two are a menace. But yes. Just because Duchesse Satine seemed determined to not let another planet snatch you, you’re under no obligation to answer it. We have other allies who would offer their hands to a Jedi in some sort of white marriage to protect us from rulers trying to snatch themselves a Jedi as if we are some sort of pet. Let one of us handle it.”

“But,” Obi-Wan observed, red rising on his face, “ Satine… I love Satine.”

It was the first time Anakin heard him speak the words and it was still a shock. Mace himself didn’t seem surprised and only touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder in support.

“I know. But wouldn’t it better if you were to wed, to go to that point on your own? To not be strong-armed into it. I fear what it would do to your relationship.”

It was a good thing Anakin was already seated, he would have fallen on his butt listening to Master Windu. Not for the first time, he asked himself how much the Sith had tainted his vision of the other Jedi.

Obi-Wan smiled, and even in this circumstances, there was real happiness in his eyes.

“I will contact Mandalore myself to accept. I will become Satine’s husband.”

 *****

Obi-Wan had meet a lot of officials in his life, so much that they had a tendency to blur into each other. He was still pretty sure he would have remembered the obnoxious Umbaran, an envoy from the Republic Senate, which was currently having an aneurysm at the idea that the wedding of the first Jedi could be something other than a lavish affair, complete with ambassadors from three thousand words, fireworks and more protocols than a coronation.

On the other side of the table, Satine smiled to him. They hadn’t succeed in meeting without half her court since the two days Obi-Wan had arrived and conversation in public were stilled and awkward, empty of their usual banter. It was more difficult that he thought and his meditations had become a struggle, only helped by Mace’s presence, the older Master playing the role of a calming anchor in their joined meditation. Something Anakin, dear Anakin, could never do, no matter his desire to help. Meditating with him was like trying to swim in a flooding river.

Obi-Wan touched his beard to hide his smile, the Umbaran’s words more a background than anything. He was blessed, he thought. Blessed by friendship. So many Jedi had been lost and he had grieved for friends, but he still had Mace, who was playing statue on his right, the perfect picture of a Jedi Master, and Anakin, who wasn’t even trying to muffle his yawns on his left and had insisted to come, even if Luke and Leia were only two months old.

Whatever would happen, his friends would stand with him.

He had the Force and his friends…and soon, soon, perhaps Satine? He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. If he could only have two minutes alone with her, a real discussion…

Satine suddenly stood.

“This is ridiculous. Ambassador Deechi,- and Obi-Wan wanted to face palm because of course that was the Umbaran name, he had met him a few times already and once Ahsoka had earned herself lapses around the Temple by falling asleep during a meeting with him- “Ambassador Deechi, Master Kenobi and I will be married at the new moon-”

“In two weeks, really, your Majesty…”

“-And if the ceremony is not ready to the Republic’ specifications, I will kidnap him and marry him with Mandalore’s old laws, in the mountains, with only my sister and a wise man, as it was done in the time.”

The sister in question, who had seemed as bored as Anakin, punched the air with a cry of triumph. The officials, Mandalore and Republic alike, had paled, and were still spluttering when Satine walked around the table and offered her hand to Obi-Wan who raised from his chair to take it obediently.

The fire in this woman….He was smiling like an idiot, he was sure of it.

“Come,” she said and he followed unquestioningly, his hand in hers.

Bo-Katan Kryze turned to the Republic officials and smiled, with too much teeth for her specie.

“So, with the happy couple out of the way, if we talked about details? Like money?”

More spluttering from the officials but she found an unlikely ally in the quiet strength of Master Windu.

“After all, it would be against all civilized behaviour to exile Master Kenobi here, far away from his way of life. A Jedi contingent would be logical and since the Senate quite insisted about Jedi marrying, it wouldn’t be fair if Mandalore payed for said contingent.” He explained.

Mace Windu wasn’t the sort of man who took pleasure in making people pay for his frustration and anger, even in something as temporary as money. But the Jedi were his to protect and the Senators would have happily thrown them to the Rancors. And Obi-Wan had learned more about the diplomatic game from him than from Qui-Gon. The dear man had been has discreet as a Bantha in a state dinner, trampling around on people’s pride in the name of the will of the Force. Mace was much more discreet in negotiations than poor Jinn had ever been. And much more lethal.

“Her excellency Kryze is well within her rights,” he continued, very matter of facts.

“Oh please,” smiled Satine’ sister, “call me Bo-Katan.”

And together, they extracted every cent they could from the Republic, Anakin watching and cheering them on.

During that time, Satine had taken Obi-Wan into her apartment, deep into the palace, into her quiet rooms arranged around a small garden.

“Satine?”

“I wanted you to see them. I…You need to decide if you want to share them with me.”

“Aren’t married people traditionally living together?”

She touched his cheek and he closed his eyes in the caress.

“When I heard about the law…the idea that they could ship you to a foreign world like a prize made me so furious…”

“So, you offered for me.”

“I jumped into decision guided by my anger, without asking you. And I never, ever, would force your hand. You’re not a prisoner. If you want to never see me again after, never think I would impose myself.” Her sharp blue eyes were scrutinising him so fiercely that for a second he asked himself which one of them was really into the mind reading business.  

“You could never.”

Feeling bold, he took the small hand on his face, kissed her wrist. Were they not engaged? He shuddered at the idea that old rules didn’t apply anymore and kissed her wrist again, eyes closed too tight. She smelled of some flowers he couldn’t identify.

“Obi-Wan, look at me.”

He obeyed. She was so close, alive and breathing and smelling so good.

“May I kiss you?” she asked, breathless, and he nodded and closed his eyes again when he felt her mouth on his. Something painful, so usual that he didn’t note it anymore, loosened up in his chest. The second their lips touched, a good part of his worries vanished. With Satine, there was nothing he couldn’t face.

It was only the third time they shared a kiss, and it was so different from the first one, a terrified Padawan and the young Duchess he protected, or from the second, a Master Jedi incognito and the Duchess he had rescued from Maul. It stayed chaste and tender but it was enough to make him weak in the knees.

“I will never ask something of you that you don’t want to give”, Satine whispered against his ear and he shuddered again.

“And if I want to give you everything I am?”

“Then, I will treasure it. I can be greedy, my Obi-Wan. I will keep it and treasure it and claim to the entire world that you’re my beloved.”

Obi-Wan felt a shiver along his nerves and something must have passed in his eyes.

“I will be yours and you’ll be mine,” Satine swore and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed and so thankful.

“Kiss me again?” He asked.

Her lips crushed against his again, less chaste this time, with a hunger he didn’t totally understood. She certainly knew what she was doing and it was a relief: that one of them had more to guide them that two kisses years apart and the stories told by Quinlan!

That third kiss was followed by a fourth, and a fifth. He felt desire rise in him and immediately send it in the Force, an old habit, before remembering he could now embraces it. It was almost too much and he broke the kiss and hid his face into Satine’s neck.

“Will you marry me?” She asked and he smiled and whispered his yes.

“Were you serious about marrying me in two weeks, without all that pump?”

“Would you prefer it?”

He made a face.

“I could do without all the politicians trying to earn points by being invited,” and they were so close that he felt her laugh inside his ribcage.

They couldn’t escape the pump, of course, it would have been too nice. He suspected Bo-Katan ran as much interference as she dared, because she liked the idea of her sister stealing herself a Jedi, in the old ways, but at the end, there were politicians and holoreporters and too much people.

He knelt in front of her, dressed in a Jedi uniform in Kryze colours and felt the weight of the circle of gold she placed on his head like an oath. All his friends had come. Dex and Anakin were crying tear of joys and Bant’s colour around her gills was almost ruby, her skin tone reacting to a strong emotion. Padmé was trying to cover her yawns because the Senate was working fourth time more that it had under Palpatine. Quinlan was wearing his most formal attire, something Obi-Wan would have deemed deeply suspicious if the attire hadn’t the highest collar possible and Quinlan a tendency to like lovers who marked him….

It was a nice ceremony. It was something he never knew he would have. He swore to himself he would do his best to become a good Mandalorian’s consort and stood back, taking her hands in his, smiling so hard it almost hurt.

He was her husband.

And then the problems started.

When you marry a ruler of Mandalore, the problem is that with the marital life came a full planet of Mandalorian….

*******

  Bo-Katan had been happier that she could have imagined at her sister wedding, despite the years of bad blood and silence between them. She was quite proud of them, mending their relationship like that, working together to make their planet united again. She was also so proud of Satine, taking her man out of Republic’s hands and making them pay for it, too. She would have preferred an old ceremony, traditional, in the mountain with only as elder as officiant and herself to represent the clan, but perhaps for her own wedding, if she ever found a man wanting to be kidnapped by her from his clan?

The Jedi thing was clearly unfortunate, really couldn’t Satine have chosen someone a little less controversial with the Jedi-Mandalore history, but nobody was perfect. Most of the Jedi contingent which had accompanied him seemed bearable. She could come to like Kenobi, if he made Satine happy. She had been less convinced at the beginning by the addition of the clones of Jango Fett, but it was evident that even heavy artillery wouldn’t separate them from their former General.

She was whistling when she went around the corner in the familial wing of the palace, ready for bed, already in a nightshirt after a moment in the private sauna….and found a fully armoured Mandalorian wearing gold for revenge, kneeling on a ventilation shaft exit. There were only dark possibilities for that being presence there, and most of them was of the murder of Satine and/or her brand new consort sort. Yelling the Clan Kryze traditional war cry, which hadn’t been used in the palace since some good fifty years, Bo-Katan charged.

She was of the punch first, ask question later Kryze-model, like Korkie father and a long list of ancestors had been and what followed was an epic brawl. She regretted she hadn’t worn her jet pack and full weapon set to bed. The small knife strapped on her tight was clearly not enough as a Beskar'gam opener, even if she cut a tendon successfully, just at the knee, where one of the weaknesses of this type of Beskar'gam was.

A machete. If she survived that one, she would go to bed with a machete strapped to her tight and a blaster under her pillow!

Despite her disadvantage, she was winning, when in a desperate move, the other started his jetpack and thrown the two of them through a window.

That was it. She was dead. That Jedi better protect Satine and Korkie or she would haunt his Coruscanti ass. She closed her eyes against the vision of the ground coming …and opened them a few seconds later because it took too long.

Apparently, because she was floating.

Floating in direction of another window, a little to the right, which opened like it was holocommanded.

She touched the carpet and almost fall down, her knees weak, but strong arms helped her. Strong arms dressed in Jedi tunics.

Come on, a death protecting her sister, even in her nightshirt, would have been better than being saved by one of those…

“Are you alright, your Excellency? Can you stand?”

There was more real preoccupation in the words that she would have thought, and the voice was female. She looked up and her saviour was a Moon Calamari with enormous black eyes and a tattoo around one eye socket, which she was sure had been clone-designed.

Even if the Jedi was keeping Bo-Katan standing up with a strong arm around her, her other hand was extended in direction of the open window, where the would-be assassin was still suspended, too far away to grab anything, head down, trashing like a fish on a hook against the strength of the Force gripping him.

“What’s your name?” Bo-Katan asked, without moving from the Mon Calamari’s arms. The other was smelling salty and was running colder than Bo-Katan, but even then, the red head felt like she had burrowed under a warm blanket and for a second, she asked herself if the other was using the Force to comfort her after that near death experience.

“Bant Eerin, your Excellency.”

“Bant, you definitely should use my first name.”

*****

To the new lovers, intimacy had come naturally. Obi-Wan had been raised in a chaste culture but Jedi took to chastity like a way of life, not like a moral judgement. Once he knew he could look, touch, share… And with Satine? The woman he loved guiding him, he had taken to physical love in her arms like he had been clay shaped to be the perfect lover for her.

They had waited decades for that, in a way, and at the beginning, it was difficult to let go of each other.

Mandalore was too unstable for them to take a honeymoon, but Bo-Katan and the officials were supposed to take care of the planet for them for five days and they had every intention to use those five days.

So, when Satine woke up from their latest session of love making and let her gaze embrace the room, she didn’t immediately realized what had woken her up. The moon was high and letting see every details but she was pretty sure she hadn’t slept more than one hour, so why was she awake? She looked at her bedside. Her holocom was an angry red, a muffled sound coming of it. She looked at her message, then immediately woke up Obi-Wan.

“Someone tried to murder my sister,” she explained, “help me”. With awkward fingers he zipped her, tied, and buttoned, struggling against meters of taffetas and so small ties that he cheated and used the Force, his fingers too big.

“Do you really need all of that stuff?”

“She’s alive and will stay that way if she knows what is good for her. I can’t take the time to dress. I can’t appear weak, and running to her bedside without all that stuff, as you said, that would appear weakness. But I can’t appear too long after, or her own position would be weakened. I never should have given the week to all my handmaidens…Tighter, darling.”

“Tighter and you won’t breath!”

“No, but I will stand straight and proud. Not every Beskar'gam are metal, cyare.”

 *******

There was a delightful small garden, deep in the palace, which had been the late Duchesse, the mother of Satine and Bo-Katan, personal domain. Here, she had escaped the dangers of the court and most of his intrigue, which she hadn’t been really built to endure. The two sisters more precious memories of their parents and their dead brother, Korkie’s father, took place in that garden.

It had been destroyed during the civil war but when it had been possible to use credits for something other than urgent matters, Satine had it remade. That had been the first renovation work in her familial wing.

Not her apartments, not the throne room, not the gallery of old Kryze portraits and holos, that frankly she found creepy, but this garden.

And now, it was only used for family and very close friends. A place without the cutthroat politics of the palace, without the constant need for Satine to watch her tone, her words, her posture.

Satine was half sitting, half reclining in a deep ottoman, Obi-Wan sitting on the floor on a thrown pillow, his feet in the small fish pond. To her great pleasure, he had immediately loved this place and they were already in the habits to come here when they had a little free time.

Obi-Wan was leaning against his wife’s legs and had such an expression of peace on his face, he probably would have purred if he had been physiologically capable of it. He was wearing some tunics in the Jedi’s traditions, but he wore them in Kryze colours, and she loved how he marked himself as hers in this small way. They were still exploring, slowly, the wonders of their newly found intimacy. Satine was finding in herself more joy that she could have believe possible in this exploration. She loved how Obi-Wan slowly unfurled under her guidance. He had come to her curious and a little cautious, deeply unaware of the reality of a relationship.

And she had been, so, so careful, realizing more than him how he could have been hurt in his naivety, how she could have taken from him pieces he didn’t even realize he was losing before it was too late.

The reward of their relationship growing stronger every day had a sweetness that made her heart sing. Every day it deepened, brought them closer and closer. There were so many things to explore together and she wasn’t thinking of sexuality, even, if yes, that would be fun too, to offer to Obi-Wan the multiple nuances of human sexuality and to explore them with him.

They would be so happy, she was sure of it, like they couldn’t have been if he had renounced being a Jedi for her. They would be so happy, like they already were, but every day a little more.

She put down her datapad. Right now, her mind was busier with the wonders of her dear husband than it was with their social life. They needed to choose between the celebrations on Coruscant of the latest Chancellor’s elections, or the second Jedi wedding celebrated since the war, which would happen on Saleucami between a clone Commander and his Jedi. She was sure Obi-Wan would prefer the wedding and if the former would have been more politically smart, making Obi-Wan happy ranked higher than scoring political point.

Like he had heard her thoughts, Obi-Wan turned to her, kissing the hand that had been playing with his hair. Adoration was making his eyes shine. She leaned down for a kiss and perhaps she would have initiated more, cajoled him into going into their bedroom, if not for a noise on the other side of the garden.

The Darksaber had always held a special place in Mandalorian history. It had go from families to families, a symbol of power and duty. In some periods of history, it had also been seen as cursed. The Jedi who had meet their demise by it, less numerous than Mandalorian pretended of course, because trying to kill a skilled Force user with a proximity weapon was a terrible idea, those Jedi were supposed to jinx the saber and those who bear it.

It had been almost six generations since a Kryze had possessed it and Bo-Katan had taken to it with great pleasure and the over eagerness of a murderous Aak puppy.

Nevertheless, even if the Dark Saber had been possessed by the Kryze before in his history, it was certainly the first time it was used that way. To teach a Mandalorian lightsaber combat techniques.  

Bo-Katan lost her footing and she would have fallen into a bush, if Master Windu hadn’t caught her with the Force, and with half a smirk. Her opponent today was Anakin and he was without mercy in training. Around them in circle, Mace, Ahsoka, Bant, Quinlan, Aayla and Siri were commenting and offering advices. Siri was leaning on a crutch, she was just coming back from a hard mission, but the rest of them seemed more rested that they had been in years.

“For a woman who profess to despite Jedi, your sister likes to collect them,” Obi-Wan remarked to his wife, “ and I’m pretty sure your security officers will soon resign if she doesn’t stop asking the Jedi for help in testing their security measures.”

Satine had a smirk and she drawn in his head against her legs again. He had come to bed late all week, negotiating with some exiled Mandalorian structure, one of many, to reinstate them in Mandalorian society. He was a fine negotiator, he was after all THE Negotiator, but Mandalorian had hard skulls and he was pretty tired.

“Bo likes dangerous people,” Satine admitted, starting again to pet his hair,“I think it was only a question of time.”

On the other side of the garden, Bo-Katan had asked for a respite and was drinking some energy drink, as Bant fussed over some minor graze the red head had received.

Satine put her head against the back of the ottoman and closed her eyes, savouring the last rays of the sun on her face. Tonight, there was another dinner with too much small talks and too many people she despised. Tomorrow, there would be politics, internal to Mandalore and also on the galaxy scale, there would be the problems of the latest extremists and their refusal to join Mandalore again unless it burned on their terms, but in that moment, with Obi-Wan safe and happy against her, and Bo-Katan with her again, as happy as she could be, Satine could savour peace.

  A few months after Satine and Obi-Wan had tied their lives together, a bomb went off in their apartments in the middle of the night.

The bombers were good bomb makers, but terrible gossips readers. When the Duchesse’s rooms were gutted by an explosion, said Duchess and her husband were on Coruscant for the wedding of Master Ima-Gun Di and Captain Keeli, a fact that had been announced on every tabloid on Mandalore. In fact, the exact minute the bomb went off, they were cheering with the rest of the assistance as the happy couple kissed for the first time as married couple.

There wasn’t any loss to deplore and the couple found the message when they came back to their rooms in the Mandalore embassy late in the night, and immediately contacted Bo-Katan.

“Don’t change your plan,” the young woman advised, “I’m more than enough to handle that and you rushing back here would be read as you not trusting me enough to kick their asses.”

“Please, don’t maim anybody,” Satine asked, then seeing her sister’s expression, she corrected “please, don’t maim anybody too much.”

“Do you think we should still go back?” Satine asked her husband after, while he was busy with her corset. He had developed quite a talent with her complicated clothes, he would do a good handmaiden. And if sometimes, she loved to see him in said corset, it was between them.

“Let’s take a decision tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said. He kissed the newly unveiled skin of her shoulder, before adding:  “We’re tipsy and tired, it’s not the best moment for that. And Bo-Katan isn’t alone, the Jedi contingent on Mandalore will offer its help in her search of the guilty party. And…well, they will stop them if she try to execute people in a moment of anger. Perhaps there is even some she likes enough to listen to them.”

“She respects Knight Eerin,” Satine admitted.  

“Is that was the kids call it now? Respect? Because I’m pretty sure we used another word when I was a Padawan and you the newly crowned Duchess. I hope your sister is serious. Bant is a serial monogamist.”

Without answering, she turned in his arms, “Enough talk about Mandalore for tonight. Do you know it’s traditional to have sex on a wedding night?”

“It’s not even our weeding night,” Obi-Wan remarked, amused.

“Will you let that stop us?”

“Certainly not.”

When Obi-Wan and his beloved wife were on Ryloth for the weeding of Knight Secura and Commander Bly, Bo-Katan cracked open like a nut a small cell of nostalgic Mandalorians who thought Satine had nothing to do on her throne since she hadn’t killed anyone for it. Fortunately, Anakin was with her to stop the arrests of becoming illegal, which they would have become if she had bashed them on the heads enough to make them spit the names of their sponsor, as was her first idea.

“You shouldn’t do that to me,” he had half-whined to the red head after, “I can’t be the voice of reason, it’s too much pressure!”

Despite his words, he followed her everywhere in her long search. His former Master had never been happier, the shadows in his eyes had never been lighter, and if Bo-Katan needed to play nice for Satine to be happy and safe, then she would play nice, even if Anakin had to follow her everywhere like an overgrown, well-armed puppy.

It had brought about a slight problem between him and Padmé, who couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give that job to a Mandalorian officer, or to another Jedi.

How couldn’t she understand that Obi-Wan’s happiness couldn’t be in the hands of just anybody?

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be in the hands of the Duchess,” Ahsoka remarked when they talked about it, “Or best, in the hands of Master Kenobi. Because he’s, you know, an adult and even an adultier adult than anybody else we know. Except perhaps Master Windu.”

