#there's no way he has of knowing his fragment was repaired by a listener – he has no idea what fragments even are + is unconscious in the-

[autumnwhistles]

(note: this is purely from a character perspective, not a comment on CCs.)

grian and scar have now both been in opposite positions to the original 'cactus ring', and it's so interesting to compare their attitudes to sacrifice on both ends. whether or not scar threw the fight in the cactus ring, he did offer for grian to kill him before it began. grian declined this, but was clearly fighting with the intention to win during the fight itself – he's giving scar a chance, but not sacrificing.

in secret life, scar's on the other end of things. he's fighting another winner – who herself has been sacrificed for previously – and, like grian, is going into what he assumes to be a fair fight... but which is in his favour due to the others' willingness to sacrifice themselves for him. this is a common pattern for winners: in whichever order, they take the win once, and are once willing to sacrifice themselves to let another take it.

cut to wild life.

this time, it's grian in the final two once more, yet again against an – albeit more distant – ally. he's got a win under his belt already, so you might expect him to do what pearl did, what scott did, right? sacrifice their chance at glory to let another taste it for the first time.

and yet:

"I'm going to have to kill Joel"

"Can I win this? I worked so hard on this series, I'd love to win it!"

because here's an important thing about life series!grian: though he's willing to even the playing field, he's not willing to sacrifice – not when it matters. pledge your loyalty to right a wrong, yes; give lives to gain allies hours, yes; refuse others' sacrifices to fight on fair terms, yes. but in the end, no matter how much he wants to stick with friends, no matter how bad he feels about it, no matter how may "i'm so sorry"s he gives – he will put his own life first, in the end.

there's a reason he's the reason for so many of his allies' deaths, after all. and in its contrast, the wild life finale showcases this beautifully.

(and for the record, i don't see anything wrong with this from an out-of-univere perspective – it's been 5 seasons and 3.5 years since Grian's last win, and even if it hadn't been, it's the CCs place to judge fairness, not ours.)

[jellywonie]

Threads of Gold ✧.* K.YS

pairing: pirate!Yeosang x tailor!reader

wc: 1.3k

content: fluff, pirate/maritime au, unspoken attraction, first kiss, mutual pining

taglist: @adriftingsnowflake @norihoyeon

The oil lamp flickers as another wave crashes against the hull. You squint at the torn seam running along the sleeve of what was once a fine officer's jacket, now reduced to another item in your endless pile of repairs. The fabric tells a story: blade cuts here, rope burn there, salt stains everywhere. You've become fluent in reading the violence etched into cloth.

Most of the crew treats you like furniture. Useful, occasionally necessary, but hardly worth acknowledging. They dump their damaged gear on your workbench and grunt something about needing it "soon as possible" before stomping back to their duties. After three years aboard this ship, you've accepted your role as the invisible keeper of their second skins.

But Yeosang has never treated you that way.

He appears in your doorway now, soundless as always, holding a pair of leather bracers. The binding along the edges has come undone, leaving dangerous gaps that could cost him his wrists in a fight. He sets them down with the same careful attention he gives everything, his fingertips resting on the worn leather for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Storm damage?" you ask, though you already know the answer. Last night's tempest had everyone scrambling to secure loose rigging.

He nods once, then reaches into his coat. This time it's a piece of polished amber with something dark suspended inside. A tiny leaf, perhaps, or an insect caught in ancient resin. He places it beside the bracers like an offering.

You've collected dozens of these gifts over the months. Not treasure in any conventional sense, but things that caught his eye during raids or shore leave. A button carved from mother-of-pearl. A fragment of blue pottery. A brass key that opens nothing you own but somehow feels important anyway.

"Thank you," you say, as you always do. He never responds with words, but his shoulders relax slightly, and you know he's pleased.

After he leaves, you examine the bracers more closely. The leather is high quality, probably taken from some merchant vessel, but it's been worked hard. Yeosang is careful with his equipment, methodical in a way that speaks of years surviving by small margins. For him to let these deteriorate to this point means he's been pushing himself harder than usual.

You've been watching him, though you'd never admit it. The way he moves through the ship like he's mapping every shadow, every possible escape route. How he positions himself during meal times to see all entrances. The careful distance he maintains from everyone except when duty demands otherwise.

