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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

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Tracinya - Rogue, Chapter 23 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

Summary: Nothing will stop you from rescuing Din. Anyone who stands in your way is merely an obstacle to be removed. But will you be merciful... or listen to that dark call?

Warnings: Injury detail, blood, guns(of the space variety), knives, fighting, swearing, death, watch me make things up about the Force again.

Word Count: 13k+ (I got carried away?)

AN: Well. This ended up a lot longer than I expected it to be. I got rather carried away it seems ((oh well)) Also, I have checked this ((twice)) but its over 13k words and there is going to be something I missed.

Introduction

Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @kenoobiwan @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal

Mando’a Translation: Tracinya - Flame

There was no part of his body that wasn’t screaming in pain.

His right leg was broken, possibly in two places, and his left ankle was fractured.

He had taken the fall on his right side, meaning the impact had dislocated his shoulder and shattered his collarbone, resulted in searing agony whenever he moved his head.

Not only that, but every breath felt like glass and fire, a pain he was familiar enough with to know he also had at least three broken ribs.

Of course, there were bruises – his entire body was probably littered with purple and black smudges – and cuts.

Din didn’t remember hitting the floor. Only remembered saying goodbye and then… nothing. He supposed he should be grateful, because from the state his body was in, the feeling of impact would have been horrendous, his body crushed under the very armour that was made to keep him safe.

He’d been convinced that was it, the lights were turned off and the Maker would come to greet him.

And yet, after an indeterminable amount of darkness… there was suddenly light.

Harsh, blinding light and hands moving over his body, checking for injury and –

They were going to remove his armour.

The thought and realisation sent shockwaves of terror through him, and despite the agony that had threatened to suck him under, survival instinct kicked in and he lashed out. Taking down anyone who came near him, the medics, the guards, Troopers – anyone who threatened to touch his armour. He was like a caged animal, defending his last dying breath even as his head spun and his knees gave way.

He fought for consciousness, long enough to see a pair of immaculate boots walk in, the edge of a long, ebony cloak embroidered with gold.

Through the roaring in his head, he heard a silken voice ordering everyone to stand down, that if anyone removed the amour, they would be removed of their head.

And then he had been sucked back into a fitful abyss

Din wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.

The room – cell – they had put him in contained no windows, no clocks, nothing to give him indication to what time it was. Only a few artificial lights placed on each wall – which he was grateful for, because the dim lighting was a minimal balm to his pulsating head.

Only a thin cot for him to sleep on, pushed into the corner of the room and a tiny area in the corner where he could relieve himself. The ceiling rose far above him, giving the impression of being at the bottom of a very small, very dark pit.

There was no regular pattern to when they pushed a tray of food and water through a tiny hatch in the door either, so he couldn’t even use that.

Not that he could have concentrated anyway, with the agony waging war on his body.

He’d had countless injuries before and danced the line of death so many times he was surprised he kept getting away with it.

And yet this… this was bad.

His vision kept fading in and out, blurriness making his sight hazy before it cleared again, but not without leaving fuzzy auras that floated in his peripheral.

Concussion too then… a bad one.

He just prayed there was no permanent damage.

He could still talk, though his voice was hoarse and ragged when he whispered to himself the names of his loved ones – he could still remember them, thankfully.

The ability to move remained intact – though heavily compromised. He could only manage tiny movements, embarrassingly slow as he tried not to move his neck or shoulder… or head… or back.

An escape probably wasn’t going to be possible for a while.

Din sighed, laying in an awkward position on his cot, one that gave the least pain.

Again, his thoughts returned to his haven.

You.

You were going to kill him when he got out.

Either for being a hypocrite, or for the worry he was causing you.

The worry, no… the heart-wrenching terror he had heard in your voice mere moments before he fell. That cruel fear of the consequences as you laid into him, tried to keep that anger contained but he knew you too well. Knew that this would be tearing you to pieces.

He had felt the exact same way when you were taken – when she died.

You were a rather dysfunctional pair, weren’t you.

That thought had him chuckling – and then groaning as the small movement sent shockwaves from his broken ribs.

Maker, he was battered.

He didn’t even know how it had all gone so wrong.

One minute he was flitting through the sky, dodging blaster fire and the next there was a loud pop and smoke began billowing from his back, from the jet pack.

A very carefully aimed shot, with precision and intent – not to blow him up by shooting at the fuel lines… but perfectly lined up to knock out the thrusters and sent him tumbling to Earth.

There was only one person he knew that could make a shot like that.

Someone he should have foreseen, if he was honest with himself.

Looking back, the townspeople letting slip the information about the base… that had clearly been a trap.

A false trail to lead them right to the doorstep of the very people trying to chase them down.

Din hadn’t just led himself to his death… but his friends too. He had no idea where they were, if they’d escaped – if they were even alive.

He was disgusted with himself, the way he had so easily and thoughtlessly allowed his friends to be brought to such danger. He should have just gone in alone but… he hadn’t been thinking straight.

When he’d heard that there was a whole base dedicated to finding his sweetheart… a whole legion of Stormtroopers trained, and no doubt given weapons specifically made to defend and attack Force users, he’d lost it.

How could he walk away knowing all of that? Knowing they were going to come after you?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

And now look where he was.

Movement outside his door suddenly broke him from his reverie, a shadow moving past the gap in the food hatch.

Something beeped outside the cell, multiple locks sliding and scraping through the door and then it was pushed open.

Din blinked against the sudden harsh light flooding his cell, his helmet damaged so his visor didn’t adjust to the brightness the way it should have done.

As his eyes cleared, he saw a figure lean and tall, wearing a long cloak – with golden embroidery.

Oh, joy.

Anger sizzled through his reluctant body as Haran prowled into his cell, filling the small room with that unearthly presence. The shadows of the room seemed to cling to him, perhaps recognising that their master had arrived.

Din grunted, ignoring the screaming agony that flooded his senses as he dragged his body to sit up, leaning heavily against where the two walls joined near his bed. If this was his end, he didn’t want to be laying down.

If it was a friendly little chat… well, he could at least give himself a better position to punch the bastard in that overly pretty face.

Haran stopped in the centre of the room, lifting gloved hands to his hood and he pushed it back.

He looked the same as always.

Sharp cheekbones accentuated his face, which was neither old nor young – timeless, for no one knew how long this man had truly been alive.

Amber eyes that dominated his appearance, simmering like molten gold and only highlighting the fact that he wasn’t quite human.

The twin scars across his mouth and eye did nothing to mar the beauty of him – and Din supposed that was all part of the act. A beautiful face, a silken voice and a laugh that could bring entire villages to their knees to worship this fallen dark prince.

Before he slaughtered them all.

Din hated him.

Those golden eyes simmered with amusement as he beheld Din, as if knowing the thoughts going through the Mandalorian’s head… which he probably did.

He cocked his head, a smile lifting his full lips, “Well, fancy seeing you so soon, Lori.”

Din growled, his hands tightening into fists and he wished his blazing glaze would melt through his beskar helmet and sear straight into those lion’s eyes.

That damn lovers laugh rippled through the tiny room, setting Din’s teeth on edge, “Oh, Mando, no need to be so defensive. You had to know what would happen when you decided to infiltrate a base dedicated to hunting your little Jedi.”

“You won’t find her.” Din spat the words, wishing his body wasn’t so battered, wishing his had his strength so he could tear this creature apart.

Haran’s smile widened, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, his scar tugging ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth – a predators grin, “That’s not entirely true, considering I found her so easily last time. But I won’t need to find her.” He examined his cloak, brushing a speck of invisible dust from it.

Dread coiled in Din’s gut, “She doesn’t know where I am. She won’t be able to find me, so you can’t lure her here like a piece of bait. She’s smarter than that.” With every word, he had the sinking feeling that he was saying exactly what the King of Shadows and Death expected him to.

“You see, I would believe you, if not for one tiny little detail.” Now Haran inspected his gloves, tugging the buckles that tightened them around his wrists, a picture of cool, arrogant confidence.

It was an effort for Din to keep his voice steady, “And what is that?”

Please no, please…

Haran looked up at him again, a dark curl falling over his forehead, “I hacked into your comms system, right as you hit the deck. You really should get some better tech, Mando.” He clasped his hands behind his back, “I sent a distress signal to your pretty Jedi, telling her your exact coordinates and even how to get in.”

Din simply made a noise of horror, knowing that nothing in the world would stop you from finding him. You were stubborn, headstrong and determined… all combined with a fierce desire to save the ones you loved.

He just prayed Ahsoka would make you see sense. You would be smart about this… right?

Haran shrugged lightly, “I don’t think even Tano will be able to hold her back.”

Sick bastard, reading his thoughts.

“I guess we’ll see who’s right soon enough, won’t we?” With that, he turned, walking back to the door, where he knocked twice.

The beep and locks sounded again, and Haran looked over his shoulder at Din, who was still struck dumb with dread, “Why, I bet she’s already on her way right now.” He laughed low, and then he was gone with a sweep of his cloak.

~~~

You were beside yourself with panic and terror in the first few hours after the call cut off.

Your scream had woken Ahsoka and the kids, who made it to your tree in time to see you half fall from the branches, stumbling around looking for something, anything to help.

You could barely hear Ahsoka calling your name, until she grabbed you, forcing you to look at her and calm down. You’d told her what happened, before yanking out her grasp and running to the camp.

Nothing was computing in your brain, nothing except a primal instinct to go and save Din right now.

Again, you hadn’t heard her calling your name, mumbling over and over that you needed to go, you needed to get out of here, Din needed you.

Except there was just one problem…

“Slow down. How are we going to get off of the planet? We don’t have a ship…” Ahsoka spoke calmly, but firmly. She was watching you tear through the camp, emotions a wreck and noting you were moments away from a panic attack.

You had turned to her, clutching your belongings in your arms, your breathing coming in sharp pants, “Then - then we’ll just… Um...” Casting your eyes about helplessly, you had felt your throat close up, your heart race and your palms start sweating.

A sob had been about to break from your lips but then – you both heard it.

The tell-tale sound of a twig breaking, of hushed voices.

The pair of you whipped your heads in unison, toward the sound and your panic attack vanished, being replaced with the cool ice of battle. The things in your arms had been placed on the floor and then Ahsoka’s voice had been in your head, “You go left, I’ll go right. We’ll meet in the middle.”

You nodded, reaching for your blade but then Ahsoka had held out a hand to stop you, instead… holding out one of her sabers.

Oh.

Yes, you’d trained with it but… now she was letting you use it for real, in actual combat?

Lifting your eyes to hers, she had seen what you were thinking and simply smiled encouragingly.

That said enough, so you curled your fingers around it and then the pair of you had separated, footsteps lighter than air as you both forged a protective Force field around the kids.

Moving through the trees, marking the intruders... it had all soothed you, soothed the ache and terror in your chest for the time being.

Your power let you know they were close, and you hovered in the darkness for a moment, watching the two cloaked figures and sensing Ahsoka opposite you. Something flowed through the air, like a confirmation and you activated the lightsaber, springing from your hiding space with a burst of glowing late.

“Wait!!! Wait, it’s us!!!” The two cloaked figures turned around, dropping their hoods so their faces would be revealed in the glow from both your sabers.

Cara, and another man you didn’t recognise – bald, with a numerous harness and straps that no doubt held weapons under his cloak.

You made a nose, lowering the saber, “Cara?! I thought… I thought you were with Lori – what are you doing here?” Despite the situation, the anonymous nickname for him came out instantly – protecting his identify even here.

Cara looked from you to Tano, who was still standing in a somewhat defensive position with her saber held out. “We were… We’d split up to take down more of the Troopers. Mando took to the sky to draw fire so we could sweep through them. When we saw him get taken down, we had a choice. Either get captured ourselves, or go and get help.”

You blinked, a frown forming on your face, “Hang on, let me get this right.” Something stirred in your chest, something smouldering, “You saw Din get taken down, saw him fall from the sky, into the clutches of Stormtroopers who are no doubt reporting to Moff Gideon… and you ran away?” The last two words come out in an incredulous tone, your face showing confusion as you looked between Cara and the other man.

He raised his hands, shaking his head, “Hey, I wouldn’t go as far as to call it running away. We didn’t know he’d contacted you; we didn’t know how anyone would find us. If we got captured too, there was no way we could get out. Only Boba and Fennec knew where we were, they wouldn’t have been enough.”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows, stepping closer – never lowering her lightsaber, “So, he’s there alone? Or wherever else they’ve taken him?”

The man blinked as he looked at her, “Do you mind lowering that thing, lady? I don’t see how we’re the enemies here.”

You snarled at him, mimicking Ahsoka in the closer advance, “I’m not calling you enemies, I’m stunned that you just abandoned him there!!”

Cara held out a hand, trying to diffuse the situation, “Mayfeld, shut up.” She looked at you, “Look, Mando isn’t incapable of taking care of himself. He’s been in situations like this before, he’ll be fine.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, your head spinning, “He’ll be fine?! He could be anywhere, Cara! Who knows where they’ve dragged him, what they’re doing to him! I’m not doubting for a second that he’s been captured before – but not by an army of Troopers, alone, after falling hundreds of feet from the fucking sky! How about I push you out of the open air in a metal tomb and you tell me if you’re up to fighting your way out of an Imperial army.”

Mayfeld squared up to you, tensions running high, “You know, you might want to be a little more understanding. I’m sure if the situation was reversed, Mando would have - ”

Suddenly, you had pulled free your knife and it was held to his throat, “If you dare say he would have done the same, I’ll cut your throat.” You didn’t care that these were Din’s friends. Didn’t care that they were obviously here to help.

You were furious, feeling helpless and well… you had never been the greatest at controlling your temper.

Ahsoka disabled her lightsaber, running forward and gently pushing you all apart. You felt a phantom brush over your skin and realised she had weaved threads of the Force between everyone, “Hey, hey, let’s all just take a moment to breathe, okay? We’re all worried and wound up… Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything.”

Mayfeld muttered something you didn’t hear, though you did hear the thump as Cara elbowed him in the ribs. “Enough.”

You powered down the saber and dropped your head into your hands.

The world had flipped on its head, completely and utterly shifted and turned into something unrecognisable. Maybe this wasn’t really happening, maybe you were having some kind of fever dream.

You sighed long and deep, rubbing at your eyes before looking at Mayfeld and Cara, “I’m sorry, for what I said. You did the right thing… We wouldn’t know anything if you hadn’t come back.” You shifted your gaze solely to Mayfeld now, “And I’m sorry for holding a knife to your throat.”

To your surprise, he just chuckled, shaking his head, “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse from your Mandalorian, this was nothing.” He held out a hand, “Migs Mayfeld.”

You found yourself smiling back, sliding your hand into his and shaking it as you told him your name.

Cara looked around, “As much as I’m glad we’re not threatening to kill each other anymore, does anyone want to tell me how we’re going to find Mando?”

As if by coincidence, the comms device on your wrist started to emit a high-pitched beep.

All four of you jumped, then looked at the device which had begun to flash red.

You held it up between you all, and the screen lit up, displaying a string of co-ordinates with that same persistent beep.

It dawned on you instantly, “It’s a distress signal. Lori sent us the co-ordinates of where he is.”

Cara was eyeing it thoughtfully, “Do we want to ask why that suddenly came up, just as I asked where he was? And what if he isn’t there by the time we get there?”

You were already moving back toward the camp to gather your things, “I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s a trap, or if he’s a whole parsec over. It’s the best thing we have, so we’re using it. Get your things.”

That had been a couple of nights ago. You were now travelling on Boba Fett’s ship, a tight squeeze but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered apart from finding Din.

Boba Fett was an interesting man. He was a clone of the infamous Jango Fett, the Mandalorian of whom you’d grown up hearing about. His armour was older, less sleek than Din’s but still as ruggedly beautiful and had belonged to Jango himself. He was shadowed by another woman, Fennec Shand – an assassin of whom you’d also heard of on your ‘travels’.

He was a straightforward, direct man, greeting you and praising you on the stories he had heard – then asking how everything was going to go ahead. Straight to business.

Two hours later, a plan had already been created.

The distress signal coordinates you had given Boba would take you to the general area you needed to be. Then, once you located the Cruiser, Boba would get you as close as he could, slipping into a disused landing bay.

He would remain with the ship and kids, waiting to get out – and to lead a distraction if it came to it.

The rest of you would infiltrate the Cruiser, splitting up to cover more ground and find Din – Cara and Fennec in one pair, you, Mayfeld and Ahsoka in the other.

You sat a little way away from the others – as far as you could in the ship, letting the sound of their planning wash over you. They were determined the best way to get in and out without being seen, whether it was best to go in all guns blazing – literally – or try and be as discreet as possible with minimal causalities.

You were glad you had excused yourself… because that dark assassin within you was stirring, sensing the oncoming fight – readying a thirst for blood.

Sure, some of the Troopers may have had no choice… but they certainly hadn’t done anything to change their fate. They still chosen to continue following Gideon and Haran – for you knew now it was him that shot down Din, but you had kept that nugget of information to yourself, only telling Ahsoka.

The others didn’t need the added stress of knowing a terrifying legend had truly come to life.

If they wanted to try and preserve life – fine. You certainly didn’t have to agree with them. You didn’t answer rot anyone but yourself.

And you supposed that mindset should worry you, making you concerned that you were slipping back to that cold killer but… you didn’t care. If you had to become her to save Din and get everyone out safely… so be it. You would deal with the consequences later.

Ahsoka crossed your field of vision, and then came to sit down opposite you, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out next to yours. She said nothing, merely watching you with an unreadable expression for a few moments.

You sighed, “If you’ve come to tell me not to go where my thoughts are leading me-“

She shook her head, cutting you off gently, “I’m not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I’m just going to ask you… Are you prepared for the consequences of what you do, either way? If you choose to go down the path of tearing down anyone in your way… How will you feel afterward?”

How would you feel afterward?

“I don’t know how I would feel… I know what it’s like to be pushed into a life but… There’s always a choice at some point. However small…” You looked up at her, truly valuing her opinions and advice – she was already a trusted friend, one you could speak your mind to.

Of course, you had Din. But to have something sperate from him… it felt good. Healthy. You both had your separate friendships away from each other… for moments like this perhaps.

“I can’t think of anything but saving him. And it’s easy to sit here and ask myself what I’ll do, before we’re even there… but when I’m in there, when I’m walking through that Cruiser to find him...” You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know what I’ll do. And I might not have the time to make that decision when I’m there.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly, listening to what you have to say, “Then whatever happens… We’ll deal with it afterward. Whatever you choose to do... I believe you are strong enough to take it. And if not… then we’ll deal with that too.”

Gratitude warmed the cold feeling in your chest, spreading through you and you looked at her with new appreciation, “Thank you…” Those two words were heartfelt, all the emotion and thankfulness pumped into there. “For this, helping me… and for everything you’ve done.”

She inclined her head slightly, bumping her foot against your thigh, “You needn’t thank me… It’s been an honour, to help you and train you. After everything that’s happened in my life, the mistrust I had for those I once believed in… I never thought I could get over that hole. But you’ve shown me that it’s not all the way I believed. Things are changing… I’m learning that now. So… thank you.”

You were about to answer, but Boba’s deep, gravelly voice came from the cockpit, “Time to gear up guys. We’re about to hit the same co-ordinates from the distress signal.”

~~~~

“Sir?”

Moff Gideon walked over to the young man who had just called for him, seating in front of a holo-screen like the others dotted about the room, “Yes? What is it?”

The man brought up a radar screen, a pulsing red dot just coming into the edge of it, “They’re getting closer. They followed the Hunter’s trap.”

Gideon smiled slowly, watching that little red dot slowly creep closer to the centre of the radar, toward his Cruiser, “Excellent. Tell the troops to be ready. Just because we want them here, doesn’t mean we’ll make this easy for them.”

~~~

Boba Fett’s ship glided through the atmosphere, all of you peering out of the windows for any sign, any hint as to where Din might be.

You’d been in the general location for about twenty-five minutes, travelling right to the edge of each grid square on Fett’s radar.

“I think… we might have missed him.” Cara spoke the words that you had all been reluctant to acknowledge, her voice quiet.

You shook your head fiercely, moving to the other side of the ship, “No. You’re wrong. He’s here. I know he is. I just… know.”

Grogu cooed from behind you, his ears floppy like they had been since you lost contact with Din.

You turned to look at him, heart breaking at the utter sadness in his glossy eyes, “Oh, Gu… I know.” You scooped him up, cradling the little body to your chest and you pressed a kiss between his ears, “We’ll find him… I promise you; we’ll find him.” You pressed your face to his little head, whispering, “Even if we have to do it on our own.”

His little arms reached up to your shoulders, and you took a few moments just to hug him, giving him comfort but also receiving it in return.

You felt his hands tugging at your collar and wondered if he was trying to reach for your hair… but then he grasped something and pulled – your necklace.

The mythosaur necklace that Din had given you.

You looked down at him, watching as he cradled the symbol in his tiny little hands, gurgling at it but for once, you weren’t sure what he was saying. It itched at you, like you could almost understand him.

It turns out, Ahsoka did. She gasped a little, looking at Grogu suddenly and blinking in surprise, “Oh, you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that…” She looked at you with wide eyes, “You can find him.”

You blinked at her, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” You felt Grogu’s eyes on you too, and he tugged gently at the mythosaur charm, “The necklace?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Kind of… You have such a strong connection with him, such intense care for each other that if you use your power… you might be able to sense him, where he is.” She walked closer, “It’s hard to explain… it’s an old Jedi trick. They used to use it to track others or find people in hiding. It’s difficult to do, and not all Jedi could do it but… You know him. Better than any of us.” She took Grogu from you gently, “Close your eyes and focus your mind the way we practiced.”

You nodded, not questioning it. There was no time.

You shut your eyes, following the breathing exercises she had taught you and dropping everything away from your mind. The ship, the murmuring of the others – the panic.

All of it fell away until you felt the power flowing through your blood, felt it brush up against every living thing in your vicinity.

Ahsoka’s voice slipped through your mind, “Now, think of him. The memories, the way he makes you feel, the happiness you feel with him. Think about what makes him your Mandalorian.”

Your power flowed through you, out of you, wrapping around the ship and you were already deep in your mind by the time it started shifting the direction you were facing.

What makes him your Mandalorian…

You let that question move through you, thinking of his touch, his voice… the way he softened the harsh edges of your mind and eased your chest.

The way you had truly come alive after meeting him, how you saw the galaxy as you had before – something beautiful and wild and begging to be explored.

You breathed in and out slowly, musing on the way you felt you had also brought light to Din’s life. Not just from the way he told you... but the way he seemed to have mellowed even more since first knowing you.

He laughed more, let himself go a little… His moments of uptight, rigid restraint had melted into something far softer and… goofier.

Ahsoka’s gentle praise whispered through the thoughts and memories, encouraging you. For however long, you didn’t know.

And then you felt it.

Your power brushed over something… someone.

Din.

His essence, his soul, burning like a bright star in your longest night. A sense of comfort, fierce loyalty and determination, all encased in a glittering shell of honour.

Your eyes snapped up, the ship slowing to a stop and then – there it was.

Moff Gideon’s cruiser.

And speeding toward you… about thirty Stormtroopers, ready to attack.

Mayfeld grinned from behind you as Duru leapt from the control panel, “Time to make an entrance.”