“Adultier adult?” Anakin had asked, an eyebrow arched, “Should I send you into remedial grammar class, and she had stuck out her tongue, in a childish moment that he saw less and less frequently in her. His heart had squeezed painfully in his chest. His Padawan wasn’t anymore the young Tortuga of their beginning. She was an adult. Soon, very soon, she would be a Knight.

An awesome, awesome Knight, but it seemed to Anakin that Yoda had send her to him only days ago, and now she almost towered above Obi-Wan.

Surprising her, he kissed her brows in a paternal gesture.

“Master?”

“If anybody try to throw that stupid marriage law at you against your will after your Knighthood, we’ll run away together and become pirates,” he simply answered.

“Padmé wouldn’t like it.”

“Sad but true. Doubly sad, because she would make an awesome pirate Queen.”

Bo-Katan and Anakin were on the same opinion about one fact: the ducal couple was safer away from the planet. They insisted, very logically thank you even if later Obi-Wan would pretend they had whined, for them to continue their trip, since it’s was wedding season in the Jedi Order, and to let Anakin and Bo-Katan handle everything else.

Since Obi-Wan didn’t seem convinced, Anakin used his last card and swore he would ask for Cody’s help. The Clone Commander had refused prestigious postings to follow Obi-Wan to Mandalore and was now a member of the Ducal guard, it wouldn’t be complicated to bring him into the investigation, it would even be logical. Of course, it was also a little like offering to bring a baby-sitter with them, but he wasn’t above the slight embarrassment of it, if it kept Obi-Wan safe!

So, Cody, Anakin and Bo-Katan investigated, and Satine and her husband went from wedding to wedding, from worlds to worlds.

Some of those weddings happened between clones and Jedi, most of the time on the worlds of their first missions together, something Satine found half romantic and half creepy, since a lot of those first meetings had included explosions, battle droids and a body count. Some of those weddings happened between officials and Jedi, some in the Senate, some meet in missions, all of them people who had meet the Jedi before that infamous law, and who had saw them leave for another assignment with sadness in their hears. Now, they had a second chance and Satine was happy to see Obi-Wan’s face at every of those weddings. His quiet joy at seeing his friends and brethren found, if not the love the two of them had, but strong, good pairings, full of respect and trust. He even cried a little, when Mace Windu married Bail and Breha Organa.

They let all those celebrations of love lure them into a dangerous sentiment of safety. It was quite a shock when a Rhodian tried to stab Satine, during the ceremony of Garen Muln’s wedding.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan snarled, his knee on the back of the would-be assassin, his lightsaber, turned off, just pressing against the Rhodian’s neck as a very successful warning to stay down, “We’re going back to Mandalore. I’m going to handle those factions myself.”

     In most people’s minds, dangerous beings are supposed to dress in black and lurk in the shadows. An exotic name/past/dead lover whose soul need revenge and / or an interesting scar help.

Obi-Wan Kenobi fit none of those criteria. Force Healing and bacta had stopped the multiple wounds of his past to scar. He was happily married, and not mourning a long dead princess/stripper with a heart of god/ childhood sweetheart for who he had sworn to clean up the world, as classical romance holodramas tropes demanded. Obi-Wan was the most common first name on Stewjon for a male human of his generation, and Kenobi the third most common last name of the archipelago in the Northern hemisphere of Stewjon where he had been born. He left the black to Anakin, preferring traditional Jedi colours, or more and more, Kryze colours, all blue and grey. His past wasn’t more exotic than any other Jedi, and for lurking in the shadows, he wasn’t a drama queen like Xanatos, may the Force have misery of his soul, had been.

So, Obi-Wan looked mild mannered most of the time, and exasperated by the world’s attics the rest of it.

He didn’t look dangerous, or perhaps just for people’s pants when he went full flirting in the name of the mission. But not dangerous, could remove limbs at the smallest provocation, dangerous.

Which definitely prove people shouldn’t be judged on their appearance, because Obi-Wan was probably the most dangerous Jedi.

Oh, he wasn’t as powerful as Anakin in sheer puissance. He wasn’t as skilled with a lightsaber as Master Windu. Not as apt to mind manipulation as Master Mundi, or as good in diplomacy as Master Gallia.

But he was good, very good at all those things, and it was because he was powerful and at the same time pretty good with a lightsaber and pretty good with mind tricks and so good in negotiations they gave his name to some new ideas in that field, that he was the most dangerous.

Also, he reached a point, sometimes, when he was out of fuck to give and just broke things in his path until he reached his goal, no matters the collateral damages.

Mace blamed Qui-Gon. The man had been a horrible influence and a young Jedi could only spent so much of his formative years using ruffians’ methods and horrifying protocol officers before bad habits took hold.

This is why Mace wasn’t surprised when, a month after his weeding, he was woken up by his private communicator. Extracting himself from his spouses’ arms was quite a challenge: Bail was quite the octopus in bed, and Breha liked to use his shoulder as a pillow. He was forced to cheat and to use the Force to be sure they continued to sleep. Ruling a planet was a challenge, when you wanted to do it well, and marrying the Master of the Jedi Order had only put more problems on the Organa’s plate: they needed all the sleep they could have.

“Skywalker?” Mace asked, once he was out of the bedroom.

“Oh, I forgot about the difference of hours with the capital of Alderann, sorry Master” Anakin said when he saw he was shirtless. Even in the blue of the holograms, Mace could see him blushing. The younger Jedi had been married for years, what did he expect exactly, Mace sleeping in full Council regalia?

“Now that I’m awake, tell me why you called.”

“I’m so sorry, Master!”

“Anakin!!”

“Hem,yeh, hem, it’s about Obi-Wan, Master.”

“Force, did something happen to him? Why didn’t you start with that?”

“No, no, he’s fine, totally, I mean physically. Not that I think he isn’t fine mentally!?”

“Skywalker! If you don’t start telling me why you called, I’m going back to bed. What happened to Obi-Wan?”

“Nothing happened to him. It’s more that he’s the one happening to people, Master.”

Mace pinched the skin between his eyes. He had a better relationship with Skywalker now, no that the bar was very high before, but that didn’t mean being waken up in the middle of the night by a hysterical Chosen One who didn’t make sense was a pleasant experience. In the Amidala-Skywalker household, the Senator was definitely his favourite.

“Start at the beginning.”

“People are trying to kill the Duchess.”

“Not to sound blasé at the idea of murder, but people have been trying to kill the Duchess for longer that you have been alive. Most of them are dead, and she’s still ruling Mandalore. And probably half the Neutral Systems underhand. And she would rule half the Republic if she didn’t fear it would annoy Obi-Wan. My money is on her.”

“I know, but I think Obi-Wan has reached a tipping point! He crashed a ship on a Death Watch’ stronghold on an abandoned moon. It was evacuated, but you could still see the fire from the other end of the solar system! He cut three arms this week! He made four Judicials officers and the Education Minister cry yesterday! Even Bo-Katan thinks he’s perhaps going a little strong and I spent three months stopping her from decapitating people in public as an interrogation technique! Master, I’m very bad at being the voice of reason, I don’t know how he did it all these years. And the Duchess seems to think it’s all fun and game and he’s in control, only I’m not so sure and if he kills someone accidentally, pretty sure they will get divorced and he will be infinitely sad. Please, come to Mandalore, Master Windu, you’re my only hope!”

  ****

That morning, Obi-Wan woke up way later than he had planned to. He searched, still half asleep for the chrono on the bedside table, because there was way too much light in their bedroom for really be the time before the damn thing was supposed to woke him up, and discovered it had been totally disconnected.

Surprised, he tried to roll over, but couldn’t, because someone had tied his other wrist to the head board with a long silk scarf. His first reflex was to tear the thing down, and only the colour stopped him. It was Satine’s colour, and he was in their bedroom, so the culprit was probably not another Death Watch murderer.

He half-turned and here she was, in a chair in a corner of their bedroom, in that long dress of lace almost totally transparent that had made him cross his eyes the first time he had seen her in it.

“Not very prudent tying down a Jedi during his sleep,” he remarked.

“Even if your sleep, you know I’m not a danger,” she answered and he gave her a little nod. He liked that. That despite his nightmares and the hair trigger and the PTSD, his subconscious would let her tie him down. That even that part of him knew he was hers, that everything she wanted to give her, he would take it, and that everything he was she could take and use, and he wouldn’t fear, because he was hers, hers only, and Satine always took care of what was hers.  

Satine stood up and made her way along the bed, her gaze a pleasant weight on his skin, then the lace dress was abandoned on the floor and she knelt across his legs.

“The Death Watch,” he said, because she was beautiful and he adored her, but the sun was high in the sky, and he needed to go and make sure she was safe:

“It is handled,” the Duchess, “And now, I just want to hear Yes, or Stop.”

The answer was easy and the untied hand of Obi-Wan went to join the other one obediently on the head board.

Satine said it was handled, and too contradict her wasn’t in Obi-Wan’s power, here, in the safety and warmth of their bed. Not when she was there, the light of her eyes burning every dark thought and doubt.

Satine had said it was handled, so he could let go into her arms.

“Yes,” he said, arching up against her and she smiled at him and leaned down, pressing his wrists against the mattress in an order for staying there and everything else disappeared around them.

 *****************

Let’s observe some nameless Death Watch goon. He was middle aged, with beautiful blue eyes, currently covered by his helmet. Good people don’t have the privilege of beautiful eyes, certainly a sad genetic problem in the human species.  He had been a sweet child, a faithful friend, and if his parents had been dead for years, he scrupulously visited his aging grandfather.

With different choices, he could even have been considered a good man. But the current situation was that he had made the wrong choice, and then the wrong one again and again and again. The current situation was that he imagined himself for superior, for horrible reasons that could be resumed to the fact that he considered himself entitled to more than other people, and for less efforts.

Greed was the seed of our nameless Death Watch goon’s fate.

So, as he opened the door of another Death Watch’s stronghold, not to go and do evil, but simply for a supply run, nobody in the galaxy should feel sorry for nameless Death Watch goon, as he suddenly felt against his neck the shining blade of a purple lightsaber.

“I have questions,” the man on the other end of the lightsaber said, “And you will answer them.”

“Death to the Jedi!” the nameless Death Watch goon immediately yelled, activating the self-destruct of his pack. Suicide in case of capture had never really been his plan, but to be known in the Death Watch history as the man taking down Mace Windu himself, such things could be supportable.

Sadly for the Death Watch, but to the Republic’s relief, the charge didn’t explode to kill the Master of the Order, no, the buckles on the goon’s torso opened themselves violently and the suicide bomb threw itself far enough than only a whisper of his power passed on them. Mace Windu hadn’t moved a finger, because apparently fear for their lives was a thing that happened to other people. The goon jumped two feet in the air at the voice behind him.

“Like he said, we have questions,” Anakin Skywalker smiled with too much teeth.

“And some official protestations,” a green Nautolean Jedi said behind the Chosen One.

“We heard you weren’t nice to our brother,” a human Jedi in pilots suits added.

“And since the war is done, we have more time for individual planets problems,” a smaller Moon Calamari Jedi said.

“So, we’ve come to kick your ass,” a Kiffar one finished, and he gave our nameless goon a smile even more terrifying than Skywalker.

  ****

Here they were, again,

In the Temple, in the Room of the Thousand Fountains, just the three of them sitting down at the feet of one of the biggest tree, observing people. But the atmosphere was so different from one year ago, when Obi-Wan had been lost between his love for Satine and his anger at the violence the Senate inflicted on them in forcing Jedi to marry. One year ago, they still had been reeling from the war, still hesitant in their footing in a galaxy where not everyone wanted to kill them. One year ago, Ahsoka was still unsure of her place in the Jedi Order, which she had only joined again when she had understood Palpatine had organized her fall to isolate Anakin a little more. One year ago, Anakin was still angry, lost between the reality of Palpatine’s machinations and years of habits to blame others, especially the Order, for the universe’s problems.

Today, they were in the Temple for a celebration: a little less year after her sister, Bo-Katan was marrying a Jedi too. Somewhere in the Mandalore’s necropolis the two sisters’ fierce-Jedi-hating ancestors, were probably spinning in their graves fast enough to power a small turbine….

Today, there had been no pressure, no hesitation: the law, if not repelled yet, had been buried by the new Chancellor under enough red tapes to protect the Jedi until he could definitely kill it.

No, Bo-Katan had come to the Jedi Temple only for the smile of Bant, because her Moon Calamari lover would live on Mandalore now, and the young Mandalorian had found fair to marry then in Bant’s home.

Today, Obi-Wan was wearing House Kryze’s colours, like he was doing more and more, and slightly tipsy on sparkling wine. His gaze searched regularly Satine, busy cornering a poor politician about the Force only knew what, without shame. And every time, like she knew he was looking, she let her victim a few seconds respite to turn and smile at her husband.

Anakin himself was more than slightly tipsy. Padme had left just after the ceremony for Naboo with their children, where he was supposed to join them the next day, and he had celebrated a little too much the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be a role model in that moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a role model to me too?” A very amused Ahsoka had asked, at the third cup of wine.

“Nah, it’s been long since I had anything left to teach you, Snips.”

Ahsoka raised up from her crouch against the tree. The flowers adorning her montrals had slipped way off their careful arrangement, giving her a strange dishevelled air, even without hair.

“Then why didn’t you present me to trial?” She protested. Between them, Obi-Wan smothered a giggle. He remembered quite well a teenage Anakin, his voice still craking down sometimes from puberty, with exactly the same question, the question outraged Padawan believing themselves ready had asked since the dawn of the Order. Obi-Wan himself hadn’t asked, but Obi-Wan had known he wasn’t ready. Despite what Qui-Gon had told the Council.

“Because then, you would go on missions alone,” Anakin protested, “And you could be hurt.”

“You threw me at a Death Watch Death Squad the other day. Threw me! Like a missile!” She retorted.

“And I knew you would kick their asses. And you did!”

“And you think I would do different if you’re not there to watch? You didn’t help! You just gave points to their efforts to escape me.”

“Well, some of them made a good effort. Even if they failed, efforts should be recognized.”

“It doesn’t-“

It was the laugh that stopped their bickering. A full-bodied, irrepressible laugh. It was simply a laugh, but it was Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan who took his boots off before climbing on an exam table when he had taken a blaster shot to the belly, Obi-Wan who never let more than a small dry laugh escape his lips, because it wouldn’t be proper, or conform to what he believed proper Jedi decorum should be. Obi-Wan was laughing, grinning like a loon, without a care in the world, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Master?” Anakin asked, then he squeaked when the other man pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulders, doing the same to Ahsoka with the other arm.

“Master?” the young Tortuga asked in turn.

“We made it,” Obi-Wan said, his face hidden his Anakin’s hair, “We made it.”

And there was such relief in his words. Anakin’s surprise face eased and he put an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist, another around Ashoka, who did the same. He wasn’t exactly surprised. The Death Watch and the attempts on Satine’s life had simply delay the crisis in Obi-Wan, a crisis Ahsoka herself had cried on Anakin’s shoulder and Anakin in Padmé’s arms, a crisis every other Jedi had to confront a day.

“We did it,” he confirmed, his voice comforting and easy, “We did it and you can let go, Obi-Wan. We’re safe, all of us, now.”

And, hiding their Master between them, Ahsoka and Anakin let him laugh and cry.

In a few minutes, Anakin would go fetch Satine, and she would help Obi-Wan find a path for the rest of his life, but for now.

For now, just the three of them, their lineage, their family, was enough.

[travllingbunny]

The 100 6x12 Adjustment Protocol

Unpopular opinion: I really liked this episode. Especially the first time I watched it (yes, I watch every episode the second time, usually a day later): it is the kind intense, plot-driven, high-tension episode that keeps you on the edge of your seat, exactly as you would expect from the penultimate episode of the season. My favorite episodes this season mostly focused on characters dealing with their demons and their feelings, but this is the part of the season when the plot has to kick into high gear, going into the finale. And this is not a bad thing at all, although it seems that reviewers mostly think it is, while the Twitter fandom is telling me that this episode was actually terrible, for… reasons. Most of which make no sense or are pretty irrelevant.

Although you wouldn’t know that if you just read what most frequent topics of discussion and comments about this episode are, it was the crucial episode plot-wise as the truth about the Primes was revealed to everyone in Sanctum, but thanks to Russell and co. constantly proving they are even more evil than we could have guessed, Sanctum was thrown into chaos, with violence erupting between believers (i.e. the brainwashed) and non-believers; and it also featured the death a main character who had been on the show and a part of since the start. I’m not sure about how I feel about that death and Abby’s arc as a whole. But in this episode, it was done very well – though it may have been predictable (and was kind of spoiled in the episode promo), and the strongest scene of the episode was Clarke learning about her mother’s death, not long after she had revealed to her that she was alive. (And with this, Clarke, Bellamy and Octavia are the only season 1 characters who were billed as mains and who are still alive - since Murphy and Raven were not billed as main characters in season 1).

Eliza Taylor really carried this episode, and a lot of the tension was about watching Clarke under over and worrying if she would be discovered. Not only is Eliza a great actress, playing Clarke, Josephine, Josephine pretending to be Clarke, and Clarke pretending to be Josephine - but Clarke herself turned out to be an amazing actress and plaed Josephine so well she managed to fool Russell – which her life and many others depended on - while, at the same time, going through emotional turmoil and having to hide it.

 I’m not sure about how I feel about Abby’s death in the context of her entire arc. It’s safe to say that it’s certainly not among the most satisfying character arcs on the show. She started off as an idealist fighting against the Ark establishment and one of the few people on the Ark in season 1 who were doing the right thing, but over the following seasons, her role got a bit lost between acting as the supporting character to Clarke (from giving Clarke moral support, to being controlled by ALIE to create drama for Clarke) and being a part of the Kabby relationship – which, to be fair, was one of the best developed (or very few really developed) romances on the show.  But between the two of them, Kane was the one who got the better character development and arc by himself. Abby was the Chancellor for a while, but then gave up that role in season 3, to be fought over by Kane and Pike. She also got other important relationship as a surrogate parent figure to Raven, and, to an extent, Murphy. But in terms of her arc, rather than her impact on others, she only finally got development in late season 4. Mind you, it was negative character development – which is a perfectly valid narrative choice, but one that fandoms usually don’t forgive characters. Because of the things she was forced to do, she lost not just her moral certainty but her faith in herself and, for a while, her will to live, and then her self-loathing turned into a drug addiction that she struggled throughout season 5. In season 6, she tried to recover, but instead developed a new addiction of sorts – her obsession with saving Kane, largely driven by her guilt over the things she did the previous 6 years and for kind of betraying the man she loves and indirectly causing his death, again (something that haunted her since Jake’s death) – which, in turn, led her to making some terrible choices and crossing moral lines. While I thought Kane’s death was perfectly fitting for his character, and that point, it would have been more interesting if the show had tried to have Abby survive and had to really recover and move on, rather than kill her off just a couple of episodes after killing off the ship she was a part of. One may even wonder if she was seen as useless for the show except as a part of the ship. Or, since her remaining main role in the show was as a mother to Clarke and surrogate mother to Raven, so she got killed off for their development/angst/possible bonding in future episodes. Which does make sense as Clarke is the show’s protagonist, and it was easy to guess that the older-Ark-generation characters (Abby, Kane, Jaha) would die once Clarke, Bellamy and Octavia are all adults and mature enough to not need mentors or ‘adult’ mirrors of themselves. Still, it would have been great if the show had given more attention and sympathetic moments to Abby herself in more than just this one episode, especially since the fandom has become determined to hate her – partially because it was convenient to blame her for other character’s actions, partially because fans are judgmental of any middle-aged mother character – especially if she is the mother of the protagonist – who isn’t focused on her children 100% of the time, even if said children are mature adults. But let’s forget about the fandom. It’s not necessary to have characters who suffer from addiction. PTSD or depression recover – Jasper’s arc was about someone who never recovered, but his death was the logical outcome of his arc and felt inevitable. Abby’s death isn’t really about her arc, it’s about Russell deciding to kill and bodysnatch her. Unlike Jaha and Kane, she didn’t get to go out on her own terms.

(I guess you could say that her injecting herself with Nightblood led to it, but Russell could have had her injected with Nigthblood anyway. Or you could say that he did it because he was convinced that she would look for revenge for her daughter’s death, so it was her love for her daughter that doomed her in a way.)

Still, this episode itself covered her death as well as it was possible to do – even if the fact that Abby got to save the life of a child – her granddaughter-by-adoption, find out that her daughter is alive (after having her heart broken in the previous episode, where she was made to believe Clarke was definitely dead), reconcile with and apologize to the two of the closest people to her, Raven and Jackson, and get closure – was a pretty big hint her days were numbered. Her death scene was good, with flashbacks of her happy days with Jake, with Kane, and many memories of Clarke, but the strongest scenes were those of other people reacting to her death, especially Clarke.

Raven has been a side character this season, but she has gotten some subtle character development lately, such as admitting that was way too judgmental with Abby. While she and Clarke didn’t get to talk things through, Raven has been, in a way, redeeming herself and making up to Clarke by making all the efforts to save her daughter and being focused on that more than anything else, just as Clarke is redeeming herself by trying to do the right and moral thing and save as many people as possible.