And the way he gravitates toward your quarters when the nightmares get bad. He never comes inside on those nights, just stands in the corridor outside your door. You pretend to sleep and listen to his quiet breathing until it steadies and he moves away. You never mention these visits, and neither does he.

Tonight, as you work on reinforcing the bracer binding with fresh leather strips, you make a decision that feels both inevitable and terrifying.

His coat hangs on the peg where he left it two days ago, a tear in the shoulder seam that you've been putting off. Not because it's difficult, but because once you return it, you'll lose your excuse to keep something of his close by. The wool still smells like him: weapon oil and sea air and something else, something warm that makes your chest tight when you breathe it in.

You spread the coat across your workbench and examine the damaged area. A clean cut, probably from a blade that came too close during the last skirmish. Easy enough to mend, but as you thread your needle, you catch sight of the silk lining.

The golden thread sits in its small wooden box, salvaged from the remnants of a nobleman's waistcoat months ago. You'd kept it for something special, though you'd never defined what that might be. Now you know.

Your hands shake as you begin stitching along the inner seam, hidden where only he would find it. The words come slowly, each letter a small act of courage:

"I know you stand outside my door when sleep won't come. I know you leave me pieces of the world because you can't leave me pieces of yourself. I know you see me when others don't. I see you too."

You pause, needle suspended in mid-air. The confession feels too small, too careful. You add more:

"If you want to come inside next time, just knock. If you want to stop leaving gifts and start staying instead, I'll understand that language too."

The final knot takes forever to tie. Your fingers keep slipping, and you have to start over twice before it holds. When it's done, you sit back and stare at the coat as if it might sprout wings and fly away, carrying your secrets with it.

Morning comes with the sound of boots on deck and shouted orders. You haven't slept, too nervous about what daylight might bring. The coat hangs finished on its peg, innocent-looking except for the hammering of your heart every time you glance at it.

Yeosang appears just after the breakfast bell, moving through your doorway with his usual quiet grace. He's wearing the repaired bracers, you notice, and they look perfect against his forearms. Professional satisfaction wars with personal anxiety as he approaches the workbench.

You hand him the coat without meeting his eyes. "Shoulder seam's reinforced. Should hold better now."

He takes it, and you feel rather than see him examining your work. The silence stretches long enough that you risk looking up, and find him watching you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Good work," he says finally. His voice is rough from disuse, but there's something else there too. Something that makes your pulse skip.

He puts the coat on with deliberate slowness, settling it across his shoulders and smoothing the front panels. His hand comes to rest over his heart, fingers spread across the exact spot where your words lie hidden. His eyes never leave your face.

"Battle stations!"

The call echoes down from the deck, followed by the thunder of running feet. Enemy ship spotted, probably. You've heard this song before.

Yeosang moves toward the door, then stops. He turns back, and in three quick strides he's standing closer than he's ever been, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

"Tonight," he says simply. "After."

It's not a question, but you nod anyway, your throat too tight for words.

He starts to turn away again, then pauses. Before you can react, his hand cups the back of your neck and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that tastes like promises and salt air. It's brief but thorough, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

"Something to mend me with, if I come back broken," he murmurs against your mouth.

Then he's gone, and you're left alone with the echo of cannons firing and the warmth of his lips still burning on yours.

You sit down heavily on your work stool and press your fingers to your mouth, grinning despite the battle raging overhead. Tonight, you think. Tonight he'll knock instead of standing in the corridor. Tonight you'll find out what it means to mend something that isn't torn, to stitch together two whole pieces into something stronger.

The ship shudders under enemy fire, but you're not afraid. You have work to do, preparations to make. After all, when Yeosang comes back, you'll want to be ready to help him out of that coat properly this time.

The golden thread gleams in the lamplight, and you smile as you begin sorting through your supplies. Some things, you've learned, are worth the careful patience required to get them right.

[crispy-art-on-fire]

YOU KNOW I HAVE THE BRAINROT WHEN I AM BRINGING MULTIPLE AUS TO LIFE- ANYWAY PYGMALION AND GALATEA AU. Blitzwing sculpts his ideal man and falls in love with the statue and Optimus comes to life with an allspark fragment as his heart.

Detailed rambling under cut.

So basically to cope with the boredom and chaos of Megatron being dead and Lugnut being a pain Blitzwing decides to indulge in making a statue, his masterpiece. Working on it instead of blowing a fuse and trying to kill Lugnut. Eventually he begins to talk to it, complaining about his day and arguing with himself. They know it's purely just sounding their ideas out and an outlet for the things they cannot say to anyone else.