~~~

When Din got out of here, he was going to tear Haran into little pieces.

Well.

He would help you tear him into little pieces.

You had probably more rights than anyone to do so, but he had some things that the cocky shit needed to pay for.

Hey, maybe you could tag team.

Din kept thinking of creative ways to take Haran apart, to see if he was as strong inside as the power he oozed on the outside. It would be a fascinating project.

Maybe when you cut him open, he would be a hollow shell, or maybe there would be some kind of malevolent demon inside him.

He supposed these thoughts were rather twisted and dark, and that Haran had undoubtedly been through some awful things in his life… but so had you, and you were worlds apart from each other.

Besides, it was all he could do. Think of Haran’s death and try to avoid thinking of the alternative thing that was screaming at him like a siren.

That you may very well be on your way to rescuing him.

Din could tell himself for hours that you wouldn’t heed it, that you’d know it was a trap but… it just wasn’t you.

You were one of the smartest people he knew, but if anyone you loved was in danger, caution tended to get thrown out the window.

Sometimes, you were both more alike than you realised.

Din sighed, curling his fingers into fists and then releasing them again. A few hours ago – or maybe days? – he’d lost feeling in his arm. He couldn’t pop the dislocated shoulder back into place without removing his armour, so it was stuck there, swollen and pressing against the beskar. It had started with pins and needles, and then a cold feeling like ice in his veins.

It made him feel unsteady, lopsided – though that may have been the broken right leg and twisted left ankle.

Not only that, but every movement of his head made his stomach roil dangerously, and his breathing seemed to be coming laboured… more like sharp pants rather than deep breaths.

You were never going to let him live this down.

He huffed again, but the faintest smile rose to his lips as he imagined you both somewhere safe.

You’d wait long enough for Din to be suitably healed before tearing into him… and no doubt it would creep up for months afterwards. He could almost hear the cocky tone as you bickered about something and you’d whip that out, “Oh, well, I suppose I could always go an attack an Imp base and get shot of the sky. Stars above, can you imagine doing that? What fun.”

The thought made him chuckle, just a bit even though it irritated his ribs again.

Of course, that soft sound seemed like a siren call and seconds later, the door to his cell swung open and the King of Shadows and Death appeared – more like King of Arrogance and a limited wardrobe.

Didn’t he have anything else to wear besides that cloak?

Or was Din just jealous? His own cape was a bit tattered, and he’d always envied the way you wore your own hooded cloak, blending into the darkness and sweeping around corners like some kind of phantom.

Maker, his concussion must be getting worse.

Pushing that thought from his spiralling mind, Din tilted his head back to look up at Haran, “Are you lonely? Is that why you keep coming to see me?” He tilted his head, ignoring the feeling like boulders crashing against the inside of his skull and the bits of light dancing across his vision, “Or are you looking for a bit of nightly entertainment? Because I have to say, I’m hardly in the shape to do so.”

His tongue felt so heavy his mouth.

Haran rolled those unsettling eyes as the door closed behind him and he walked over, leaning against the wall opposite, “Yes, Mando. My days are just so meaningless without your shiny head to light the way.” He put a gloved hand to his chest, gasping, “Why, if we weren’t on an Imperial Cruiser, I might just drop to one knee and beg for your hand in marriage, right now.”

Prick.

Din turned his head away, breathing shallow as his stomach flipped again, “What do you want? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a rather busy man.”

Haran chose to ignore him, snapping his fingers together and pulling a face like he just remembered something, “Oh, wait. I can’t marry you, can I?” He looked up at Mando, golden eyes burning through the side of his helmet, “Because you already have plans to do that to someone else, don’t you?

Din willed himself not to rise to the challenge, not to take the bait. He instead tried counting his breaths, focusing on anything but Haran’s silken words.

They flowed like water around the small cell, almost irresistible, “Does she know? Does your little princess know that you’ve been carrying that ring around for months now?” He crossed one ankle over the other, “I have to admit, it is a stunner. How much did you have to save for a rock like that?”

Anger hissed through him, but Din closed his eyes.

Many jobs. He had saved the credits from… more jobs than he could remember.

He would bring home most of the credits but would siphon off just a little from the top to add it to the tiny stash he had going. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a ring with a huge stone like others he’d seen but… he had a feeling that you would love it regardless – at least he hoped. The ring had sat nestled in an inner pocket of his tight underlayer of clothing for a while now, and he could still feel it’s hard press into his skin. Thankfully it hadn’t been crushed in the fall.

It was new to him. Not just the fact he had reached this point in his life, but the fact he was looking for an engagement ring.

Mandalorian’s traditionally gave weapons instead but… you weren’t a Mandalorian. And the pair of you… this was different. And he wanted to do it right.

You had taken on board so much of his traditions and rules… he wanted to do this for you. Do something in a way that you would be familiar with.

Of course, there was one other major thing that was different –

“Have you even revealed your face? How do you know she’ll want to marry you? I mean, she loves you now but… What if you take off your helmet and she can’t stand you?” Haran examined his gloves, his words low and almost childlike but that was the point.

Din gritted his teeth, keeping his body loose – as much as it could be with the pain – “Seriously, are you here for a reason?”

Boom!

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the entire ship.

It echoed down the hall, but Din could calculate it was far away, deep in the belly of the cruiser so most likely a cargo hold.

Red lights began flashing outside of his cell, the sound of many thumping footsteps racing past.

No… no-

Haran’s eyes unfocused and a cold, dark power brushed against Din. Even through the armour, he could feel it. The way it leeched the warmth from him, swallowed what little light was in the room. It had a pull to it, like the silken caress of his voice given life.

Din shuddered, but Haran hadn’t noticed, instead feeling for something… someone…

His pupils dilated, black swallowing the gold and then he grinned, a cruel, delighted grin and his eyes came back into focus. He stood up, laughing, “Oh, Mando. I’m afraid your luck has run out. Your precious princess has just made her entrance.”

Bile rose up in Din’s throat and he shook his head, “No, you’re lying.”

Din knew he wasn’t. Knew it because he felt you. Every cell in his body was crying out to leave the room, to be reunited with you. Hell, he could almost smell your achingly familiar scent.

Haran advanced on him, crouching down and he took off his gloves, revealing a pair of slender hands – absolutely mauled with twisted, marbled scars.

Din couldn’t stop staring at them, at the evidence of some awful injury – fire, by the looks of it, “What are you doing?” He couldn’t move away, the pain too great and the room spinning. Horror flooded his senses – horror and relief.

He felt sick at the relief, because the last thing he wanted was you near any of these people, but at the same time… you were coming to rescue him.

He wasn’t going to die in here –

That power brushed against him again, slipping through the cracks in his armour and seeking out the injuries as Haran said softly, “The game is beginning.”

~~~

So, your idea to enter the ship discreetly… maybe hadn’t gone entirely to plan.

In all honesty though, it wasn’t your fault that you’d been attacked.

And it wasn’t your fault that the only evasive maneuverer that they wouldn’t be expecting was to lead them on a wild goose chase around the ship and then…. Crash into the cargo hold.

Okay, so Boba had been going for a gentle landing, but the situation had required some fast thinking and strategy and so… there you were.

Maybe it hadn’t been what you’d decided upon but… you had to admit, the explosion provided excellent cover for your teams to slip in.

Amongst the chaos, you weaved around the edges of the cargo ship and you were through into a service passageway, watching Cara and Fennec disappear down a hallway opposite.

The cruiser was like a maze.

You had no idea how long you had been navigating the halls, but you knew it was long enough.

Already, you had encountered a few Troopers, but they were silenced before they could raise the alarm – and stuffed into nearby rooms so they would be delayed when they awoke.

Mayfeld kept pace easily with you and Ahsoka, as you sent out waves of power to sweep the area, “They most likely have him in the cells. But if they know we’re coming… They would have moved him.

Somewhere more central, where we have no choice but to be in the open and vulnerable to attack. So, we should head toward the front of the ship, maybe.” He kept his voice hushed and his blaster aimed.

Ahsoka peered over her shoulder at him, raising her eyebrows, “Tell me again where you came from?” She had her other saber in her hand, held in her trademark grip as she moved like a shadow.

Mayfeld chuckled low, “Impressed?”

Seriously?

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, looking ahead again, “Please, don’t flatter yourself.” She shook her head, pausing and raising a hand for you all to stop too.

You pushed your power around the corner as well, combining with hers and you felt it.

A cluster of Stormtroopers gathered near a service room. They were standing between you and the next hallway and would need to be removed.

Focusing, you did a rough tally, “Nine of them. All armed.” You worked it through in your mind. You could take them – but there was still enough time for them to raise the alarm. Especially if they were near service rooms, they’d be able to signal to others and you would soon be ambushed.

Even without power, Mayfeld appeared to have done the same, “We need to draw them away, get them somewhere quiet.” He looked back the way you came, then to the right where there was a dead end.

Ahsoka sighed, shaking her head, “How? Any noise will alert the others. We need to - ” She broke off, having just seen what you were doing. “Where are you going?”

You had moved away from the safety of the wall, drawing the hood of your cloak up over your face. “You and Mayfeld get ahead, see if you can find a map or something in one of those rooms.”

Something dark thrummed in your blood, your palms itching with an intense need to… to make someone hurt.

Mayfeld rose an eyebrow, facing you as he kept his back against the wall, “Are you crazy? They want you as much as you want Mando! You can’t just walk out there like a party gift.”

A party gift that’ll explode in their faces.

Stars above, the very thought almost made you laugh with an unnaturally shadowed delight.

You indeed chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Exactly. What Stormtrooper grunt would pass up the opportunity to deliver Moff Gideon the very thing he’s doing all of this for? They’ll take me straight to him or throw me somewhere to wait. Either way, it gets them away from you.”

Ahsoka was watching you, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She didn’t agree with this anymore than Mayfield, but she too knew there was no other way. “Okay.” She ignored Mayfeld’s noise of protest, “Be careful. Try not to draw too much attention if you can help it. We’ll find anything we can and if you’re not back out here, then circle back to find you.” She was still watching you with that strange look – like she could sense something off.

You gave her a playful salute before pulling out another knife from your boot, rolling your shoulders and strutting around the corner.

Instantly, the group of Troopers turned around, guns raising as they beheld your cloaked appearance, and the shining lightsaber in your hand, “Hey! Stand down!”

You dropped the hood, grinning wickedly as you purred, “Hello, boys.”

You moved like a flame, tearing through the group of Stormtroopers and spreading your embers of death, ready to turn into a blaze.

The whir of the lightsaber was the conductor of your dance, providing a beat as your separated limb from limb. The deadly energy whipped through the air, severing one of the Troopers hands from his wrist and he went down screaming, clutching at the stub at the end of his arm which was smouldering. You didn’t hesitate, whirling and flinging a sharp, deadly knife from your hand.

There was a muffled, wet noise impact as it lodged itself in his throat, buried in the gap between the chest plates and helmet.

You didn’t know if Ahsoka and Mayfield were close, if they’d found a map – you didn’t care.

These men, these followers were standing between you and Din. Maybe they had been forced into it, but as you had said before. They made the choice to stay.

A yell sounded from behind you and a sharp blow to the middle of your back had you stumbling, the air knocked from your lungs.

You sucked in a sharp breath but before you could turn, the back of a blaster smashed your skull and you tumbled to the floor, fighting through the wave of nausea and the stars in your vision. The lightsaber was flung from your grip, skittering across the floor.

A somewhat altered voice hissed against your ears, a knee pressing to your spine, “You think you can waltz in here and take us all down? I don’t care what the boss says.” The muzzle of his blaster now jammed against the back of your skull, forcing your forehead to press against the icy, metallic floor and you bit your lip with the impact, “You are vermin. A monster. People like you shouldn’t exist.”

The dark creature within you snarled, and you spread your fingers of your free hand, the other caught up underneath you, “Didn’t your boss tell you?”

You heard him cock his head, “Tell me, what?” He dug his blaster in harder, right against the base of your skull.

A wicked grin spread your lips, causing them to split further but quite frankly, you didn’t care. The pain only aided in the focus, the hot blood nothing as it ran down your chin, “Watch the hands.” You lifted it from the floor, wrapping the Force around his throat and you gave him only a second to realise what was happening, before curling your hand into a fist and crushing his windpipe.

He choked, hands flying up to his throat but then he was instantly gone, slumping forward over you in a heavy tangle of limbs.

You groaned, shifting his body off of you, “Get off of me.” You muttered it uselessly, scrambling up and you scooped up the lightsaber, before turning to survey the hallway.

Footsteps resounded from both ends of the hallway, and you lowered into a battle stance, adrenaline still humming through your veins and numbing everything else, everything but the fight and the goal – Din. Along with the cool ice of battle… something heavy and alluring whispered to you, as black as night and hungry for more death.

White armour burst into your left peripheral and you whirled toward it, flinging a hand forward and then back.

The Stormtrooper was dragged off his feet, again trapped with the invisible pressure around his throat as he ground to a halt, legs swinging forward with the remaining force of him flying at you.

He snarled, scrambling at his throat, “You can’t do this. You won’t beat him, no matter what you believe.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back with a groan, “When they make you, do they implant some kind of need for all the dramatic bullshit? Honestly, whoever the first one of you was, he must have been an incredible bore.”

The Trooper thrashed about uselessly, his weapon falling to the floor and you sensed the glare through the black visor, “At least we have hearts. And maybe we’re all the same, but we’re more human than you are.”

Monster.

Ah, back to this, yet again.

Always back to this.

Your smile was angelic, your appearance anything but.

Long cloak hanging from your shoulders, battle suit fitted and black as coal. Your boots were stained red, the blood looking like ink on the dark leather.

As for your face, you sported a wicked bruise to your cheekbone, a long cut across your forehead and with the blood dripping down your chin, the wild fury in your eyes… You probably looked every bit the monster they said you were.

And you couldn’t care.

“You think I haven’t heard this one before? How I have no humanity, no soul… I’m an abomination that shouldn’t deserve to live, blah blah blah.” You shook your head, something deadly and shadowed twisting through your blood, humming in dark delight at what you were doing, the devastation you were feeding it.

There was a name for it.

You knew what it was, the siren call to step over the line that you were only too pleased to answer.

You’d deal with that later.

The Stormtrooper choked as you tightened the hold on him, obviously about to speak but then his head jerked, focusing over your shoulder.

The other footsteps – a pair. One heavy, one light and nimble.

Mayfeld, and Ahsoka.

You didn’t bother turning around as you heard them skid to a stop, Mayfeld sucking in a breath at the sight around you.

The fallen bodies of the Troopers, broken about and still smouldering, the blood coating the walls and the floor, the edge of your cloak trailing in it. The stench of death and the smell of molten plastic.

Mayfeld whistled low, “Fucking hell…”

You ignored them, focused on your prey, tightening that leash bit by bit.

It was like the very air around you was alive, more frantic than normal. Your power flared, tasting the death in the atmosphere, slipping through the ship like a poison and marking where each target was. Every single obstacle between you and your love.

You could feel their living souls, see them in your mind like glowing stars in the sky. You knew that if you went for them, you could close your eyes and still take them down as quickly and skilfully as if your eyes were open.

Is this how Haran was so good at killing? So skilled at finding people?

Without the distraction of sight and sound, you needn’t worry about the expressions on people’s faces, the noises they made as they died.

With your eyes shut, using this glittering map in your mind… they were merely lights to snuff out.

“If you follow this path… No one will be able to help you. You will have to make the choice whether to stay on it, or to fight your way out.” Ahsoka’s voice was a soft breeze in the night of your mind, softly lit in the same white as her sabers, of which one you held in your hand.

A symbol of strength… which you had used to destroy lives.

Your eyes opened slowly, gazing up at the Stormtrooper ahead of you.

A choice.

Seconds ticked by, seconds you knew were slipping away on the clock of Din’s life as you made up your mind.

The Trooper fell to the bloody floor and your voice was demanding, no room for argument, “Take us to your little master. I except he’ll be waiting.”

~~~

Booted footsteps rang out on the cold metal hallways.

The King of Shadows and Death could move like a whisper on the wind, as if the air itself parted around him and kept him silent.

But this time, he wanted to be heard.

He wanted the Mandalorian to know that his hope had been in vain.

He merely looked at the guards standing either side of the door and they nodded, one scanning the chip that would trigger the heavy locks in the door.

It swung open and Haran crossed the threshold, gazing down at the broken Mandalorian, slumped on his cot. He grinned, cocking his head, “Time’s up, Mando. Your saviour has come to rescue you from the enemy walls. Looks like you don’t know her as well as you thought.”

The Mandalorian growled, dried blood like rust on his beskar, “If you think you’ll walk out of this unharmed, you obviously don’t know her like you think you do.”

The last time Haran came to see him, he had healed his injuries just enough that Mando wasn’t permanently dancing the line between being awake and being unconscious. He did nothing to remove the pain, or the severity of them, but he had prevented infection. He’d also healed his legs to the point where he could walk – barely.

What good was a knight who fell before the Queen could finish the game?

Haran walked over to him, hauling him to his feet. The Mandalorian was the same height as him, so he gauged he was looking right into Mando’s eyes when he whispered, “I think I know her a lot better than you think. I can tell you that she would not have come here peacefully. And she would not have let go the people that stood in her path.”

Mando shook his head, trying to pull away from him but he was unsteady on his feet, the blood rushing from his head, “No. You’re wrong. She won’t listen to that call, to the... Dark Side or whatever it is. She’s walked that line before, and she’ll make the right decision again.”

Haran chuckled low, half dragging the beskar-clad knight out of the door, “Oh, I don’t doubt that she’ll make the right decision. But whether or not it’s right depends on which side you’re standing on.”

The Mandalorian groaned, hating that he couldn’t pull away from Haran, hated the weakness of his body, the unsteady, lurching footsteps of his still fractured legs and the armour that weighed down on his broken bones. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so obsessed with corrupting her? You’ve been living your sick little life for… however long it is now. Surely there’s some other person to terrorize?”

Haran scoffed, rolling his amber eyes, “You really need to get it through that thick skull of yours – I’m not corrupting her. I’m merely bringing back someone she’s tried to bury.” He looked over at Mando, raising his eyebrows, “Has she told you? About the time she had no code of honour, of mercy?”

The man beside him snarled, his leg giving way for a moment as agony rippled up his hip, his bones screaming, “What the fuck are you talking about now?”

It was easy to hold him up, despite the weight of his beskar and they walked down the imposing hallways, three Stormtroopers flanking them – whether it was to stop Mando trying something, or stop Haran having his fun, he didn’t know. Or care.

“There was a time, little hunter, where your precious princess slaughtered anyone who dared stand in her way. She was broken, hungry for vengeance and only to eager to have her fill.”

Mando was quiet for a moment, the heavy scuff-drag of his boots the only sound to be heard – one he probably hated as he moved nearly as silently as Haran did.

Something like triumph flickered over Haran’s face at his silence, “You truly didn’t know? Oh dear… There’s a lot she hasn’t told you, Lori. Things I’ve seen in her head that I doubt even she remembers she did.” He guided them around toward the corner, to where it would all come to a head.

And to where his power was tugging him, whispering to him of the state the next hallway had been left in.

The Mandalorian pushed away from him, summoning some kind of inner reserve of strength. He stopped, the guards pausing behind him and shifting their weapons as a warning. He looked at Haran, the harsh lighting bouncing off his beskar, revealing nothing of the man beneath and Haran wondered if he had revealed his face yet.

“You seem to think telling me these things will bother me or make me look at her differently. Whatever she’s done, whatever terrible things she’s committed… it doesn’t change the fact that I love her.” He stepped forward, ignoring the guards as they moved too, “I’ll tell you something, Shadow man. There is a light that burns within her, a fire that could rival the very stars up there.” He pointed to the ceiling, “And no ounce of darkness, be it her own past or your own twisted powers, will ever snuff it out.”

He moved that finger to jab Haran’s chest. “You tried to dump her at the bottom of a lake, and she came out burning brighter than before. So carry on, tell me all these horror stories to try and scare me away.” He shrugged, the rough baritone of his voice steady, ringing with loyalty and truth – and threat, “All you’re doing is making me love her even more.”

Golden eyes flicked between the visor, assessing. Plotting.

Then Haran smiled, a sinister, deadly smile as he inclined his head, “I don’t doubt for a second everything you said is true.” He brought his hands together behind his back, resuming the walk and he used his power to push the Mandalorian along. “I believe that you’re willing to throw down the gauntlet to protect her honour every single time someone threatens it. But I wonder… All you’ve heard is stories.”

He walked around the corner and stopped yet again, his dark power dragging Mando to his side. “What will you do when faced with the truth first-hand?”

The hallway was carnage.

A bloody battlefield.

Multiple bodies littered the stark floors, bright red blood sprayed all along the walls – even the ceiling. The once white armour of the Troopers was stained with the stuff, their bodies bent at unnatural angles, as if a strong power had taken hold of their limbs and yanked them in all the wrong directions until bones shattered and muscles tore.

The Mandalorian looked upon the scene, the blood coating the tips of his boots.

A dismembered hand lay just a few feet away and the severed wrist, the tendons hanging out of it... all singed. As if cleaved from the body by something white-hot and burning.

A lightsaber.

Which would explain why the hard shell-like armour of the fallen Troopers were marked with black holes and marks, the stench of melting plastic mingling with the reek of burnt bodies and blood.

This was the work of someone with deadly skill, usually so precise… pushed to the edge, to this.

Oh, it wasn’t mindless, not by any means.

It was clearly thought out… maybe even savoured.

Haran breathed in the smell like he was standing in a field of flowers, ��Well. I have to say, I’m impressed. This looks like something I’d leave behind.” He walked through the mess of shredded bodies, a phantom wind lifting the edge of his cloak so it didn’t drag in the blood, “These poor soldiers never had the chance.” He crouched down, pushing the helmet of one Trooper – resulting in the head rolling a few inches away from his body.

He looked at the Mandalorian, raising an eyebrow as the fluorescent lighting brought out his scars, “Still singing her praises?”

The Mandalorian was silent, hands clenched at his sides but then he moved, not away from the scene, but toward it.

Through it.