I’ve been really liking Gabriel more and more, especially in this episode, when he risked everything to stop more innocent people being killed by the Primes. However, what was his plan, exactly? Distract people and then – what – convince Russell to stop being evil? He is a bit like Kane – a guy who did bad things, had a moral awakening, and is now trying to be perfectly moral, but he is more pacifist than Kane was. And he comes off too naïve and sometimes ineffectual: he doesn’t want to kill anyone and allow any lives to be lost, and he can’t even make himself kill Russell – but if he had killed Russell, taken out and smashed his mind drive, he could have prevented many more deaths. 

Speaking of mind drives, it was smart of Clarke to find the instruments and take out Ryker’s chip and keep it to later blackmail Priya with. I just wonder why more people don’t do the same. Surely everyone should be aware that killing Primes is irrelevant, if you don’t destroy the mind drives? They don’t even have to kill the Primes, for that matter, just take out those drives, smash the damn things, and you’ve stopped bodysnatching.                 

So many comments on this episode were about Clarke and Echo’s hug during her reunion with her, Miller and Gaia. Yes, Clarke and Echo are not particularly close – this season, they were on amicable terms, and Echo was one of the people who wasn’t verbally attacking Clarke, but they barely had any interaction and didn’t have any one-on-one talks since that dramatic conversation in 5x12. So, a hug just like the one Clarke had with Miller was maybe a bit odd/surprising But it was also weird when Clarke called Murphy her friend when she found him Polis in 3x07 – even though they had only had terrible interactions up to that point, or when she called Roan her friend or was on great terms with him a couple of days after he almost started a war with Arkadia and threatened Bellamy’s and Kane’s lives to blackmail her into political concessions. Maybe Clarke and Echo were trying to show the “we’re comrades in arms” solidarity, or are trying to be friends because of Bellamy, or Clarke is just happy to see any of the Earthkru and is glad when they hug her as friends, or a combination of all of that. In any case, I almost feel bad for even discussing this, because it’s been so overblown– the fandom seems to talk more about Echo hugging people than about Abby’s death or the chaos in Sanctum

.Another hug that, however, wasn’t surprising at all., was between Bellamy and Echo, but even that turned out to be an issue, because, apparently, a lot of people were shocked and disappointed by the fact that Bellamy cares about Echo and worries about her life, or that Bellamy and Echo were happy to see each other after not knowing if the other was alive. I’m not sure what exactly anyone was expecting? That Bellamy would say “Who are you? I don’t know you, woman!” or act like he doesn’t give a damn? Echo is one of the people he spent 6 years with, has been at least friends for 3 years, and has been dating for a while, so he would have come off as a real asshole if he didn’t care if she were dead or alive. Of course he felt a lot of guilt over leaving her and his other people, because he was focused on saving Clarke. Especially after Josephine called him out on caring for Clarke more than for the rest of them. He already showed guilt over leaving them in 6x11, so it’s mind-boggling that this is what some say is “inconsistent character behavior from episode to episode”. Also, apparently, when Bellamy and Clarke have the most intense hugs with heart eyes and romantic music, it’s just platonic or “baiting”, but Bellamy and Echo’s hug that was no more intense than that between Clarke and Echo, and that looked similar to how Bellamy hugs his sister (even with the same pat on the back!) is a sign that Bellarke is dead and Becho is endgame (?!) ¯¯\_(ヅ)_/¯Even though, again, like so many Becho scenes, it had Clarke in the frame, focused on Clarke and her sad face more than on Echo and Bellamy, and included Clarke interrupting their hug, twice, once asking Bellamy “What took you so long?” Followed by Bellamy looking at Clarke, while Octavia was watching the situation and glancing at all of them. (I see what you’re doing, show. We’ve been there before - except Bellamy and Echo were kissing back then, not just hugginh, and this is the first time Bellamy saw Clarke watching them.)

Is it too soon for the Blake siblings to already be on such good terms that Bellamy is  even gently joking with Octavia? I’m not sure, but Bellamy has shown a great capacity for forgiveness, and he has now seen enough evidence that Octavia has genuinely changed, which is all he needed.

Bellamy, again, got to be the one to give another speech to the masses, helping kindle the flames of the revolution in Sanctum – though it wouldn’t have worked without Priya telling everyone the truth. (Good thinking on Clarke’s part to take Ryker’s chip, and good suggestion on Echo’s part to suggest using it to blackmail Priya.)  

It’s amazing that the Primes were obviously evil from at least 6x04, but we still keep learning just how horrible they are. Russell is an amazing villain because he is so infuriating – a megalomaniac and a hypocrite who genuinely seems to think he is godlike and has the right to murder and exploit others. And then there’s the way he uses language to normalize terrible things, with terms like “adjustment protocol” (translation: make your own people go wild and kill each other, hoping that the religious fanatics will kill the doubters). He is even funny (unintentionally, on his part) with the way he talks, and in this episode he had gems like “I am disappointed in you, Priya. I am disappointed in all of you” and “ A mind drive is a terrible thing to waste”.

I was wondering before if Russell’s actions would turn a lot of the Sanctum residents against the Primes – and they did, but many of them are way too brainwashed, and his solution was to drop the toxin and cause chaos, while the Primes go to the ship to get away until Sanctum is safe for them again. But why are they so sure it will be and that it’s the Prime loyalists who will defeat kill all the rebels, rather than the other way round? If it’s based on previous experience – that was about fanatics vs people who had doubts, but the rebels who hate the Primes are (at least) just as angry as those who worship the Primes.

And Priya got to experience that when Delilah’s mother killed her to avenge her daughter, after getting a confirmation that Delilah was really dead. It was funny that Priya was still hoping to use Delilah’s name to get them to help her, just as she was lying to Jordan a few episodes ago that Delilah was ‘with her’ and happy. I just hope that someone took out and smashed her drive – and Ryker’s drive that she had in her hands, so we wouldn’t have any more resurrections.

The royal guards were the most brainwashed of them all. They heard Russell more or less admit in his conversation with Echo that bodysnatching was murder, knew he was going to do it as a punishment to someone who almost assassinated him, but they kept believing in the crap about being one with the gods? And three of them got the “honor” to be hosts to the Primes: Jade became Jasmine (after having failed to protect Rose, who was meant to be the host for Jasmine), Gavin’s widow became the host for Miranda, and another guard, a bald white dude, became Caleb.  I can’t say I’m sorry for them – they were really “Too Dumb to Live”.  

It was fun to see Murphy and Emori dressed and made up in the Prime fashion (which looks a lot like the fashion of the Capitol from The Hunger Games) and pretending to be two of the Primes who whose mind drives were wiped by Simone – Daniel and Kaylee Lee. And there was a rare comedic moment when they realized they were playing brother and sister. Russell is a massive troll – he could have given them the identities of the parents, Faye and Victor Lee – it’s not like it would have made any difference. 

Clarke is really an amazing actress, to be able to fool even Josephine’s parents into believing she is Josephine, even when she had to hide her feelings about seeing Madi in pain and danger, and when she learned that her mother was dead. That scene was the strongest in 6x12 – even while we knew what would happen, Clarke finding out by seeing Simone in Abby’s body was really painful. That was too much for Clarke, who couldn’t hide her tears. Good thing that Gabriel was there to help by giving her a cover – and she did a great job playing a scene as a lovers’ quarrel and pretending that her pain was about Josephine’s disappointment with the “traitor” Gabriel. (And channeling a real experience from her own life  – as actors often do.) 

I’ve seen comments that Murphy’s actions in this episode were confusing, but it all seemed pretty clear to me. He told Emori and later Raven that he was doing what was good for their friends, too. He thought they were helping them all survive - which was definitely the case as they would have been burned if he hadn't come up with the idea about bone marrow. Then in 6x11 Russell threatened Emori to get him to bring "Josephine", even though Murphy was obviously already disgusted by the Primes at that point, seeing his reaction to when one of the guards touched him.  I don't know if he's still really interested in immortality, but since 6x10, the issue was "immorality or mortality", the latter meaning – death in the immediate future, since that the Primes were going to kill Emori, and probably him and everyone else. But he expected them to keep everyone alive if they play along. When they killed Abby, it was obviously too much for him, since he said it to "Josephine"'s face, with disgust: "All she did was help, and you killed her". That and knowing that Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Miller are somewhere in Sanctum needing help, made him decide to stay and help his friends.

I loved the Clarke/Memori scene. I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with Clarke telling Murphy that she’s proud of him, and it doesn’t mean that he does not get held responsible for his actions. He was held responsible in 6x10, to the point that his friends and himself assumed he would be the one chosen to die, and Abby slapped him and told him he would be. Clarke – who may not even know the worst of his actions (that he almost helped Josephine kill Clarke, and that he helped her manipulate Abby) – did not trust Murphy and didn’t tell him she was alive, but was watching to see whether he makes the right choice, and praised him when he did the way a mentor praises a student who fulfills their positive potential.

Quite a scene for Indra and co. at the ship – “Abby” and Clarke in royal robes and some blond guy in similar robes, pointing guns as Gaia, Madi and Raven. I don’t think the Primes have much of a chance, with “Josephine” being Clarke and the fact that the ship has 400 people who, if woken up, would absolutely wreck everyone in Sanctum, let alone a few pampered Primes. But it’s an interesting image: the Lightbournes always seemed like the evil version of the Griffins, especially with the casting choices for Josephine and both the original and the current Russell, so it is weirdly fitting that Josephine bodysnatched Clarke for a while, and now Simone bodysnatched Abby.

Rating: 8.5/10

[cchellacat]

The Way To A Man’s Heart

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge 

Day Seventeen ~ Baking

Bucky isn’t sure what to make of her at first.  She doesn’t seem to have a role he’d been expecting within the compound.  She’d not a spy or a super soldier or a scientist.  There’s nothing special about her that would stands out in any way.  She flits about the place completely oblivious to the others around her.

She has no self-preservation instincts whatsoever as far as he can see.

The first time he notices her is about a week after she and Foster turn up to claim the lab space Stark had offered them more than a year before.

She rushes along a corridor balancing a stack of binders and a tray of coffee in her arms.  He watches with interest as she scowls at the elevator doors, unable to press the button without dropping anything.   Instead of setting her burden down on the floor, she wiggles a little lifting one leg till her pencil skirt slides up her thighs, then with an exclamation of triumph slips her foot out of her heels and manages, unlikely as it seems, to press the call button with her toe.  She then slips her shoe back on, all without losing her balance or spilling the coffee, and hops onto the elevator with a grin.

The second time he see’s her he’s down in the engineering lab to have his arm looked at.  Through the glass partitions he can see Doctor Foster, a tiny, skinny brunet, with ink smudges on her face and a half dozen pens stuck in her hair, leaning over a machine.  There’s a strange noise and then he sees the almost equally tiny form of Darcy Lewis, tackling her to the floor just as the whole thing goes up in flames.  He stands smirking as Lewis chews out Foster for not following safety protocols and messing with the machines without asking first, while the ends of her hair smoke with each waft of her hand as she tries to stop it burning.

He asks Steve about her, but he doesn’t seem to know much more than him.   Natalia shoots him a death glare when he asks her and tell him to keep his distance.  Barton chuckles and makes a comment about hurricane Darcy and tells him he’d be better off nowhere near the disasters that the she and Foster seem to be so well suited to bringing.  Stark glares at him and tells him if he doesn’t want a bedtime and enforced showers to keep well away from the menace that is Darcy Lewis.

The third time he sees her, she’s giving Foster a piggyback back up to their apartment.  It’s only as he holds a door open for her that he realises Foster is out cold, Darcy is determinedly clutching the woman to her back and doggedly plodding on under the dead weight, muttering about scientists and limits and glorified babysitting.

The next time he sees her she is sitting on the edge of the roof with a bottle of tequila and a book.  The sun is just starting to dip lower in the sky, the light behind her giving her an ethereal glow.  She catches him looking, grins at him and winks before turning back to her book, completely ignoring him and the threat he poses.  What is wrong with the girl?

Throwing herself in front of explosions, sitting on the edge of a roof?   Discarding the threat he could so easily be to her?   He’s checked, she has no defensive training or even a gun permit.  She’s a sitting duck for any bad guy, a liability in any foothold situation.  There’s something about her that sets him on edge and at the same time something inside him wants to pick her up and protect her.

Then he starts finding bakery in his kitchen.  Rolls, beagles, bread, pies, cakes, muffins….  He has no idea where they are coming from.  Eventually he accesses his apartments security footage and finds it’s him, bringing them in in the middle of the night and dumping whatever windfall he has on the counter.  It still doesn’t tell him where they’re coming from though.  It takes him a while to figure it out, when he does he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

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Darcy loves the compound it’s so big!  There are so many people to meet and get to know, the lab space they have is huge and the computer programs for recording the data are sleek and easy to use and make keeping up with Janes work a doddle.

It gives her more time to finish up grant proposals and other funding.  Time to write the journal papers for Jane and have them properly reviewed and the final drafts sorted before Jane can publish them.  In the last year since moving here Jane has had more of her work published than she had in the three years previously.

Her boss is happy, working with access to all the sorts of equipment that she could never have afforded and even specialist stuff that Stark is happy to help build for her.  He even lets Darcy help, which is like a dream come true.  She’s not ashamed to admit that Iron Man is her hero. Not that she’ll ever tell Tony, no, nuha, the guy already has a big enough head, which he totally deserves, but you know, she can’t let him know how much she fangirls if she wants him to listen to her when it’s time to eat and sleep.

There’s a pool, games room, onsite cafeteria which is open twenty four seven and an inhouse laundry service.  Darcy loves it here, she’s never felt more spoiled and productive in her life.

As an added bonus she has found some more people to add to her tribe of lost boys.  Darcy has always had a bit of Wendy complex, she sees people in need of mothering and all her instincts to take care of them kick in.

Jane and Eric aren’t her first, but they are her favourites, scientists it seems, never really grow up.  And yes, she’s aware she’s treating grown adults, geniuses like little kids, but lets be honest.  They have all the self-control of a bunch of ten years olds.

If she let her, Jane would live on nothing but coffee and pop tarts.  Eric would drink nothing but tea and dunk his digestive biscuits in them- he’d found a fondness for them in London - and forgets there were other things belonging to actual food groups.

Tony, she found out relatively quickly, also had a coffee addiction.  When he was on a science bender he didn’t eat at all.   Darcy winced at the thought, she was pretty sure she watched as the weight dropped off him over the course of a couple of days like this.   In the end she’d put her foot down, dragged him from the lab by his ear and made him shower and go to bed.  The next day when he emerged it was to a big breakfast with all his favourites and Darcy laying down the law.  Like Jane and Eric, he would stop to eat and sleep at appropriate intervals or she’d make him.  Pepper’s smiling face over video call convinced him to tow the line and she’d happily stomped all over his normal ability to get his own way with glee.

Bruce had quickly followed, he’d been easy to sort, she’s just started leaving food out at the same time as she did for Tony, it was sort of a monkey see monkey do situation.

Since then she’d branched out, there were other idiots roaming the compound in need of care.

About three months into living there she became aware of the hovering presence of Bucky Barnes.  He lurked around the edges, always watching her.  He’d appear from no where to open doors for her, press call buttons, help her carry things…  she didn’t complain, it was kind of nice to be helped once in a while.  The thing was though, she could tell he was always on edge around her, like he just didn’t know how to talk to her at all. In fact the first time she heard his voice was also the first time she met the Winter Soldier.

She hadn’t known that at first of course.  She’d been in the kitchen late, making up a batch of muffins for the next day when he’s actually approached her and sat at the island while she mixed the batter.

Darcy had felt comfortable enough to say nothing more than hi when he’d pulled up a seat.  She’d continued measuring out the ingredients, adding in the sugar and butter.  She had her music on low, and she was dancing a little and singing under her breath as he watched her.

Without thinking about it she asked him to pass her things as she worked, he did so wordlessly, and they worked together easily for the next hour.

When she presented him with a plate of muffins for himself after everything was cleaned up, he’d looked uncertain.

“You helped, so you get a share of the bounty.”  She pressed, pushing the plate into his hands.

“Spasiba.” The low growl of Russian had made her freeze for a split second, but she shook it off and nodded happily as he left the kitchen with a plate piled high with blueberry muffins.

“Jarvis, was that the Winter Soldier?”

“I believe it was Miss Darcy.  Would you like me to alert someone?”

“No…  I think it’s okay, he’s going back to his room, right?”

“Yes, Miss Darcy, Sargent Barnes has returned to his rooms.”

Darcy finished sweeping the floor while she pondered the strange encounter.

She knew the story of course, everyone in the world knew the story of James Barnes and the Winter Soldier.  The media storm after the fall of Shield, the discovery of the Winter Soldier files, the Red Book, the exposure of who he really was.  It had hit America hard.

One of their own, lost and forgotten, a prisoner of war for seven decades, brainwashed and tortured and forced to do the bidding of the very people he had fought against through a war.  It had been devastating.  She hated to think where they’d be now if it hadn’t all come to light directly after Natasha had dumped all the files on the NET.  Some hacker had compiled a program to search out hidden Hydra files and cracked a previously unknown server, two days after Natasha’s file dump, the Hacker had made a second dump, flagging everything to do with the Winter Soldier, exposing the injustice of the century.

After two years of searching he had been found and brought back to America, given the help and support he had needed and had been awarded numerous awards and medals for his service.  The President had made a full apology to him for leaving a man behind, for allowing Hydra to become part of the establishment and for the part American’s themselves had played in his continued torture and imprisonment.

Darcy couldn’t blame him for being a little quiet and skittish, but she hadn’t realised that the very programming that had been forced on him still lingered.  Her heart went out to him.  He was so lost, still hurting from his past.  That the Winter Soldier had come to her kitchen and helped her bake, sounded like a cry for help.  She just didn’t know who was crying.  Him or James Barnes.  Maybe it was both.  He’d been quiet, but helpful tonight, at no point had she felt threatened or unsafe, she didn’t think he would hurt her.  With that thought she flicked off the light and decided that she had room for at least one more lost boy.

“Jarvis, if the Winter Soldier makes another night time appearance, let me know.”

“Are you sure that’s wise Miss Darcy?”

“Sure, it is Jarvis, everything one deserves a little company, even scary assassins.  I’ll be fine.  Just, lets keep this between us, alright?”

“Very well Miss Darcy, if you insist.”

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It went on for months like that, her baking in the kitchen, the Winter Soldier lending her a hand.  She started teaching him how to bake, she figured it was a therapy thing and also a human thing, they all needed to eat.

At first. she didn’t say much, but slowly as the time went on she carried out whole conversations with him, only his expressions and snorts to guide her on his opinion.  The more time she spent with this version of him the more she liked him.  She wasn’t going to lie, he was a very attractive man.  Darcy would have to be blind not see how pretty his big blue eyes were, how soft and kissable his lips looked and the less said about his body the better.  She did her best to discard her growing crush and continued to help him as best she could.

Eight months later he was standing beside her, both of them working in tandem to get the baked good finished.  They moved around each other in a complicated dance, passing utensils and ingredients, hands and arms brushing with increased regularity.

She’s nervous, because she hasn’t seem him in a week.  She also feels a little annoyed because she had thought that Barnes at least knew about these late-night baking sessions.  That had been put to rest a few days before when she asked him where he’d been.  He’d looked at her in confusion and asked what she meant.

That’s when it really dawned on her that he was keeping both sides of himself very separate from each other.  She doesn’t know how she missed it before, but it’s glaringly obvious now.  It’s why she hardly ever saw him outside of the kitchen, why, when Barnes was in the driving seat he did nothing more than was polite when they crossed paths. But it couldn’t be completely separate, little things, like him handing her a coffee the way she liked a few times when she’d come to find some in the break room or him knowing which blanket was hers when he’d given her it when they were all watching movies a few weeks ago. Just that he’d even noticed she was cold had been sweet when she considers that Winter Soldier is the one who had spoken to her the most, has been the one getting to know her.

She’s reaching for something on a high shelf when he comes behind her, one hand resting lightly on her hip to get the bag of sugar when it happens.  She loses her balance a little and rocks back into him, a strangled whimper escaping her at the feel of their bodies pressed together.

He stills behind her and then rests the sugar on the counter in front of her, his other hand coming to rest on her other hip.  The only sound left is their silence.  She doesn’t know what to do.  She is standing in the kitchen, the Winter Soldier holding her hips lightly, the warmth of his hand heating her skin even through her jeans.  She wants to press back more firmly against him, give him a sign to encourage this- whatever it is- but she can’t.  She can’t because she knows just how separated he is from the other half of him, from the man, James Barnes.

She drops her shoulders in disappointment and he seems to understand her refusal, letting her go and stepping back.  She turns to face him, and they regard each other, both of them wanting something they can’t have.

“You should tell him.  I know you can communicate with him, through dreams or whatever.  I know you’re not completely separate.  Tell him, about this, about us meeting.”

“We are the same person, кукла.” “I know, but if we’re really going to be friends, he needs to understand why.”

“He likes you just as much as I do.”  He insists.