But then it stops being just that and Blitzwing begins to seeing Optimus as a person, someone listening to him. He anthropomorphizes Optimus and begins to seek comfort from him, he falls in love with something that cannot love him back. Beginning to fantasize about what if Optimus was real.

Then plot happens and the allspark is fractured. One of the shards burrowing deep into Optimus and so bringing life to him. Optimus remembers everything Blitzwing told him and so decides to try to help him: To attack the Autobots.

(In this au the leader of the repair team is Sentinel Prime after he got demoted for breaking the rules and causing Elita-1 to be lost.)

This misadventure ends pretty well after they get over the scare of being attacked by an Optimus who doesn't know how to emote and basically has to consciously remember "oh I can talk now." In that Optimus also doesn't really have any ideas of his own and can be easily convinced to not fight them once given 1 reason not to. The deepest core of his being is that he wants to do good in its purest form.

So meanwhile Optimus is off learning that being alive is beautiful and fun Blitzwing is freaking out. Their coping statue is gone and while they first suspect Lugnut of finally destroying it the idea of Optimus having walked off himself pops into their mind and oh they simply must investigate. Turns out yes! Their imaginary boyfriend is alive now and that might be the most exciting scariest thing ever.

Blitzwing brings Optimus back to the Decepticon base and he is officially on the team but not really. This is where the two actually get to know each other because Blitzwing knows nothing about Optimus except that they love him more than anything and Optimus knows everything about Blitzwing but doesn't know his own feelings. It's awkward, it's cute, Blitzwing is the most overprotective guy ever which might be the only reason why it takes so long for the Decepticons to realize that Optimus is very bad at being bad.

The breaking point being Optimus not being able to handle it anymore tries to break Professor Sumdac out and getting caught. Blitzwing as his creator gets the responsibility to execute him but once bringing Optimus to an isolated area cannot bring himself to do it. Faking taking the shot and telling Optimus to leave and never come back. Optimus does, thanking Blitzwing before he goes.

Optimus officially joins the Autobots. And he might trying to do right but having been around only Decepticons for most his existence makes it so easy to do things that make everyone look at him like he's a monster. It takes a while for either to get used to each other.

Blitzwing is doing Great he is doing So Fine in that he doesn't have a breakdown immediately. He created something to pour his feelings into and then it came alive and rejected him. Issues! But they still love Optimus and it feels like a curse they way they need to know him and what has become of him.

In moments of weakness they meet, for Optimus to talk and Blitzwing to listen. With no one else to rely on or share his newfound thoughts Optimus shares it with Blitzwing knowing that they want all of him and he cannot want them back.

ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING. THEY NEED TO SUFFER.

[cemeteryspider]

It's Called: Freefall

Hazbin Lucifer x Archangel! Reader

Summary: You freefall...

Trigger Warning: Isolation, rejection, and suicidal themes (listen to the song this is based off of)

Word Count: 1120

When you called your old friend Lucifer, you didn't expect to meet him in a quiet human coffee house with a few humans going in and out. Your heart pounded in your chest as you as across from him. Innocently he pushed a latte towards you with a weak smile.

You reciprocate the gesture with an eager smile, the warmth of the coffee cup seeping through your fingers. As the bitter liquid danced on your taste buds, he seized the moment to pose the first question.

"Why did you ask me here?" After many years, hearing his voice was music to your ears.

"Not sure, maybe I want you to pull me down to Hell with you"

His eyes narrowed, a subtle frown forming on his lips as your words hung in the air. Desperate to diffuse the tension, you forced a laugh, but the weight of his gaze lingered.

"Maybe you would make it easy and offer me cigarettes, dominos, or rum" You teased.

"Not only sundowns, Sundays, Christmas for me" Though a joke no laughter came from him.

"I just needed an old friend. I could never hope to keep the new seraphim as friends. I tried to give them what I thought that they wanted, never could they be such a good friend as you've been"

"Come on, Y/n, don't get me venting on friends that resent you. All I've ever been is a noose to hang onto, reckless I fell into Hell where I hang with nothing and no one"

Your hand found him from across the table, "I could follow you..."