Through the blood and flesh until he was standing right in front of Haran, feet splashing to a stop in the scarlet river, “Always.”

~~~

Moff Gideon was waiting for you as you were escorted into a large, open chamber.

He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, with a young girl at his side – presumably his second in command. There was a sick expression of glee on his face, dark eyes glittering with what he presumed was triumph.

Next to him, stood Haran, clad in black as always, with that embroidered cloak holding –

Din.

Oh, the sight of your Mandalorian threatened to bring you to your knees as you were stopped a few metres away.

You couldn’t see his body – obviously – but you knew simply from the way he held himself, that he was terrible injured.

He seemed to be bearing his weight to one side, slumped over even as he stood, and you could hear is laboured breathing from here.

Oh Din, what happened to you…

You had to admit, a small part of you wondered if there would be anything left of him when you arrived. Not from the possibility of torture, but simply from that terrible fall.

The thought of tumbling all that way down to the ground, encased in a rock-solid metal shell… You couldn’t even fathom it.

And yet, there Din was, still alive after something that should have killed him.

Clearly, the Maker had plans for him.

Gideon cleared his throat, watching the Trooper grunt retreat to the edge of the room, “Well, well. After all my time spent hunting you… Here you are.” He cocked his head, “I thought you’d be taller.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing, “Oh stars above, please tell me this isn’t another villain speech. I hate those.”

Haran’s lips twitched perhaps remembering this exact same conversation from his bunker.

You flickered your eyes to him, before looking back at Moff Gideon, who was looking at you with… a rather bored expression already.

“I was told you were insolent and arrogant, and I can see my sources were correct. They were also correct about how to summon you here.”

He looked over at Haran, “Though it took many years for someone’s ideas to actually bear fruit. Well done.”

Haran bristled slightly, as if taking praise from a mere human man irritated him.

You supposed it did.

Gideon was nothing compared to Haran, power or not.

“Well, I would hate to disappoint you, of course.” You shot him a sweet smile, venom in your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could tell me what it is you want before I take my Mandalorian here and leave this dump.” You held up your comms watch, “I have a party in Coruscant I’m due to be at and it won’t look very good if I’m late.”

You thought you may have heard muffled chuckles from the line of Stormtroopers assembled behind him, but you paid it no heed.

Gideon bared his teeth at you, eyes blazing, and he brought a hand in front of him to point at Din, “Do you not realise, we have your precious bounty hunter captive? Do you not realise who is holding him?”

You looked over at Haran, shrugging lightly, “A guy who has interesting taste in fashion?”

Did Gideon not know about the bunker or the lake? Had Haran neglected to tell him you’d met before?

Haran revealed nothing in his expression, but there was something in his eyes… something ancient… some of betrayal? Of lies?

Moff Gideon snarled at you, “Insolent creature. You are here because we allowed you to be. In fact, the only reason that happened, is because of the failures of the people I sent after you. Had they done their job, you would have been broken long ago. That disgusting affliction of yours burnt out of you.”

Heat licked down your spine, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as the three Force wielders within it straightened at is words, the ugly discrimination in his words.

Dangerous game to play, Gideon.

You kept your breathing even, feeling the shadows prowl beneath your skin, teeth and claws still dripping with blood from the hallways, wanting more, “Have you ever wondered why you’re stuck here, chasing down women and babies?” You took a step forward, anger and pride for yourself, for Ahsoka, every Force Sensitive person both dead and alive making your voice carry strong over the empty air – even pride for Haran, in some way.

Gideon rose an eyebrow, “Do tell.”

“You’re stuck in the past. You believe that people like us,” You motioned to yourself, “You believe we are abominations. Freaks of nature. The Force is nature. It’s the very thing that binds us all together. There is no fear in it, no monstrosity. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you people to understand.”

The Officer sighed, shaking his head and moving a step closer as well, “Oh, I understand that. I wasn’t referring to the others in this room. I was referring to you. You, my dear, have been sick and twisted from the very moment you were born.”

Din pulled against Haran’s grip, growling in anger, “I’d advise you to stop speaking.”

Haran yanked him hard, “Stay quiet.” He spat the words at Din, but you didn’t fail to notice the murderous look he shot Gideon over Din’s head, his golden eyes livid.

A shaking had taken over your hands, so you clenched them tighter around your weapons, years of abuse playing in your mind.

But you pushed back against it, for you were stronger now. Stronger because of it, not in spite of it.

Gideon continued, looking upon you in disgust but there was a sick fascination here too, “You have been marked for death long before you showed your powers. You think it was coincidence that the hunter was stalking you in your miserable little village? She was there on orders.” He looked over you, “A child responsible for the deaths of her parents. You might as well have pushed the blade in your mothers flesh yourself.”

A roaring took over your head, filling your ears with the sounds of screaming, the stench of blood and the way the light sapped from your life as your parents died.

But… the world was different now.

It was bright again.

Because of Din, your friends… That’s why you were here.

You glared at Gideon, wanting so desperately to tear out his throat with your power, your hands, or even your teeth – but now wasn’t the time. You shook your head, “You don’t win this time, Gideon. I’m afraid your sad little life will be ruled by chasing me for just a little longer.” With that, you flung your hands wide, making your power explode through the room with a battering impact.

You felt another wave at the same time as yours, fuelling it – Ahsoka’s.

You only just managed to keep it free from Din, though Haran had thrown up a hand milliseconds before you, as if sensing what you were going to do – and evidently creating a shield.

Gideon and the Troopers weren’t quite so lucky.

The Force flung him through the air, causing his head to smash harshly against a metal beam and he crumpled to the ground, limp.

Haran spun to look at him, and it occurred to you – he should have protected him too. He was working for Gideon. Or… at least pretending to be.

Who was really calling the shots here?

No time for that now.

You used Haran’s distraction to throw yourself at him, activating the lightsaber and unleashing yourself on him with a strangled cry of rage.

He startled, just a few seconds too late and he pushed Din at you in an attempt to slow you down.

Perfect.

Just as you planned.

You were never really going to engage in battle with him, had never intended to attack him.

But you knew he would use Din as a shield, thinking you were too blidned in your rage – but you proved him wrong.

Din careened into you, stumbling against your body and you both nearly tumbled to the floor, but then Cara was there, helping you support his body as he wrapped an arm around you, “You came…” His voice was hoarse, weak with pain and exhaustion.

The relief and love in his voice nearly brought you to the ground, “Of course I came for you, Din. I will always come for you.” You gave him a watery smile, walking toward the others, keeping one eye behind you as Haran watched.

Why wasn’t he moving… Why wasn’t he attacking?

“I saw what you did.” Haran’s silken voice called out from behind you, making you pause in your retreat. “I know you feel it. The call to the Dark Side. And I know that you answered it.”

That would be why.

You slowed to a stop, forcing Din and Cara to slow too. “How do you know I answered it?” You looked straight ahead, still not turning around.

Haran sounded as though he took a step forward, “I felt it. I felt it when you allowed the Dark to show you how to get here. You saw the lives as glowing lights, a map to saving your Mandalorian. And the mess you left in that hallway…” He trailed off meaningfully, “You needn’t fear it, darling. It’s not evil. It’s merely… a different perspective.” His voice had melted into the same one that had coaxed you into swallowing the poison, into stepping off the edge.

Here you were, yet again. Only you weren’t standing on the precipice of a raging torrent… You were standing on the edge of the Dark Side.

And his words had instantly awoken it, set it pining for a life to be unleashed, untamed.

Slowly, you turned around, cringing when Din’s broken feet tumbled over each other too, so you slowly let go “A different perspective…?” You cocked your head, voice starting to sound unsure as his seductive baritone filtered through your mind, weaving around it.

He smiled, that gorgeous, disarming smile that instantly made you lock focus on him, “Yes. Others may tell you that the dark side is evil… But it isn’t. It’s simply using that power in a different way. Using it to get the things that you deserve.”

You swallowed, feet hanging over that metaphorical edge, “You – You promise? I can’t go back to that place. I can’t be a… monster again.” Your voice trembled over the word; eyes locked on his amber ones.

Din shook his head fiercely from your left, fighting against Cara’s hold as she pulled him away, but he was too weak, “No. Sweetheart, no. Stop listening to him, please… He’s lying to you. You don’t need this. You don’t need that darkness, princess. You’re so good, so strong… please don’t do this.”

And then you made a decision.

You ignored Din.

And walked toward Haran.

Stepping off of that edge.

Haran extended a gloved hand to you, “That’s it, darling. That’s it… Coming here doesn’t make you a monster, it just means you are claiming your birth right. This is where you belong.”

As you reached his presence, a feeling wrapped over you, muffling Din’s voice, the sounds of the others around you. You slid your hand through his, gasping a little as you felt your shadowy beast respond to his own, felt them twine around each other, greet each other.

“I don’t…” Uncertainty still clouded your expression, and you lingered a little, worrying you were making a fatal mistake.

He saw this, gently drawing you closer and into the circle of his arms, “No one will die. Your Mandalorian, your friends… We will help them leave safely and then… Then we can begin.” He guided your head to his neck.

Din’s voice, though muffled, was desperate, clawing at you, “No! Cyar'ika, you can’t. Please, I’m begging you. You don’t need to go to him, you don’t need to do this. I love you. I love you for who you are, for every single thing. I’m not afraid of you, of any single part of you.” He sobbed.

Din sobbed, reaching for you, “Please don’t leave me alone.”

You were glad your head was pressed to Haran’s neck, because the backs of your eyes burned, shame and guilt threatening to choke you.

You had to do this.

You had to do it now before you shattered completely.

You were quiet, and then just… went pliant in his arms. You raised your own to his back, winding around his lean frame and lifted your face from Haran’s neck, nuzzling your nose along his neck, “I believe you.”

“NO!!” Din fell to his knees beside Cara, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sweetheart, please don’t do this. Please-” The way his voice broke tore through your heart, and you nearly backed out right then and there.

But you didn’t because Din… He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you had to do this…

Haran’s arms tightened around you, one coming up to cradle the back of your head, “Good girl. I always knew you would see the light.” A deliberate, ironic choice of words form the King of Shadows and Death.

Din’s sobs speared though you, each devasted noise threatening the tears building in your own throat.

Raising on tiptoe slightly, you ran a hand down his back, the other splaying wide, ready.

You brushed your lips along the smooth line of his skin, breathing in the smell of wind and midnight, “There’s just… There’s one little thing…”

Haran nodded, his cheek resting against your hair, “Anything. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

His words muffled the soft sound of an object flying into your hand as you let out a breath against the shell of his ear, whispering, “I will never be your Queen.”

The sound of a lightsaber activating, not through air… but through flesh.

Haran’s choke of surprise – and agony.

You held his sagging body to yours, snarling, “That’s for the lake, you twisted asshole.” You stepped back, letting him fall to his knees, yanking free the lightsaber and savouring the gritted howl of agony as you tore back through more flesh and tendon.

Those amber eyes of his blazed like molten gold, deadly and furious, “You don’t know the mistake you’re making. You’re throwing away your life with these fools.”

You bared your teeth at him, raising the saber threateningly to his throat, letting it make the faintest contact, “Come after me again, and I will end you. I don’t care if you’re hundreds of yours old, or the King of Death or whatever else you call yourself. I’m not afraid of you. And I will destroy you before you can do the same to anyone else.”

With that, you quickly turned, bolting toward your family and friends, “Now!!”

Ahsoka flung her hands wide at the same time as you, creating a wide bubble of Force energy that blew through the space.

Every Stormtrooper in the area was knocked flat on their back, instantly out like lights as you threw your arm around Din’s shoulders, trying to get him up as he stared at you.

“What… I don’t…” His voice was bewildered, dazed with pain and he was heavy in your arms.

You whimpered just slightly, desperation and anxiety creeping forward, the edge of battle slowly fading, “I’ll explain everything later, we have to go now, Lori. Please.”

Mayfeld was suddenly there, supporting his other side and then you were all running for the cargo hold, leaving the destruction behind you.

Even as you ran, Cara and Fennec scouting ahead, Ahsoka behind you aiding with the energy bubble and Mayfeld helping you carry Din… You couldn’t quite figure out how you had pulled this off.

You’d done it.

~~~

Haran watched her leave, supporting the Mandalorian and hurrying away with her friends, her power combined with Tano’s to create an impenetrable shield around them all.

Well… He would have gotten through with half a thought – perhaps a whole one – but any of the other fools in this place wouldn’t stand a chance.

Many footsteps rushed into the room and then he felt hands on him, pushing away his own, trying to get to his wound.

He looked down, saw a medic with their pack open by his side, flitting and fiddling.

“Leave it.” His silken voice was hard ice, enough of a bite there to inform the medic what would happen if they didn’t leave.

Despite the medics healing instincts, they knew the tone well, and moments later the kit was packed up and Haran was already turning away from the retreating figure.

Strong.

She had grown stronger far quicker than even he had expected. He knew it was within her, but he had thought the trauma ran deeper, its claws embedded into her very soul and creating a barrier every time she would try to tap into the power.

Tano must have taught her how to master her fear, or how to get past it.

Useful, it saved him a job… but also irritating. If she was already harnessing that trauma, it would mean he could no longer use that aspect.

Haran walked the path she had taken, out to the cargo load, the harsh wind roaring across the space as the tech’s struggled to gain control of the ship again, to remove whatever bug the girl and her friends had slipped in.

No matter. It didn’t upturn his plans… just meant he had to work with a new angle.

And fortunately, he had one, courtesy of the would-be Queen herself.

Haran had come across the bodies in the hallway on his way in here, saw the way they were dumped on the ground with their limbs at unnatural angles, their armour shattered from the inside out.

And if the still smoking scorch marks all over their bodies weren’t indication enough, a sweep of his power had revealed massive internal devastation.

Haran stood with a gloved hand pressed to the bleeding wound as he watched the steadily shrinking shape of a ship. A mere thought had the hole stitching back together as he extended his fingers out slowly.

No one on the clean side of the Force would wreak havoc like that of the hallway, regardless of their love having been kidnapped and beaten.

And that meant simply one thing. And one thing only.

She was being called to the Dark Side.

And she’d heeded that call.

Maybe only temporary, but the Dark Side was like Haran himself. Once you let it in, once you got that first taste… it never truly left. She could deny it all she wanted, trick him with it, think it was merely a reaction from the stress of saving the Mandalorian, but it had already rooted within her.

He could feel it.

Haran tipped his head back and laughed, his ebony curls dancing across his forehead as the wind tugged and pushed at his tall, lean frame. A lone pillar of darkness, hovering at the edge of the world.

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#well this was a journey #the mandalorian x reader #edited because I realised I spelt Mayfeld wrong #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Stay The Night // Malcolm Bright (Prodigal Son)

Summary: He never stays the night.

A/N: My first Prodigal Son fic! I am still getting to grips with Malcolm’s character so forgive me if things seem off! I would love some requests for Prodigal Son so feel free to drop them in my inbox! I am only writing for Malcolm right now. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, cute

Word Count: 1.7k

He never stayed the night.

He would fasten his shirt; taking care with each button as he kisses you again and again. He would laugh against your mouth – his hands stopping yours from undoing the buttons once again.

He never stayed the night.

It never mattered how many times you told yourself this would be the last time; you found yourself answering his phone call or his text and unlocking your door for him. Knowing he would let himself in; sweet nothings on the tip of his tongue – ready to be whispered lovingly into your ear.

It didn’t matter how many times you pleaded with him. He never stayed the night.

He claims that it’s to protect you, but you wonder if it’s more to protect himself. That he’s so innately terrified that the walls he spent years building are so happy to crumble around you. That he just isn’t ready for that yet.

Doubts fly around your head; distracting you from your work, pulling you away from his arms when he least expects it. Malcolm notices – of course he does, he’s a trained profiler, he would notice the little changes in your behaviour. The distance you so obviously try to put between you; short answers to texts, upset sighs on the phone.

Malcolm starts to spend his days thinking of you: thinking of your smile, your laugh, your kiss. It occupies the better part of his day as he wonders whether he had taken advantage of you, of what the both of you have together. He knows that something has changed between you; that something is wrong, but he cannot work out the cause.

It comes to ahead the evening he enters the tunnels under the city, following a serial killer claiming to know more about the Girl in the Box. He follows the suspect blindly; not thinking of anything else but getting his answers though, for one brief moment, as his ribs are crushed in the turnstile gate, Malcolm’s mind briefly flickers to you. A moment of pain free peace in and amongst it all.

Malcolm’s breathing is slow and heavy when you find him in Gil’s office. His eyes are closed, but he feels your presence – it charges the atmosphere in the room, making him long to touch you, but falter at the idea that he could possibly hurt you.

“I thought they had called my mother,” Malcolm says in greeting; his voice tight as his ribs protest any movement, any breath.

You shake your head, holding up your phone as some semblance of evidence, “Gil rang about a half hour ago, asking me to come to the station and get you of his sight.”

Malcolm laughs, then gasps in pain, “I think Gil is angry with me…”

“Think?” You all but shout, “You think Gil is angry with you? Christ, Malcolm, I’m angry with you.”

Malcolm furrows his brows, confused at your outburst. His eyes wander over your body; the speed of your breaths combined with the flush under your skin and the thin line of your lips suggests your anger, but your eyes…

Your eyes show pain; anger is there, it is simmering away quietly, waiting for fuel to be added to the fire but through it all, pain is the key emotion. He cannot help but wonder how long he has been blind to the pain in your eyes; wonders whether it was visible every time he kissed you goodnight before leaving you once again.

Throwing your hands in the air, you cross your arms over your body, protecting yourself from whatever else is about to happen. Nudging the chair leg with your foot, you sigh, “Come on, I’ll take you back to your flat.”

Malcolm frowns: opening his mouth to begin to protest but decides against it at the last moment. Instead, he slowly pulls himself out the chair, doing his best to hide the grimace that falls across his face at the first hint of pain and follows you out of the door.

The car ride is silent and full to the brim with awkward tension. He doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t know what to do. He cannot decide whether he should reach across the console and take your hand, offering you some form of comfort despite it being him that is injured.

He doesn’t take your hand. He chickens out at the last moment, unable to stop thinking about the pain in your eyes. Instead, he clenches his hand into a tight fist, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.

Distantly, Malcolm tries to pinpoint the exact moment it went wrong between you both. It wasn’t his job – you were just as dedicated to yours. It wasn’t his talent for profiling; for the keen sense of observation he uses in his everyday life.

It comes to him all at once.

He never stayed the night. He had left you too many times.

Tilting his head back onto the headrest, Malcolm deliberates whether he had left you alone one too many times, whether his time with you was now running out. He can feel the first crack in his heart when the thought crosses his mind; he feels it and he doesn’t like it.

-----

Malcolm’s flat is cold when you enter behind the brunette. His bird twitters away happily at the sight of their owner; you cannot help but smile softly at the sight of Malcolm greeting his beloved pet.

That very smile turns fond as Malcolm turns his attentions to you, gesturing you further into his home. To your heart, it didn’t matter how many times Malcolm had left you in the night, how his side of the bed turned cold before he had closed the door behind him. It didn’t matter because he had so easily managed to capture it for his own gain.

Malcolm takes a seat at his breakfast bar gingerly, willing himself not to jostle his side too much. He watches you with a wide-eyed expression as he tracks your movement; watching you grab a glass and fill it with water.

The glass landing on the counter is the only sound in the room. Malcolm doesn’t dare say anything for fear of pushing you further away; you refuse to say anything for fear of showing your true feelings.

“If you have everything you need, I’ll get going. I’ll call you in the morning to check up on you, Malcolm,” You comment quietly, pushing away from the breakfast counter, ready to leave and not come back unless absolutely necessary.

“What?” The questions falls from his lips before he even thinks it through; he just cannot seem to comprehend that you would leave him.

“I’m going. You’ve got your pain meds and some water, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” You sigh, tugging your jacket tighter and heading for the door.

“Wait!” Malcolm calls, standing from the breakfast bar with slow, painful movements. It is only in this instant that he regrets ever following that man into the tunnel; it is only now he regrets such an action for the fact that it looks like you’re about to walk out of his life and Malcolm feels as if he won’t see you again.

“Wait,” He repeats, “Please.”

You pause at the door, turning to face him. His eyes are almost wild with unspoken emotions as he outstretches a single hand, as if he could bridge the gap that had grown between the both of you over the last few weeks.

“Yes, Malcolm,” You sigh tiredly. You feel the fight leave you as your limbs suddenly become heavy; the weight of the emotions you have been feeling these past few weeks beginning to press down heavily upon you.

“What happened between us?” He asks timidly, as if afraid of the answer he will find. Malcolm has searched for answers since he was ten years old, watching his father being hauled away by the authorities. Now, however, he finds himself scared of the answer he might find.

“You never stayed the night. You would always kiss me and then leave. Why?” You counter, finally asking the question that has been circling your mind since the pattern emerged. Your voice breaks with barely held in emotions.

“There is a lot involved when it comes to being with me. I didn’t want to put you through all of it,” He replies in reason, closing his eyes at the pain that so clearly sounded in your voice.

“I think I did alright tonight,” You comment airily, gesturing to his bandaged chest.

Malcolm laughs, but doesn’t regret the burst of pain from his ribs. He reaches for your hand again, smiling happily when you don’t pull your hand away. “I think you did alright tonight too,” He murmurs.

“So why would you leave?”

Malcolm averts his gaze, thinking over the words carefully. “Would you believe me if I told you I was scared?” He asks.

“Of what?”

“Of it all,” He confesses, “There is so much that comes with being with me, having to manage everything… I understand how it can become too much for one person so that’s why I would leave every time when all I really wanted to do was spend every waking minute with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” You demand, curiosity your besetting sin.

“I was scared. I was doing it all to protect you, but I’ve gone about it the wrong way.”

You squeeze his hand, offering him a form of comfort as you work through what Malcolm has told you. He remains silent, happy for now to be stood by you, holding your hand in his.

“Stay the night?” He asks, pulling you gently towards the couch.

You bite your lip, glancing quickly between the door and the hopeful expression on Malcolm’s face.

“I want to make this a regular thing,” He states before clarifying, “Not the injured side of things, but staying with you, sleeping with you. I don’t like leaving you anymore. I don’t want to leave you anymore.”

“Malcolm…” You trail off, thinking of your countless attempts at taking your relationship further, at asking him to stay with you in the futile hope you could help with whatever terrors he suffers with at night.

“Stay the night?” He asks, repeating the same question from moments ago. His voice is hopeful, and his blue eyes shine bright with untold emotion along with the clear trust that burns there.

Smiling softly, you answer, “I’ll stay the night.”

****

Prodigal Son Taglist: @thecaptainsgingersnap

#malcolm bright x reader #malcolm x reader #malcolm bright fanfiction #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son fanfiction #prodigal son fandom #malcolm bright #prodigal son

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jonahlovescoffee · 4 years

Text

Unbelievable | J.M.

a/n: bc jonah in the unbelievable music video is just hot hot hot hot hot :) i’ve been putting this one on hold for way too long. not rlly satisfied with the way it went but i promise it’s not that bad (i think) lol happy reading <3

summary: jonah’s outfit was unbelievable and so was his ability to pleasure you anywhere, even in the kitchen.

warnings: kitchen smut as requested by @averysbestyears

word count: 3362

“your taste; i could drink, i could drink, i could drink a whole damn case; every drip, every drip, couldn't let you go to waste”

You spent the entirety of your morning out and about running errands, only returning to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend late in the afternoon with bags of groceries in hand. With Jonah out with his band mates to film a music video for their upcoming single for who-knows-how-long, the apartment you shared with him seemed unusually quiet and empty without the constant couple banter between you both. In attempt to lessen the feeling of loneliness caused by the deafening silence, you put on some relaxing music on the stereo before putting away all the groceries, leaving only the necessary ingredients for a chocolate cake on the counter. After tying your hair up in a messy bun, you got started excitedly with your baking, humming softly along to the music as you worked. Despite having baked for countless times before, you still weren’t exactly good at it, your clumsy self often knocking over and accidentally spilling everything and anything everywhere which explained why your counter looked like a chaotic war zone half an hour later when you were done.