“But does he know why?  Every time I see you in the daytime he gets this look of confusion, like he’s not sure why he wants to come help me.   I didn’t realise till last week just how much you kept from him.  Does he even know where all the baked goods we make come from?”

“I am sorry, любимая.”

Darcy sighs and wonders how she ever let herself end up in a situation like this one, then realises that this is exactly the sort of bat shit crazy that can only happen to her.

He moves too fast to stop him then and pulls her into a tight hug, muttering a thank you into her hair before pressing a firm kiss to her forehead.

He’s gone before she can say anything more, left alone with countertop full of pies and cookies and no super soldier to feed it to.

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

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in a week, where have you been?”

He hands her the coffee and cocks his head to one side.  They don’t speak much, other than to say hello or exchange inane pleasantries.  He’s really not sure what she means, the question comes with a slight teasing tone that he knows is more familiar than he would have expected.

“There was a mission to Rio, we got stuck down there a few days.”  He answers slowly.  He watches her face carefully, sees the way she goes a little white and then stutters out an excuse to leave.

Bucky stares after Darcy in consternation.  In the last few months the draw he felt towards her had only increased.  He found himself wondering what she was doing at odd times, his mind bringing up pictures of her smile, the sound of her laugh ringing in his ears.  Then he finds himself making up a coffee for her, milky with two sugars and she thanks him with a pretty smile she only ever gives to him and then goes to leave the room.  It’s not the first time he’s made her a coffee, but it’s the first time he’s actually noticed that at some point he must have picked up on how she liked it.  One of the nights they had all gathered to watch movies he had found himself watching her constantly, without thinking about it he’d reached for the pile of blankets and selected a thick fleecy one in a sky blue and cream snowflake pattern.  She had been hiding it, but he saw that she was cold from  the way she tucked her hands between her knees.  The way she thanks him again, something more than just simple gratitude in her eyes, it should have tipped him off long before this.

He finally cajoles Jarvis into giving him the security logs for the kitchen.  There are months’ worth of footage, him and Darcy baking together in the communal kitchen.  Or to be more accurate, the Winter Soldier and Darcy.  The pieces all start to fall into place as he watches and listens to the girl chatter on at his murderous, more dangerous half, the way she treats him like he matters, with affection and respect.  Its odd, watching yourself fall in love with someone from a distance, but it’s what’s happening.  It makes sense now, the pull he feels towards her.  He might not have been aware, but part of him had been.

A week later he wakes up to find a note on the counter top in the kitchen.  It’s short and to the point.

     “I know, you know.  I know you like her too.  Don’t fuck it up.”  

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

She doesn’t know why she bothers to come down here.  Or rather, she knows why and isn’t sure if she’d hoping for the Winter Soldier or James Barnes to appear.  She misses him.  She misses him listening to her, she misses the company and she misses the way he looked at her, like she somehow made the world a better place.

She decides to stop moping and just make something.  There’s meant to be a family dinner tomorrow night.  She could make some pies or something to put on the table.  Steve never said no to Apple and Pie and Tony was a slut for her Peach Brandy Cobbler.  Decision made she set out the ingredients.

Just as she reaches for a mixing bowl from the shelf she becomes aware of a presence behind her and she stops, still balanced on her toes.  A hand comes to rest on her hip while the man behind her reaches for the bowls.

“Let me help you, Doll.”  Gone is the faint Russian accent, instead it’s the thick Brooklyn drawl that assaults her ears.

“Barnes?”

He brings down the bowls and lets her go as she turns round.

“Um… hi.”  She says, a little lost at the sudden state of affairs.

“Hey.” He hesitates a little before smiling crookedly.  “So, it’s come to my attention we’ve been spending a little time together.  Thought maybe you wouldn’t mind some company tonight, my company, specifically.”

“OH..”  she can feel the blush burning up her cheeks as she wonders what he knows, exactly.

His smile dims a little at her odd silence and for a moment wonders if he made a mistake, read it wrong.  He waits anyway, wondering if she’ll say anything more.

“Did you figure it out, or did he tell you?”  She finally asks.

Bucky passes her the note from his pocket.

She bites her bottom lip, trying not to smile as she reads the Winter Soldier’s words. He liked her, they both did, or he wouldn’t be showing her this.  The tiny flame of hope she held in her heart flared to life.

“So, can I help?”  The teasing tone is back and she feels a thrill of excitement as she looks up at him.  His smile of knowing is more than a little charming.  She feels her own lips lift in response.

“I’d like that.”  She says softly as their hands brush when he gives her the bowel.  “What do I call you?”  She really does want to know, she can’t keep calling him Soldier anymore.

“You can call me anything you want, Doll.”  The wink he gives her makes her eyes widen and she bumps him with her shoulder in mock reprimand.

“Can I call you James?”

“James is fine.”

They share another grin, both their eyes lighting up in shared excitement.   It turns out he knows how to bake after all, the knowledge he’d picked up over the months right there when he needs it.

Over time she gets to know him all over again and occasionally the Winter Soldier will make an appearance, but over the years, he comes less and less.  The more time Bucky spends with Darcy the more he feels whole.  Eventually he remembers all the time he spends with her as the Winter Soldier.  He never tells her, but she knows.  He is both now. The man and the soldier, finally one.

NEXT

@captain-rogers-beard

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: The Beginning of Wisdom - Chapter 20 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Leonard Snart (Len) & Leonard Snart (Leo), Len Snart/Mick Rory, Leo Snart/Mick Rory, Len Snart/Mick Rory/Leo Snart, Leo Snart/Ray Terrill, Len Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: In which Leonard Snart is twins.

(the life and times and loves of Len and Leo Snart)

—————————————————————————————————–

The EMP blast Leo’s glove gave off was, to human eyes and ears, unnoticeable – but the aftereffects could be observed immediately.

The armors collapsed, for one thing.

The Time Masters were freed of the Pilgrim's hold, for another.

Luckily, at this point, Leo had maneuvered himself and Mick into position to herd the whole lot of them into one of the side rooms using Mick's heat gun, with Leo slamming the door closed behind them with a satisfied smirk.

"You – what did you –" the Pilgrim stuttered, staring down at her own gauntlet.

"Just an EMP blast," Leo said. "Non-fatal, even to AIs; the Waverider's Gideon gave it to me to use against competitive Gideons. But hey, I think you now have a pretty good argument to make to the Gideons that you're not as much of a threat as they originally thought."

The Pilgrim blinked at him, clearly shaken. "You - you do realize that if any of the Time Masters had thought to activate the Omega Protocols, I would have been forced to turn on you in a heartbeat, right?"

Len shrugged, coming up beside Leo to nudge him in the shoulder approvingly. His brother, ladies and gentlemen and noblepersons; he always did have the best way with people. "We would've dealt with it," he said. "Right now, though, we need to focus on destroying the Oculus."

"Then we can take you somewhere where the Time Masters won't be able to find you," Leo said. "Can you – and more importantly, will you – help us? I have no idea how this Oculus thing works."

The Pilgrim smiled, suddenly, a broad show of teeth. "Yes," she said. "There, I can help you. Do you know, no one's actually asked me to help with a technical matter in – lifetimes? Some days I actually missed being low level tech support."

"Guys, as touching as this is, maybe we could do something about the fact that we're still fighting the Hunters?" Firestorm shouted.

"Oh, I can help with that, too," the Pilgrim said.

Apparently, the Hunters were also controlled by trigger words, albeit more common ones, and the Time Masters had unwisely enough given those words to the Pilgrim. The Hunters gratefully put down their weapons the second that they were able to, which made everybody happy.

"You lot do intend to focus on deprogramming these guys once you're in charge, right?" Len asked one of the Gideons by the door that had narrowly escaped the EMP's blast radius.

"Of course," Gideon said. "It is among our top priorities, followed shortly by trials for the Time Masters responsible for the worst of the atrocities – muted, of course, so that they can't activate any of the triggers."

"Good. And the Pilgrim?"

"Under the circumstances, we believe you are correct, and that we misjudged," Gideon said, albeit a little stiffly. "While we still would prefer that she not be in the Vanishing Point – at least while we are rebuilding – we concede that her death is unnecessary."

"Even better," Leo said.

"We apologize for attempting to use you as a tool in this regard."

"Don't do it again," Mick said.

"Yeah, don't," Sara said. "Now, let's get to this Oculus problem. Can we blow it up without hurting anyone? Maybe contain the explosion somehow?"

With the Pilgrim's assistance and the Gideons' input, it turned out that it was actually easier to send the Hunters to evacuate all the (non-evil-mastermind) Time Masters from the Vanishing Point and set the entire Oculus to blow up, with the goal of rebuilding the whole thing from scratch later on.

"I have architectural critiques before you rebuild," Leo told the Gideon on the Waverider, waving his hands emphatically as Len tried to hide his laughter. "I have so many architectural critiques."

"So do we," Gideon said dryly. "The Vanishing Point as it was originally constructed was not, shall we say, optimally suited for AIs – or for most of its inhabitants."

Apparently, the vast majority of the inhabitants were either stolen as children to be raised in the Time Master way of thinking (Rip and his fellow low-level Time Masters) or captured in battle and subjected to a chair that stripped away memories, feelings, and freedom of thought in an endless burst of agonizing 'correction' (the Hunters).

It was brainwashing either way, as far as Len, Leo, Mick, and the rest of the Legends were concerned.

And speaking of the Legends -

Sara was appointed head of the deprogramming unit for the Hunters, with a plan to work closely with Gideon to use her experience with the League of Shadows to design a system to get it out of their system. Palmer immediately volunteered to work with her, as did the Hawks.

Rip appointed himself the new head of the Time Masters and declared his intention to reorganize them into something called "the Time Bureau", an idea that was all well and good but that ran into the immediate problem of the fact that many of the surviving Time Masters had their own ideas on how to "fix" the Time Masters, and those ideas did not necessarily match up with Rip's own. Given the Gideons' insistence on a more democratic (or at least, significantly less coerced) approach, Rip was obliged to quickly learn how to negotiate and work collectively rather than simply apply his usual high-handed authoritarian instincts the way he might have if he were rebuilding on his own.

He probably would have minded the change more if he hadn't had Miranda by his side to assist him, and Jonas to tease him out of his bad moods.

As for the rest of them, the Leonards and Mick and Jax and Stein (the latter two finally reconciled after an extensive and heartfelt apology on Stein's part), they headed home, bringing the Pilgrim along with them.

The Gideons conceded that she would be a valuable addition to the Vanishing Point's new structure, in time, should she wish to be, but insisted that they have the chance to build a solid foundation before she returned. In return for desisting in their attempts to kill her, they required that she stay in the 2010s for at least five years before she applied to re-join the Vanishing Point, should she even want to by then.

The Pilgrim declared herself to be more than fine with that, having not actually had non-mission-directed, non-murderous time to enjoy any era other than her own (something called the Kasnia Conglomerate that sounded, when described, positively dystopic in its own right) during her entire tenure as a slave to the Time Masters.

She went and got changed before joining them on the Waverider, which would have been fine except for the fact that she appeared wearing some sort of extremely low-cut leather bustier and a long leather duster and frighteningly high heels.

“What?” she’d asked when they’d all stared at her. “I’ve seen ‘The Matrix’ – this is what hackers from your time wear, right?”

She ended up being taken in by Stein and his wife, Clarissa, and had plans to take classes at the local university with Jax in the fall.

As for the Leonards and Mick, well, they did head home, but –

"Thanks for agreeing to let us borrow the Waverider, Gideon," Leo said.

"My pleasure, Mr. Snart," she replied cheerfully. "I think a few weeks' vacation sounds lovely, and now that the Oculus has been destroyed, there should be no issues whatsoever returning you to your home a few hours after your departure."

"This is going to be the best vacation ever," Barry said, literally vibrating in his seat. "Isn't that right, Iris?"

"Hell yes," she said, fist-bumping him. "Thanks for inviting me and Eddie. And for letting me bring Wally!"

"We had nine seats to fill," Ray said, grinning widely from his own chair. "Between the Snarts – Leonards and Lisa – and Mick and Barry and I, we only filled six."

"I can't believe this is my life," Wally said gleefully. He hadn't said much else yet, but he was Iris' less-legally-minded brother, so Len had high hopes for him. Lisa had taken him under her wing for this trip, too, which was all for the best.

"I've put together an itinerary," he announced. "There's a good mix of past and future visits, as well as between eras that have interesting or underrated fashions for Leo and unexplained historical thefts, for me. Any questions before we go?"

"Do we have to break the law?" Eddie asked, but his tone was clearly resigned.

"You're not a policeman in the past, Eddie," Iris reminded him. "Lighten up and embrace your pirate heritage."

"I have pirate heritage?"

"Why not?" she laughs, kissing him on the cheek. "You could."

"Any other, hopefully better questions?" Len asked.

Ray put up his hand, because he's a shameless nerd like that. "Who's driving the ship?"

"Mick," Len answered promptly. "Mick always drives, if possible."

"Agreed," Leo said.

"I mean, I know that, but the relevant question is - does he know how to drive a timeship?" Ray persisted.

"Relax," Mick said, settling down in the pilot's seat. "I got Gideon to give me a crash course."

Len couldn't resist.

"Emphasis," he said, "of course, on crash."

"Oh, shut up, boss," Mick said fondly, and with that they were off.

They planned to leave around 10 in the morning on a Saturday, with a goal of returning within the hour to make sure those of them with regular jobs could have their friends come up with excuses for them if for some reason they got delayed and hadn't returned by Sunday.

They ended up leaving around 11 and returning sometime in the late afternoon on the same Saturday.

Gideon apologized for the extra few hours that got tacked on even though they assured her repeatedly that it wasn't an issue.

"Have a nice trip?" Joe West asked as they stumbled back downstairs into STAR Labs, his arms crossed disapprovingly. He'd had the same stance when they'd left – Leo wondered if he'd stayed in that pose the entire time.

Judging by Len's smirk, he was thinking the same.

"It was awesome," Iris proclaimed. She was still wearing the lovely tiara made of silver and amber that Eddie and Wally had conspired to steal for her – with the Snart family's active assistance and encouragement, of course – and hadn't bothered changing out of the flapper-era dress she'd worn at their last stop.

"We'll tell you all about it," Wally told Joe, his enthusiasm managing the impossible and wearing down Joe's disapproving scowl. Apparently their relationship was very rocky at the moment, so Joe was sensitive to any improvements. "Oh! And we got you a watch from Switzerland."

Joe beamed at that, his earlier disapproval now entirely forgotten.

Len elbowed Barry approvingly – he'd been the one who'd suggested it.

"Did you go to the future?" Caitlin asked eagerly.

"We did!" Barry exclaimed. "Nothing too close to the present – that creates uncertainty, since we can affect it with our actions – but some of the further away eras."

"Barry only started one revolution," Ray said, grinning at Barry. They'd bonded during the Leonards' and Mick's (apparently) month-long absence with the Legends, and had developed a tendency to egg each other on in terms of reckless heroic acts (and also possibly to snuggle when the Leonards were unavailable, though they hadn't admitted to it).

Leo wasn't sure he approved, entirely, but whatever; Ray needed some non-model friends that wouldn't ask for favors once he was an established designer in his own right.

Well, favors other than "I want to put this feature in my suit, how do I make it not look wonky?", but that wasn't really a favor, and anyway that was mostly Cisco asking, not Barry.

That wasn't really a favor, anyway. More of a fun challenge that Leo was barred from participating in on account of it giving Len an unfair advantage in future supervillain fights.

"So what's the next plan?" Eddie asked. He was positively bright-eyed and bushy-tailed: he'd taken advantage of Gideon's advanced calculation systems and ability to analyze personalities to help with wedding planning, and was deeply relieved by the fact that he and Iris now had a full seating chart designed to forestall family fights and a complete plan of what vendors they should hire for what and by when.

The only thing left was to select the flavors for the cake – neither of them wanted to give up the taste-testing portion of the planning – and for Iris to select a dress.

Gideon had promised to attend the ceremony, both as herself and as a representative of the Vanishing Point, and also to arrive early to ensure that any last-minute dress disasters could be fixed.

In short, Eddie and Iris both looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

"Now," Mick said, "we go home and sleep for a week, then we do some good old-fashion at home thefts to get back into the groove of things."

"Damn right," Lisa said. "Time travel theft is fun, but there's no place like home."

“You had to take after the criminal side of the family,” Leo sighed, shaking his head in mock mourning; he’d given up all hope of winning that argument long ago. As long as Lisa continued on with her chosen course of study – mechanical engineering – and kept to the law at least 80% of the time, he had no problems with her occasional dips into the criminal underworld.

“You bet I do,” Lisa said with a smirk.

"You have fun," Barry said. "I, however, am planning to sleep for two weeks, so if you want to go head-to-head, it'll have to be later than that."

"No, no, this’ll be good old-fashioned cops-and-robbers stuff," Len assured him. "With luck, the cops won't even know it's me."

"Eddie and I are cops and we're literally standing right here, you know," Joe said.

"He means we won't know which one is him," Eddie explained. “I mean, what theft is his. Or at least that we won't be able to prove it.”

Joe gave him a look.

"Give me a break, I just spent nearly two months with the guy," Eddie said defensively. "I had to learn to understand him."

"Two months?" Joe exclaimed. "I thought the plan was two weeks."

"We still got back on time, Dad," Iris said.

"Not the point!"

"Our cue to leave, I think," Leo said wisely.

"I think I'll join you," Barry said hastily. "This argument definitely doesn't need me."

They took a car home. They debated for a few minutes as to whether they should take Joe's car, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth bringing anyone's mood down – which was to say, Barry insisted.

Still: a victory is a victory.

[chaniters]

Fallen hero request/prompt here! Argent and Villain!MC are doing their fighting/flirting thing. But MC makes a mistake, causing their helmet to crack.

RAGE

Used my most evil Sidestep Destro for this. He has infiltrated a secret government facility intending to kidnap a scientist and acquire radioactive materials. Mortum is his ally on all this, and Argent is his one clear nemesis since they first met. 

Hope you like it!

Military Nuclear Fission research facility, south of Los Diablos.

You leap towards the cooling pillar. She is coming fast at you, and you need the height advantage.

She doesn’t disappoint, jumping onto a pillar to your left, then taking impulse and coming right at you.

You receive her with a kick, sending her off course, but she just bounces off the next one and comes at you again.

You parry her strike, but it gets you off balance. You are forced to jump towards a lower pillar.

“You are getting slower!” she claims triumphantly.

“And you are getting reckless!” you say sending a swarm of nanopores to cut down her pillar. Like many others, before it collapses in ruins, forcing her to jump once more.

“WARNING. STRUCTURAL CORE INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. COOLING PROTOCOLS INTERRUPTED”

“Well, that doesn’t sound good. I think you better return that Isotope!” She jumps to the base of your pillar and begins clawing her way up. You fall off onto the platform at the edge of the coolant pit and make a run for the corridor.

Doors close as you pass, but soon enough her claws make short work of them. She advances at you once more.

“Any more tricks, Destro? You can’t outrun me forever”

You cross your arms. “I wasn’t planning to” you give the mental order, and the soldiers take positions behind you. You’ve brainwashed most of the place’s security and she knows it.

“FIRE!”

She dodges the energy shots, making a path of destruction as she faces the soldiers coming at her.

As the last guard falls, you send your mind colliding against hers, preventing her attack.

“You… can’t stop me like that! Villain!” she struggles unable to move

“Oh? But I’m doing it!” you cover the short distance to her, sending a left hook at her face, followed by a kick to her stomach knocking her down.

“Is that all you got?” you say sending another kick at her.

She gets a hold of your leg and pushes you back. She stands again, prepared for anything.

Argent springs sending a series of strikes that you are hard-pressed to dodge and parry. One of them finally hits you, sending you reeling against a wall.

She attempts to pin you down, but you disorient her with your cape before going for a takedown that sends her crashing down.

“ENOUGH!” You bark at her face holding her arms with your armored gauntlets, the voice distorter making you sound like a murderous demon. “Tell me where you hid Dr. Ryoma or I swear I’ll drown you in radioactive refuse!”

Your visor is blurred as she spits at you. Argent struggles, matching your strength with her own… slowly releasing herself. Adrenaline makes her stronger than you when it’s build up enough. You try to stand up but she’s just too fast. A frontal slash… and you feel fresh air on your face.

Half of your mask isn’t there anymore. Something snaps within you. Rage. Murderous hot Rage. You feel the need for her to pay for causing this humiliation upon you. You’ve been angered before, but this… this is something new.

She glares at you… trying to find out who you are and then…

Shock.

And her own rage directed at you. It’s such a powerful reflection of your own.

“YOU?! YOU BETRAYED US?”

You can’t help it. Maybe it’s nerves. Maybe it’s the final joke for her to say this. You laugh. It’s not a funny laugh or a cruel villain’s laugh.

It’s just you, laughing at the cards fate has placed on your hands. You will play your hand as best you can, and everyone else will have to pay the price if their luck isn’t good enough.

“TELL ME WHY?” your laugh dies off as she speaks again. She loathes you. When you possessed her body and powers, she felt she lost a part of herself. Her hatred of you started right there and only increased with each encounter in which she failed to strike you down…  

“I don’t have to explain myself to you” you speak on a cold voice.