"Even the devil needs time alone sometimes" In a blink he was gone with a puff of smoke.

~~~

When you returned to Heaven you allowed yourself to sink the floor of your bedroom. Allowing tears to flow from your eyes down your cheeks.

Your "friends" never listened to your ideas, and shot them down at every chance they had. Adam had shunned you from the court after his private meeting with Sera about your sympathies with the devil.

Angel's avoided you and human souls steered clear of your wake.

The weight of rejection and isolation pressed on your shoulders, tempting you to abandon the celestial realm that had turned its back on you. The thought of leaving it all behind gained momentum within your conflicted heart.

You could let it all go.

You could let it all go.

It's called freefall.

You started writing to Lucifer about your plans.

It's called freefall

~~~

Days turned into a slow, agonizing wait before a black envelope, delivered with an impatient huff from Sera, found its way into your hands.

Still, the red seal made you giddy with excitement. However, after opening the letter you soon understood that you shouldn't have opened it.

Dearest, Y/n

Stop. Do not talk like that. You shouldn't fall. I can't even be bothered with this, you better handle your shit. Keep about your wits, you know yourself and who I am. The devil isn't a friend to anyone, Y/n.

~Lucifer

Hours turned into agonizing days as you sat amidst the remnants of your torn bedroom, the echo of your screams still reverberating in your ears. Each piece of the room held a memory, a fragment of the friendship that now seemed shattered beyond repair. You scoured your conversations with Lucifer, trying to find the roots of this passive-aggressive letter.

Lucifer was your best friend, and has been for centuries, and never in your life had you imagined him practically disowning you after letting him into your innermost thoughts.

You threw the letter into the burning fireplace in your room stomped your way to Sera, and demanded to be sent to Hell.

Without so much as a trial, which even Lucifer and the other Deadly Sins were allowed, she cursed you and sent you down.

It's called freefall.

It's called freefall.

~~~

As you plummeted, the familiar celestial lights ethereally faded from your view, replaced by a menacing red glow. The once weightless fall morphed into a descent fraught with a hellish heat that seemed to seep into your very bones. The stench of sulfur filled your nose, assaulting your senses with the undeniable reality of your new existence.

You allowed your eyes to close as you imagined your new life. You imagined Lucifer and all the grand ideas you would think up together. The change that you could make in Hell, and maybe eventually Heaven would see. You could see real friendship in your future.

~~~

Despite your continuous knocking at the Devil's door he never bothered to answer. You allowed yourself to curl up near the door, and rest your weary bones.

After a long time you heard the click of boots, and the tumble of a kicked stone growing closer.

A warm hand touched your shoulder, "Hey, what are you doing out this late, it's like 2 am, and nothing's open in Hell, it's a rule I made, anyway" You felt his weight shift as he sat on the stair next to you.

You peered your head above your arms to him. "So, you're still too busy saving everybody else, to save yourself. That's a story to tell"

A surprised look crossed his face when he saw yours. His eyes scanned your body for any injuries, then wrapped his arms around you.

"I told you not to do this, you could've gotten past those feelings. You didn't have to fall", Tears fell his face. He knew the shame and the isolation that came with falling. He knew the sad faces and disappointed looks better than anyone. It was something he never wanted you to experience, and never wanted you to know.

"Hey, let it all out, this is where I'm meant to be, Luci" You pulled his form into yours, and you could feel his shoulders relax in your grip.

His face found solace in the curve of your neck, tears staining your skin as he sought refuge in your embrace. The weight of his remorse hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of compassion and confusion. The tears spoke of a shared pain, a vulnerability you hadn't expected from the mighty Lucifer. As his silent sobs echoed in the infernal air, you grappled with the complexity of emotions that his apology unearthed.

"I'm sorry for what I wrote, I thought if I pushed you away, it wouldn't end up like this", Maybe if he just pushed you away, made you feel as though you could live with the pretentious angels that surrounded you. You wouldn't want to fall.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here" You promised him. 

[meshla-cyarika]

Worth the pain

Pairing: Nathan Prescott x gn!reader

Word count: 1,056

Tags/warnings: mentions problematic family members (such as an alcoholic father), reader doubts themselves, smoking, friends to lovers.

Summary: your life and Nathan's are both fucked up in different ways, but somehow your mangled and spiralling lives have intertwined. You're closer than you've ever imagined anyone could be, but you can't face the feelings that linger around you both, because you can't face loving someone again just for them to leave you to pick up the pieces afterwards.