You heaved a relieved sigh when you managed to put the cylinder pan filled with cake batter safely into the oven, a triumphant smile plastered on your face. You were about to start cleaning up the kitchen when you heard the faint sound of the door opening and closing so you rushed to the living room immediately to be greeted by the sight of Jonah taking off his shoes at the foyer. He smiled when he looked up and saw you, opening his arms for you which you run into with glee.

“Welcome home, love,” you giggled as he picked you up off your feet and spun you around few times until you squealed and asked him to put you down.

“Missed you so bad,” he said and placed a tender kiss on your head as he followed you into the kitchen, an arm around your waist. “Baking again?” He asked after sniffing the air that was filled with the slightly bitter scent of the chocolate cake that wafted out through the oven, completely oblivious to your lingering gaze on him that was sneakily examining him from head to toe—eyes darting from his tousled brown hair to the dark grey t-shirt that hugged his muscled figure perfectly, showing off the subtle outlines of the toned abs hiding underneath, to his long white jacket that reached his knees and jeans of the same colour—and gosh, he sure looks handsome. How nice must it feel to let your hands roam his body and—

“Baby?” He called, snapping you out of your train of thoughts and you blinked several times at him who was waving his hands in front of you, trying to get your attention.

“Yes, what were you saying again?” You smiled sheepishly at him, light pink tinting your cheeks, embarrassed by your explicit thoughts although no one heard them apart from you. But Jonah had known you long enough to figure out the exact thoughts that were running through your head a moment ago. And as a good boyfriend, he couldn’t leave your wishes unattended, could he?

“Well, I was asking if you need help with cleaning but I think we’ll get to that later, hmm?” A smirk made its way onto his face as he backed you up until your back hit the edge of the counter and he pinned you against it, his tall figure towering over your petite one. “Since you’re so overly interested in admiring my body,” he said smugly and you blushed a darker shade of crimson, guilty as charged.

“It’s...it’s your fault for dressing like this today,” you stuttered nervously while avoiding his gaze, earning a small chuckle from him.

“I’m glad you like my outfit,” he licked his lips before cupping the back of your neck to tilt your head so that you were looking at him directly in the eyes. “But I think you’ll like it better if I take them off, am I right, baby?” He asked, his voice turning husky.

“No! Definitely not! What are you talking about?” You hurriedly waved your hands in front of yourself in denial but your wavering tone wasn’t convincing enough. This bastard already knew the answer to his own question and the last thing you would do was admit it out loud to feed his ego (actually it was because you were too much of a coward to do so but we don’t talk about that here).

Jonah could feel his self control that he had put on himself ever since he walked through the front door gradually faltering at the sight of how innocent you looked on the outside — how flustered you got at the mere implication of sex like you had never done it your entire life — and how much it fueled his desire to take you right then and there in the kitchen, which was precisely what he was going to do. “Well baby, I’ll keep my clothes on then, but this means you gotta lose yours.”

“No, that’s not what I meant...ahh,” you were cut short by a gasp of your own when his lips connected with your neck without warning, generously leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your jaw down to the column of your neck, sending a shock of heat through your core.

“Then what do you mean, sweetheart?” With you guys’ handful of previous experiences, it didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot, abruptly scraping his teeth against it, easily biting hard enough to create a bruise, earning a moan from you as your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, tugging at his brown locks lightly until a groan managed to slip past his lips.

“I...,” you trailed off, still too timid to speak your mind. When you didn’t make a move to continue your sentence, he pulled away from you and you almost whimpered at the sudden loss of contact.

“Go on. I’m waiting,” he urged, his fingers drumming the countertop impatiently, waiting for your reply. “I won’t start until you tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you,” you replied quickly, spilling out all the words out in one go and with a satisfied grin, he lifted you up onto the counter and he was standing between your legs.

“Yeah? Which part of me, baby?” He teased, both of his hands now on your waist, his thumbs gently tracing random patterns.

“Every part of you, Jonah, fuck. So can we stop with the talking and start doing now?” You yanked him closer by the chain around his neck before finally connecting your lips with his, opening your mouth on a second’s notice when you felt his teeth sink into your bottom lip lightly, granting his tongue full permission to slip into your mouth almost immediately. You couldn’t help but release another moan as soon as you tasted the coffee that he probably just drank in the car on the way home on his tongue.

Not just any coffee. You knew the difference between the tastes of all kinds of coffee like the back of your hand. The bitter taste with a hint of the sweetness of chocolate that engulfed your senses now was definitely not the taste of the straight black coffee he usually preferred.

No, it was the taste of mocha—your favourite type of coffee.

“You prick, you expected this to happen, huh?” You asked when both of you pulled away to catch your breaths, your faces remaining inches apart, your breaths mingling with each other’s.

“Maybe,” he chuckled darkly as his fingers slowly curled around your neck, “We always end up naked after every of my band photoshoots in one way or another so why not be prepared this time?”

Before you can let a string of vulgar curses escape, he attached your lips with his once again and from the way his hand tightened around your neck and the rougher movements of his tongue, you knew that he wasn’t planning on holding back his feral hunger for you this time round, subsequently making you moan with extreme pleasure when your tongues entwined and also at the thought of what he was about to do to you.

You angled your head to deepen the kiss as your hands grabbed fistfuls of his jacket, a silent plea for him to take it off, in which he responded with shifting his body enough for you to slip it off, the expensive white material thudding to the ground, revealing his strong tattooed arms. You let you fingers trace his biceps for a moment before moving your hands downwards to pull his shirt out of his jeans but he stopped you before you could remove his shirt.

“Don’t,” he said sternly into the kiss and grabbed both your hands in one hand quickly. He pulled away, biting your bottom lip with a force strong enough to make it swell slightly. “It’s not your turn until I say so,” he snarled and you felt heat pooling at your core just from the serious look on his face. “Now lie down,” he ordered and forced you down with the hand around your throat swiftly but carefully so you were laying flat on the counter, on top of all the spilled flour and some cake batter, the unkept baking supplies pushed to the very end of the counter.

He did not wait any longer to peel your shirt off you and you watched him exhale sharply as his eyes darkened, the black of his pupils almost consuming all the vibrant hazel surrounding them. “Fucking hell baby,” he tossed your shirt aside as his eyes drank in every curves and edges of your bare upper body. You didn’t bother to put on any undergarments when you changed after you got home from your grocery run, thinking that since no one’s home aside from you it’ll be totally fine. You made a mental note to do this more often in future because his stunned turned-on expression was definitely something you would want to see again. “Is it my birthday or something today?”

“You’re not the only one who came prepared,” you said cheekily, adding in a hushed tone, “Just so you know, I’m not even wearing anything underneath my pants either.” A string of profanities fell from his lips at your words as his hand made its way between your thighs, pushing your shorts aside to slip in his fingers. The wetness that his fingers were immediately greeted with was proof enough of your testament, earning a satisfactory groan from him.

“Now, where shall I start?” He asked, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he stared down at your shirtless figure splayed on the counter like his own personal feast. “Here? Or,” He teased, his hands travelled down to one of your breasts from your neck and let a finger draw circles around your nipple. “Here?” He tentatively dragged his fingers unhurriedly along your slit, collecting your ever growing slick, which had you whimpering and grinding against his fingers, in desperate need of as much friction as possible, yearning to feel more of him but the movement of his fingers remained so excruciatingly slowly.

“So fucking needy, aren’t you, my little slut?” he tisked, flicking his middle and index fingers between your hard nipple, earning an involuntary moan from you. “I’m barely doing anything,” he chuckled before taking his fingers that were coated in your sticky arousal and bringing them to his mouth, making sure that your gaze was on him as he licked them clean. “Tastes so fucking good as always.”

“Jonah, please,” you begged, “touch me more.”

“Oh I’ll do so much more than touching, babygirl,” you bit your tongue to suppress another moan at his words that were immediately followed by the sound of him falling onto his knees. His fingers gripped your thighs, pushing them further up and apart, his face nearing your dripping core. He let out a little huff on the inner part of your thighs, causing your legs to slightly shiver and your pussy flutter.

“Fucking gorgeous.” he breathed, his eyes staring hungrily at your cunt before laying his tongue flatly against your clit and let you rut yourself against it for a second before he unexpectedly gave it a harsh bite with a little bit of force. You slammed your hands against the counter right away and let out a loud gasp.

“Whoops, my bad,” he chuckled and you felt him smirk against your flesh. “Let me try this again.”

He wrapped his mouth around your throbbing clit before starting to suck it softly, his tongue flickering back and forth against it before moving his mouth lower and sweeping his tongue against your folds. It almost hurt with how incredible you were feeling right now. His mouth was hot against you as his velvety tongue continued swiping back and forth against your clit, faster and harder each time. The way he groaned at the taste of your body intoxicated you with more lust and you soon found yourself unable to think, hear, feel or remember anything else save for the name of the male that was eating you out like it was his last meal.

And when he finally moved his tongue into your pussy, it felt too good to be true. So fucking good that you were about to combust with pleasure. He went at a slow pace at first but then sped up every three thrusts until you were softly chanting a continuous series of “yes” under your breath. It seemed that he didn’t think that was enough, for he moved a finger to your weeping core, the rough pad of the tip of his finger pressing down and moving around in circular movements.

He was so rough but it felt so good, every lick and suck successfully building flares of heat in your adomen. “I...I’m close,” you stuttered, not really able to speak in your current state of bliss.

“Yeah? You wanna cum, darling?” Jonah asked, replacing his tongue with two fingers that managed to slip into you ever so easily due to how wet you were, pumping them in and out quickly.

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, your hands finding their way to him naturally, clinging onto him for dear life as he skillfully finger fucked you, your high gradually approaching with each thrust of his digits. Without any warning, he attached his lips to your bundle of nerves and sucked on it, right when he curled his fingers inside you, easily finding and hitting your g-spot. Your hands tightened on his shoulders, nails digging into his thick, supportive muscles.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Your walls tightened on him and an orgasm wracked through your body at his command, back arched while your thighs trembled as you came undone around his fingers. Panting slightly, you tried to regain your breath but before you knew it, his tongue went back to work again, swirling around to capture every single drop of your sweet juices into his mouth, the slurping noises and the ethereal feeling of his tongue on you turning you into a moaning mess.

“Fuck, darling, you taste so good,” he complimented, pulling his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, licking them clean while looking at you and you let out an unrecognisable sound from the sight alone. “Couldn’t get enough of you. C’mon here.”

You did as he told, sitting up and scooting closer to him, your hands itching to undress him but you didn’t once you remembered his warning. You despised him still being fully clothed while you were already stripped bare for him but you also knew that one, going against him would accomplish nothing but getting punished on your part and two, he would adhere to your wishes once he felt like it.

And you were right.

“Take it off, I know you want to,” he said and you pulled his shirt off him excitedly before undoing his belt and his jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear and they pooled at his ankles, leaving his member standing at attention, already leaking with precut with all the lust bottled inside him.

“Wanna keep you close when I fuck you senseless, baby,” he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock and you whined. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He nudged your folds slightly and you nodded.

“I want your dick so bad,” you admitted with a hint of shyness and his lips broke into a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Mmhmm, and I’ll give it to you, pretty girl,” he sheathed himself inside of you and you let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Jonah completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasped your hips so firmly his knuckles turned white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands found their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath your hands.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Jonah’s voice was a low growl as he thrusts into you, the slaps of your skin interacting between each thrust was like a sinful symphony. “So fucking tight.”

The smell of the cologne he wore danced in your brain as he worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly

“Just cum already, you know you want to babygirl,” he muttered to you through his clenched teeth, groans of his own escaping every now and then. You took your opportunity and let your pleasure go for the second time, your orgasm taking over as your back arched even more, your toes curling as you moaned out in pleasure.

He came soon after, relentlessly pounding into you throughout his own orgasm, his thick warm seed coating the inside of your walls, the sensation making you shiver as your nipples started to stiffen up even more. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds before he pulled out, the cum sliding out and onto your inner thighs. He stared as it drizzled out for a few more moments before he gave a smirk, glancing back up to your breathless form and his expression softened right away.

“Guess it’s time for a good bath now, love,” he said as his hands reached behind you to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess between your thighs. You tiredly rested your head on his shoulder once he’s done and the paper towels were discarded into the bin.

“I can’t feel my legs anymore though,” you complained, arms already around his neck, hoping that he’d get your hint, which he did.

“Fine, I’ll carry you,” he said with a laugh, hands sliding down your spine to grip your thighs firmly and you wrapped your legs around his waist before he hoisted you off the counter and started walking towards your bedroom. “You always turn into a baby after sex. How cute.”

“I’m your baby so of course I am,” you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

“My pretty little baby girl, hmm?” The way his voice dipped a tone when he pronounced those words near your ear made your heartbeat drop to your southern region instantly and you felt your pussy gradually turning wet. Again.

He chuckled, a sign that he felt the changes in your body too, earning a smack on his back from you. “Shut up. It’s your fault.”

“Good thing the bathtub is big enough for two then.”

taglist: @chilling-seavey @neralondon @mia-marais @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @kvd963 @cutiebandlover202 @savspersonalproperty @slowdownatthelotusinn @angelzacharyy @freakshows199 @my-fangirling-outlet

#wdw #why dont we #corbyn besson #daniel seavey #jack avery #jonah marais #why don’t we #zach herron #wdw imagines #jonah marais imagines #jonah marais x reader #jonah marais smut

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cheese-ception · 4 years

Text

Icy Shell

Darlings, kindly forgive the initial angst - I promise the fluff that follows in the second half makes up for it tenfold.

Beta-tested on my dear @masamune-archive Tagging @tsubaki3192 and @spanish-aguacate, because I can and because it’s Levi time, you two, woo! Please, enjoy ♡ pairing: Leviathan (Obey Me!) x reader warnings: angst (to fluff) word count: 2004

Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and it wasn't fair. Leviathan's trembling fingers ran through his hair, still damp from the the shower he took earlier, purple strands glistening with stray droplets of water. Hours have passed him by as he struggled to pull himself together, pacing through his room anxiously, an agonized scowl twisting his features.

His eyes were glossed over, dark circles underneath them matching the shadows in his mind. He cursed profusely, tripping over one of the countless boxes littering the floor. Tears streamed down his cheeks, their wet trails almost painful in their descent, stinging his skin with merciless salt. He did not even bother to wipe them away, the last fragments of his focus set on a completely different kind of torment.

He picked up one of the boxes, tracing its edges with his chilled fingers, only to put it away again, carefully but without any real care at the same time.

The world was utterly joyless, a mere replica of what it used to be before the two of them met.

Before she filled his heart with all these strange feelings, causing him to become apathetic to the very things that used to keep him going.

Now none of them really mattered, regardless of how hard he tried.

Each time he ordered new merch, he lost interest before it even arrived.

Whatever game he played failed to entertain him.

Any show would have been better if she was there to watch it with him, leaving him feeling even more lonely and miserable.

He used to look forward to escaping social gatherings, to being alone in his room, able to enjoy the peace and quiet, far from the noise and the judgemental stares of all the normies he was forced to keep in touch with.

But not anymore.

Nothing made sense and it was all her fault.

Or was it, really? How many times had she asked to hang out together? How many times had she smiled at him, eyes sparkling with excitement, lips shiny with her cherry chapstick, upturned in the most endearing of smiles?

A smile that made him feel like his heart would cease beating if he didn't stop looking, so dazzling and brilliant that it made my shy away almost instantly.

He struggled hard not to give that feeling a name, afraid that if he did, the spell would break and she would finally realise he didn't deserve any of it, that she was better off sharing it with someone else, someone more worthy. He slid to the floor, hugging his knees tight to his chest, the war within him so intense that it easily put the whole celestial debacle to shame. Or at least that's certainly how it felt while his nails pierced his skin, setting themselves deep into the flesh of his forearms, crimson staining his white sleeves.

Days turned into weeks and he refused to leave his room, opening the door only when Asmodeus brought him food.

Sometimes not even then, leaving it grow cold at the doorstep, letting hunger gnaw at his insides in a desperate attempt to distract him from the void food couldn't fill.

It was better this way.

If he stayed away long enough, these feelings would eventually disappear. Surely he wouldn't suffer forever and she probably didn't even notice.

He was a nobody after all.

Nobody to be missed. He curled into himself in his tub, cradling a pillow to his chest and closed his eyes, ready to let the world disappear behind his weary eyelids and drift away to another restless sleep.

But even that wasn't meant to be as a soft knock sounded against the door, disturbing his attempt at disconnecting from reality.

“Go away, Asmo, I am not hungry!” he snarled, tossing around in a fruitless attempt at getting comfortable again.

He was met with silence, interrupted only by the soft click of the lock as the door opened slowly. Light spilling inside in harsh rays, Leviathan groaned, diving underneath the blanket where he sat still, pulling it over his head like a make-shift hoodie.

The floor creaked and he blinked fast, desperately trying to adjust his sight to the unwelcome luminosity but then the door closed again, shrouding everything in blissful darkness.

He sighed, relief spreading through him until he realised that his visitor didn't actually leave. Either that, or his nightmares came true and he was finally going crazy.

After all, he couldn't very well distinguish dreams from reality at this point and maybe he was just dreaming.

Why else would she be in there after all? “Levi?” a voice rang and his throat tightened, emotions flooding into him, threatening to suffocate him on the very spot.

He peered from underneath his blanket, trying to establish if it was really happening, not trusting his own voice enough to reply just yet.

“Are you okay?” Another sentence cut through the air, straight into his heart as he finally realised she was really there.

Her tone was filled with worry and he forced out a quiet hum, unsure just how to verbalize a proper response. “You have been away for a while, so I came here to check on you. I hope you do not mind too much. I know you probably did not want to see me, but I had to make sure you were alright,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, trailing off into an awkward silence. He didn't know what to say. There was so much he wished he had the courage to tell her but words failed to form and he opened his mouth to speak several times, only to close it again right after.

He felt something warm touch his arm and he shivered, torn between flinching away and remaining as he was, letting the warmth seep into his gelid body, devoid of any of his own heat within. It was like being kissed by the sun after a long winter and he decided to stay still, letting some of the frost that settled on him dissolve, even if only for a moment.

Daring to look up, he searched her face, pale in the dim light of Henry's fish tank, wearing an expression so sincere it made his grip on the blanket tighten, moved by the intensity of the moment as the realisation hit him.

She really cared. For him, out of all the beings in the three realms combined.

She chose to seek him when he wanted to make it easy on her.

When he wanted to make her life better by removing himself from it.

“You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but would it be okay if I hugged you?” she inquired, leaving him stunned for a few moments before he nodded, apprehension pulling at the last string that held him together. He thought he would fall apart right there in front of her, the frantic beating of his heart causing his blood to race, further melting his icy shell as he leaned forward tentatively.

For a fleeting moment he saw her smile, the very smile that shattered his heart and now pieced it back together, the sight of it making it soar like a phoenix born anew.

He held his breath, terrified that he misheard or that she was only teasing, ever so difficult to be convinced that anything pleasant could actually ever take place with him as a part of the equation. Doubt tugged at his mind, dismay threatening to settle in while he steeled himself, arms unfolded and raised in front of him somewhat awkwardly, waiting for her next move.

Suddenly her slender frame collided with his and it was as if he ascended back to heaven. Her scent enveloped him in its fruity sweetness, her chest pressed against his, delicate arms winding around him, patting his back affectionately.

It was entirely too much, yet somehow not enough and he choked back a whimper, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to silence himself instead.

Levi whined at the loss of the sensation when she eventually drew away, much too soon for his liking, even though he wouldn't openly admit it.

She took both of his hands in hers, giving them a little squeeze and he realised they were no longer cold at all. He closed his eyes, happiness spreading through him like a wildfire, the sparks of his love burning so bright and vivid that he nearly couldn't take it.

“I really missed you,” she chimed, loosening her grip on his hands, giving him space to retreat if he chose to do so.

“I am not quite sure what happened, but suddenly you were gone and it was like a part of me was missing too. Sorry if it sounds weird, but it's just not the same without you around, you know?”

“You really mean that?” he rasped, voice strained and hoarse, a mix of hope and insecurity filling it with equal share.

“Of course, why would I say it if I didn't mean it, silly?” she retorted, flashing him yet another smile and his last icy wall melted away.

Pulling her back to him, he let go of the previous hesitation, eager to feel more of what he spend so long denying himself, flustered and overstimulated but more content than he has ever been.

His trust was not easy to earn, but he decided to believe her and silence the nagging voices in his head for once. For her. And perhaps for himself too.

Her fingers combed through his hair, untangling the unruly tresses while her nails drew intricate patterns over his scalp, soothing yet enticing at the same time. He let out a sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and she pulled him even closer, until he could feel her heartbeat mirroring his own in their silent race without a winner, invigorating beyond description. He felt more alive than ever before, her name dying on his lips while he carefully stroked her back in turn. He wished he could take back all the time he had wasted, thinking himself a fool for avoiding her when it was so strikingly obvious that what he really craved was the exact opposite of that.

Every second spent with her was sacred and he realised it now.

He didn't have to hide. Not anymore.

She brushed his fringe away, kissing his exposed forehead, gentle fingers attempting to tuck the silky strands away, failing tremendously. His hair cascaded back into its place, stubborn, just like himself. Levi chuckled and she kissed him again, this time on top of the messy purple layers, rewarded by a soft gasp.

“Do you still remember when you once asked me what my greatest fear was and I wasn't sure what to reply?” she inquired, snapping him out of the momentary daze.

He nodded, patiently waiting for her to continue.