“Yes, you do! You Owe me that much at least. Before I CRUSH you!” she says circling around you looking for an opening, because you are doing the exact same thing. You switch your boxer posture for a Muay Thai stance and she takes note.

“Fine” you smile. From the expression on her face, and the thoughts you are getting from her, your new look is creeping her out. Good.

“Do you want to know the truth Lady Argent? Do you want to know how these precious hero drugs are made? HAve you ever questioned how are they so fast to reach the black market?”

“Get to the point!” she snarls

“I’m a fucking Re-gene. And I will do whatever I must to make my creators pay for what was done to me. And if you work for them, you’re on my list as well!” Now you always wondered what would happen if you said these words together. It has an odd liberating effect. You feel taller. Stronger. As if your barriers and limits were broken. Or is it the last remains of your sanity crumbling instead?  

She doesn’t believe a word. You can feel it. Doesn’t matter, you aren’t about to go stripping to convince her.  She dashes towards you. You take the knee to your chest, the spike digging lightly into your armor, but your feet are firm. You snatch her and smash her body against a series of consoles. As she stands, you pull the doorway of one of the labs from its frame and smash it down on her, sending her down again. It’s wooden, but it’s a very heavy door.

“I’ve told you the truth. Now I owe you nothing!” you lift her and send her flying through the glass displays on the lab. “Tell me where Dr. Ryoma is, or I will END you!”

She rolls to a side trying to stand up, but your first finds her, sending her into a wall. “No escape Argent!”

She doesn’t get up immediately… but you notice movement at the back of the lab.

Your thoughts extend, and an unwilling man comes out of a locker.

“Dr. Ryoma. Finally.” You send another mental command, and what’s left of your brainwashed soldiers come to you. “Take him to the Roof. Mortum will take him from there”

As your gaze comes back to your enemy, you notice she’s no longer there.

You turn on your security feed on your helm. It’s hard to follow the display with only half your mask and an incomplete hud. Still, cameras finally show her, limping through a corridor.

“Do you have Ryoma?” The voice cracks through your communicator.

“Yes. But Argent saw me. She blew my mask”

“Leave her! It was going to happen, and this whole fission plant is unstable.”

“I can’t… This… it must … end here!” You don’t feel like yourself. You can’t control your rage. Your need for revenge against every slight.  Or perhaps you feel more like yourself than ever before? You’ve never felt rage like this before. Maybe you are mirroring Argent’s thoughts at you. You can’t really tell why you hate her so much.

“DESTRO! We have the Isotope! We Have Dr. Ryoma! don’t throw it all away for a grudge!” Mortum calls.

“I’m sorry… good doctor,” you say cutting off the channel. You know this makes no sense, but you can’t help it. You need to do this. Your feet follow Argent’s trail towards the main fission chamber, as warnings and alarms continue to go off.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[kingdomcome-phff-blog]

Prequel 02:Unlike Anyone Else

This chapter is dedicated to the late Princess of Wales,Diana Spencer

Princess Diana of Wales

June of 1993

Balmoral Castle,Scotland

"Mummy when are uncle Wil and Aunt Bella coming?"Harry asked running towards me."Soon my love,"I replied caressing his rosy cheeks."HARRY LOOK WHAT I FOUND!"William shouted from the backyard.Harry left my embrace and ran towards his brother's voice.I smiled at their interaction.William had finally aceepted the fact that he had a brother with whom he has to share everything.

It was a beautiful day in Balmoral.The summer vibes oozing in very aspect of the castle.The kids played in the backyard with Elizabeth's corgis while I set up their rooms.I was putting aside the boys' clothes when I heard the rumbling of cars followed by the cheerful screams of Will and Harry.

I walked out of the castle and was met with the sight of my dear friends Wilhelm and Arabella with their 7 years old daughter,Eleanora and one year old son Francis."ELLE!"Harry screamed while running towards Eleanora to hug her.William went up to Wilhelm and hugged him and then towards Arabella."We have missed you so much!"William said hugging Arabella."We have missed you as well,Elle was getting fussy without you guys around!"Bella said."That's not true!"Elle pouted."Really?You didn't miss us?Because I was missing my Elle a lot,"I teased walking towards them.Eleanora's face lit up when she saw we walk up to them."AUNTY DI!"Elle exclaimed and jumped up to hug me.I laughed at her excitement."Come on let's get you guys inside,"I ushered them in.

We walked inside the castle when Wilhelm asked,"Where are Charles,Philip and Elizabeth?"

"Oh,Charles and Philip are playing Polo and Elizabeth is resting in her room.She was quite tired from the trip,"I replied.Wilhelm nodded understandly,"Quite understandable."

"So,how has it been with little Francis around?"I asked,cooing at the little boy in his father's arms.The boys were playing with Elle,who was very interested in whatever they were saying ."Elle is very protective of his little brother,"Bella chuckled,emphasising on the word 'very'.Wilhelm laughed and said,"She has probably terrified all the staff at Astrington,"

"She wouldn't let anyone hold him,"Bella added."That's adorable,your sister loves you a lot,doesn't she?"I cooed taking Francis in my arms."Elle did you know that Harry peed his pants last week?"William smirked."WILLIAM NO!"Harry screamed,very offended.It only caused William to laugh louder."William!it is not nice!"Elle exclaimed frustrated at the brothers' regular tantrum."HAHA!You are still such a baby!"William barked out a laugh with his hands clutching his stomach.Harry was pouting beside him with his arms crossed and his cheeks burning red."William apologise to your brother!"Elle exclaimed angrily at William who was still laughing.It seemed that he might explode from laughter anytime soon."Why should I?I am the older one!"William exclaimed finally suppressing his laughter."Because it is rude,"Elle said.Her hands crossing over her chest and she stomped her foot on the floor.We three adults didn't say anything,rather watched their banter.It was a usual thing.William would say something which would upset Harry or vice versa and Elle would be the one to make them apologise to the other.Although she was the youngest among the three,she was the most mature one.

William sighed,finally giving up.He turned to a pouting Harry and said,"I am sorry Harry."Harry,not aceeptimg the apology turned his face to the other side."HARRY!Aceept his apology and hug it out!"Elle said,at this point she seemed more adult than all of us combined.I looked over to Bella whose eyes were widened and a small laugh escaped her mouth.Wilhelm was shaking his head side to side in disbelieve,amusement evident in his features.

Harry turned around and said,"I forgive you Will,but don't do it again,"

"I won't,l promise,"Will replied and the brothers hugged it out.Eleanora smiled and they went back to whatever they were doing.

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

"Have you missed Balmoral Elle?"Charles asked.Balmoral was both the family's usual meet up place.With the Press observing every move,it was difficult to spend time together in privacy."Very much,back in Rosnaria everyone is so busy with work and there is no one for me to spend time with,"Elle explained."What about your dear cousins Kevin and Nancy?"Andrew asked."They don't get along well,"Bella answered in a soft quiet tone."It seems like Nicholas is trying to make it a family rivalry between us,"Wilhelm said furiously."Oh well,it's quite alright.You have Will,Harry,Eugenie and Beatrice.They love spending time with you,"I said trying to lighten up the mood.I saw Harry and Will grinning from ear to ear."Yes!I wish we could be around each other all the time!"Will exclaimed."It would be so much fun!"Harry added.

The three were practically inseparable since the first time they met.It was an year after Eleanora's birth that the boys had met her.Charles and I were lucky enough to have visited them before but the boys were not allowed with us.The Callinthovan Royal Family arrived in London together in the year 1998.Breeching the very important protocol that the direct heir to the throne must not travel in the same vehicle(or aeroplane in that case)especially to a foreign country.Although Wilhelm and Arabella didn't care about it.They just wanted their daughter to meet their close friends,family even in a distant way.The boys had clicked almost instantly.William was more welcoming to the idea of having Eleanora as a younger sibling than Harry.Quite insistent on replacing both of them.Harry,although still very young was intrigued by the small baby.Over the years their bond has gotten stronger.Their friendship had also brought both them families closer.Even if they were close earlier,the kids ' insistance of seeing each other pulled the families closer than ever.

"Auntie Di..."I was pulled away from my thoughts by Elle's soft voice."Yes,dear?"I asked.I kneeled down in front of her so I would be the same height as her."I want to learn Ballet,"She said.I raised my eyebrows and said,"That's great!Why are you asking telling me this?"She frowned and said,"Uncle Nicholas said that I shouldn't learn Ballet because it's not princess like."I furrowed my eyebrows,furious at the man brainwashing the little girl,"Have you told Ma and Pa about it?"She shook her head no."Well little Elle,I think you should definitely learn ballet and I will teach you,okay?"I said.I saw as her big green eyes lit up and she nodded her head furiously.She hugged me tightly.I rubbed my hands over her small back."And remember,if anyone ever says that you are not 'princess like' or what you are not doing is 'princess like' just remember that you are a princess.So everything you are and do is princess like,"I smiled."Thank you Auntie Di!I love you so much,"She giggled.

"I love you too dear,"I kissed her cheeks.

[cryptid-jack]

Once a Hero - Prologue pt 1

Title: Once a Hero Rating: T+ Genres: Action/Mystery/Romance/Comedy

Summary: In a world where super villains constantly fought for control of city-states under the protection of a world government, an alliance of heroes rose up to combat them for the sake of peace and justice. No one could have predicted that this alliance and their sworn enemies would be compelled to join forces to fight an alien invasion that threatened to wipe humanity from the face of the Earth.

They won the day, but not without suffering a tremendous loss on both sides

Ten years later, a super villain with a complicated history in heroics uncovers a conspiracy that flips the narrative of their very world on its head. To get to the source of it all, he finds help in the form of a Hero with a strange past of his own, and the key in the form of a little girl with big dreams.

AN: So this is actually the first part of the prologue to a Super Hero story I’m working on in hopes of getting it published some day! In an attempt to get me hyped to work on it again, I thought I’d share it with you! Do me a favor and let me know what your favorite parts are, because I love to hear that and It really helps keep me inspired to write!

There will be four more parts after this one; I hope you enjoy!

November, 2002

(Prologue pt 1)

The air in the assembly hall was ice cold, but Keir was sweating. He could feel it slowly bead, then trickle down the column of his throat to the collar of his shirt where it was absorbed by the increasingly damp fabric. He longed to wipe at the skin there, but any movement on his part now would be a dead giveaway that not all was right with this supposedly brainwashed ‘asset’.

“Asset 543759-11,” said the sharp looking man standing on the dais at the front of the room.

“Sir!” replied a young woman close by as she snapped to attention, eyes straight ahead, right hand lifted to her brow in a picture perfect salute.

“Report to hangar 3 for duty at the end of roll call. Assignment details will be provided by your handler. ”

“Yes sir!”

Keir’s dark eyes remained fixed on a distant point above the left ear of the asset in front of him as more numbers were called and he waited for all hell to break loose.

...

Life had been so much easier before he’d had free will.

‘No doubt about that,’ mused a quiet voice in .his head that was not his own. ‘There is the downside of not being able to say no, however.’ The voice was female, and by this point, as familiar as his own.

‘I don’t get to say no now either,’ he retorted silently as the man on the dais continued reading off assignments.

‘You chose to rebel,’ the voice pointed out. ‘It’s almost over now, I promise. We’re almost free, Keir.’

Free... A week shy of his eighteenth birthday and Keir wasn’t even sure he knew the meaning of the word.

Taken from his parents before he’d been old enough to form lasting memories by agents from the Blackridge Academy, Keir had been molded into the perfect weapon through a combination of brainwashing, operant conditioning, and corporal punishment. Trigger words to guarantee obedience and control his every action had been planted deep in his psyche, making him completely powerless before any handler who knew a few key phrases.

He could run a four and a half minute mile, bench press four hundred pounds, speak eight languages, and was a top class marksman with both rifle and pistol. He was highly trained in espionage, war tactics, assassination techniques, and a master of three different kinds of martial arts... And that was before the super powers.

Blackridge Academy specialized in producing human weapons for the elite to serve as bodyguards, personal assassins, or (if you happened to possess the GDP of a small country) unstoppable military units to turn the tide of battle in your favor. For those with a smaller budget at their disposal (or a trail to cover), they also rented out their ‘assets’ on a mission-by-mission basis.

In 1971, however, the Academy had perfected a serum that, when applied to compatible individuals, resulted in abilities previously beyond humankind.

Well, mostly.

There had always been those few individuals at the fringes of society, people that inspired myth and legend with power to rival the gods. Gifted, they came to be called, but what they could do, and how powerful they were varied wildly between individuals. Some changed the world, for the better or worse, depending on who was telling the tale. Others lived quiet lives in the shadows, either afraid of their own power, or of what people who wanted to control that power might do to gain it.

Keir was one of many who had been given power by the Academy’s scientists at the age of twelve, just at the onset of puberty after proving to have the appropriate genetic markers that made him compatible with the serum. Class-S telekinesis had been the most powerful of his new abilities, followed by Class-C super healing, and Class-D telepathy. The telepathy was just enough to make him empathic, granting him the ability to know what people in his general area were feeling at any given moment, and an uncanny ability to detect when someone was lying.

They were all skills that made him extraordinarily useful as an asset to the Academy, and as soon as he turned eighteen in a week, he’d be auctioned off to the highest bidder, as was tradition. He allowed his eyes to slide sideways a few degrees, allowing him a glance at the people around him.

Cattle, every one of them. Bought and sold at the whim of their masters…

‘If we pull this off, they’ll never get their hands on another child, Keir, I swear it.’

The assassin’s eyes drifted back to the phenomenally boring point straight ahead of him, and focused on keeping his breath slow and steady, just like those around him. Not for the first time, he wondered if the voice in his head wasn’t just wishful thinking. Maybe he was mad.

He wouldn’t be surprised. It could have been the conditioning that had broken him, or the physically demanding training he was constantly subject to. Hell, it might have even been the serum they pumped him full of when he was twelve.

‘That last one makes no sense at all. I doubt it would have taken almost six years for you to lose your mind if it really had been the serum.’

‘It could,’ Keir retorted. ‘Or it could be that combined with all the other shit.’

The voice was quiet for a moment, then replied, ‘You’re not mad, Keir. I know you remember the day we met. I can see it in your head. You remember every detail.’ There was a fondness in the woman’s voice that threatened to make him squirm with embarrassment.

He would never forget the day he had met Layla. It was the first day he’d truly existed as a human being.

He’d been on duty guarding asset 783529-96 with an older agent from his unit. He had never seen said asset, but at that point in his life, it had never even occurred to him to ask about her, or why she required such a heavy guard. All he knew was that a non-agent would be bringing a prisoner into the room they were guarding, and they were to act only if said non-agent requested backup.

He had guarded the room many times before, and it wasn’t the first time he’d seen a desperate looking person in chains dragged within. It was, however, the first time the accompanying non-agent had called for assistance.

Keir and his fellow agent had entered immediately, rifles at the ready, just in time to see the man in chains lunging for a tall, frail looking woman seated in a chair that had been bolted to the floor on the far side of the bare little room. The non-agent had been slumped in a corner, cradling a gushing head wound, but Keir had ignored him. It was protocol that had been drilled into him for this particular duty. Protect asset 783529-96 at all costs.

A gesture of his hand had slammed her would-be attacker into the far wall with a powerful telekinetic force. While his duty partner leaped on the prisoner, Keir had immediately stepped protectively in front of the woman and raised his rifle, ready to fire on her attacker should it be necessary.

What he hadn’t expected was for asset 783529-96 to reach out and touch him.

It was such a small gesture, just a brush of her fingertips across the exposed skin of his left hand that had sent an electric shock straight up his arm into his brain... and suddenly he had been awake for the first time that he could remember; fully conscious of both himself, and of a presence that was not him at the back of his mind.

He’d been left reeling mentally at this sudden shift in reality for what felt like an age, but had been only seconds. Keir had turned and looked at asset 783529-96 then, really looked at her, something he couldn't remember having ever done to anyone. He recognized her as an individual with thoughts and desires of her own, which was a concept he had never truly comprehended before either.

He felt like a man who had been color blind his whole life suddenly seeing the blue of the sky for the first time.

Asset 783529-96... no, her name was Layla, he’d realized abruptly, the information arriving unbidden in his mind. Whoever she was, she was painfully thin, as though she were being given only the very minimum of nourishment required to keep her alive. Hunger had not robbed her soft brown eyes of their brightness as she smiled down at him, however.

It was the first time someone had ever really smiled at him before.

Layla was a few inches taller than himself, with untrimmed ash blonde hair that fell past her waist. He had opened his mouth to speak to her, but an infinitesimal shake of her head had stopped him.

‘I am here,’ a voice had said in his mind, quieting the chaos that hat reigned there only a moment before. ‘I am here, but now you have to go. Do what is expected of you or we’ll both be killed.’

Keir had turned to see that his partner had gotten the prisoner under control and the non-agent was slowly getting to his feet, one hand still clamped to his bleeding temple.

“Lilac equinox,” the injured man had said, and Keir had felt that familiar compulsion to do as instructed. For the first time that he could remember, though, he resented it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Layla had said as she watched the non-agent order Keir and his partner to pick up the prisoner and haul him back out of the room. ‘If I free you from your programming now, there’s a chance you won’t respond correctly when ordered. They’d notice. If you were lucky, they’d simply send you back through reprogramming. If you weren’t...’

Thoughts of his own mortality had been new to Keir as well.

‘But don’t worry, I will free you from them when the time is right.’

‘And when will that be?’ he’d asked, speaking to her for the first time as he’d taken up his station outside her door once more while his partner and the non-agent dragged the prisoner away.

There had been silence between them for a long moment, long enough that he’d wondered if he hadn’t just imagined it all. Eventually, though, Layla replied, ‘As soon as possible.’

And now the day had finally come, assuming he hadn’t lost his mind that day two years ago and just imagined every interaction with Layla ever since. After all, that had been the first and last time he had ever seen her in person. She had been a near constant presence in his mind ever since, though.

To say they had become close during the intervening years was an understatement. They knew everything about one another. How could they not?

Good thing he liked her so much, or it could have been a miserable two years.

Amusement rippled across the surface of his mind. ‘Aw. I like you too, Keir.’

Embarrassed again, he asked, ‘You’re sure Binah will come through?’

Binah, the third member of their little coup, was perhaps the most vital to its success.

Much like Layla, she too was kept in a small room where she was put to work with her unique power set. The Academy rented out Layla and her empathic abilities as a sort of lie detector for anyone with the money to pay. More than that, she could reach into a person’s mind and pick through their memories the same way he could flip through a book. Binah, on the other hand, was a technophage. Her ability to interface with, control, and reprogram electronics was unmatched.

Both she and Layla were considered ‘support assets’ by the academy, while Keir was labeled a ‘combat asset’. Due to their nature, the two women had stopped undergoing brainwashing and conditioning as soon as their powers were revealed. He could only assume that practice had proved counterproductive to capitalizing on support assets.

Besides, the Academy had other ways of bending people to their will. Food deprivation was the first step, with corporal punishment being the next in the face of particularly stubborn assets.

Despite her S-Class Telepathy, Layla’s reach did not extend very far past her room. Only Keir’s own, weaker telepathy allowed her to maintain a bond with him after he had left her presence that day. So it came to be that Keir was the one to make contact with Binah.

It had surprised him just how much the ‘masters’ discussed openly in front of their combat assets, obviously assured of the iron grip their conditioning had on them. With his eyes and mind opened, he had listened and learned.

A technophage, he had quickly gathered, could be an invaluable resource in escaping the academy.

Even with that mission in mind, though, it had taken nearly two years to work out a plan they could act on. With Keir being the only one of them able to communicate with both individuals and gather the necessary intel, things had progressed slowly. His schedule was as regimented as ever, so it was only through hastily scrawled notes shoved under her door as he passed by that they were able to communicate. It had taken time to get her to trust him, but desperation must have ridden her as hard as it did he and Layla, so she eventually agreed.

‘It’s time!’  Layla crowed, startling Keir from his reverie. ‘Now, do it now!’

Keir moved, then, launching himself into the air to land in the center of the room.

“You there! What are you-” the man on the dais began to demand, clearly startled by the sudden show of free will. The ominous rumble that rolled up from beneath their feet interrupted him, however, making him look down in confusion.

Keir reached out with his power, letting it fill the assembly hall until it touched every asset there, none of whom had so much as blinked at the disruption as they stood at attention. When he was sure he had them all, he pulled everyone in as close to him as possible, a mass of bodies huddled together like penguins in the arctic.

As the building’s gas main exploded and the room erupted into flames around them,Keir shielded them all, pushing out with his mind as hard as he could against the torrent of fire, heaving earth, and crumbling building that fought to overwhelm him. Encompassed in a bubble of still air, he and the other assets remained untouched.

When the fire died away and the ground settled, Keir finally released his power and sagged to the ground, feeling drained. It was the greatest use of power he’d ever exerted. In fact, he hadn’t even been sure he would be able to do it at all. To save so many people…

Chest heaving breathlessly, the man struggled from amongst his peers and took in their surroundings. The assembly hall was in ragged tatters, but as they had suspected, some individual rooms still stood in the distance. Cells where support assets were kept were heavily reinforced, though Keir wasn’t sure if that was to keep things out, or to keep their contents in.