A/N: this was inspired by the song "bite the hand".

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

Fuck Black-shitting-well academy. The only things it's brought you is more things to tell your imaginary therapist. Like fuck you were going to see a real one. You did that along time ago and the only thing it achieved was people pitying you. You don't need strangers fucking pity for your fucked up life, you already know it's messed up beyond repair, you don't need a fucking therapist to tell you that. Everyone you've spoke about your past to has either given you a disgusted look, or fake pity.

You just want to scream out everything in your mind to someone who won't give you any expression, almost like a blank wall that you can just yell and scream and cry at. That's what Nathan Prescott has become for you and sometimes, you've been that for him as well. You can just talk and talk and talk at him and he'll just sit there, seemingly not paying attention but mentally noting every word you've said. He'll only speak when you request him to, but most of the time he doesn't say anything at all. And you return the favour by letting him vent to you and listen to all his words.

Now, you're both silently laying on Nathan's bed in his dorm, your legs up agaisnt the cushions as you lay the wrong way on the bed. You just stare at the white ceiling, passing a cigarette between each other. You forgot to buy a pack and it's Nathan's last one, so you compromised. You've remained in silence, since you entered his room ages ago, waiting for either one of you to say something.

Nathan hands you the cigarette, after he took a long drag, before breaking the some what comforting silence, "Do you ever think about..." His pause causes you to turn your head to look at him, but he's still staring up at the ceiling. "Getting the fuck outta here? Just fucking off and forgetting about all this shit?"

"Every second of every day." You reply to him, as you pass him the cigarette back.

"But there's always that nagging in the back of your head to just put up with everyone's shit." Nathan speaks for them both and you turn your head to face the ceiling again. Uncontrollable dread sits in your soul, as you try to convince yourself that your past isn't repeating itself yet again. "And it always seems to out weigh the idea of finally being free." He adds to his previous sentence. "I'm gonna get the fuck outta here one day, you know?"

Your anxious mind can't help but pick up on the fact that he said "I'm" and not "we". Has he already decided that you are only a fragment of his life? You should've known better. You told yourself when you went to Blackwell not to get attached to anyone. They'd only leave like every fucker else, you had told yourself. First, it was your mother leaving you for some drugdealing asshole, then it was your childhood friend picking some over girl for you, then your older siblings moved out far away (they still don't try to contact you), which only added to your father's alcoholism. There's always someone else that's the first choice. You gave up trying to get everybody to like you a long time ago.

During your mind's spiralling anxious thoughts, you don't even notice the tear that runs down the side of your face, until a soft hand wipes it away. The physical contact brings you back to reality and you turn your head to face Nathan, who's already looking at you. The cigarette sits in an ashtray that's ontop of his bed. Your eyes stare into his ocean blue ones and you only just realise how close you are, your faces are only a breath away from one another.

"Tell me what's going on up there." He places his hand on the side of your face and slightly taps your forehead to emphasise his words, before tucking the hair that had fallen infront of your face behind your era.

You silently study his face, his blonde soft hair, his angel eyes and your eyes finally land on his red lips. You desperately want to take the leap and kiss him until your lungs begin to burn from the lack of air. You want to hide yourself in his arms, where you're safley locked away from the world. You want him to hold you so delicately, as if you'd break like glass.

You tear your eyes away from his plush lips and sigh as you can't bring yourself to look at him anymore. "I can't keep doing this." You pathetically mutter under your breath, hating the way more salty tears push their way into your eyes.

"Doing what?" Nathan's voice has dropped to a whisper as you looks at you.

"This! I can't keep loving people who leave! I can't let more kindling be added to this burning feeling inside me!" Your voice raises, but you're not angry. You're just so tired and fucking emotionally drained. You try to ignore the never ending stream of tears that flow from your eyes. "It hurts too much and I can't do it anymore!" You subconsciously grasp his shirt, as if that's enough to stop him from disappearing.

Nathan says your name, as quite as a whisper and you just stare into his eyes. The hand on your cheek moves to lightly grasp the back of your scalp and Nathan moves forward to place his forehead agaisnt your own, in an attempt to ground you to the present. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I don't fucking care if it means we travel the entire fucking world, I'm not letting you go." He vows, with such a sincere look in his eyes, a look you've never seen anyone give you before.