Her hand slid to his cheek, gently stroking his flustered face as she took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I did not yet know then, but what really scares me is the thought of living in a world untouched by your presence, Levi. Please don't disappear on me like that again.” He met her gaze, reluctant and skittish at first, but soon grinning so hard the tips of his usually hidden fangs were on full display. He was grateful, for her but also for the fact that he somehow managed to retain his human form. He was certain that if his tail had manifested, there would be nothing he could do to prevent it from wagging. His cheeks burned even brighter than before, eyes flickering with newly found zeal. He continued smiling, extending a pinky to her with poorly concealed enthusiasm, focusing hard on pushing back the scales that begged to sprout across the sides of his hand while he held it out in her direction. “I won’t, I promise!” ________ Masterlist

#obey me!#obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me! leviathan #leviathan fanfiction #levi fanfiction #obey me levi fanfic #obey me levi x mc #obey me levi x female mc #angst to fluff #my MC earned herself a name by this one #but I won't tell you what it is yet #she's extremely good to him and I love her for it #she's a sweetheart #cheese-ception pretends to be a wordsmith

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dandelinquency · 3 years

Text

김현진의 서평

I find it difficult nowadays to have myself focused on any book that I'm reading. I'm refering not only to one, but also to multiple books I've been trying catch up with. I could never seem to regain the strength to alot some time to conclude those pages. Although it might sound silly but I bet the real culprit behind all those odd habits is when I've come to an end on this certain book I've read. My mind's like pulling a trick on me in which I keep on denying that I'm over it, despite that I've been so hooked to it for over a year to the point I keep on reading through it all again but it seems like I just keep on skipping some parts while also proceeding on examining where my exact favorite scenes are placed. That repeatedly happened, so, I took it as a sign for me to try and find out what seems to be the problem? My mind wonders through various timelines, different settings yet it always leads me back to where we've used to had. You see, I'm quite picky when it comes to books, but when I see something which I think that is worth to read, I'll gather up all my knowledge, spare all the time I have just to get to know the book and it's narrative. I've tried countless of times to prove myself so I would take a chance for you to trust me and let me in through you. Whenever anything is associated with the word "love" I've always thought of us and the plot we're both building. I've collected dozens of infomations that are new, some are not, some things are on the edge but it doesn't affect my perspective and the mutual feelings developing, it's even quite amusing that most of it felt destined, that is enough to be easily mesmerized and be able to even memorize. Days and nights became fully dedicated throughout hours of scanning each words written on papers that creates a beautiful piece ensembling our bond.

Not until, those became irrelevant, a lot of words just happens to not make any sense, suddenly I have no idea where this storyline will lead. That's when I realized, those patterns we've established no longer creates a thrill and excites one another. The book that once my highly recommended, the reason why my heels keeps on heading back on the library turned into some sort of distraction that my mind cannot seem to get away even when I keep on trying to get engaged on new books and even on other things. It left a questionable ending with no particular answer which only makes me want to go all over again on this same old book, stuck with all the memories attached deeply into my heart made by you and me. For sure it will take a lot of time for me proceed and start reading another book, knowing the way how our story ended still doesn't feels real, and I'm holding on, like a fool hoping that a sequel should be given a shot, to make it up to all those books I didin't quite comprehend because our tale still lingers very clear in all of my heart, mind and soul.

#2jin vintage moodboard #2jin moodboard #prose??#emo #2jin angst #im not good with tags

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thegayestasexual · 5 years

Text

Adoration, Luck, and Fire Chapter Two

Tag: @actual-disaster-human @gingerdaile @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @graduatedmelon

As his week progressed, Leo has slowly adjusted to his schedule. Obviously everyone else that transferred to Lycee Françoise Dupont, he heard from Percy that their teacher reminds him a lot of his old Yancy teacher. Ms. Mendeleiev did seem really strict...

One thing that Leo found very nice and comforting in this new school/new city was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Not many people would go out of their way to make sure he and his friends were as comfortable in Dupont as possible. She not only made Calypso feel comfortable enough to befriend people who weren’t Percy, him, or Artemis. She stood up for the both of them whenever Lila decided to make lies about him.

Oh boy, don’t get him started on the time where Lila tried to claim she was his girlfriend.

Frank, Hazel, Nico and Calypso had a field day with her.

But as for speaking of Marinette. All of the demigods, to his knowledge, found her as a sunshine in their dark lives.

Even Nico, NICO, has admitted that and he quotes. ‘We’ve only had Marinette for a day and a half, but if something happened to her I would kill everyone in this school and then myself.’

He knew how to meme! Marinette made him meme!

Oh, and both Leo and Calypso made sure to let Piper know that there was a liar making up rumors over her and her father.

To say he was pissed was an understatement, but whenever he or any of his friends were brought up by her, he would get annoyed.

Not many people annoyed Leo like Narcissus did that one time.

However, Lila came to a close second.

Did Lila have any sort of common sense??

He hoped that Piper wouldn’t get even more lies spread about her, but if Marinette was to go by...Lila didn’t ever stop her lies.

Something snapped him out of his thoughts, a scream rang out down the corridor and his eyes widened. ‘Wait what’s going on?!’ He thought to himself. He began to panic, looking around in a frantic

Then, he heard it

“AKUMA!”

“What the Hades is an Akuma?” Leo heard in the distance, knowing full well that Percy was cursing his luck. Hell, he himself was cursing his luck.

Did they trade monsters just to end up with MORE monsters?

The demigods have such bad luck gods dammit. Leo turned his head as a person with Grey-red skin started making their way down the hallway. Oh shit was that....

Bianca?! Fûck fuck fUCK. The son of Hephaestus stepped backwards, knowing full well that people could die. “You had to date the person that can kill you Percy, hasn’t you?!” He started towards the raging daughter of Hades. “Bianca?” He called out hesitantly.

The person, Bianca, he tried reminding himself turned her head towards him. “My name is Firecracker, Leo go somewhere safe. I don’t want to hurt you.” Her distorted voice greeting him, like she was there but...there were hundreds of voices mixed in. It sounded like you could hear it was her voice but exactly not at the same time.

In this moment, Leo took the time to scan the older demigoddess in front of him. Her skin has an odd shade of both red and grey, like someone mixed some storm clouds with lava. Her outfit consisted of a black ballerina garb, purple stripes rolling down the bodice connecting into spirals that the tutu carried.

The oddest thing was that she was wearing a leather jacket to accompany the ballerina outfit. Completing the look happened to be the red tights with ballerina flats to finish the entire thing off.

‘Well, Bianca has always had a grace to her.’ He thought to himself, jumping out of her way. “So uh!” Leo managed to stop the girl gently taking her by the hand. “Before you go and smite whoever you want to smite, can I ask what happened?”

Because it was a very Leo thing to do, help his friends talk their problems out before he lets them go.

Firecracker pauses for a moment, pursing her lips together she opened her mouth. “Some girl tried to harm both Nico and I, she tripped him countless of times and oftened blamed it on clumsiness, and for me? She tried to make it seem like I was stealing things from her. I’m pretty sure she’s thrown homophobic slurs too.” She explains to him, her face giving off anger and there was a frown itching its way onto her face.

Well, Leo is lying if he said he didn’t want to fuck up this person along side her. However, these were mortals and if Bianca used her powers...

Hera please give him mercy for whoever crossed Firecracker’s path.

“Have you-“ he started, but the shake of her head cut him off right then. Oh thank gods, she hasn’t used her powers.

“Okay, so here’s what we are going to do. You are not going to hurt whoever caused this, and we’re going straight to fix you.” Leo moves to turn around his hand still gripping onto hers, getting ready to drag her to wherever.

Fate seemed to have other plans, by the way she ripped her arm out of his grip. “No, I’m going to settle this.” Firecrackers growled turning around and running in the opposite direction.

Leo stares at where Firecracker once was, a bit dumbfound expression passing over his face before he yells after her. “Bianca!” He yelled getting ready to sprint after her.

Well, he tried to sprint after her until he felt an arm wrap around his waist, hoisting him up in the air as the person zipped by. Leo nlinks his eyes when the next thing he knew, he was up in the air and screaming.

“HOLY MOTHER OF ZEUS PUT ME DOWN PUT ME DOWN PUT ME-“ Leo was not ashamed that he let out a girly scream, no siree. Let this moment pass gods dammit or so help him-

Once he felt his feet land against the safety of a roof, the son of Hephaestus places his hand against a nearby platform putting his hand over his racing heart. Yea, no this was worse than Jason picking him up and launching into the air.

“Uh, are you okay?” A voice caught him out of his panic, lifting his head up to meet the person who scared the living shît out of him.

What, or who, he was met with is a girl (who suspiciously has the same appearance as his deskmate), wearing a skin tight suit, black spots littering across her red spandex. Her hair was tied up in two pigtails, held by ribbons, a mask covering her eyes that has the same exact pattern of her suit. The first thing that came to mind...

“Marinette?” Leo asks confused, staring at the girl furrowing his eyebrows together. “Well, it’s not everyday when a beautiful girl swoops into saving me. The spandex is a good look on you.” He decided it would be best.

The way she sputtered only made him find it cute, watching the way her face went from surprise to shock, and then rounding it out into confusion. “Bu- how- how did you-“

“...It’s a mask?” Came out his own confused voice, staring at the girl in front of him. “You mean no one has noticed?!”

Maybe it was because of the mist?

Marinette, or whatever she called herself in this form, stared at the boy. “I- okay I will talk to you later about this, I have a job to do.” She got ready to throw her yo-yo, her thoughts started to jumble up with the possibility of Leo knowing. Holy crap, someone found out her ability, how is she able to tell the Master? What’s going to happen? Would she have to give up her miraculous?!

“Wait! What do you call yourself in this?” Leo stopped her, before she could leave.

Marinette turns her head towards Leo, a nervous smile spreading across her face.

“Ladybug, welcome to what we call the norm, Akumas. Bug out!”

And like that, she was gone.

#leonette #leo valdez #miraculous ladybug x percy jackson #leo x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #megan writes #adoration luck and fire

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sometimesrosy · 5 years

Note

Why do you keep shit talking about Bellarke antis? No one has to like the ship. Showrunner himself says it's a non romantic relationship and it's open for interpretation until they canonically stick to it. So why does it bother you when people call Bellarke platonic and it's not canon? When..It's not canon. There's nothing wrong with saying Bellarke is platonic. The showrunner himself and Eliza said it countless times but I see you ignoring it? Why? Jason said non romantic. Eliza said platonic.

Why do I keep shit talking them?

Because they’re assholes. You know they’re assholes. People attacking others and sending nasty anons and commenting so rudely on someone’s tweets? Those are assholes.

If people are upset by me calling people who take part in asshole behavior actual assholes, that’s their problem, and they should stop being assholes. Then I’ll stop calling them assholes.

If someone doesn’t believe in Bellarke anymore? I dont’ think that makes them assholes. If they start to preach the gospel of Bellarke being dead, that’s kind of an asshole move. You know the term “ship and let ship?” Blorke antis are looking to blow up the ship and drown anyone who still loves the ship.

It doesn’t BOTHER me when ex-bellarke fans say Bellarke is not happening, it disappoints me. I am SORRY that the people I used to enjoy this show with can’t see what I see, can’t see the bellarke of it all. I don’t really understand how they are MISSING the romance story on screen which clearly indicates that Bellarke is not dead but is actively happening.

And I don’t particularly like when I get anons who think all antis ever have a right to their bad opinions, but I don’t have a right to mine. I don’t comment on anyone’s tweets. I don’t hijack anyone’s posts. I don’t argue with anyone in their comments. I don’t send asks about anyone else’s shipping, anti or otherwise. And i certainly don’t send anons calling someone names like has happened to me.

Not shipping something is fine. Not believing the canon is fine too, I guess. I think it’s stupid. But if people want believe gossip without evidence except for the reputation of a person who has had a lot of really serious misinterpretations of canon, and has been TOLD so by people she then calls bad writers, when she was the one who failed to understand? I think that makes them suckers.

You call what I say, my CRITIQUE of fandom to be shit talking. ButI analyze fandom culture the same way I analyze canon. What people say, the patterns of behavior, the posts and comments, these are all the text that I am making sense of. The facts.

I find it really interesting that fandom thinks they are free to make judgments on everyone else, especially the canon, the characters, but also JR, the actors, and any fandom member who doesn’t believe what they believe, but once the criticism is turned on their OWN behavior and posts and comments, all of a sudden it’s unfair.

If y’all can’t take the shittalking then y’all should STOP shittalking.

If it’s ok for you to critique people you don’t know. Then it’s okay for them to critique you.

If you want me to side with fandom over JR, I can’t do it, because I see fandom being bullies. And it’s not like you are not aware that internet bullying is a problem... y’all just think somehow that if YOU do it, they deserve it. That you are righteous and you’re not *harassing* them, no, it’s a valid criticism because they didn’t give you the fucking ship you wanted in the exact way you wanted it and now you’ve been hurt.

Fandom is a mess.

And fandom will continue to be a mess until they decide to spend more time questioning their OWN behavior than they do questioning the showrunner’s or other fans.

And before you say I need to question my behavior, I have questioned my behavior since I came to fandom, and I have changed my behavior accordingly, from when I was perfectly open and accepting and willing to debate and engage with everybody, to now, where I’ve cut myself off from all types of communications, all sorts of people, and many types of media.

What you see now is a pissed off fan, whose been on the ugly side of this internet harassment and is telling you now. It doesn’t matter HOW wrong you think someone’s position, presence, or words are, if you harass them, tell them they’re wrong, invade their social media, send people after them, attack them, send nasty anons, spread lies and misinformation about them, and try to make other people hate them too, then you’re a bully. Fix you.

Y’all need to watch YOUR OWN behavior and stop blaming other people for the shit you do. Because it’s not good. You are deluding yourself if you think it is. You’re sending me an anon into my inbox AND challenging my ship. Because you are UNABLE to be respectful. I don’t know who you are. But I can see you’re one of the people I talk about in general.

PS: as usual, I don’t take word of god or actor commentary as part of canon. i analyze CANON. you know. the show. That some of us are watching and the rest of us are whining about because it doesn’t fit our fanon, so therefore is wrongWrongWRONG.

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beep-fucking-beeprichie · 5 years

Text

Well, that just happened I guess (smut warning)

Richie had tried, oh how he had tried. To choke back the quiver in his voice when Eddie was notably close to him, to cover it over with quick fire jokes and thick laughter.

He tried to break the unintentionally long gazes he'd throw in Eddie's direction when he admired the way he spoke, adjusting his glasses in the hope that it looked as though his gaze had been some place else.

He hoped his hair fell around his face just enough to cover his burning cheeks after Eddie would brush against him, the touch alone forcing him to bite down on the inside of his mouth because it were so welcome that it pained him inside and he didn't want to show it.

Oh how he had tried, but there had been no escape from what had been stirring inside of him since the day he first lay eyes on the smaller boy. That pang in his stomach and how the airy tone in his voice desperately clung to an attempt at forming words when around him.

Eddie Kaspbrak was perfect.

Richie had spent countless hours trying to make constellations out of the endless freckles on the other boy's face and the truth was, he dreamt of tracing along those exact constellations with his own fingers. He longed for his lips to follow those same patterns, kissing along every line, every dip, until he would meet the other boy's soft lips.

Here in his thoughts, Richie's hands, slender and shaking had cupped Eddie's face gently, eyes meeting Eddie's and whispering the unthinkable, "I'm in love with you"

Here in his thoughts, where Eddie's small hand has clasped at the shirt material at Richie's chest, his brown eyes unwavering, breathed those words back against Richie's lips.

Where tongues danced in a slow heated rhythm and hands sunk to the hips of the boy who now straddled Richie's lap, rocking to the same needy pace. Richie letting himself moan into Eddie's mouth, between wet, messy kisses.

Richie squeezeing his eyes shut, leaning back just a little as Eddie burried his face in Richie's neck, his fingers working clumsily over the button of Richie's shorts. Eddie's tongue, like fire lashing and nipping at his skin before lowering himself, positioned perfectly between Richie's legs, a single finger slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear.

Those brown eyes, fueled with a narrowed darkness that seemed to sparkle wildy looking up at Richie, as he proceeded to slip the waistband down with both hands now.

Richie felt the spasm of his stomach muscles beneath Eddie's touch, unable to conceal his arousal. "Eds, you don't have to..." He offered, words disconnected as Eddie's lips kissed the places where the waistband had covered.

The smaller boy's eyes flickered like golden flames, taking Richie's length into his hand, his fingers curling softly around his hardened cock. "I-I want to..." Eddie offered, beginning to stroke Richie into submission.

Richie's shoulders dropped back, unable to control his body's reaction to Eddie slowly working his shaft, with long flowing strokes. "Ah..mf..but-Eds"

"Shut up Richie" Was all he heard before he felt the sensation of Eddie's tongue licked it's way up his throbbing cock.

Eddie made teasing circles around his tip before sinking his lips around Richie's girth, the warmth so inviting that Richie let a whimper escape his throat, one hand trailing absently to the back of Eddie's head, fingers tangling in his hair.

Eddie gripped at the sides of Richie's thighs, using them as anchorage as he moved his mouth down the long length of Richie's cock, catching the underneath with his tongue, cheeks sunken and hollow as he took it deeper into his mouth.

"Ah..fuh-so good.." Richie's hips began to thrust upwards, matching Eddie's pace, his fingers tightening in Eddie's hair, forcing his bobbing head to be pushed downwards.

He moaned through the protestant sounds coming from Eddie's throat and felt the boy's fingers now grip more tightly at his thighs. Richie had never felt anything so good and he could hardly control himself.

Eddie felt Richie swelling in his mouth, he could feel Richie controlling his head, roughly forcing his length down Eddie's throat. Eddie moaned passed his lips and around Richie's cock which only made him become more relentless.

Richie could feel it now, burning inside of him and needing to release. Eddie greedily swallowing his cock deeply, wraps his fingers around the base Richie's shaft and strokes at a quickening pace in time with his mouth and Richie's hard thrusts.

"Eds..I-" Richie couldn't form the words, his back arched and he caught a glimps of the boy looking up a him, nodding in approval.

Eddie felt Richie's body contort beneath him, his cock pulsating and the warmth surge into his mouth as Richie came hard. Eddie let it spill down his throat, accepting the milky reward of his efforts. Richie's hand dropped to Eddie's shoulder as he slunk in his seat, breathing heavy, glases sitting crooked on the bridge of his nose.

Eddie dipped to the side, leaning his face against Richie's thigh, also collecting his breath, his mouth still warm with Richie's cum. He felt Richie's hand find it's way to his face, stroking his jaw line and caressing his cheek and Eddie nuzzled against it.

Richie sat motionless, indulging in these thoughts, only to be pulled from his fantasy by a tiny voice.

"Rich?..uh, Rich?"

Richie's eyes diverted from the place he had been staring at and straight to Eddie who was looking at him a little concerned

"Oh, uh...what?" He replied, voice broken and husky.

"Everything alright?" The smaller boy asked curiously.

"Uh...yeah Eds, everything's perfect. I-I was just thinking, ya know" Richie offered, brushing it off with a laugh.

"Oh, about what?" Eddie was always rather insistent and this time was no different.

Richie shifted uncomfortably in his spot, he could sense the burning on his cheeks again.

"Ya know, stuff Eds," He said cooly.

"Oh? What stuff? Tell me?" Eddie raised an eye brow and looked at him expectantly.

"I-I will tell you soon." Richie had no intentions of doing so.

"Soon?" Eddie scoffed, seemingly confused. "Sooon? What the fuck does that mean?"

"Just soon" Richie shrugged, admittedly getting a rise out of how cute Eddie was when he wasn't getting his way.

Eddie's eyes narrowed and Richie could feel the chaos intensifying. "Richie."

"Myeah, Eds?" Richie replied, smothering a giggle.

"Friends.Don't.Lie" And with that Eddie flew off the handle, ranting and raving how good friends don't keep secrets from eachother and that he better fess up or else.

Richie swallowed passed a nervous smile and thought to himself, if only you knew Eds, my deepest secret is wanting you.

#Reddie #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Richie #Eddie #R+E #smut #writing #fanfic #that'samood #crossoverreference #StrangerThings #IT

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ Moving Metal #2: Wheel of Power

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Previous

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Believe it or not, it took us a full day to reach Highway 35, and by the time we did, the sun was beginning to set. The sky was alive was dark red and orange, swirling together like an angry blaze. Sandstone covered the ground we drove on, kicking up dust something horrible. I had to roll up the window pretty quickly, all while ignoring the ‘I told you so’ look from Taro who had warned me about the window just an hour prior.

I turned up the AC because of how hot it was outside. The middle of summer in the desert at sundown. Can you imagine my struggle?

“Hey, Taro! Wylde’s here!” Monkey’s voice came over the radio, followed by loud coughs as said Maniac sped past us. Unfortunately, Monkey didn’t have the Taro warning system like I did and his window was down. “Hey! This isn’t a race!”

“It’s always a race.” Came Mark’s reply, making me resist the urge to slam my head against the dashboard. He really was impossible. He increased his speed, slamming his car into the female from Teku before hitting his brother’s car from behind. He quickly claimed the lead even though, as Monkey stated, it was not a race.

About ten minutes later, a building came into view. It was square, probably about three stories tall, and looked like it could fall apart with just a gust of wind. The walls barely covered the metal piping that held the building together.

A dark-skinned man with dreads stepped out of the shadows like some super villain, but when he spoke, his voice was something you’d expect from a hero. The man and Vert exchanged pleasantries.

“Vert. It’s been a long time.” The man had some type of accent, but I couldn’t place it for the life of me.

“Good to see you again.”

Monkey stepped forward. “Is that Tezla?”

I rested my forehead against Taro’s shoulder in place of a facepalm. I had been told the exact same stories that Monkey had and I knew that this man, whoever he may be, was definitely NOT Tezla.

“My name is Kadeem.” The man said with an air of pride. A few more notches North and it’ll border arrogance. “Who are you?”

“He’s just a freaky little Metal Maniac, Kadeem.” Kurt’s comment made both Taro and myself tense up and push away from the car.

I growled in annoyance. “Better a Maniac than a pansy Teku!”

“Yeah!” Mark agreed, slinging his tattooed arm over my shoulder. “Metal Maniacs are the best! Like me, Taro and Jae, huh?”

“Real drivers are Teku!” Kurt argued back.

“Let’s test that then, aye?” I cracked my knuckles as I stepped forward, daring him to move. The Metal Maniacs are multi-skilled, you see. Not only are we badass at driving, we’re damn skilled at beating the snot out of people.

Kadeem’s laugh broke through the tension. “Yes, I see how it is.”

He and Vert started to speak to one another, but I was too angry to care as Kurt an I stared each other down. He may be older than me, but I know I can beat him in a fight, and man did I want to beat his ass. I inched forward, but Taro grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me back to our side and giving me a look that clearly stated ‘knock it off’. I scoffed in annoyance, shooting the Teku one last glare before looking away. The day will come when I can beat that prick’s ass, but today is clearly not that day.

“So, if this is so important, it must pay a lot. Right?” Monkey’s question caught my attention, seeing as how I want to know the answer as much as he does.

Kadeem only laughed in response.

“Is that a yes?”

His laughter grew louder.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. The horrid combination of heat, anger and now this guys laughter had finally weighed down on me, gracing me with a splitting headache I knew would be near impossible to get rid of. I barely registered Taro gently pushing me toward the passenger seat.

Though it doesn’t happen very often, sometimes I get overwhelmed and when I do, I get these crippling headaches that render me… well, pretty much useless. Taro has been there for most of them, so he knows what to expect by now.

When the pain finally subsided enough for me to open my eyes, I found that we were in the middle of this strange rock maze. I faintly made out the sound of Kadeem ordering us to stay behind him.

Taro glanced at me.“Still with me?”

I grunted in response, trying to force myself to get a grip. I avoided looking out the window since the swirling of colors didn’t help my headache and only served to make my eyes hurt. Instead, I chose to stare at the back end of the Spinebuster, who happened to be in front of us. Before I realized what was happening, we had flown off the edge of a cliff and through a camouflaged opening in the side of a large rock formation.