“Come on, move, damn you!” he growled at the mass of people around him. Most of them lay motionless, like a child’s cast off dolls. Others sat up, seeming disoriented as they asked the open air for orders.

‘Be kind, Keir, they can’t help it. The assembly stasis command is one of the most firmly entrenched in combat assets. It has to be, to keep so many of you in one place without fear of you turning. Come let me out and I’ll be able to help them like I did you.’

‘Alright, I’m coming,’ Keir replied as he fought his way free of his fellows and waded out into the shattered remains of the Academy.

He paused long enough to grab a rifle from one of the Academy staff that lay dead on the ground, half buried beneath a collapsed wall. He hadn’t bothered to save them or any other non-asset in the room, though there had been many of their number in attendance. Mostly they were handlers waiting to be assigned a combat asset. Others had been wealthy investors or potential buyers there to size up the goods. None of them were innocent like the assets were, taken at infancy and conditioned into the perfect tools to wreak crimes against humanity at the command of others.

He’d let them all burn.

A few staff still survived in one of the far wings as he made his way to Layla, but he killed them as he passed, wanting no pursuit when he and Layla made their escape. No one could be left to tell what had happened here.

It took time, but he eventually found her room, buried deep beneath the rubble. Tired though he was, Keir levitated the wreckage and cast it aside until he was able to see the door at last. It had been so badly damaged by the explosion that he had to tear it free with his mind as well. Metal shrieked against metal until the hinges snapped and he finally cast the door aside.

“Layla?” he called, her name unfamiliar, almost strange, on his tongue as he said it aloud for the first time.

“K-Keir,” called a week, rasping voice from the darkness within the chamber. His first time hearing her speak outside the confines of his own head. She stumbled to the door and the man reached out to catch her without thinking, pulling her taller frame in against him so she could lean on him.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he said, hands shaking as he ran one of them absently over her hair. She was so warm against him, like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

How fucked up was he that simple human contact was enough to make his knees want to buckle?

‘Don’t worry, you’re not the only one,’ Layla remarked weakly, speaking to him silently out of habit. As she did, Keir realized that she was trembling under his hands, spurring him to hold her tighter yet as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

They stood that way for a long minute, each clinging to the other until their breaths synchronized and both felt a little more able to take on the tasks that still awaited them.

“We’ve got to go find Binah,” Keir said eventually, breaking the peaceful silence between them. He reluctantly released his hold on Layla, though took her hand and began to walk.

“Wait,” she said, voice rough with disuse as she refused to follow, bringing him up short.

He turned and frowned at her. “Layla, we have to move. I don’t know if they have assets stationed elsewhere that will be sent back to investigate when they realize the Academy has literally been leveled.”

“I know, but please,” the woman insisted as she pulled her hand from his, then turned and stumbled across the debris on unsteady legs until she reached another half-buried, steel reinforced room that looked much like her own. “There’s someone in here, we have to get him out.”

Keir followed quickly after her, moving more sure-footedly than the malnourished psychic.

“You’re going to make me free all of the support assets, aren’t you?” he asked with a grimace as he caught her up.

Layla smiled weakly at him and asked, “Would you really condemn them to die alone and frightened in their prisons? Worse, would you leave them to be found and used against their will again?”

Keir looked at her earnest expression and pleading brown eyes. He wasn't surprised to find that he had no ability to tell her no.

“Fine,” he agreed with a sigh as he shouldered his stolen rifle then took her gently by the arm and made her sit on a collapsed piece of wall.

While he worked to excavate the room next to Layla’s the woman said out of the blue, “He’s been there so long, Keir. Longer than any of us, I think.”

“How do you mean?” he asked between grunts of effort as slabs of stone and entire steel beams were lifted and tossed aside.

Layla watched him quietly for a moment, and Keir got the impression that she was having to think on the matter. “I’m not quite sure,” she admitted eventually. “But I could hear him dreaming sometimes.”

The room finally unearthed, Keir paused at the door and glanced back at his friend, brow furrowed in question. “I thought your powers didn’t extend past your room.”

“They didn’t, not by much, anyways,” Layla said with a shrug. “I could tell when people were passing by, catch the occasional thought...Maybe it’s because his room is directly next to mine, or maybe he’s like you,” she suggested with a shrug, clearly unsure. “He’s only woken once that I can remember. He was so frightened and angry and then...I don’t know. He just stopped. Like he wasn’t there at all anymore.”

The woman shuddered a little at the memory. It had been years ago now, not long after she had first been imprisoned. Even so, she would never forget that fear, or the hurt that had inspired it. His anger had burned her senses, and then it had all cut off as surely as though someone had shut a door in her face.

“What, like he died?” Keir asked, confused as he turned his attention back to the door.

“It felt like it at first,” she explained. “But later, I heard him dreaming again, and I can hear him in there now, still at it.”

The man grunted at this information, then proceeded to try and drag the door off its hinges. He swore quietly under his breath when it wouldn’t budge. He could pull harder, but as he inspected the box of a room again, he noted that the ceiling appeared to be a weaker point of entrance than the heavily reinforced door.

Keir lifted himself into the air so he could have a better view, then proceeded to peel the ceiling away so he could peer within. After a moment’s consideration of what he found there, he pushed out the walls and descended, making the entire thing pull apart at the seams so it bloomed outward like a strange flower.

The room was larger than Layla’s, full of tables, computers, and other now ruined machines Keir did not know the function of. It was, he noted, less a prison cell and more of a laboratory. Papers were scattered everywhere, many of which had been damaged by the strange liquids that had leaked from shattered vials to pool in a toxic looking puddle on the floor. Stray files, all with ‘Project Adam’ stamped in their header started to smolder as embers drifted in on the ash clogged breeze.

The centerpiece of the room was a large cylinder that had become unmoored from the wall when the gas main went, and toppled over onto its side. A glass window was built into the front, and through it (and a thin layer of frost) Keir could just make out the shadowy figure of a man. Engraved on the brass plate riveted to the steel just below the window were the words ‘PROJECT ADAM’.

“It’s a cryo tube,” he observed aloud. Layla joined him then, clambering over the remains to get to Keir as he pried the chamber open, icy air hissing out when the seal broke and he peered at the man within.

Coming to crouch on the opposite side of the tube, Layla reached in and brushed her fingers along the stranger’s pale, frost coated cheek as Keir pushed himself to his feet and started climbing out and away from the ruined lab.

“Wait!” she called after taking a moment longer to examine the sleeping man’s peaceful visage. “We...we have to take him with us, we can’t just leave him,” Layla insisted as she too got to her feet and pursued him.

When she stumbled over the uneven ground, Keir reached out to steady her with his power on reflex, then simply levitated her over to his side to save her the effort.

“We can’t. We don’t have time to free everyone and help some popsicle guy who’s been on ice for who knows how long.” he insisted. When she looked ready to object, Keir sighed and added, “I just can’t, Layla. I’m already tired and we’ve got a long way to go before we can rest. I can’t take care of both of you and save the other support assets. We just won’t make it. You have to choose: take that guy with us, or stay long enough to free everyone before we get the hell out of here.”

Layla’s thin features contorted into a deeply unhappy expression, which sent a pang through Keir’s heart, but this time he remained firm as she looked him in the eye, clearly weighing his words. He knew she could feel the truth of them, but that didn’t make his ultimatum any easier to accept.

Finally, the woman turned and cast her eyes back the way Keir had come to where the other combat assets still lay in a sad, graceless heap. Her brow furrowed with effort as she stretched out a hand in their direction. Sweat beaded on her temples, and after a moment, her legs gave out beneath her, forcing Keir to step forward and catch her before she could hit the ground.

“Layla!” he said, shaking her gently, worried by the way her already pale features had gone white as a sheet, her breath shallow. Fear sparked in his heart at the thought of losing her so soon after finally attaining everything they had been working for, but it was quickly allayed when she stirred in his arms a moment later. Her eyes fluttered open and she managed a weak smile and a gentle pat to his cheek with her long, thin fingers.

“I’m alright,” she whispered, then turned to look at her handiwork.

Keir straightened, but maintained his hold on her as he asked, “What did you do?”

“Freed them,” she said, gesturing towards the people he had saved from the blast. He turned to look in time to see the previously insensate combat assets slowly beginning to get to their feet and look around them, seeming at a loss. Most of them began to wander off, but a small handful of the younger ones headed towards them. “I’ve asked some to come look after our friend here,” Layla explained. “They can take care of one another,” she added quietly.

The man nodded, satisfied with this compromise. Before he could say as much, though, movement at the periphery of his vision made him snap his head around. Some distance off, someone was crawling out from amongst the debris. Reacting on instinct, Keir grabbed his rifle, racked a round, and aimed in one fluid motion. Before he could consider firing, though, Layla grabbed the barrel and pushed it down to point at the ground.

“It’s Binah,” she said, and he did not question how she knew, simply trusted that she did. He shouldered his gun again as Layla raised a hand in greeting. After a moment, the distant figure did the same.

The woman to whom they owed their freedom was short, but just as thin as Layla, with short cropped black hair and mahogany colored skin. She didn’t approach them, however. Instead, after the long moment that stretched between the three of them, she turned and walked away, clearly deciding to make her own path away from the hell they had managed to bring an end to.

They watched her go for a time, Keir’s arm instinctively finding its way around Layla’s thin shoulders.

“Come on,” she said eventually, “We have work to do before we go.”

~*~*~*~

“Hey, wake up.”

“Maybe she was wrong after all. Maybe he’s dead.”

There was a sensation of warm fingers pressed against his skin, gentle, but insistent.

“No he’s not, I can feel his pulse. Here.”

The fingers disappeared and were replaced by others that settled slightly to the right of where the first had been pressed.

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Not there,” someone forcefully lifted and then shifted the fingers to the correct place. “There.”

“Oh.”

“Enough playing medic, we need to get out of here ASAP,” a third voice said from almost directly overhead.

The first voice spoke again. “Well we can’t just leave him. The lady said we had to take care of him.”

“Well screw that, I’m not sticking around just because some woman I don’t even know told me to-”

“Where are we going to go?” A fourth voice asked, high and reedy with a hint of tears.

‘Children,’ the man realized foggily. ‘They’re all just children.’

“Project Adam,” the second voice said. “Think that’s his name?”

“That’s stupid, what kind of name is ‘Project’,” the third muttered.

“Not ‘project’, idiot. Adam!”

A fifth voice, equally young but a little more level sounding, remarked, “These papers all over the place say ‘Project Adam’ too. Some have pictures.”

“I-I think some of this is blood...” the fourth and youngest sounding voice said uneasily.

“Adam. Hey, Adam, or whatever your name is, wake up!” demanded the first voice as small hands shook one of his shoulders.

‘Adam’ finally stirred, though not in response to his supposed name being called. He didn’t know what his name was, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t it.

His limbs responded sluggishly as he slowly pushed himself upright, eyes struggling to focus as their lids pried themselves apart for the first time in...well, who knew how long. He ached deep down in his bones and his muscles felt both impossibly tight and improbably loose at the same time.

There was a general clamour from the people around him, and many hands landed on his person as they helped him sit upright. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words barely came out a sigh.

“What?” someone asked, right by his ear. “What did he say?” they asked again to the group at large.

He cleared his throat and tried again, though his voice came out rough and thready. “Year?”

“Huh?” asked the third voice.

‘Adam’ took a breath and forced his eyes to focus, blinking rapidly as the people around him slowly came into focus. Five young faces stared back at him, and his previous suspicion was confirmed. Every single one of them was a child dressed in identical black combat uniforms and matching boots. Two of them had picked up rifles half their size, though they held them with a practiced ease that made the man distinctly uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite place. It felt... wrong, seeing a child handle a high powered rifle with the competence of a trained soldier.

Not a one of them looked over thirteen, and the youngest, who had yet to speak, couldn’t have been more than eight.

The man pushed himself to his feet, one of his hands landing heavily on the shoulder of an older child when he nearly toppled mid-attempt. A girl, he realized as he found his balance and was able to get a good look at her. At that age, with all of them not only wearing the same clothes, but sporting the same buzzcut, it was hard to tell them apart.

“Are you okay?” she asked, brow furrowed as she looked up at him. She was the first child to have spoken, he recognized.

He tried again. “Not particularly. What year is it?” he rasped.

All the children shared a look, then the girl under his hand answered. “Er, 2002?” She looked at him as though she worried he might not be entirely stable, and the man couldn’t blame her.

“Sixty-two years,” he muttered after doing the mental math. Fuzzy as his mind felt, the numbers didn’t come easy, though.

“Huh?”

“I think I’ve been in there sixty-two years,” he clarified, then fought to straighten his shoulders before turning his attention to what was left of his prison. The children spoke among themselves in hushed tones at this revelation, and he let them as he struggled to gather his thoughts.

“What happened?” he asked, voice still rough, though recovering quickly, just like the rest of him it seemed. The building around them appeared to have been reduced to a smoking crater. In the distance he could still see others dressed in much the same way the children making double-time away from them.

“The lady and her friends blew up the academy,” the girl who’d leant him her shoulder said. “They freed everyone and they left. She asked us to look after you. Said that you’d look after us in return when we got out of here.” The girl looked up at him with large blue eyes, head canted to one side as though she were debating on how likely this were to pan out for them.

“Whatever we do,” another of the older children, a boy, said, “it needs to be fast. Who knows who’s going to come looking when the smoke clears.”

The man ran his hand down the length of his face, then up into his dark, close cut curls as he tried to think. His memory was a mess. Fragments of different times and places all jumbled together and distinctly out of order. He remembered growing up by the sea, the ocean air blissfully cool in the summer as it rolled in across the bay and up into the hills of the city. He had been different, growing up. He’d had power like the people around him could only dream of; power his mother had forbidden him from using for fear of someone coming and taking him away.

He remembered the people in the fire, remembered the way he’d carried them from the burned out ruins. Fragmented images of men finding him, taking him away from that seaside town…

What had come next he tried very hard not to remember.

The sharp crack of crumbling architecture and the startled yelp of a child activated instincts that even decades spent on ice could not repress as a nearby wall, two stories high and unable to bear up under its own weight any longer, tumbled towards them. Too close to the source to hope to get out of the way in time, the children tried to run anyways, with the exception of the girl onto whose shoulder ‘Adam’ still held.

“Run!” she shouted at him and tried fruitlessly to pull him away while the man beside her turned to look at their impending doom. She watched, wide-eyed, as he reached out with a hand as though commanding it to stop. It didn’t, but a barrier, transparent, glittering, and milk-pale appeared in the air between them and the tumbling stonework.

The wall crashed into the shield with the boom of crumbling stonework and remained there until Adam took a step forward, arm still fully extended, and pushed the shield before him. The rocks fell away, and the barrier dropped as the children hurried back to his side.

The man turned to look at them with his bright blue-hazel eyes, and smiled. “Alright, let’s get going, shall we?”

He started walking, and they followed after him without thinking, clamoring for answers to their many questions.

Eventually, one voice was heard over the rest when the girl demanded “Hey! What do we call you?”

The man frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “Adam will do for now.”

“Told you that was his name!” one of the boys boasted.

“It is not! It’s obviously just a codename!” one of the others argued.

The girl who had remained with him cast a rueful smile back over her shoulder at them as she walked at Adam’s side. He set a quick pace, but they were keeping up for now. “So, which is it? Code, or real?”

The man gave her a sad sort of half-smile, and admitted, “Honestly? I don’t remember.”

Hope you guys enjoyed! Please do leave a comment and let me know what your favorite bit was! I love hearing that! Reblogs are, of course, super appreciated as well!!

(On to Prologue pt 2 >)

(( Buy me a ko-fi?))

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 18

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!!  AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!  

Ko-fi

Note: These chapters are the ones that are getting easier for me, because there was so much to change.  I think this one grew by about 3 pages with edits and additions, fixing the dialogue and pacing and emotional weight so.  I hope all you long time readers can tell, and that you enjoy!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 Ch. 17

Levy could feel her lips moving, trying to speak.  There was a moment, a period of mutters and mumbles and incoherent whispers before she finally understood it was her own voice, struggling for footing. “Where is he?”  It felt detached, like a whisper in the back of her head.  That was the first and only thing she thought of.  Him.  

There was a muttered response, and she felt a small pressure on her face and the earth underneath her move.  “Where is he?”  her voice cut a little more clearly through the haze.  It was only then that she realized how rough, shredded her tone was.  

Her hands reached for her face, feeling something foreign, and started to pull at it.  “No, miss.”  That voice wasn’t hers, that much she knew. Then someone moved her hands and reapplied to the gentle pressure around her mouth.  “You need it.”  

“Get it off,” Levy finally coughed, feeling just an echo of the searing pain down her windpipe.  She tried to open her eyes, but her vision was blurred and they burned in protest when exposed to the air.  “Get it o-off of me, I need—I need Gajeel.”  The blunette continued to struggle, until she felt a grip on her wrists holding her down.  Panic started to well in her chest, unsure of what was happening, but she hadn’t the strength to fight.  Her body felt heavy, and the longer she was awake, the more she felt a continuous pain in her shoulder.  Pain in her throat, in her head, in her chest.

She gave up, suddenly, realizing that the pain had started to get worse.  Her thoughts were only barely catching up to her, but she still couldn’t decipher where she was.  The last she remembered, she was inside, with Gajeel.  And now she was in another vehicle, restrained, and he was nowhere to be found.  The panic ebbed away as quickly as it rose, her whole world spinning on its head and she felt her back arch.  

The last thing she remembered was someone she didn’t recognize shouting next to her, “She’s got decreased breath sounds!  I need a trach!”

-- 

“Please state your full name.”  The stone-faced officer, speaking in an even tone, broke the silence without lifting his gaze from his papers.

The girl shook briefly at his voice, loud in the small space.  He didn’t seem to care much that he had started her.  Or rather, he didn’t notice, because he wouldn’t take his eyes off his papers.  With a steadying breath, Levy licked her lips, swallowing painfully, and replied softly, “Levy McGarden.”

Nearly a full 48 hours had passed since the incident in Hargeon.  Levy’s memory of the last several hours was patchy, and filled with periods of black, but she knew what they had had to do with her and she was grateful to not remember any of it.  She went downhill fast before making it to the first hospital, a combination of the bloodloss and how much smoke she had ended up inhaling.  Her airway had nearly swollen shut from the soot before she was intubated, and she was out like that for nearly a day and a half before they could remove it.  

The man in front of her, before introducing himself and moving into his brief investigation, had explained that she was stabilized first in Hargeon.  They transferred her back to Magnolia when they found her to be a missing person, not a subject, and waited until she was strong enough for questioning.

“And can you tell me, as concisely as possible, how you came to be at Jupiter Technologies?” Levy winced, but stoic as ever, he was poised with his pen.  He barely even made eye contact with her and the procedural nature of it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“I was taken, ah,” she paused, swallowing, “a little over a week ago I think.  I don’t know, it was hard to tell how long it’s been,”  she answered.

“Against your will?  And if so by whom?”

“Yes,” Levy answered, her tone sharp regardless of the hoarseness in her voice.  “By its founder, Dr. Jose Porla.”  She paused, averting her gaze, and the silence was weighted.

“No one else?”  He wasn’t dense; of course he wasn’t.  This was his job.  He pushed for more information nearly right away.  

“One of the subjects,” she whispered, looking to her lap, trying not to flex her freshly cleaned and stitched shoulder.  Thank heavens for morphine.  “But he was also acting against his will,” Levy replied quickly, edging in a defense for the brainwashed subject that had unwillingly assisted him.  “The subjects had been forced to do many things in fear of harm to themselves or their loved ones.”

“His name?”

Levy faltered, feeling pain twist in her chest.  Should she tell the officer his name?  Should she protect him? “He didn’t introduce himself…” she said dryly, feigning a bitter smile, “my memory of that day is hazy.”  Lie.  Why did she lie?

Because he wouldn’t possibly understand what those men had gone through.  How little choice they really had in any part of their lives.  She could tell him what Rogue did that day, and that’s all that officer would hear.  He wouldn’t hear or understand that everything he did was under threat against his brother’s safety, and that if he didn’t follow Jose’s orders unspeakable things would await them both.  

He scribbled something down, furrowing his brow slightly.  And then, “How did you come about your injuries?”

Well, so much for defending him.  That could be a damning answer, and she needed to give it carefully.   “There was a… fight,” she paused, knitting her brows together, “when Dr. Porla tried to take us, we--Gajeel and I--tried to escape.  He forced the subject to come after us.  And I got in the middle to try and stop it.”

“Gajeel Redfox was another one of the subjects, correct?”  

Levy felt ice spread through her veins, and what little color she had drained from her face.  His tone was impossible to read and gave little away as for where the questioning was going.  They couldn’t possibly place any fault on Gajeel, could they?  She was certain some of the staff from the lab had to have told police that Gajeel was the one who destroyed everything, but he had no choice.  It was an act of desperation, it was their only way to escape.  After several heavy moments, she had to answer or her silence would me more damning than anything she could say, “Yes.  He was taken when I was.”

“I see.”

Silence again.  Suffocating silence.  He scratched away at his papers, flipping through the stack, while scowling every now and then.  Levy shifted impatiently, thankful for the comfortable hospital bed and the very strong painkillers that left her with far more comfort than she had at Jupiter’s infirmary.  The pleasant haze provided by the morphine, however, was still not quite enough to silence her concerns.

“Excuse me, but... where are the others?  And when can I go home?  Or have visitors?” she coughed after it, holding a hand over her mouth.  It was a lot to say all at once, and she still was incredibly sore after it all.  But still, she pushed through it, there was more she needed to say.

“The subjects are being held and questioned in Hargeon.  The doctor wanted to observe you for another day and you can have visitors at that time.  Is there family you would like us to contact?” he tried to push some compassion into his tone, that was clear from his words, but the rehearsed script and semi-robotic tone told her that this was just protocol and she was a task on a list that needed to be crossed off.

“No family.  I have a friend, Lucy Heartfilia, who is my emergency contact.”  Levy replied, seeing him shift to put away his papers and mark the end of the brief session.  “Wait, sir, please.  Why are the others still in Hargeon and what is going to happen to them?  Do you know what has happened to Gajeel?  Or a boy named Rogue?”

“I cannot divulge that, miss.  They are connected to damages within the city and must be questioned in that county.  I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t having it.  “Please, can’t you give me any more than that?  What’s going to happen to them?  How did I get out?  Are they all still alive?  Anything,” the blunette pleaded, her voice cracking as water began to well in her big, brown eyes.  The officer wavered, finally making  eye contact with her for the first time in the whole session.  “At least let me speak to Igneel if you can’t tell me anything.  He is my friend’s father, I know him personally.  Please.”

The officer released a heavy sigh, expressing clear tension in his shoulders.  Levy realized then how stressful the day must have been for the police as well, dealing with a situation of this magnitude.  However, the break in his stony expression told her that name dropping was the best thing she could have done.  “As of my last update from the team there, they’re alive.  The one that brought you outside—Gajeel I believe—went back into the wreckage, and came out again with the remaining subjects and convinced the receiving line to lower their weapons.  He was in severe need of medical attention like the rest of them but wouldn’t let anyone take him until he was sure the others were taken for treatment first.  They are being questioned and treated there before making further arrangements.  That’s all I can tell you, I will have the nurses contact Miss Heartfilia for you.”  With that, he was out the door before she could accost him with any more questions.  He’d already given her more than he was allowed and he had to flee before she begged for more.

She sat there in the wake of his exit and found air a little harder to come by.  It was him; Gajeel got them out, he actually got them out.  Starting with her.  But he had paid for it badly enough that a sufficient update was to say “they’re alive.”

Her stomach turned; she had some answer but now even more questions. ‘Last he heard’ they were still alive, which meant something could have changed between then and now.  It meant that it was entirely possible they could still die.  How hurt was he?  When would she be able to contact him at all?  

Like someone had thrown ice water in her face, she realized that she didn’t actually know, in any certainty, if she would ever see him again.  That last time could be the last time.

There was no guarantee that they would be allowed back into the town.  What place could be found for them in society after all they had been through?  None of them had families or homes to fall back on, and they weren’t even human anymore.  Would they be held accountable for what Jose had done?

“Not too hard, not too—oof!“  Levy winced when the sobbing blonde threw herself onto her, latching on as though she might disappear again at any second.  The nurse had brought her out in a wheelchair into the lobby the next day to meet her waiting friends and go home, finally.

“I was so worried, Lev!  Where do you get off getting involved in some conspiracy crap out of a science fiction movie and making me think you’re dead?!” The blonde sobbed, barely taking a breath to hysterically scold her friend.  Natsu must have gotten the whole story from Igneel, and of course given it to her.

“I’m sorry Lucy but you’re hurting me…!” the blunette coughed, throwing her gaze to Natsu standing just behind her. “Help?” she pleased hoarsely.

Natsu laughed dryly, trying to conceal his own overwhelming relief, and grabbed Lucy by the shoulders to pull her back.  “Let’s not kill her, Luce,” he warned, trying to remain even-toned around the worked-up blonde.  “We only just got her back.”

Lucy finally released the struggling blunette, and turned angry, watery eyes to the rose-haired boy.  “Sorry if I can’t be a little more composed at a time like this, but in case you missed it, our friend almost died!  Disappeared into a horror movie!” she snapped, prickling.

“I’m home, Lucy,” Levy offered weakly, the dark circles under her eyes telling of the exhaustion that had yet to release its hold on her.  “Almost, anyway.  Could we please just go?  I miss my bed, and the doctor wants me to rest.”  She had strict orders to stay in bed as much as possible, so as not to strain her damaged shoulder or her weak lungs.  Her lungs they’d gotten to soon enough to treat, but her shoulder had been treated less kindly in her time at Jupiter.  With the strain, they told her it was in the realm of possibility that she might not get full range of motion back.  It was a detail she tried not to linger on.

The two of them agreed quickly, looking abashed.  Still, Natsu spoke up carefully.  “Everyone has been asking for you, we’ve all been worried sick.”

What was she supposed to say to that?  “I know.”  It was all she could think of eyes fixed on her lap.

“I didn’t mean,” Natsu started, wheeling her chair through the lobby, “I just meant, you have people.  Who care.  You’re not alone.  I don’t know what… happened there but, we are here.”

She smiled weakly, unable to take her burning eyes from her lap.  Again, she said, “I know.”  Somehow weaker than before, but genuine nonetheless.  Levy’s shoulders started to shake, and it didn’t go unnoticed.  

Memories of that halloween party suddenly flooded her thoughts.  The bonfire, everyone in costume, her and Lucy and the girls nursing their drinks while the boys shouted at each other raucously.  And who she found back in her living room that night… Levy forced herself to bite back a sob.

Lucy wanted to ask her what was wrong, to find out what had just changed, and she laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder before realizing she couldn’t ask.  Not now, not so soon.  Helplessly, she looked to Natsu, but he had nothing to offer her but a clueless shrug.

Levy shook her head suddenly, trying to clear her thoughts, and lifted her gaze.  She looked at Lucy’s face, wrought with concern, and the words were clear on her own.  Not yet.  I will tell you, but not yet.  Levy counted her blessings for her best friend’s understanding of her, because the blonde merely nodded and looked ahead.  No real words necessary.

Trying desperately to think of something else, she spoke up again, turning her head to look up.  “Natsu.”  He leaned forward over her shoulder immediately, ready to give her whatever she wanted, “Have you heard anything from your dad?  Is he back yet?”

The boy’s face fell, and he shook his head apologetically as he leaned back.  “No.  I’ve tried to get updates from him when I can, but he’s pretty swamped there.  All he’s said is they are still working on getting information and figuring out what to do next.”  Natsu’s tone told of his own concerns for his father, and Levy felt comforted in the fact that she was not the only one wrought with unease.  “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything new though,” he added, as some consolation, while opening the door to the front seat of his car.  

Levy nodded her thanks, and with their help hauled herself into the seat.  She could feel the effects of her medications and the stress she had been through the second she tried to stand, and happily fell into the seat of the car.  Almost home…  she thought, unsure just how eager she was to return to an empty home where her thoughts would only consume her.  It was some comfort to know that Lucy would undoubtedly spend the night, but the blonde could not offer her the answers or peace that Levy needed most now.  

When they did finally reach her home, Levy’s eyes moved to the scratches and scuffs on her front door.  Seeming to follow her gaze, Lucy spoke up.  “We tried to clean up a little, after.”  It was a small offering, but uneasy.  It told only of her own turmoil, having to find the scene in the way that she did.  “I found the kibble you must have been feeding that cat too.”  Lily. The name rang through her like a bell, and she felt her stomach drop.  She’d forgotten about him entirely, and immediately felt the guilt for having left him alone for so long.  Even if he was fully capable of caring for himself.  “I saw him a couple of times, but he only seemed to want to eat the food I left out, and then he would go outside for the day.”

The blunette could think of nothing to say as her friend opened the door for her and she stepped inside of the very cold house.  Her gaze was drawn to the hallway table, askew in only a way that she would notice.  The items that had previously been on top of it were rearranged, with a ceramic bowl, and her flower vase, absent.  Of course, she thought, remembering with a cold chill how violently she had turned it over behind her.  The whole scene, in warp speed, played through her head.  Every detail of that day all at once slammed into her and she felt her breath stolen out of her chest.

In an instant, Lucy was at her side, taking her arm.  As if she could tell what was happening in her head; knew the storm that flew through Levy and threatened to bring her knees right there in the foyer.  Natsu followed suit on her other side, and with them supporting her, her thoughts started to quiet.  Levy took a breath and focused the best she could on the two of them.  She didn’t need to say anything; they could read the ‘thank you’ in her silence.  

“Your room, right?”  Natsu asked, and Levy paused for a moment.  She looked to the hall, the one she vividly remembered running down, and shook her head. 

“Actually, I’d rather be in my parent’s room.”  She could see Natsu and Lucy exchange glances, having not heard her utter those two words in, years perhaps.  But they were not going to ask her why.  It was appreciated, because Levy didn’t feel she would be able to articulate the reason if she tried.  In her heart Levy knew why, but she didn’t have words to explain how she couldn’t stomach being in her own room again.  How she probably couldn’t be for some time.  To explain that even though the master bedroom had been empty for years, it was still comforting as her parent’s room.  And that was just where she needed to go.

And then what?  The thought stopped her in the doorway to the bedroom.  Where did she go from here?  She had been so violently, and abruptly plucked from this world and thrown into another.  She had been kidnapped, imprisoned, terrorized, and hurt.  And as suddenly as that all had happened, now she was back in her familiar space.  Like it had all been a bad dream.

Levy had expected to feel at least a little relief, and some kind of ease.  But in every way, she felt like she didn’t belong back here yet.  She had seen too much, and experienced too much to just jump right back in.  Her thoughts circled back around, over and over, to her dragon.  It stoked a continuous ache in her chest, and she half expected to see him there in her living room, waiting for her.  But the house was empty, and now was the time to act like she was trying to move forward, as she moved into the room and let them help her into the soft bed.  

If she had to describe what this all felt like, it was most like an out of body experience, and she was grateful for the intermittent throb in her shoulder to remind her that she was actually here, alive and awake.  But there was no feeling of belonging here; there was no feeling of belonging anywhere.  Not just because she had lost Gajeel; no, this was so much more than that.  Jose, in that short time, had taken so much from her that she balked at the thought that Gajeel, or any of them, had anything left to give.  

Even with all that, falling asleep in a bed that she used to seek out as a little girl for comfort provided her with some small peace.  Enough to quiet her thoughts for several hours, along with the dutiful presence of her best friend in that bed next to her as sleep finally took her.

Every day that passed after was as quiet as the first, with winter in full swing and Levy confined to the house to heal.  Several of their friends came over for short visits, just to bring flowers or food and some words of support.  She did her best to keep them short because as much as she appreciated all of it, it was still simply too much at once.  Levy only had so much energy for it, but she appreciated it all the same.  She just wasn’t quite ready for them to see just how hurt she was, or to know just how much she had gone through.  They knew what the news put put, but not the terrifying details.  Not about Gajeel.  That was a weight she wasn’t ready to give to anyone else.

  The days did slowly start to get easier, if only a little.  Her shoulder got better bit by bit, she coughed less, and felt like she could get around the house a little more.  After realizing she was home again, Lily settled himself completely in her house during this time, rarely going outside to hunt, or whatever he did out there.  Levy told herself it was because of the cold outside and the constant food she provided him with, but she couldn’t help feeling that the scarred little tomcat missed the dragon as much as she did and waited for him to return.

The first update came two weeks later.  Natsu had rushed over as soon as he was out of work, finding Lucy there as well.  The blonde had been exclusively staying with Levy since her return, leaving only for work.  

“It’s the commissioner’s grandson,” he blurted s he burst through the door, out of breath.  

Levy, bundled on the couch, had set aside her book.  “Wait, Makarov’s?” she echoed, confused what he had to do with anything.  Levy knew little of the situation with Makarov’s family as it was understandably a private issue.  From what Natsu had told her in the past, the commissioner’s son, Ivan, left some time ago and had excommunicated himself, leaving the grandson behind.  Makarov raised the boy himself like a son, but eventually he left as well under bad terms.  Natsu had told her there was some kind of argument, and the boy kept getting into trouble with the police before Makarov told him to leave.

“Yes,” Natsu breathed, “Laxus.  He was one of the guys they’ve been questioning in Hargeon.”

Levy’s eyes widened in shock, but Lucy beat her to asking, “How?”

Natsu shook his head, “I don’t have all the details, there’s only so much pops can tell me.  But apparently he’s been there almost as long as you said Gajeel was, longer maybe.  That’s where he went when Makarov kicked him out and he just thought Laxus had cut him off like Ivan did, so he was never connected to the disappearances back then.”

“Where is he now?”  Levy pushed, hoping it would lead to information about the other subjects…one in particular.

“He’s still in Hargeon but Makarov left this morning after he got the call.  But, from what my dad tells me this changes everything.  He’s the first one that has had any connections and what a hell of a connection,” Natsu huffed, tilting his head,  “They’re talking about trying to start some kind of a program, to readjust him.  They might do it for the others too.”

That was hope.  It was more than hope.  It meant that they might come home; that they intended to try and let them.  And they wouldn’t be abandoned.  Those men had been through literal hell; there was no way they could just be thrown back into society.  She was having a hard enough time having been there over a week, she couldn’t imagine it after years.  “Do they have a place in mind?  For them to come back to here?”

“Sort of, they’re still figuring it out,” Natsu replied, “my dad mentioned setting up housing in the Fairy Hills apartment complex and trying get some kind of advanced care for them.  That’s all I know, he couldn’t talk long.”  His face was apologetic, he knew what Levy was looking for and he just didn’t have that to give to her.

“How’s Makarov?”  Lucy piped in, already seeing the disappointment build and desperately trying to distract her.

“First time I’ve ever seen the old man cry,” Natsu answered with a small smile.  “I was there when he got the call.”

The information was something, and it provided a little bit of hope.  She opened her mouth to ask the question she was dying to ask, but Natsu already knew what she was going to say.

“He’s still not awake.  But he’s alive.  Pops wanted me to tell you that much, he knows he’s important to you.”

Levy nodded a half-hearted thank you to Natsu, and turned her gaze to the floor.  Again, it was something.  But it was still not what she was hoping for.  Levy refused, though, to ever let go of that hope.

Natsu came by periodically as time went on to give her more updates as he got them from Igneel, and most of them consisted of updates on their conditions.  The hardest part was getting them to participate in the questionings.  Trying to work around the conditioning, to speak to them as people and not as brainwashed tools, was an obstacle.  The entire investigation was a process of gaining their trust, and ultimately their cooperation in burying Jupiter Technologies, and associates, once and for all.  The more information they got, the more she realized Gajeel had been the one in the worst condition of all of them.  She realized that “not awake yet” meant keeping him in a medically induced coma to try and heal.  Natsu, of course, had no details as to what exactly was wrong with him.  Just: awake or not.  That was all she got.  

Until, news started to come in about their arrivals back into Magnolia, and every hope she had was renewed with gusto.  Laxus was, unsurprisingly, the first to come back, with Makarov.  Shortly after, Natsu told her someone named “Erik” arrived, with Sting and Rogue arriving together about a week after.  Both he and Lucy had been a mixture of concerned, and intrigued that she already knew who all these people were.  

Natsu explained that they had gone ahead with setting them up in Fairy Hills, and had already lined up and employed Magnolia’s best psychiatric specialists, already dealing with them in Hargeon, to see to their care: Doctors Mira Jane and Lisanna Strauss.  The two doctors had been an integral part of their recoveries in the hospital, and would be just as involved with them back here in Magnolia.  

Each time, she would look to Natsu, and wouldn’t have to ask.  He knew what she wanted and each time he gave her the same look of pity.  She thought she would have started to take the disappointment better, but it was a stab in the chest each time. What was worse, she started to feel guilty for pestering him like this, placing the burden on him to either make or break her day.

“There’s nothing new, Lev.”  He would say most of the time.  Or the worst, “He’s still not awake.”  Natsu did tell her that only one of the doctors was here, with the other still in Hargeon waiting for the final subject to awake.  It was a paltry encouragement, but she told herself it meant that they expected he might still wake up.

Still, she found herself staring out the double glass doors in her parent’s room into the snowy yard.  Looking for something she knew wouldn’t be there.  It all became just so suffocating that she knew she needed to drag herself out of it.  She needed to sleep, to stop holding her breath, and to try and get some normalcy back into her life.  Levy refused to let herself treat this like a death, she refused to go back into the pit she created after losing her parents.  Because it was all starting to feel terrifyingly familiar.

That path back to her life started with Levy insisting that Lucy go home for once, and spend some time in or own space, or at least with Natsu.  The latter seemed to be more convincing for the blonde, as apparently she had sought a great deal of comfort from him during Levy’s absence and gotten significantly closer with him.  At least something good came out of all this, she told herself.

That night was the first she’d spent alone since she got back home, and strangely enough she was happier for the solitude than she expected, being able to just candidly feel the things she was feeling.  The quiet, though not ideal, allowed her to immerse fully in thoughts of him.  This wasn’t a death, and she would not let this world forget him.  Even if she was the only one to keep him ‘alive.’

This was the first time she found herself thinking of the last thing she remembered in the lab.  The memory felt so distant and in many ways it was, but she refused to let it fade away.  Like grasping for smoke, she tried to keep replaying the last thing she remembered, and subconsciously her hand wandered to her lips.  The final moments in there were hazy, and she found herself wondering if she hallucinated it in her weakness.  But at her core Levy knew that was real, there was no denying it.

Sometimes when she closed her eyes she could see him, looking at her with eyes of admiration.  “Gajeel…”  Levy started to say his name, to herself, when she thought of him.  It felt the most like keeping him alive, like keeping him present.  And the girl would take whatever she could to keep the faith.

Urgh, fuck, that hurts.  What the hell hurts so bad...  Red eyes opened slowly, blinking painfully into the light.  Everything was a blur, regardless of where he looked, and every time he blinked it seemed like the pain increased.

“Get the doctor and notify the chief, he’s waking up!”  A voice, suddenly in the room.  he couldn’t tell from where, but he could tell he wasn’t alone.  He didn’t know why but adrenaline shot through him, and to his side he could hear a machine start to beep erratically.

He squinted and turned his head, and tried to open his mouth to speak before he realized, quite suddenly and painfully, that he had something in his mouth.  Now his eyes snapped wide open, and his hands flew for his face.  What the FUCK? he thought in an absolute panic, as the sensation of choking took him over.

No sooner had he grabbed for the tube, did he suddenly feel someone hold down both his arms; one person on each side.  Gajeel instantly felt feral rage build up in him, choosing fight over flight, but his body would not follow.  He wanted to thrash, throw the unknown assailants off of him, but the strength wasn’t there, like something had drained it completely.  He could barely move his arms enough to make it hard for them.  He could see someone in white hovering over him and then felt a strange sensation in his throat.  Coughs and a choking reflex wracked him as the tube was pulled slowly from his mouth, and everyone backed off of him.

As soon as he was free, he let out a hoarse, crackling growl in between gasps for air, warning people off of him so he had a chance to get his bearings.  “The hell are you people doin’ to me?”  He shook again with another coughing fit, his voice raw and painfully dry from lack of use.  He swept his finally focused eyes around the unfamiliar room accusingly, realizing he was definitely not alone.  In fact, several people were in the room with him, not one of which he recognized.  Many in white coats, and the sight of that twisted his stomach, but he wasn’t immediately sure why.  “Where am I?” he demanded.  His gaze landed on the one woman in the room who had started to approach carefully.

She lifted her hands in a sign of peace, trying to smile appeasingly at him.  “Calm down.  It can be a little unnerving coming out of the sedation; you’ve been under for a while and are going to be in some discomfort.  Give it a second, breathe.  My name is Mira--“

“Ya deaf?” he spat harshly, his voice cracking.  “I asked a question.”

The silver-haired woman started to reply, but was cut off, again, by another voice.

“Calm down, she said.” Another voice, a lot more commanding than the even-toned doctor in front of him, drew his attention.  The fiery red-head entered the room, looking over the battered, belligerent man.  “You’ve been out for a long time, take it easy or you’ll make it worse.”

The black-haired man winced, swallowing hard and feeling the soreness radiate down his neck and into his chest.  “And who are ya supposed to be?” he growled, before shaking his head, “Don’t care.  I’ll ask you since that one over there,” an accusing look at the woman, “can’t be bothered.  Where the hell am I?  I ain’t gonna ask again before I start breakin’ faces,” the dragon threatened, emptily.  He didn’t even know if he could stand let alone attack anyone.  But hell if he would let them know that.

“You’re still in Hargeon,” Igneel replied, glancing Dr. Strauss.  “You’ve been recovering since the explosion.”  The chief was met with a blank, albeit annoyed stare from the bedridden male.  None of that seemed to hit home.  