We drove down a narrow hall before it opened up to this huge dome with a track twisting and turning towards the ceiling. I had never seen anything like it in my life. And just like that, the amazement overwhelmed the pain inside my brain. Taro opened my door but ordered me to stay put just to be on the safe side. I did as I was told.

“Woah, check it out.” Vert seemed just as amazed as I am, which seemed a bit strange considering what he must have witnessed during the World Race.

A bright yellow light shot out from the center of the dome, forming a man’s face. I knew instantly that the face belonged to Tezla. “Welcome… to the Acceledrome!”

His voice was loud and bounced from wall to wall, rattling my head.

“Gelorum and her drones have the wheel of power. Before the wheel was taken, I discovered that it’s more than just a source of power. It’s the key to something much bigger than Highway 35. Countless new tracks and unique new worlds that I call, the Racing Realms.”

Jeez, this guy sounds like a friggin’ commercial or advertisement. Can he get any more melodramatic?

“Reaching the end of Highway 35 was only the first step mapped out for us by the Accelerons.”

Monkey’s vehicle squealed to a stop behind us and I clenched my jaw at the sound, glaring at him as he popped the top half of his body out of his sunroof. “Did I miss anything?”

The group collectively turned to stare at him before looking back to the hologram.

“The journey of discovery… begins here.” The face swirled into a blur before a large ring appeared in its place. Two smaller rings were inside the first, like those Russian nesting dolls. It spun around in a slow circle.

We followed Kadeem to a room with a large table and plenty of chairs. Naturally, the Teku sat on one side, while the Maniacs took the other. Kadeem took the head of the table.

In the center was a miniature ring, an exact replica of the large one.

“Which one is the wheel of power?” The female Teku questioned.

“They are both holograms,” Kadeem answered as a female in overalls entered the room, picking up where he left off. That robot was right behind her.

“Exact three-dimensional recreations.”

“Lani!” Vert smiled. “It’s great to see another Waveripper.”

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. She certainly didn’t look familiar to me.

“I’m not driving, Vert. I’ve been working with Tezla in the Acceledrome. He didn’t tell me who was coming.” She narrowed her eyes at Taro and it clicked.

Lani… the reason the name sounded so familiar was from Mark and Taro’s World Race stories. She was one of the drivers and apparently she and Taro dated for some time before breaking up. Judging from that look and the tone of her voice, it didn’t end on a happy note.

“Awkward,” I muttered to myself, earning a glare from the man next to me. I coughed and shifted in my seat as the robot started to circle us.

“While studying the wheel, Dr. Tezla recorded a unique pattern of its wavelengths and vibrations.” It explained.

“Yeah, yeah. Scrap the lecture, Gig. We’re here to race.” Mark placed his huge feet on the table, leaning back in the chair with his hands on the back of his head. Typical Mark.

Wait… what did he say? Gig? So I guess that robot does have a name. Maybe I shouldn’t go around saying ‘it’ anymore.

It, I mean, Gig, continued. “The holographic image resonates with the same imminations of the actual wheel of power.”

Monkey looked confused, as usual. “Is he speaking English? He’s speaking English, right?”

“In a very real sense, the image is the wheel.”

“And that means…?” The female Teku asked what we were all thinking. I should probably learn her name, too, huh.

Lani answered, “Dr. Tezla believes the wheel of power has been opening the Racing Realms.”

“My headache is coming back.” I groaned softly.

Taro stood and walked toward the glass wall over-looking the large wheel.

“And that Gelorum’s racing drones have been entering them,” Gig added.

“We must reach the end of the next realm before the racing drones.” Kadeem had become very serious. The change from cheerful weighed heavy on me. It all felt like a dream, but it also felt like everything was about to become very real very fast.

“Why should we? Last time it was to get the wheel for Tezla. What does the doctor want now?” Kurt accused.

Where the hell did he even come from? He was not sitting there a minute ago.

“The drones have already accessed several racing realms.” Gig explained. “Dr. Tezla believes that with each new realm, they become more powerful.”

“Whatever’s at the end of the racing realms must be even more powerful,” Kadeem added.

Monkey laughed and I knew what he was going to say before it even left his mouth. “Well if it’s that powerful, it must be worth a lot of money! Right?”

Kadeem started to laugh again, and I was growing annoyed by it. It’s not that difficult to just say yes or no.

“Why is he laughing?” Monkey asked, sitting back down in defeat.

“Now more than ever, the best drivers are needed.” Gig said just as a loud alarm began to echo through the building.

“It’s moving,” Taro announced. Sure enough, both the large and miniature wheels were now turning, each ring moving in a different direction.

Lani approached the window. “A new realm is about to open.”

“Alright, come on!” Mark sounded like a kid on Christmas, and I found myself smiling. “Let’s go!”

“We need Nitrox,” Vert announced.

The alarm grew louder as we got back to the cars. Those who already have the tanks installed refilled theirs, while the rest installed the tanks themselves.

The smallest ring stopped moving, the symbol on its side illuminating. It looked like a baby snake or a worm… or maybe just a squiggly line.

Monkey picked up the tank of Nitrox, looking between it and Taro. “What exactly does this juice do?”

“You’ll see,”

I raised my brow at Taro’s response.

The second ring stopped.

The third stopped and then a large ball of blue light appeared in the middle of the smallest one.

“The racing realm is open,” Gig announced, barely audible over the screeching of the alarm.

I hopped into the passenger seat and Taro took off before I could even close the door. One by one, the drivers formed a line and entered the sky-high track. A machine sped up the vehicle, the force pushing us back against our seats as the speedometer soared to life, easily reaching almost two hundred miles per hour.

“You must be going three hundred miles per hour when you’ve reached the wheel,” Kadeem announced over the radio.

His words made my stomach tingle as the adrenaline inside my body stirred to life. My lips twitched up as our speed gradually increased. One more machine at the end of the track propelled us past the three hundred mark as we soared into the swirling blue abyss.

I heard the realm before I could see it.

Thunder, loud and angry, rattled the car as the flash of bright light faded. Mark’s cries of there being no track snapped me out of my daze and I frantically looked around. We were falling through the air, surrounded by thick clouds of purple and black. Thunder roared overhead and lightning struck down in the distance. It felt like we fell forever, my heart sinking at the thought that there might not be a track at all. Monkey started screaming and my heart pounded faster against my rib cage.

It felt like an eternity of falling and I briefly wondered if this was hell, when the track finally came into view. My heart rate didn’t slow until the wheels touched the track and we zoomed after Kadeem and Mark, who had landed first.

“Yo, this is wicked.” I stared at the swirling clouds lit up by strikes of lightning, cutting through them like a knife through warm butter. Don’t ask me why, but I’ve always had a thing for storms. They always made me feel peaceful and happy, though a part of me was wishing that it was raining, as well.

“Does anybody know what’s holding this track up?”

I couldn’t tell if Kadeem was being serious or joking.

“Ask the Accelerons,” Taro commented. I found myself grinning at his response.

The track started to turn, creating a tornado down into the clouds. The lightning was no longer in the distance – it was dangerously close now.

The track changed direction again, shooting up into the sky and forming a loop like a roller coaster then plunging straight down in the most wicked verticle line I’ve ever seen.

“Can anybody hear me? What’s the situation?” Lani reached out over the radio.

Monkey was the one to respond and I almost started laughing. “Whatever this dude’s paying us, it’s not enough!”

“Who said anything about being paid?” Gig asked. If he hadn’t been a robot, I would swear that he said that sarcastically.

I howled with laughter when Monkey screamed after hearing the response. I had never felt as alive as I do at this moment. My adrenaline is pumping, working through every inch of my body. I want to drive so badly! Why did I have to leave my car behind and ride with Taro to the race?

After the track straightened out, lightning rods appeared on both sides of the track. Lightning struck down from the sky like a vengeful god, sending power to the rods as they connected with one another through the currents of electricity.

Taro dodged the shocks as they flew from the rods to the track itself, making the drivers swerve back and forth to avoid them. I could see a flash of light hit Kurt’s car, the window shattering as it lost all power. I vaguely wondered if we should help, but the thought was quickly left behind as we passed him. He has his own teammates to help him.

We didn’t just have the lightning to worry about anymore. The farther we got, the harder it became to see thanks to a thick cloud of fog. I could barely see the tail lights of whoever was in front of us.

We were both struggling to see, but I guess Taro’s sight is slightly better than my own. He noticed the car heading straight for us way before I did, and he managed to swerve to avoid it. Unfortunately, the sharp turn of the wheel sent my side of the car straight into one of the lightning rods. The sudden stop sent a jolt through my body as the straps of the seat knocked the wind out of me. Man, having boobs is really inconvenient!

“You okay, Taro?”

He was rubbing his head, growling in anger. He said he was fine, but I could tell that he was feeling the impact as much as I was. Well, you know, except the whole boob-in-pain thing.

“The racing drones are here,” Kadeem announced, and it clicked into place in my mind. That’s what that thing was? Because he sure as hell was not racing!

“Where? I don’t see any racing – ” Monkey’s voice suddenly got very low. “- drones…”

I scowled. “Let’s kick some ass, Taro!”

He nodded in agreement and we took off, passing a broke down Mark on our way. I radioed to make sure he was good, to which he promptly made fun of me for quote ‘worrying about him’. Pft, that’s the last time I ask him if he needs help!

The fog was starting to clear and I could finally see up ahead of us. “Taro, we caught up to the drones!”

Without a word, he pressed down on the gas and rammed the closest one from behind. The force of the impact sent the drone spinning out and we zoomed past. In front of us was Kadeem, with a drone in front of him.

“Good, Taro! We can take on these drones together!”

“I’m gonna pass you.”

I whipped my head around to see that the drone had recovered himself and was now behind Kadeem with another one close behind. Just how many of these things are there?

The drone at the back of the line did something strange – he hit the drone in front of him, sending him off the track. It was then my eyes caught sight of the wire attached to the back of Kadeem’s car, dragging him over the edge.

I glanced at Taro, but he was too focused on the track in front of him. Biting my lip, I decided not to say anything. Kadeem had been racing these realms long before we came along. He’ll be fine.

Right…?

I turned around and shook my head. I had to stay focused on the task at hand. Even if I’m not the one driving, I can still assist Taro.

Three drones were driving in front of us, forming a wall to prevent others from passing. Taro increased his speed and rammed the one in the middle. The force sent the drone struggling for control and in that struggle, he managed to miss a ball of lightning that hit the track.

I screamed Taro’s name, but he didn’t have enough time to dodge it. It hit us head on, encasing the car in electricity and sending us rolling across the track. I could feel the pain surging through my entire body. It was nothing like earlier when he hit the rod. No, this pain was intense and horrible, like I had just shoved a wet fork into a light socket. My body started to grow numb, and I struggled to keep my eyes open.

“Ta… ro…” I managed out, but he was out cold.

I tried to hold on. Maybe if I could stay conscious until the pain subsided, I could recover from it. All I could think about was the unconscious man next to me. I started to remember my life before I met him and the other maniacs, how drastically everything changed after I met them after they took me in. After they became my family.

I tried to reach for the radio, but I couldn’t feel my arm. My body felt heavy like I had a garbage truck sitting on top of every limb. It was becoming harder to keep my eyes open, and I fought as hard as I could. I don’t know how long I lasted, but my body finally failed me and my eyes closed. All of the sounds around me started to fade until there was nothing left.

Nothing but darkness and silence.

Is this where I die?

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sicut-in-caelo-et-in-terra · 5 years

Text

Frozen II is C A T H O L I C

Frozen II spoilers below.

I saw Frozen II a few days ago, and I was very impressed. I understand why some people did not like it; the four elements theme has been done countless times before. The songs, while often musically impressive and a great way to showcase Idina’s voice, were not as poetic or thematically rich as those in the first film. The expository dialogue was also rather weak, certain things like the mothers scarf - “I know you’re stressed out because you’re wearing Mother’s scarf” - were introduced to the plot somewhat uncreatively.

That said, it was an excellent story that stood its own. Frozen II was able to be so good because it explored a separate part of the story and of the characters that was not explored in the first film. It built on the development that Elsa and Anna experienced six years prior without doing too much along the lines of retconning in some unexplored part of each character.

Also, I was very pleased that the film seems to be extremely deliberately Catholic.

Before I move into the heavy hitters, here’s a few Catholic themes I noticed:

During Kristoff’s third attempt to propose to Anna, he gets caught in his own words and keeps repeating “well, we eventually will die, we will die one day!” It was intended to be a funny bit of dialogue as he stumbles around trying to say what he truly wants to say, but I thought it was also a nice nod to the Catholic theme of memento mori, and clued me into the Catholicism throughout.

Speaking of Kristoff, his anguish surrounding his love of Anna was evocative of a lot of Catholic thought. Particularly in his song, he speaks of his fears that the two are growing apart. For me, it really displayed the philosophy of love as a choice and an active decision, rather than as a feeling that comes and goes.

Kristoff also reminds me a lot of St. Joseph. He’s the man in the little family who also happens to be the least central part of the narrative, but he loves Anna with all his heart and he loves Elsa like a sister. He is the one who loads up the cart and puts his family on the road to go a far distance for the story to begin once Elsa receives her call. He displays especially Josephan levels of virtuous trust and obedience at the very end, when Anna is being chased by the earth giants and he saves her, asking “where do you need to go?” When she tells him that they need to destroy the dam, he responds only with “You got it,” and does everything in his power to make it happen, even though he was the one to originally notice that the destruction of the dam means the destruction of Arandelle. Not only this, but he loves and trusts Anna so much that he willingly puts her into mortal danger at her request, because he believes that she knows what the right thing to do is, even if that means the sacrifice of her life for her, and the sacrifice of his beloved for Kristoff.

Olaf is a character that exhibits the childlike innocence and joy exhorted by Jesus in the gospels and illuminated by the writings of St. Therese of Lisieux. Olaf is carefree and does respect and revere adults (even wishing to have some of their wisdom and courage, as he explains in his song), but he has this littleness about him where he can just enjoy his life that he knows he has been blessed with. In both Frozen and Frozen II, despite his apparent immaturity he knows his exact place and purpose, which is to love, and he accepts his own death with such beautiful grace because he knows he has done what he was made for, and he is happy.

During Elsa’s first song, Into the Unknown, she talks consistently about this calling to adventure that she has, but an unwillingness to follow it. She, like the rich young man in the Gospels (Matthew 19:16-28, Mark 10:17-31, Luke 18:18-30), has all that she has ever wanted, and she has had her own great conversion in the past. She lives a good life, and rules her kingdom with justice and righteousness, but there is still something more, something that she was created for. A call from God that she could not reject, and it continued to call her like a voice in the night until she set off to do what she was created to do. This can also be an allegory for discernment of the priesthood.

Original Sin

“The harmony in which they had found themselves, thanks to original justice, is now destroyed: the control of the soul’s spiritual faculties over the body is shattered, the union of man and woman is subject to tensions ... Harmony with creation is broken: visible creation has become alien and hostile to man.” (CCC 400).

Much like the fall of Adam, the betrayal of Elsa’s grandfather left three major ruptures: between man and nature (now Gale, the fire salamander, the water horse, and the earth giants are at odds with the people, wreaking havoc and attacking on sight until each are subdued by Elsa), between man and woman or man and other men (the Arandellians and the northern people are at war with each other; those who are trapped in the forest together remain at war with one another through all thirty-four years, until Elsa comes to unify them), and between man and himself, causing him to die (as Grandfather was killed in the very battle he started to create the disuinity, it can also be seen as manifested by Elsa’s lack of control over her power in the first film).

Each of these ruptures had to be rectified by Elsa, the film’s Christ figure. Elsa was the only one who was able to tame the four elemental spirits. Elsa, who was fully man and fully divine, an incarnation of the fifth elemental spirit.

Elsa and the Fifth Spirit

Elsa, with her dual nature, was destined to heal the sin of her grandfather, and to bridge the gap between humans and nature. She could do so because she was a human, and could therefore represent the humans to see their sins, and she could sufficiently approach the spirit of nature because she was the incarnate form of the spirit. She had to be both, just like Jesus had to be both.

We have already known that Elsa was a Christ figure since the first film, where she ran across the water, but this film solidified it with her death and resurrection. When she went into the chamber of the fifth element (literally jumping into an abyss), she saw all of the sins of man, most principally those of her grandfather. Just as in the garden of Gethsemane Jesus experienced all sin since the sin of Adam and reversed it by giving his life, Elsa was able to enable the reversal of her grandfather’s sin only through her own death. (Her death was a participation in the same death Anna went through in the first movie, a death due to a frozen heart. This is evocative of imagery of stony hearts in Ezekiel 36:26, which God will remove and replace with natural hearts).

It is also significant that Elsa is the descendant of the man whose sin put everyone in this mess; Luke makes sure to let us know that Jesus was a descendant of Adam so that his sin could be truly reversed (Luke 3:23-38). Elsa is also the descendant of her father, the good king, destined, then, to rule Arandelle - just as Jesus was the descendant of David and destined to rule Israel, as emphasized by Matthew (Matthew 1:1-17).

Elsa is ontologically a Creator, as shown when Olaf, her creation, is clearly contingent upon her since he cannot exist in her absence.

The fifth spirit has much of the same imagery as God. It abides in a place inaccessible to man (which people attempt to reach but cannot; they instead die trying as in the Tower of Babel) but, we see during Elsa’s Show Yourself that this abode is a palace much like Elsa’s that she built for herself. This is the residence of a king, but which no human can enter, like the Holy of Holies.

In this place, Elsa’s clothing becomes bright white and she sees (and kind of converses) with her dead mother (who herself was pleasing to the Fifth Spirit after an act of love). It is reminiscent of the Transfiguration, when Jesus’s “clothes became white as the light” (Matthew 17:2) and he spoke with Moses and Elijah.

The Fifth Spirit always appears as a fractal pattern, as the centerpiece surrounded by the four spirits:

which is evocative of apocalyptic imagery of God as seen in Ezekiel 1 and Revelation 4, as He is always accompanied by the four Seraphim, the four “living creatures.”

After Elsa experiences her resurrection, she is seen by the entirety of Arandelle saving the entire kingdom from the tidal wave, dispersing the water (which is Biblically a symbol of primordial chaos), and then returning to the north, where it is said that “she belongs,” where she is in communion with the spirits from whence she came. However, she is still present to Arandelle, returning for charades, and is still their queen (although Anna has taken over the office).

So, too, did Jesus ascend into Heaven, although He remains present with us.

Anna is the Pope

The most Catholic thing of the movie after Elsa’s Christ journey is the clear imagery of the Church at the end. For most of the film, Elsa and Anna’s relationship is characterized by a sense of Anna saying “where are you going?” and Elsa saying “Where I am going, you cannot follow me now,” and Anna replying with “why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (these are are pretty close to the actual dialogue of the movie but these are exact quotes from John 13:36-38, an exchange between Jesus and Peter).

Additionally, at the end there is a moment where Elsa is seen riding across the water in the distance and Anna spies her and runs to meet her, you’re almost certain Anna is going to jump into the water and try to run out to her like Peter did in Matthew 14:22-33, but it cuts so that Elsa reaches the shore when Anna does.

Anna is also the first person to verbally say that Elsa is one and the same with the Fifth Spirit, just as Peter is the first to vocalize the fact that Jesus is the Son of God.

Elsa and Anna speak of this “bridge” metaphor, where “a bridge has two sides.” Elsa is the mediator between the north and Arandelle (Jesus is the mediator between God and man) but Elsa belongs in nature, and needs a representative to guide Arandelle in her name. She specifically picks Anna for this task, as Jesus specifically picks Peter as the rock upon which he builds His Church. “Pontifex,” a title for the Pope, means “bridge builder.”

Like the Church on Earth, Jesus is still present and guides the Magisterium in shepherding the flock. At the end of Frozen II, we see Anna sending messages in the wind (much like the flow of incense) to her Queen. They maintain a relationship of friendship and sisterhood, as well as deep respect.

#catholic #christian #frozen #frozen 2 #frozen 2 is catholic #movie #movie review #long post

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rockthistowninsideout · 5 years

Text

So you might know that I’m writing an October Man fanfic. I’ve already published the cover and two chapters. What would follow would be chapter three, but that’s not finished yet.

What is finished, though, is chapter four and I want to share it with you because I’m really proud of it. Until further notice only here on tumblr.

Thomas Nightingale is not the only tragic gay practitioner from whom the War took everything...

When the door buzzed, I suddenly felt it: herbal liqueur, heavy machines stomping, a dust of coal that triggered a cough even though the air was as clean and fresh as a daisy.

A signare.

As I had noticed in my first KDA case, I was remarkably sensitive for magical traces even though I had never had anything to do with it beforehand. Thanks to that and the training I had received by now, I knew instinctively what was about to come. I pulled Tobi, whose frown told me that he had reached the same conclusion, behind my back and opened the door.

A sizzling werelight shot out of the door with a blazing white train trailing behind it. It stopped midway hovering above the weedfree pavement before it suddenly made a sharp beeline and came racing towards us.

I watched in horror - I was lucky if my werelights lasted longer than a minute and shone as bright as a flashlight - but then my view was blocked because Tobi yanked me back and stepped in front of me. A heartbeat later, the feisty werelight burst into a thousand sparks. I took a deep breath.

Tobi turned to me. "You okay?"

I exhaled relieved. "Thank you, yes. What about you?"

He just nodded and rounded the still open door. As I followed him I saw an elderly man now standing in the doorway, a rogueish smile gleaming in his piercing blue eyes. He might have been around eighty, judging by the crowfeet around those eyes and the many creases around his mouth that was curled upwards in one corner. His hair, though, was mostly still black. While my eighty-three-year-old grandpa needed a wheeled walker all the time, the man in front of us didn't; on the contrary, his stance was square and precise, despite the protruding belly, as if he'd been in the military before retiring.

"Paul Arno Rossbusch?" Tobi asked in a professional tone, though I heard a certain edge of wariness in his voice. He tried to make it not too obvious but I felt how he erected a shielding spell in front of him.

The man nodded. "The one and only." He huffed and scrutinized Tobi from head to toe, amused by something I couldn’t place. Maybe he knew that Tobi’s shield was useless against his repertoire.

Tobi and I held up our ID's. While I was a little impressed with his skills, I definitely couldn't let slide how he had demonstrated them. "You are aware, Mr Rossbusch, that your werelight classifies as attack on enforcement officers? That can earn you a jail term from three months up to five years. I guess that would not be the way you want to spend the rest of your pension" I said sharply.

Rossbusch just waved. "Nah, it was merely a test. Bianca had called and said that the wizard police was on their way."

We exchanged a glance. He certainly was a practitioner himself, why did he use incorrect terminology?

"So you call yourself a wizard?" Tobi asked slyly?

He laughed. "God forbid! I share a certain dislike for the police with my granddaughter, is all. But please, come in. There are no practitioners around here anymore."

We followed him into a typical GDR single-family house, the one we had seen countless identical times since leaving the A4 in Schmölln this morning. I supposed that the uninspired grey plastering was still original.