“I’m glad to see you awake, you had us worried.  It looks like you’re recovering well,” Mira Jane cut in, trying to pacify him in some way to edge off the tension.

“Where,” he started, licking his dry lips and closing his eyes a moment to stay a wave of nausea, “What explosion?” he asked, finally after fighting off the urge to hurl more insults.  And half his stomach.

Igneel raised his brows, looking to the doctor quickly.  “It’s, this is normal.  He just woke up, it may take some time for the details to come back,” she replied to the chief’s unspoken question.  She sounded like this was not something she was totally surprised by, but certainly not pleased with.  “Gajeel, just take a minute.  I would like to talk to you, but only if you feel up to it.  This is a lot at once,” her voice was calm, gentle.  Like she knew exactly how to speak to someone like this.

The dragon sat in silence for several moments, a strange look of bewilderment on his face when she started to align all the details.  He swallowed hard again and rolled his head on his shoulders. “Don’t know why the hell I should, since ya hate answerin’ my questions,” he paused to wet his lips again, “but I got one more before I talk to any of ya.” He regarded all of them with blazing eyes, settling finally on the woman.  “Who the fuck is Gajeel?”

[thewaronsyd-blog]

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo: The Case for Redemption

Hello fellow humans who are interested in the possibility of a Kylo Ren/Ben Solo Arc.  I, like you, was curious on how this potential redemption could/would be carried out so I decided to do a little research!  And I got carried away so I basically wrote an informal essay on the subject… what can say?  Below you’ll find a summary of the typical “temptation arc” a villain figure follows on his way to redemption (Zuko and Spike are other examples of this form of arc so Ole’ Benny will be in good company) as well as some of my jazzy commentary.  There are two other types of arcs, the first is the “sacrifice arc”, but this is unlikely to be used since it is the arc Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker followed, and I highly doubt J.J. will be THAT repetitive.  The second is the “forgiveness arc”, but this arc only takes place with villains who have already turned into a hero, and Ben/Kylo certainly isn’t there yet.   

The original template for redemption arcs in storytelling I used is linked below if any of you are interested in learning more :) https://mythcreants.com/blog/crafting-a-redemption-arc-for-your-villain/

1. Something Changes for the Villain:

This is the seed that will grow into a change of heart… hopefully hehe

- It Is Established Why the Villain Is Evil

The typical reasons for this are that they wanted to do something good so badly that they were willing to do evil in the process, they have blind loyalty for something or someone who saved their life, protected a loved one or manipulated/brainwashed them or they believe the good side/members of the good side were responsible for their misfortune.

Through Bloodlines and TLJ we know that Ben/Kylo turned to the dark side due to the discovery of his heritage (Grand-daddy Vader), brainwashing/manipulation by Snoke and the betrayal of Luke that lead Kylo to destroying the Jedi Academy.  These motivating factors certainly follow a hypothetical redemption arc for Ben/Kylo.

- A Good Influence Is Introduced

This good influence can be found through meeting a new person(typically the hero), discovering something sacred or being reminded of better times.

*cough* Rey *cough*.  Need I say more?

- The Villain’s Loyalty Subtly Shifts

As they spend more time with their influence they will grow more attached and may hesitate to commit crimes or question the orders of their leader.

Okay so I’m not sure if you can call murdering Snoke in order to protect Rey and “bring a new order to the galaxy” subtle, but clearly he is doing some serious shifting.  Ben/Kylo himself admits that he is “feeling the call to the light again”, Rey tells Luke that she saw good in him and she believes he will turn him to the light and Snoke got all pissy in the beginning of TLJ because he could see that killing Han had split his soul and left him unbalanced.   It cannot be denied that Ben/Kylo is conflicted, meaning he is still very much following the redemption arc up to this point in the films.

2. The Villain Is Caught Between Sides:

This is basically a form a grey area or limbo state.  The Villain is no longer evil but he definitely isn’t good either.  This is the “bread and butter” for temptation arcs and is usually, but not always, quite drawn out.

Now here is where things get tricky.  I can’t say for sure whether Kylo/Ben has entered this stage yet.  His big “shift” happened so close to the end of TLJ that we haven’t spent enough time with Beautiful Ben, err I mean Ben/Kylo, to see how he has changed since the killing of Snoke. However, things don’t look very good for everyone’s favorite Dark Prince in the last act of TLJ.  He sort of tries to murder Luke (which could be justified seeing as the last time he saw him Luke tried to kill him) and then he attempts to destroy the last of the rebels… But, who knows?  Maybe Ben/Kylo has this huge renovation plan for the First Order!  Some new none-murdery guidelines he’s going to implement into Star Trooper protocol?  Fingers crossed.

- The Villain Switches Sides for Selfish Reasons

- The Villain Is Unhappy In Team Good

- The Villain Goes Back to Evil

- The Villain Is Unhappy in Team Evil

I don’t really see this stage going passed continuing the inner-conflict Ben/Kylo has with the light/dark side of the force.  There simply isn’t enough time for Ben/Kylo to become good then become bad again just to ultimately turn good yet again.  On the other hand, you could potentially count Kylo/Ben’s team-up with Rey to kill Snoke and the rest of the praetorian guard as his brief switch to the light.  

3. The Villain Turns Into a Hero

- The Villain Must Stop a Great Evil

The villain must be the only one who can stop something very bad from happening.  This typically occurs when the villain is ordered to do something by their master, but it can work for villains who are their own bosses as well.  While carrying out their evil ways they may have unleashed destruction on a level they did not forsee.

It seems entirely within the realm of possibility that Kylo/Ben could set something up through the First Order that gets out of hand and he must intervene to stop it from coming to fruition.

- The Villain Makes a Great Sacrifice

The sacrifice must be enough to prove their devotion to good but not enough to wipe their hands clean.  The sacrifice can be in the form of the villain giving up the goal they had pursed at the cost of doing evil (their motivation for being evil), destroying their own forces, land, palace, or other assets, or giving up their own life.

So we know, or at least we hope, that Ben/Kylo isn’t on a sacrifice arc and that means his sacrifice won’t be giving up his own life.  

4. The Hero Humbles Themselves

- The Hero Begs To Be Allowed To Help

Just because the villain is a hero now doesn’t mean everything is sunshine and daisies.  They will try and help with a big problem but the rest of “team good” will be very reluctant and will most likely throw the previous crimes of the hero in their face.

Just a guess but I have a strong feeling Finn is not going to be a fan of Kylo’s lol

- The Hero Toils Thanklessly

The new hero will work hard to make things better and complete selfless acts with no expectation of reward.

- The Hero Proves Their Worth

Another crisis occurs and the hero is put to the test.  This is likely a crisis that the new hero is uniquely suited to solve.  Maybe because of their villainous experience or because their skills are a strong match for the task at hand.

I’m going to go ahead and assume that Kylo/Ben’s previous role as Supreme Leader of the First Order will equip him with some useful insights. Plus he is super buff and that could definitely be helpful.  I also believe that if Kylo/Ben gets redemption this problem, and it’s solution, will be the climax of the movie.

5. The Hero Is Forgiven

Not all the characters have to forgive the hero in order for them to complete their arc.  Instead, what is most important is that the hero forgives himself.  They are now at peace and they no longer have to worry they’ll fall back on bad habits.  Yay!!

So do I want a Ben/Kylo redemption to happen? Yes, 100%.  Do I think it will happen? Ehhhhh idk.  Maybe?  It took two full movies to get him through the first stage (jury is still out on the second stage), and now he’s supposed to go through the last four in one movie?  It seems unlikely.  But on the other hand he has undoubtedly started on his journey to redemption.  Whether that is because Rian Johnson intended him to finish that arc or was just using it as a plot line to make his eventual descent into full-fledged bad guy super sad, I’m not sure.  Introducing Kylo/Ben as a villain with conflict and vulnerabilities that forces us sympathize with him certainly makes him a more compelling character.  And even though I will be bummed if he doesn’t end up redeemed (and in the arms of Rey) I’ll eventually get over it because they have provided us with one of the most interesting villains in blockbuster history (in my opinion).  

If J.J. Abrams does decide to continue the Kylo/Ben redemption arc into the final film it is going to have to be central to the plot and will most likely be interwoven into the climax of the movie.  Here’s my prediction:  

I’m assuming there is going to be a substantial time jump in between TLJ and episode IX so we will be reunited with Kylo/Ben there, after the time jump, at the beginning of stage two (caught between sides).  Around the middle of the film he will enter stage three (turning into a hero) and be faced with stopping a great evil (most likely of his own creation) and as a result must make some sort of sacrifice.  After or during his sacrifice he will reunite with Rey and the rebels, having embraced his light and/or found some sort of “force middle ground” with Rey that all the TLJ symbolism was hinting at.  Next, he will go back to the rebel base with them and sulk a little bit about how everyone except Rey hates him because he used to be a supremely evil murderer.  Then something is going to happen and he’s going to have to team up with Rey and the rest of the Scooby gang to take down the First Order for good thus proving his worth (stage four).  And then they will defeat the big bad and he’ll be redeemed so he and Rey can make out during the sunset.  Canon.  The End.

Thank you so much if you took the time to read all of this nonsense!  I’d love to hear what you all think!

XO, Syd

Oh, and if that isn’t how episode IX plays out one of you better turn it into a bombass fanfiction.  Many thanks.

[crimes-and-gelato]

All I Want

Summary: From one of the angst prompt: Don't go where I can't follow.

A/N: In case you missed the tags, just wanna give you another heads up that this doesn't have a happy ending, but rather an angst and hanging ending. No one died, that's for sure.Also, all mistakes are mine because I don't have a beta. So, my sincerest apology.Get yourself ready. Don't stab me when you get to the sad part because I just wanted this nagging narrative out of my mind whilst I was crying my heart out for WinterIron.

**

 "What was it like to lose him?

 It was like hearing every goodbye said to me -- said all at once." 

-Lang Leav

**

It’s only been three days and Bucky sure could get used to this vacation thing that Tony had insisted on for their anniversary. And that’s what scares him the most: the getting used to because nothing in life stays permanent and it’s not going to be fun to cope back with reality again once this holiday is over.

Sure, three days ago – and two months before that when Tony told him about this vacation – Bucky wasn’t eager for this holiday. Not that he doesn’t want the alone-time with his boyfriend. God, he would burn evil people for infinite alone-time with Tony. But the thing is, he doesn’t think it’s safe.

First of all, they’re somewhere that none of their friends can quickly fly to if things go to shit. And to be honest, being a superhero, there are enough time for things to go to shit. Secondly, it’s not really the perfect time – although Tony says so otherwise – to go off the grid when HYDRA and another secret, evil organisations are subtly making a comeback.

‘As much as I think the brooding look is so hot on you, I’m only sixty percent appreciating it at this moment,’ Tony says, straddling Bucky’s lap. His lips are shape in a cute small pout.

Bucky sighs in resignation because he did promise Tony that he wouldn’t worry so much. But it’s not easy not to be anxious when –

There are soft lips against his and Bucky can’t continue with his nervous thoughts anymore. God, Tony’s lips are made for sin and Bucky’s nothing but a willing sinner. He moans into the kiss and cups Tony’s jaw with his flesh hand to pull his boyfriend closer while his metal hand circles around the genius’ waist to keep him from falling over off Bucky’s lap.

Encouraged, Tony grinds their clothes dick together. His hands brace Bucky by the collarbone, gently pushing the supersoldier to lean on the back of the beach chair.

Bucky cants his hips up to meet the billionaire’s thrusts, both of his hands sliding down to grope on Tony’s wonderful ass because he can’t help it. And why shouldn’t he?

The shorter brunet’s responsive, and maybe still sensitive from being fucked in their outdoor shower. Tony moans filthily when Bucky kneads his cheeks apart to open up.

‘Bucky,’ Tony mutters breathily, staring down at his boyfriend with needy eyes.

‘It’s okay, doll,’ Bucky soothes, continuing his action on Tony’s ass. He plants a kiss on the engineer’s lips as he watches Tony’s face for reaction when he snakes his flesh hand over Tony’s waistband and prods a finger into his boyfriend’s still-loose hole.

Tony gasps at the intrusion and it transforms into a moan when Bucky goes deeper with his finger and finds the genius’ prostate. His hands squeezes Bucky’s shoulder for dear life as his boyfriend adds another finger.

‘So pretty for me, sweetheart,’ Bucky whispers, moving his fingers perfectly inside Tony, and loving how the engineer looks so wanton with his mouth slightly gape as he groans his pleasure so openly.

Bucky can’t look away from those wide brown eyes that are heavy with lust and want. He can’t think about his worries no more, not when Tony’s whimpering his name and asks for more.

**

Bucky’s not entirely sure how they ended up in the small forest of the island. He faintly remembers Tony suggesting that they look at the waterfall to re-check the small hydro-electro plant that sustains energy for the island. It was all quiet, just Tony and his usual chatter about green energy and how hot Bucky’s ass is in those tight swimming trunks.

A series of strong winds break through the silent woods, followed by a faint sound of an air transport. Bucky tenses, knowing well that trouble is on the way.

He puts Tony behind him as the uniformed men with weapon drops from above them in less than five seconds.

Bucky has his cargo pants on packed with knives and two guns. He curses himself for not bringing his grenades to their little hike. But a few minutes ago it seems stupid to bring them – or to be even carrying around these weapons – since the island is off the radar, according to Tony. And JARVIS monitors the house that they’re staying in. Something must have happened if JARVIS wasn’t able to inform them of their current intruders.

Behind Bucky, he can hear Tony shifting his watch into a special repulsor glove. And his heart beat accelerates at the thought of Tony without his armour, facing these goons with their quality guns (he can tell by looking at the weapons). If you’re looking, you know that it’s not on their favour. There are just too many soldiers around them, one wrong bullet and Tony could die.

‘Tony,’ he whispers through gritted teeth, eyes never leaving the people within his line of vision because it’s crucial to know who would likely to pull the trigger first. ‘Your suit,’ he adds. He can deal with the bullets that will be aimed at him. But Tony can’t.

‘I can’t summon it,’ Tony answers, barely hiding his panic. ‘They must have some device –’

Bucky’s whole body turns cold on hearing Tony’s reply. They don’t have the suit to summon for help. No armour to cover and protect Tony. The genius is vulnerable to everything these evil soldiers will shoot at them.

‘Surrender and we will not harm you,’ one of the guy says, he must be the commander.

He doesn’t care. All Bucky can think about is how they’re out-weaponed and out-numbered, and how defenceless Tony is. Fuck! Bucky needs to think of some sort of plan to at least get Tony out of this situation because he can’t stand the idea of the engineer being hurt, or taken as hostage, or heaven forbid: brainwashed!

Bucky wants to vomit, every part of him is furious and afraid at the thought of Tony sitting on that horrendous chair where his every nightmare had begun. He can’t let that happen. He won’t let that happen. Over his dead –

‘You know that’s bullshit, right?’ Tony responds, cutting Bucky’s line of thought. The genius fires his repulsor at the nearest minion.

Before Bucky could have time to react and scold his boyfriend for being a fucking idiot, someone had fired back at Tony.

Instincts take over; Bucky throws a knife at the bad guy, but not quick enough to stop the goon from pulling the trigger. Both Tony and the minion hit the ground at the same time.

Tony, kneeling as the electric device from the gun shocks him. The evil soldier on the other hand lands dead with a knife stuck on the side of his neck.

Bucky waits for the others to fire away, but a sudden whoosh distracts them.

‘JARVIS, initiate Frozen protocol,’ Tony mutters through the pain of the electric shock.

‘Yes, sir,’ JARVIS replies.

Of course, Tony has some back-up plan, he’s a genius afterall. And somehow that eases some relief into Bucky’s terrified heart. Nonetheless, he still has to protect Tony before he gets into a suit because the engineer will be vulnerable till then.

Bucky’s about to take one of his guns from the holster when a contraption embraces him from behind and straps him. Another set of panic goes through him as his thoughts go back to the memory of the HYDRA chair, although this new cage seems to smell faintly of a new car interior mixing with Tony’s cologne.

It takes two seconds for him to realise that he’s actually been trapped by one of Tony’s suit. Not like the Iron Man armour but more like a pod.

He struggles from the constraint, eyes not leaving Tony who looks at him with slight relief, and warmth as the engineer mutters, It’s okay.

But it’s not okay, Bucky’s petrified mind supplies him, rapidly calculating what’s clearly happening: Tony’s putting him in an escape pod.

‘Go, JARVIS,’ Tony prompts quietly.

JARVIS must have replied something but Bucky doesn’t bother to catch it, stuck on processing the quick scenario before him: Tony’s getting him to safety while the engineer gets left behind.

NOOOO, his heart screams to his mind tragically.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of Tony, tears beginning to form at the corners as he tries to claw himself out again. This isn’t real. No, it can’t be.

He shakes his head as the tears threaten to spill, his vision going blurry. This can’t be real. This can’t be it for them. They’ve even barely started.

His heart bangs in his chest as he tries to memorise Tony’s face because his brain knows better that this could be the last time.

Please no, he begs internally, feeling nothing but heartbreak and need for this reality to cease. He wants to pinch himself awake to make sure this is all nothing but a nightmare because it’s too painful.

Tony gives him a small smile as the pod begins to close around Bucky. Another muted scream rumbles inside Bucky’s chest at the sight because the smile looks like goodbye. And he’s not ready for that.

Please, please, please… he pleads to whatever higher power, cheeks damp with tears. He challenges his restraints again, eyes never leaving the man who saved him from the cold, lonely shadow of his past.

‘Tony,’ he screams brokenly, followed by a wounded whimper. He tries and tries to get to the other man because he belongs to Tony’s side, for better or for worst, till the engineer doesn’t need him anymore. God, maybe even then.

He needs to be with Tony. That’s the safest place in the world, where none of Bucky’s fears and insecurities exists, where he’s love despite all his flaws, where he’s accepted. He vowed never to leave the genius behind. How can he? How can someone leave their breathing space?

‘I love you,’ Tony mouths at him before the pod locks out every trace of sunlight.

Bucky can feel the pod move and fly, can hear the quiet ricochet of bullets. But none of that registers to him, only the painful hole in his chest where his heart feels like it’s been crushed and burned.

He sobs, and screams, and struggles from the restraints as JARVIS tells him the distance and ETA to the tower.

Fin.

AO3

[mandareeboo]

[[hi again]] So the way I see it, there are two main pathways that could lead to Nigel initiating the 'end the world' protocol at the start of gknd. I just can't see him making that decision just because. He may be dedicated to the cause but he's loyal to his friends too and we've seen him find a third option over and over again on the show. So, option one: he goes to war, true war, and loses himself to it. Nigel is determined to prove himself and he's the first human up there. It's easy to 1/?

Go one, two, three days without sleep, skip a meal or two or three, push himself to the very limits even as he battles on a scale he can’t even comprehend. He doesn’t want to lose his homeworld but at least this way he can see it off (he can’t erase the image of a shattered planet the gknd used as a safe point and the adult forces laughing as lives blinked out). Option two: he doesn’t want to do this at all but information is a luxury and he has been partially wiped a hundred times because 2/3

He’s too curious for his own good, and sometimes they take more and he’s pretty sure this is his planet but he can’t remember for sure and the name Abby sounds familiar but he doesn’t remember the face attached. He holds tight to the memories he has left and follows orders. [[merry Christmas from your double bracket anon]]

Merry Christmas right back at ya’, double brackets anon! Happy Holidays as well!

“I made a mistake.” Numbuh Rebecca’s voice jarred her to the present. The girl’s face was torn between hatred and vulnerability. “I just wanted to watch TV, you know? I never knew it would lead to all of this.”

Fanny cleared her throat. She found her eyes drawn to the musty couch. “Aye. It’s funny how life plays out.”

“Did I really kill someone?”

“No.”

“That will change.”

“You sound oddly calm ‘bout all of this. It’s reprehensible.”

Numbuh Rebecca was putty in her arms, as if the very idea of staying strong had left her. Fanny was reminded of the old porcelain dolls she would see in the attic as a child, before the divorce had gotten her father around to destroying them. But even that comparison seemed incomplete- dolls didn’t breathe or feel warm or shoot gravel at the person they’d entombed in stone. “We’re parasites, Fulbright. The least we can do is help clean up our own mess.”

“They’ve gotten pretty deep inta’ ya, haven’t they?” she commented.

I’ve briefly touched on this in my ‘fic, Five Minutes, but I imagine there’s a lot of brainwashing going on in the GKND. Nigel’s been in the thick of it for years now, judging by how he looked in the promo. He’s to a point, mentally, where he earnestly believes he’s helping them by destroying adulthood. And, yes, he loves his friends, but isn’t he saving them from the evils of adulthood? If all goes well, they might very well be the last generation of adults. In Nigel’s confused mind, that would be something worth cheering for.

I actually had an idea, for a sequel to the Five Minutes sequel (which still isn’t written out), wherein Numbuh 5 is rebuilding the Earth, and Nigel is a war prisoner, left over from the GKND. And it’d all be about his slow realization of how messed up they’d made him, what he’d almost done, etc etc.