Inside, the vestibule was already crowded with only three people standing in it, before we proceded through the hall and then into the kitchen. Its floor was tiled in a black and white checkerboard pattern, footworn but polished, and the cupboard fronts were brown and a faded white, dulled by grease and dust and years of use.

"Do you want a coffee?" Rossbusch asked and turned to a coffee brewer, aside from the ceramic glass cooktop the only new-looking appliance here.

"Yes, thank you" we said simultaneously, then chuckled both. Before joining the KDA I would have said “Jinxed” to this but now I was more careful because I could actually get jinxed.

While the brewer was fizzling, Rossbusch leaned against the countertop and crossed his arms. "Bianca was reluctant to tell me what exactly brings you here, so please enlighten me."

Tobi stood up straight, scraping together all possible inches, but he was still half a head shorter than Rossbusch. Positioning his thumbs in the belt loops of his cargo pants, he said "We are investigating the incident on the A72 construction side. Witnesses say that there was a supernatural force involved."

"A supernatural force!" Rossbusch huffed. "What kind of supernatural is that supposed to be?"

"Actually, we are the ones asking questions" I said with a raised eyebrow.

Tobi lifted his right hand just a bit to shush me. "My colleague's actually right but because you might have useful information for us I'm gonna tell you. The witness said something about ghosts."

Immediately, Rossbusch's brow furrowed. "Ghosts? There? I don't know about that. And if, then they are either not recorded or haven't been ghosts for long. The only ghosts that I know of walk abroad in Peche, Geitn, Grimme, and Flößberch. But maybe that one stayed under the radar? Since my time in Flößberch, I'm out of sorts with ghosts. They're nothing but trouble." He snuffled disparagingly.

I had pulled out my notepad to keep track but stumbled over the places he'd named. "Uhm, sorry, could you repeat the towns?" I asked, still trying to make sense of the names.

He eyed me for long moment before said with a sneer "You're not local, aren't you. Pardon my Saxonian dialect. The official names are Pegau, Geithain, Grimma, and Flößberg, young lady."

"Don't call me 'young lady'" I muttered grouchily. Those places I faintly recognised from the map I had studied while we'd been driving to Rossbusch's place.

"What happened in Flößberg?" Tobi asked in a tone that raised my hackles. It sounded as if he knew of something I didn't.

Rossbusch seemed to have noticed that, too, because when I saw his cold stare another shiver ran down my spine. I hoped that Tobi knew what he was doing.

Just in that moment the coffee brewer beeped, and Rossbusch turned to fill us all a cup. After having taken a long sip, despite the coffee being scaldingly hot, he finally said "Flößberg was my Ettersberg. Did you know that Flößberg was a subcamp to Buchenwald? So you bet your ass that they did the exact same thing. Originally, I'm from Leipzig, taught by Wilhelm August Großmann, esteemed publisher and one of the most flamboyant practitioners of the 1920s -"

A shell-shocked "The what?" slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. If he had been a young man in the 1920s he shouldn't be alive anymore.

Rossbusch directed his cold stare at me now. "I don't like to be interrupted" he hissed.

I shrunk under his gaze and apoligizingly said "Sorry! Go on, please."

He cleared his throat and resumed as if I'd never interrupted him. "We met at the St. Thomas Choir. I was a pupil, just about fifteen, and he was the half-brother of our cantor Karl Straube. They disliked each other passionately, Straube was one of the first to enter the NSDAP while Wilhelm, considerably younger than Straube, was more or less openly homosexual and a big fan of jazz music. I realized pretty quickly that Wilhelm was interested in me in a way that surpassed friendliness. Today he'd be seen as a pedophile, and I agree on that now. But back then I was flattered and, yes, later on also hopelessly in love with him."

He took another sip from his coffee. I noticed that I'd held my breath and inhaled needily.

Rossbusch continued. "He showed me what he knew which was more than I could have ever dreamt of. He was a registered practitioner - that brought about his downfall. But I guess that Straube had his fare share in his brother's deportation by ratting him out to the authorities in 1932. He was sentenced to eight years in gaol before being deported to Auschwitz. It's not recorded what happened afterwards but I guess he was gassed upon arrival. I doubt that he was 'strong enough' to carry out any work."

He paused again and stayed quiet for a long time, his face a mask of unfathomable grief. I tried my best to keep my professional façade up but internally I was shaking. I wondered what had happened to Rossbusch.

After another stretch of silence he finally spoke again. "I was spared because I fled Leipzig right after Hitler's rise to power and hid with my parents who had a farm somewhere in the countryside. Still, they found me in '44 and deported me to Flößberg, for both being gay and a practitioner. They had offered me redemption by joining the army. But I refused. Because Ettersberg was bursting at the seams, and Flößberg was, as I said, a subcamp I was sent there. I guess that this saved my life. This and the fairies populating the forest. I'd strayed there while working on train tracks, and only emerged a few days before the camp was closed and we were all deported back to Weimar until the Allies freed the camp. The Folly raid had already happened, otherwise they might have killed me as well."

He shrugged. I shot Tobi a glance. The Folly was the British version of the KDA, led by Thomas Nightingale. He and his decision to train an apprentice were basically the reason why Tobi and I were standing here. By having an apprentice, Nightingale had broken a treaty between Germany and Great Britain. I was not too mad about it as it gave me the chance to become a practitioner myself. And I hoped that one day I would meet Nightingale and Peter. And if it was just to ask what exactly had happened in Buchenwald. The concentration camp that I had visited during my school time was Natzweiler-Struthof near Natzwiller in France.

I wondered why he had spoken so freely about his trauma when he had admitted earlier that he didn’t think too highly of us. But I realized that we were, beside his granddaughter, the only people he could disclose his true identity to. From what I knew, the Director had been the only registered practitioner for a long time. That’s why she’d been chosen as head of our Department. I suspected that Rossbusch was unregistered, despite some secret decrees on both sides of the Iron Curtain during the Cold War that required well-trained practitioners. Maybe he’d pledged himself to never serve an authoritarian regime after his experiences under Nazi rule.

“This is truly heartbreaking” Tobi acknowledged after some moments of reflection, “But I fear that we have to establish you as an unregistered practitioner. Usually, this is followed up by severe consequences for the suspect, especially when having gone unnoticed for so long, but maybe, considering the traumatic events in your early life a reprimand will suffice. That’s not our decision to make, though. Now back to the reason we’re actually here for.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine and gave him a long look. That man had just spilled his heart out, was probably right back in the camp after having torn his scarred wounds open for us, and Tobi wanted to go back to business just like that?

One of his eyebrows shot up, asking what I wanted from him, and I jerked my head sideways towards Rossbusch who just in that moment broke his mug because he’d held it too tight.

We both jumped while Rossbusch, muttering “sorry” under his breath, cast a cleaning spell. The splinters reassembled in the air between us until the mug was perfectly whole again.

“Err, Mr Rossbusch, what I actually meant to say is: If you see yourself able I would like to ask you one more question about the ghosts that you talked about. Maybe one of them turns out to be our suspect after all” Tobi asked more gently now.

Rossbusch chuckled. “I highly doubt that. But sure, I if it makes you happy I can tell you.” He refilled his cup, took a sip, and continued “In Pegau, in 1664, died a young man at the hands, actually at the beak, of a gander which slashed the man’s wrists and he bled to death. That happened as part of a morbid form of people’s merriment: The gander was hung between two poles and young men contended on horses to take the poor animal down. The young man’s fate is the late gander’s revenge, I suppose.

In Geithain, a cry of dismay can be heard every once in a while. It stems from a young choir boy’s ghost who died when he and his friends wanted to steal the young of a jackdaw. He had climbed up to the nest but refused to share the offspring and so the other boys let him fall down the tower. A stone at the church commemorates this incident.

In Grimma, a wedding was cursed when attending students sang reworked funeral songs that send the bride to a grave and prophesied her resurrection. Three days later, the bride died from the plague, a few days later also the groom and the bride’s two brothers.

And the camp in Flößberg was filled with ghosts. All those who’d died there haunted the place because they’d been left to rot in a mass grave only a few feet away from the barracks. Most of them were Jews, one or two I knew a little closer but most of them I had just seen a couple of times in camp before I’d disappeared. When I came back the camp was hopelessly overcrowded, and the ghosts just made it more claustrophobic. But they’re all at rest now since the place’s become a proper memorial site. I think that’s a dead end for you.”

“Please leave it to us what is and what isn’t relevant” Tobi said coolly before extending a hand. “Nevertheless, thank you for your time and my sympathies for the loss of your loved one.”

Rossbusch just waved and led us outside. After I’d said goodbye as well and we sat in Tobi’s VW I said “I think he’s right, you know. That his ghost stories are a dead end for us.”

Tobi admitted through gritted teeth after a moment of hesitation “Yeah, I know. But I still think it’s a good idea to check them, just in case. We should drive there and have a look.”

“But not today. It’s late and I’m tired. I count on our ghost to not kill anyone during the night.” I all but whined and tried to stretch myself in the limited space that I had.

Tobi nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. And I suppose you’re also hungry?“ He smiled.

I grinned and asked in feigned surprise “How do you know?”

#rivers of london #the october man #ben aaronovitch #tobias winter #vanessa sommer #my oc #my stories

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nadziejastar · 5 years

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How do you think Lea and Isa went from lab rats to Organization members? It makes sense that Xehanort would recruit Isa if he had already become a vessel, but why would they keep Lea around instead of just disposing of him like they presumably did to countless other test subjects?

Fear: Axel’s True Weakness

I would say there were three main reasons. The first is that Lea was Isa’s weakness. If they kept Axel around, they could control Saïx better. He may be another Xehanort, but he still wanted revenge, and genuinely teamed up with Axel. He’s more complacent if he thinks he’s working towards his own goals.

The second reason is that Axel didn’t train himself to be an assassin. He may not have been vessel material, but there’s no reason to believe Isa was the only one subjected to mind control. Females are said to be better at dissociating, so since Isa was more feminine, perhaps Axel was not deemed worthy and was given another role.

You can’t do a proper mind control plot without researching the subject first. I’m sure Nomura and his team did their homework. In my opinion, Axel was inspired by Delta programming.

Slaves are threatened with fire, like the Scarecrow. They also see people dismembered like the Scarecrow was dismembered. For them it is not an idle threat. The front alters also have hearts full of pain like Scarecrow.

The Wizard of Oz is a very popular movie used in mind control programming. A subject can be Dorothy: lost in a tornado, stuck in chaos, perpetually spinning out of control. Or the Cowardly Lion: Living in fear and the inability to act, making decisions based on fear. Or The Tin Man: only able to react in certain situations, frozen in others. These are just a few of the many characters that are used.Subjects are threatened with fire.

Pg. 38 Book 1 The Wizard of Oz: “That is true,” said the Scarecrow. “You see,” he continued, confidently, “I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin into me, it doesn’t matter, for I can’t feel it.”

They are told they can’t feel anything.

“It’s because I don’t have a heart,” Axel went on. “I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.”

Naminé tried to say something and failed.

Nobodies aren’t supposed to exist. Nobodies don’t have hearts, so they can’t feel anything.

It sounds just like Axel.

Pg. 79 Book 3 Ozma of Oz: “I am only a ma-chine, and can-not feel sor-row or joy, no mat-ter what hap-pens.”

That type of mechanical dissociation also coincides with Tin Man programming.

Certain alters are not given courage and most have their hearts taken from them. The alters who are programmed not to have hearts are hypnotically told the same thing the Tin Man says, “I could be human if I only had a heart.” …..Some alters are taught they are stupid and have no brain.

They are told they have had their hearts taken from them, and that they would be human only if they had one.

How is a man-made puppet any less worthy than a Nobody that was never meant to exist at all? They’re both ambiguous. Tenuous at best.

Just like Axel.

On page 38 is a poem about a Mr. Nobody. The programmers like to have alters identify themselves as “nobody”. On page 39 is a poem/story about “someone” who comes tapping…but it is “only the cricket whistling”.

They are literally told they are a “nobody”.

Axel: We are just Nobodies who have no one to be, yet we still “are.” But now you can be nothing instead of just being a Nobody. You’re off the hook.

Sounds just like Axel. When he kills Vexen, he says he has “no one to be”.

Learning ‘Over the Rainbow’ in Oz is for the slave to be in a trance, and into a certain area of the programming. To be fluctuating at both ends as an observer and not a participant or to go to the other extreme and become a participant. The theme song of the movie goes, “Somewhere over the Rainbow…there’s a land where the dreams that you dare to dream really come true.” These lyrics are a method to hypnotically confuse the brain to perceive that the “over the Rainbow experience” (which is usually horrible abuse) is a “dream”.

In Delta programming, the trainers will record delta waves on an EEG, and try to get the subject to always stay in delta state. They will do this using drugs, hypnosis and trauma. The trainers will often flash a cue, or delta (triangle) symbol on a projector overhead, and “grind in” the delta imprinting. They will wear robes with delta signs on them, and clothe the subject in robes imprinted with the delta sign.

As you can see, Delta brain patterns involve the unconscious mind and sleep. And that is one of the biggest themes of the Dark Seeker Saga. It’s what the whole Realm of Sleep was based on. The Delta trainers will teach the subject under hypnosis what deltas do, and how they act. They will be given delta jobs, and they will watch high frequency films that show delta functions. They may use a computer-like structure, showing pictures while the subject is under a deep trance. This is after creating a clean slate through trauma.

Delta programming was originally designed to train special agents and espionage agents’ minds for becoming terrorists devoid of fear and basic self preservation instincts. They are trained to be capable of incredible feats of physical endurance and murder. The Delta program was interested in training a new breed of man—one who kills and, if caught, self-destructs. This is why Axel is so fucked up, in my opinion. And I really don’t blame him one bit for it. He’s fucked up, but he’s still a saint considering what he must have gone through. I don’t blame him for killing Vexen or Zexion, or for having so much hatred. Who wouldn’t? It’s only natural.

The trainers will reward the subjects when they comply, and shock or otherwise traumatize them if they do not act like “deltas”. And all of this ties into the third reason I think they kept Axel around. As you can see, Delta programming is only effective to the extent that you can traumatize the person. And if they have something they can’t bear to lose, it makes it so much easier to do just that.

“Don’t let us down now, kiddo. Shouldn’t be too much trouble without a heart,” Xigbar told Saïx.

I think there is little doubt that Braig was Isa’s main abuser during the experiments. He all but taunts Saïx about it. Then there’s his weapon called “Cupid’s Arrow”. Cupid shoots people with arrows and they fall in love. His gold-tipped arrows are what link people in love. However, he can fire lead-tipped arrows, which cause people to feel indifference or hatred. This side of Cupid is not very well-known.From Axel’s point of view, that would be a very accurate description. I think all of this was implying that he was the main person who turned Isa into Saïx.

One day, a man came to take me from the prison. I could not see him for the darkness, save that he wore an eyepatch.

And it JUST SO HAPPENS that he was Subject X’s main abuser, too. Hmmm, fancy that. What a coincidence, huh? Well, I think Xaldin was Axel’s main abuser. The story goes out of its way to parallel him to Axel. Notice how Axel never interacts with him in Days, and how he’s conveniently not present in 3D. And it doesn’t just say that he looks down on emotions or the heart. He is good at manipulating the hearts of others. This implies actions. This is Dilan, not Xaldin. So it’s not talking about the Beast. They describe Aeleus as NOT good at manipulating the hearts of others. Xaldin was different. There was definitely something planned with this.

Roxas: You remember the castle’s master, Xion?

Xion: Yeah, the beast we saw.

Roxas: Well, you were right. He does have something he wants to protect. Something he cares about.

Xion: Really?

Roxas: Yeah, but Xaldin says that’s a weakness.

Xion: Why would caring about something be a weakness?

Roxas: I dunno. I didn’t get it either.

Xion: I hope Axel comes home soon.

Caring about something is a weakness according to Xaldin. And 358/2 Days made a pretty big deal out of this idea. I think the story was hinting that Xaldin had a connection to Axel’s weakness. And that’s why they were given parallel stories like that.

Axel: Huh… I think you have a point there. So you don’t need a heart to have something that you can’t bear to lose then. If that’s true, then I guess the closest thing that we Nobodies have would be memories of our past. It’s the memories that create the things that we don’t want to lose.

Axel says his memories of the past are what he can’t bear to lose. Axel is ALL about memories, especially the ones of when he was human.

Xaldin was standing there.

“Is it too hard to at least knock before barging into people’s rooms?” Demyx stated, displeased, and strummed the sitar again.

“What will you do with those human memories you cling to?”

“Hah? What are you saying, old man?” Demyx’s hand stopped, and he turned just his face towards Xaldin. “What about you?”

“Nothing at all. But I’m interested in how you guys let your human memories influence you.”

“Hmm,” Demyx responded, disinterestedly, and plucked the sitar three times.

While Xaldin is the exact opposite. I can’t help but feel like Xaldin’s disgust stems from actually witnessing how Axel in particular was affected by his “weakness”.

“That which we treasure has power over us, Roxas. His heart is captive to it. And that makes it his weakness.”

“Captive…? I don’t get it.”

Everything Xaldin said only got harder and harder to follow.

“Nor should you. You have no heart to love with. Let’s not linger here.”

Xaldin says that anything you can’t bear to lose is your weakness. He calls that weakness “love”, even before he learns that the Beast loves Belle.

Roxas: Love is a power?

And all this happens on Day 150, which is called “Fear”. The whole idea is that having something you can’t bear to lose causes you to feel FEAR. This fear controls you and makes you captive to it.

Roxas: It’s scary.

Axel: You can’t be scared without a heart!

Roxas: If my friends… If you or Xion were to disappear… It’s…scary to think of what it would be like without you guys.

Axel: “Scared” is not an emotion that can exist inside us.

Roxas: Well… I am scared right now, for sure.

Axel: Maybe it’s just that you remember what it’s like to be scared, you know? Somewhere deep inside your memories.

The whole idea of Delta subjects is that they are supposed to be devoid of fear. The only way that happens is to traumatize the subject so much that they become desensitized to fear. Why bring all of these ideas up if you are not going to do anything with them? There was originally a subplot about Axel’s weakness and the fear caused by it.

Roxas: Love? What’s that?

Axel can’t bear to lose his memories of the past, from when he was a human. But that is only relevant for him now, as a Nobody. It wouldn’t have been something that would cause him fear in the past, during the experiments.

Axel: You know, memories of the stuff we couldn’t bear to lose, back when we couldn’t bear to lose it.

The memories he refers to are about “stuff” he couldn’t bear to lose. He had something in his past that he couldn’t bear to lose. Not just memories. Something tangible. Something he treasured that made him afraid of losing it. So what could make him so afraid?

Day 150: Too Precious to Lose

Axel and I talked for a while about the things we can’t bear to lose. Axel thinks that for Nobodies, it’s our pasts, because that’s all we have to remember the pain of losing something.

Why are Axel’s memories too precious to lose? Because that’s all he has to remember the pain of losing something. He must have really treasured that thing if he never wants to forget the pain of losing it. His heart was captive to it. He considered that thing too precious to lose, and it was his weakness.

Saïx: There’s something I’ve meant to ask.

Xemnas: About Axel? The poor fool. How long will he keep chasing the illusion of friendship, when he himself lacks emotion? Trying so hard to retrieve what he has lost, when it may never have existed in the first place. He deserves nothing more than our pity.

Xemnas’ comment was about Axel trying to retrieve what he lost. And Xemnas spoke as if Axel had been chasing something he lost for a very long time. LONG before he lost Roxas. Also, Xemnas said it never existed in the first place. But Xemnas knew Nobodies had hearts. He also considered love to be a weakness, but he didn’t deny that Nobodies were capable of it.

Xemnas: Weakness has the power to awaken that which is dormant. It is clear that through his actions, however foolish they may have been, Axel has touched Sora’s heart. Perhaps HE will soon awaken.

He even said that Axel had the power to wake Ventus because he touched Sora’s heart. He knew Axel was capable of emotion, but he had to keep the script going. He also knew Roxas was not a normal Nobody, and that he had Ventus’ heart. Xemnas knew that Roxas’ friendship with Axel DID exist, and was genuine. That’s why he kept getting sent to Castle Oblivion. He was close to Roxas, and perhaps he would lead them to the Chamber of Waking.

So, I think there was a hidden meaning in his statement when he said that what Axel was seeking was something that never existed in the first place. It was not referring to Roxas. Axel had something else he lost, and was trying to recover. His memories of the past were his weakness. He was so desperate to recover something he lost that Xemnas never considered him a threat. He knew how to control Axel by using his memories of the past against him. And I think that’s why Xemnas never got rid of him.

Axel: As long as we remember each other, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?

Roxas: Ha ha, wow, Axel. That sounded ridiculous.

Axel: What? I thought it was pretty deep.

The sunset is a symbol of wanting to recover something important that was lost. Axel was always looking into it, long before Roxas or Xion left. He was looking at it all by himself on the day “Xion’s Keyblade”. The day Saïx acted like an asshole to Roxas and Xion. And the day Axel said he’d never have to be apart, as long as he had memories. Roxas and Xion had to be inseparable for a while, because Xion couldn’t use her Keyblade. Thanks to Roxas, she got it back, and they were happy. But Axel wasn’t. He didn’t laugh along with them that time.

Roxas: I found out about love on today’s mission–that it’s something powerful.

Axel: That’s true. It is. But I’ll never get to experience it.

Roxas: Nobodies can’t love?

Axel: You need a heart, man.

Roxas: Right…

Axel is the polar opposite of Xaldin. He wants love. Just like the Beast. It’s not the rose he can’t bear to lose. It’s Belle. She makes him feel more human than he did as a physical human. Because she taught him how to love. In my opinion, all of this was implying that Axel had more than just a weakness. He had something he loved. Like the Beast.

Axel: Love is what happens if there’s something really special between two people.

Roxas: You mean, like, if they’re best friends?

Axel: Well, you can care about your friends, I guess, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

Roxas: So then…love is like a step above friends?

Axel: Yes… Well, no. There aren’t “steps.”

Roxas: I don’t get it.

Axel: What does it matter? We’ll never know the difference.

The subtext is extremely strong. Lea was in love with Isa.

Axel: Well, I think you can be inseparable even if you’re apart.

Roxas: Really?

Axel: Sure, if you feel really close to each other. If you’re best friends.

Roxas: What’s it like having a best friend, Axel?

Axel: Couldn’t tell ya. I don’t have one.

And Isa was what he couldn’t bear to lose. Isa was his weakness.

Axel: Does it hurt, Naminé? Watching your two childhood friends fight all because of you? You have my sympathies. From the heart. But don’t waste your time. We Nobodies can never hope to be somebodies.

Axel uses similar words to Naminé that he used with Vexen. He talks about having no one to be. His coldness was due to her causing a rift between childhood friends. Axel took this very personally. There’s only one person that Axel could possibly be referring to. These two things are connected with him. Childhood friends fighting, and not having anyone to be.

Roxas: I don’t get it.

Axel lost Isa, the one thing he couldn’t bear to lose when he was human. And it was unbearably painful for him. It’s why he took so much pleasure while killing Vexen, and why he hated Naminé. He didn’t care if he killed her at all. And I can’t say I blame him for for feeling that way.

Day 119: Hearts and Emotion

Watching that foolish beast flail about only deepens my disdain for humans and their incessant need to be pinned down by feelings. We became Nobodies precisely to avoid the shackles of emotion. It was only later that we realized the scale of that loss: that some things simply cannot be done without a heart. Nonetheless, I see nary a pleasant thing about it.

Not only was Lea in love with Isa, but I’d say Isa was his weakness in a very concrete way. Isa was Lea’s weakness that was used to traumatize him so effectively during the experiments. Because Lea cared so much about his friend, he was probably the most “foolish” subject Dilan experimented on. If there was anyone who would have inspired Lea to get the teardrop tattoos, it would have been Dilan. Isa would have been the last person to do that. Lea was very easy to control due to his strong emotions, and thus made a good assassin. He’d follow any orders to protect Isa. That was true during the experiments, and I think it’s true for when he was a Nobody.

Day 71: The Traitors’ End

Saïx had a hand in what went down at Castle Oblivion—well, more like a whole arm. Which means Axel was in on it as well. It’s a fact that Xemnas ordered Axel to take out the traitors, orders which went through Saïx. No specific names were given, but naturally Xemnas knew who the turncoats were right from the get-go.

When Xehanort possesses someone, he can see their experiences in real time. Axel told Saïx all of his secrets. All the schemes, and the gossip about the other members, etc. Having Axel around provided a ton of valuable information to Xemnas. He knew everything they were plotting and then some. Xemnas had no reason to get rid of him. He was useful. He was well-trained, followed orders, and because Xemnas knew everything he was plotting, he was not a real threat.

They only ordered him to be eliminated after he finally left and went after Roxas. Because then he became unpredictable. Xemnas thought Axel was a fool who was pitiful. I think it was because he had no idea that Saïx was NOT Isa. And he played right into Xehanort’s hand. Like Xemnas said in KH3, he was a pawn, knocked from the board early in the game.

Axel’s memories of Isa were the reason why he was kept around in the Organization. They knew he was totally loyal to Saïx, who was another Xehanort. So he’s technically not a traitor. Saïx was nothing but another Xehanort, and Axel’s friendship with him never even existed in the first place. But Xemnas knew that Axel’s memories of Isa were too precious to lose. They knew Axel’s weakness. Even as a Nobody, he had something that he couldn’t bear to lose—something that he loved. So he could be controlled by the fear of losing it.

#kh meta #kh lea #kh isa #kh axel #kh xemnas #kh saix #kh leaisa #kh isalea #kh akusai #kingdom hearts #kh theories

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osmw1 · 5 years

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Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 72

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“What? Veno? Never mind that! Hurry and escape, Cohgray!”

Celes looked confused when she saw Virage and I exchange glances. Oh, she probably can’t hear Veno.

‘‘tis quite strenuous make myself heard by elves, but I have so much to say to him.’ “Hah, hahahahahahaha! I did not expect to guess correctly. You look so differently than back then; I could not recognize you.”

Veno’s enemy from a time long past stood there staring and arrogantly laughing.

‘I could but say the same myself. I expected not to see thee alive. We have both aged so much that we could not recognize each other.’

Veno speaks calmly, just barely holding back his murderous intent.

“Still… I did not foresee his phantom appear holding the same sword as he did years ago…” ‘Perhaps it would be best for thee to give up. Thine secret weapon would easily be slaughtered by the sacred sword. ‘tis unmistakable the sword glows for it is ready to punish thee for thine sins!’

So, what? Was I supposed to smack them with the sword? Not that it’s unwieldy or anything, but I wasn’t confident with the Karma Blaze since I’ve never used it before. The Bio Corpse Hydra approached us to attack with his miasma breath, but I zipped off to avoid getting hit by it. I felt super quick on my feet, almost as if I had wings.

“D-Did he just teleport?!”

The dragonslayers shouted out in astonishment. However, not only was the hydra able to, even Virage kept up with me.

“Hmpf. You think you can turn this around simply with a hero’s sword? My monster is strong enough to even defeat the monster general of yore. You are sorely mistaken to think you could be victorious with that sword.”

Virage, blinded by his greed and grudge, raised his hand.

“This is all his fault! Despite the world tree originally belonging to us elves, this only happened because he blabbered on about sharing the tree’s graces! If only he didn’t get in my way, none of this would have happened! The man who wielded that sword is all to blame!” ‘Spoken truly like a sore loser who lost all his might. Thou art truly petty, always shifting the blame onto others.’ “You dare ridicule me?!” ‘Ridicule thee? I merely speak of the truth. But for trampling over our dreams… do not think thou shall die a good death!’ “Haha… you talk big for someone trapped in the body of a frail human being. Now, hurry and die already!” With a smile on his face, Virage was filled with a sense of false confidence as he ordered the monster to attack us. However, right as he did so, Karma Blaze began to shine again… so did I as I floated up into the air. What in the hell…?

“Ah…” “Muu.”

Arleaf and Muu clasped their hands together as if they were praying to me. Finally, Karma Blaze left my hand and just as soon as I thought it would fly around…— A great flash of light burst out from my chest, disorienting me for a moment.

—Veno Yveval… slaughter the culprit who committed this unforgivable sin.

A rageful voice—neither the voice of Veno, me, nor the man who dreamt of reclamation—resonated with a command. The next thing I knew… my body had disappeared. I was viewing the world through Veno’s eyes. Veno was not the blackish, purplish dragon I knew, but rather a divine white dragon clad in light.

“Aye… this is… longevity?” ‘What the hell is happening? Am I just spectating?’

I was able to move my body, but Veno’s didn’t move at all. And if I was watching from Veno’s point of view, where did I go? Veno stretched open his wings, clenched and unclenched his claws, and gave his body a quick check-over.

‘Aye… thou art now in the space where I had been trapped.’

Hey, don’t just speak to me with telepathy. I almost thought I went by to my world in this state.

‘Hmm… if thou were to suddenly leave, I would be panicking too. In any case, I shall do what I am supposed to do. It seems like Karma Blaze has a lot of both Mana and frustration pent up inside it.’

Veno speaks to me as he looks on over to Virage.

“What thinkest thou, Virage? Thine magics seems to be working against thee.” “Impossible!” “However, ‘tis quite humorous. To have the sword activate like this… means that thou art as evil as the monster general. But perhaps that is why thou hadst engaged in petty tricks to prevent more heroes? Is that why thou hadst also worn such an odd headdress?”

Sounds about right. Virage most likely changed his name, shirked all responsibility, and lived as a fugitive as well.

“This sacred sword that contains the hopes of the people is granting me—a monster—its power. It spells ill omens for thee. But I shall let the sword and the dragonslayers pass their judgement.”

Celes’ jaw dropped.

“C-Cohgray, you really are a dragon… but this changes nothing. I have already made up my mind.” “If you think about it, that dragon is only defending itself… it hasn’t even killed any innocents. You could say it was even being nice…”

The dragonslayer muttered out as he looked down at his fallen brethren.

“… we’d best hurry and save the townsfolk. Don’t want any more casualties than this…” ‘I had been so restricted with my energy that I was not able to chant many of the spells I had wanted to try. With so much Mana, I could cast any magic I want now.’

Hey. What, did you think I was going to ignore what you just said?

‘Oh, whatever! I only have this one chance! What great timing too! I have been chosen by the sacred sword… I am the world’s only dragon hero!’

Will you stop acting like a child, Veno?! What the hell is a dragon hero anyway?!

“Activate Holy Magic… Ancient Language Interpretation.”

Never have I been bombarded with more visual information… ugh. Just looking at the geometric models and formulas that popped up made my head hurt.

“Your attention please, everyone… I cast the mass curing and purifying defensive barrier… Yggdrasil!”

As Veno activates his spell, our surroundings were smothered by a green light. A giant tree rose from the ground by magic and then its roots spread over the whole town of Lif’el. The roots passed through walls and buildings, guarding the whole town. Except for Virage and his Bio Corpse Hydra of course. The hydra began to claw at the roots that extended from Veno’s magic tree, but the tree didn’t budge one bit.

“Whoa… I feel… so much better. The miasma is getting purified!” “Ugh…”

The fallen dragonslayers began to rise from the ground.

“Even the seriously wounded are recovering… with this much range, maybe even the dead will be…” “Oh, that miraculous magic here… is the exact one from the legends…!”

The dragonslayers clasped their hands together in prayer. Lif’el was just plagued with miasma, but through Veno, the town was being purified right before my eyes. Lif’el could even be called holy ground.

“Hmm… let me sustain that healing barrier… and cast another spell.” ‘Oh, I wanted to try this one out too!’

Aw, geez. I can hear exactly how he feels. But to think that Veno was also able to hear me so clearly…

‘Oh, keep quiet. I cannot hold myself back any longer.’ “And for the target…” “Wha—”

Veno carved a cross into Virage. Not only was it visible to me, but everyone else could too, judging by their shocked expression.

“Now… face thine punishment for ruining the man’s dream and for causing the families of countless dragonslayers to suffer. I have avoided killing people to the best of my ability… however, you shall receive no such mercy.”

Veno started casting again. The geometrical patterns of many magic circles surrounded them and began to form a powerful spell.

“Five minutes. I shall grant ye all five minutes’ time to escape. After that, anyone left in a 20-meter radius of the marked man, Virage, shall be punished along with him!”

How thoughtful of you.

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contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /ch031/ /ch032/ /ch033/ /ch034/ /ch035/ /ch036/ /ch037/ /ch038/ /ch039/ /ch040/ /ch041/ /ch042/ /ch043/ /ch044/ /ch045/ /ch046/ /ch047/ /ch048/ /ch049/ /ch050/ /ch051/ /ch052/ /ch053/ /ch054/ /ch055/ /ch056/ /ch057/ /ch058/ /ch059/ /ch060/ /ch061/ /ch062/ /ch063/ /ch064/ /ch065/ /ch066/ /ch067/ /ch068/ /ch069/ /ch070/ /ch071/ /ch072/ /next/

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yuqibabe · 6 years

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- A Touch of Silver - (BTS)

Angel/Demon AU

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst and possible Gore.

Pairing: Taehyung and Jungkook.

Summary:

“Heaven was surprisingly very similar to life on Earth, only here in Heaven did sin cease to exist. Or so Jungkook thought.”

Warnings: Angst.

Chapter One - Empty Words.

Three years.

It had been three years since Taehyung had vanished.

However, he wasn’t the only one. The week prior to his disappearance was filled with strange occurrences. Angels all over the place were vanishing, not a single trace left behind to give any leads as to where they went. They were gone, just like that, as if they had never existed in the first place.

Jungkook had spent the first year searching for his lover endlessly, helping as much as The Guardians would allow him. Every single time he thought he was even a little bit closer to finding Taehyung, he was always met with another dead end. Every lead, every new piece of information, anything that was remotely linked to Taehyung’s whereabouts, was cut short and erased. It frustrated Jungkook so much, he was confused, and most of all, hurt. Why did Taehyung leave him?

It was a question that haunted the angel, kept him up at night and sent him into a spiral of seemingly inescapable sorrow. He spent those very nights letting his tears wash over his red cheeks, stinging his swollen eyes. Jungkook confined himself to his room, locking the door and letting his miserable thoughts devour his mind until he passed out of exhaustion due to his endless sobs.

But that was two years ago.

“Jungkook are you even listening to me?”

Snapping out of his daze, Jungkook lifted his eyes to land on the face of his best friend. Out of all his features, the most striking one was the thick, plump lips, that were currently pulled slightly downwards at the corners in a frown.

“Uh, I- yea sorry Jimin” Jungkook apologized half-heartedly. Jimin eyed Jungkook up and down, his dark brown eyes swirling with concern. “Everything alright?” He asked softly.

This is where Jungkook lies. He’s been through this exact scenario with Jimin countless times before.

The angel would get lost in the questions and the doubt that clouded his mind, that he’d forget that he was in the middle of a conversation, forget that he was wasn’t alone, physically. This usually happened around Jimin. Since the smaller angel had stuck around Jungkook ever since the night, wanting to make sure he was okay. Which Jungkook never was. Jimin would pull the angel away and into a private space, stare seriously into Jungkook’s miserable, tired eyes and say: “Now tell me what’s really going on?” To which the younger would respond by breaking down, holding onto Jimin weakly as incoherent words tumbled from his lips between choked sobs. Jimin was there for him when he felt like no one was. But that was two years ago. Jungkook was okay now, right? Wrong.

“Yea, I’m fine” Jungkook replied with a few nods. Turning his head away to stare blankly out the cafe window. His fingers gently drumming on the mug tucked between his soft palms.

Jimin let out a long sigh, his eyes flickering between Jungkook and his own mug before he spoke.

“You can stay at mine tonight if you want?” He offered, shuffling in his seat.

“Huh?”

“I said, you can stay at mine if you’d like.”

Jimin wasn’t an idiot. He knew what day it was. It wasn’t an anniversary, you celebrated anniversaries, not something like today.

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded, muttering thanks.

The pair had left the cafe on Jungkook’s request. Jimin followed blindly for almost half an hour, letting Jungkook gently tug him onwards. He soon realised where the younger had taken them after he had passed through the golden bars of the tall gate.

“The Garden of Eden.”

Jungkook crouched down by a clear river that meandered gently through the meadow forests. His wings fluttered slightly as he dipped his fingertips into the cold water, letting the running water glide through his fingers. Jimin walked slowly over to where Jungkook was, taking in his surroundings, for he had only been here a few times.

The Garden of Eden was a sacred, serene, and most of all untouched area of land. It had remained that way after Heaven had reclaimed it as their own from the Humans. The reason was that the Humans had abused what was given to them as a gift, a paradise where they could live in peace and prosper.

Jungkook shook his hand, letting water droplets splatter from his fingertips. He wrapped his arms around his legs and tucked his chin into the gap, as his bottom rested weightlessly on the grass and flowers. His pearl coloured wings were relaxed and hung loosely from between his shoulder blades.

Jimin stood next to him, brown eyes catching glimpses of deer that pranced soundlessly through the trees on the other side of the river.

“We used to come here a lot.” The younger murmured softly. His voice barely audible amongst the sounds of birds chirping happily to each other.

“You and-”

“Yea.”

The pair remained in a comfortable silence.

Jimin squinted slightly as the rays of light filtering through the trees caught his eyes. He crouched down and sat next to Jungkook. His larger wings settling behind him, gingerly touching the feathers of the younger’s.

Out of the blue, Jungkook started laughing softly to himself. Jimin raised a brow in question and stared at Jungkook. “He used to chase around the deer trying to catch one for me. He never actually got one, but it was funny watching him run around for hours and hours. And we used to roll down the hills and once we reached the bottom, we’d just lie on the grass next to each other staring up at the sky. It was those moments where I’d felt so much happiness. This was our place and it was just us then.” Jungkook’s laughter died down and his cheeks reddened with oncoming tears, but none came. “But now it’s just me...”

Jimin didn’t hesitate to gently pull Jungkook into his embrace, gently curling one of his wings around him. The latter stayed silent, but slid his arms around Jimin’s small waist and held him tightly, burying his face into his chest. They didn’t need to exchange words, just being in each other’s company like this was enough to momentarily soothe Jungkook’s internal loneliness.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” The older spoke softly after a few minutes.

Jungkook nodded his head in Jimin’s chest but made no move to get up, he just held onto him. The angel patted his arm gently, urging to get him up. Jimin struggled to remove Jungkook’s arms that enveloped his torso but managed to break free eventually. He pulled the younger up and jokingly grunted, “ugh… you weigh a tonne.”

Jungkook pushed Jimin lightly and shook his head, “not as much as you”

“Whatever, Tiny Wings” The shorter smirked, glad he managed to lighten the mood, even if it was temporarily.

Jungkook spent the rest of their walk back to Jimin’s house defending the size of his wings, flapping them softly.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to slip back into his depressive state after they entered Jimin’s house. The angel had led Jungkook to his room and left some pyjamas on the bed for him to change into, whilst he cooked up something to eat.

Jungkook hesitantly got changed, lethargically tugging off his clothes and pulling on the soft fabric of the pyjamas. He remained in the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the grey bed sheets and drawing soothing patterns onto the skin of his palm with his thumb.

He raised his head as he heard Jimin shuffling into the room, opening the door with his back as his hands were occupied with two bowls of something that smelt delicious. Jungkook’s hunger ignited at the strong savoury scent and his brown eyes grew wide as he eagerly reached for one of the dishes.

“I hope you like it!” Jimin smiled softly as he sat down in front of Jungkook, hungrily eating up the food.

“It’s delicious” The younger mumbled before gulping down another mouthful.

The pair finished their dinner, not long after Jimin had brought it in, and set their bowls on the bedside table. The smaller angel coughed, trying to get Jungkook’s attention. The latter looked up to Jimin’s questioning eyes and slightly tilted head as if he were analysing him like some sort of scientist, with Jungkook being his experiment.

Jungkook equally returned the stare. “What?”

Jimin’s expression softened, “do you want to talk about it?”

Any other day and the younger would have been okay, but hearing those words from Jimin caused the memories to resurface and plague his mind. Jungkook didn’t even remember much from that night, just bits and pieces. It was like trying to remember a dream, things never quite making sense because he couldn’t conjure up everything that had happened. Words, sentences, touches, everything that was exchanged that night was jumbled, some parts missing. The only thing he solidly remembered was the promise, those few words had him stuck in that very same spiral of inescapable sorrow. They buzzed around his head, never once for a second did he forget them.

“You’ll come back... right?”

“Yea, yea, of course. I promise.”

Jungkook’s bottom lip trembled at the memory as if it only happened yesterday. “Why did he leave me?” He choked out the words, no longer fighting the tears he had been holding off for those many hours he had spent with Jimin.

“I-I don’t know Jungkook…” Jimin admitted. Jungkook cried harder, sobs wracking his body and his little wings bobbing up and down weakly with every cry.

“It’s my f-fault isn’t it? I d-did something...wrong. H-he was right to leave me... I-” He was cut off by Jimin pulling him towards his chest and holding him close, hands rubbing circles into his back as he cooed gentle words into his ear. Jungkook clung to the angel, his fingers gingerly fiddling with the feathers of his larger wings. It comforted Jungkook to touch other angel's wings, they were incredibly soft, fragile and sensitive, it made him feel less vulnerable, especially in a state like this.

“I-I’m such a screw-up” His sobs were muffled by Jimin’s shirt. The older shushed him softly, gently pushing him away and cupping Jungkook’s tear stained cheeks, wiping away the drops with the pads of his thumbs. The younger looked at Jimin through his bleary eyes.

“You are not a screw-up Jungkook, okay?” Jimin caressed his cheek. Jungkook nodded weakly, sniffling, but the outflow of tears still continued.

“He’s not coming back, is he? He l-lied to me.”

“Shh...It’s okay” The smaller brushed the strands of Jungkook’s fringe that hung in front of his eyes away with tender fingers. Jungkook shuffled closer to Jimin until he was straddling his lap, cuddling into his warm chest once again. Jimin accepted him and wrapped his arms around Jungkook, gently scratching the back of his head in an attempt to calm him, fingers running through his soft hair soothingly.

Jimin rocked their bodies side to side as Jungkook continued to whimper into his chest, saying muffled words about how he was ‘worthless’, to which Jimin would reassure him and tell him otherwise.

“You’re more than that Jungkook, you’re amazing, you’re perfect. He was a fool to leave you” Jungkook lifted his head to look at Jimin with a desolate expression. Eyebrows angled upwards and his red nose twitching with every sniffle.

“R-really?”

“Yes, really,” Jimin assured softly with a nod, stroking his hair comfortingly. “I think you’re the most considerate, generous and loving angel out there. You don’t deserve to feel like this at all, but you are going to get through this and you’ll always have me. You know that Jungkook because I’ve told you hundreds of times before, and I’ll keep reminding you if I have to.”

Jungkook smiled weakly at Jimin, his eyes flitting down to the angel’s plump lips. It was only for a split second, almost unnoticeable, but he knew Jimin saw it. Especially since the older now had his eyes lowered to Jungkook’s own lips, slowly leaning towards them. He lifted his gaze, as his mouth grazed gingerly over Jungkook’s, asking for permission with his dark brown eyes, staring into the younger’s still teary eyes.

“J-Jimin…” Jungkook breathed out, feeling so light-headed from his crying and now the lack of space between their lips as they met shyly.

The angel’s eyes closed as Jimin’s mouth pressed gingerly against his. The warmth that spread through his body as they slowly moved against each other in little touches. His heart racing as they parted from the kiss that seemed to last for only milliseconds.

“Is this okay?” Jimin whispered softly, cupping his face with his small hand. Jungkook nodded, timidly capturing Jimin’s lips once more.

The older pushed Jungkook backwards so he was lying on top of him, not letting their warm bodies separate as well as their mouths. They were best friends, yet they were kissing, sharing so much with each other as if they were lovers.

This wasn’t the first time they had done this. The first time it had happened, it was an impulse on Jimin’s side, leaning forward and stealing a gentle kiss from Jungkook’s trembling lips as he cried. Surprisingly, it calmed the younger down, soothed his frantic thoughts until it was only them. He liked it, he really did, but it was never him. The dull ache in his chest would pound on no matter what Jimin did.

Jungkook continued to cry, tears pooling in his eyes and streaming down his rosy, stinging cheeks. Pulling the older closer with his arms wrapped around his neck, hands now running through his wings.

“Shh… Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay” Jimin caressed his cheek, wiping away the salty tears and whispering those sweet nothings in between their static lips touching slowly.

Jimin pulled away from Jungkook, looking sympathetically into his brown eyes that were contaminated with grief. “You still love him don’t you?” He murmured softly.

The younger nodded slowly, a new wave of sorrow hit him, piercing right into his chest. His pain and sorrow grew and the sickly feeling of not knowing churned his stomach. He clutched onto Jimin and pulled him down to lie next to him, holding onto the angel’s torso weakly as his wings drooped and hung lowly.

“I still feel like he’s here… L-like he’s going to come back, but h-he never does” Jungkook whimpered. The older ran his fingers through Jungkook’s hair in repetitive strokes, pressing warm kisses onto his scalp and listening to the younger ramble incoherent cries to him.

“I miss Taehyung”

“...I know Jungkook, I know”

The angel curled his wing underneath Jungkook’s body, cradling him comfortingly with his soft feathers. They stayed like that for hours until Jungkook’s cries had slowed to a stop and his breathing had regulated in slow exhales of slumber.

Jimin pressed a lingering kiss to Jungkook’s pouting lips and pulled his body closer as he closed his eyes, basking in the comfort of Jungkook’s limbs that had woven around his narrow body. His small wing that had rested over his chest along with his arm that wrapped around him. He soon fell asleep, letting the darkness wash over his tired mind.

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