Silence falls once again and you're still so close to the point where you can feel each other's breath on your faces. Neither of you can help but glance down at each other's lips. Slowly but surely, your bodies move impossibly closer and your lips dance over one another.

His touch burns and stabs into your soul, but you can't convince yourself to let him go. Nathan's here and he's staying. He's worth the pain.

[thescarletnargacuga]

UNSEEN FRAGMENTS

PART 3 OF THE UNSEEN SERIES: A HARLEQUIN AU FANFICTION

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

Shadowblade is my OC and is NOT CANON

WARNING: intense violence, mechanical gore, swearing, long read

~~~

"Fascinating, aren't they?" Thousands of small neon green-yellow butterflies swarmed the manor forest. Kingr was covered in the fluttering friends, looking like someone took a highlighter and dotted all over him. "They're migrating south, and since this is the only bastion of green for quite a ways, they all flock here for a respite. We're so fortunate the manor grounds is on their marching order." He held his butterfly covered hand close to his face.

Shadowblade laid on the grassy ground next to him, taking in the nature around them. They watched the tiny specs of color flying around in the cooling breeze. The seasons were changing, it's the first they ever noticed. Has the world done this before? They could feel the crisp air against their armor, sending a chill through their body, making the metal creak.

Shadowblade listened to Kingr as still and as quiet as possible, not wanting to scare the precious insects. Many landed on them, their butterfly light touches adding to the new experience. Shadowblade went crosseyed trying to see the ones that landed on their snoot. To see such small delicate lives exist beyond the war torn past was... comforting.

Kingr took his attention away from his hand to see Shadowblade being so attentive and a smile reached his eyes. He gently shook the butterflies from his hand and gave Shadowblade a pat on the head. "You may be a war machine, but that doesn't define who you are. Trust me, I would know."

Shadowblade rumbled against his touch, lowly vibrating the ground. It was nice to experience so many kind hands. Not just from Kingr, but Caine and even Pomni. They loved the positive attention, it made them feel...it made them feel.

"Sorry, to interrupt..." Caine joined them on the edge of the forest. "But could I borrow Shadowblade? I have something new to show them." Excitement laced his voice. His white shirt was covered in grease and smoke stains.

Kingr got one last pat in before Shadowblade stood, scattering the butterflies. Shadowblade followed Caine, who had a bit of a skip in his step, to the barn. "You're going to love this! I've been working on a few redesigns for you! You're already spectacular but there's always room for improvement! Your wings for example..." He uprighted an apparatus on the barn floor. "How would you like to be capable of actual flight!? It would mean removing all the blades except your outermost, and making some adjustments to your armor weight, but it's possible!"

Shadowblade examines the wing apparatus curiously. It was huge, they flexed their current wing-like blades in comparison.

"I know, it'll take some getting used to, but it'll be worth it! And don't worry about the amount of noise on landing, I have some improvement ideas for your paw pads too. A genius like me doesn't just think of one thing at once." He chuckled and wiped his stained glove against his shirt. "Anywho, this will take awhile, so get comfortable."

Shadowblade settled and quietly powered down. As much as they felt like they needed to see Caine work, if this was going to be as invasive as it seemed, they didn't want to be awake. They'd experience plenty of positive touch today and Caine was trustworthy, so they finally decided to take a nap instead of endure the pain.

Caine did a double take when he heard Shadowblade's systems powering down. They'd always stayed awake, no matter what sort of repairs had ever been done. He grinned and spoke softly. "You're in good hands. Rest well."

He got work right away, disassembling and rebuilding Shadowblade's entire wing structure. As he was installing the right wing, he had to take off part of the side of Shadowblade's chest. The molten gold core shined before him like a beacon, beckoning to be studied. Caine leaned over to see Shadowblade still completely off, fast asleep.

"One little peak wouldn't hurt." He carefully reached inside and felt the core for opening points. There were cracks all over the core's protective case, years of wear and tear evident of a long hard existence. His fingers found a latch and the core opened. Shattered remains of something fell out and he cursed to himself as he caught them. He checked Shadowblade again, still asleep.

Inside the core was a glowing, amber gold crystal. Fluid pumped into a chamber the crystal covered and flowed out to the body. He leaned in as close as he could, squinting to see black spidering cracks spread across the crystal. Being this close, he could feel a soft radiant hum emanating from the epicenter of the core.

"Beautiful. A crystalline core with energized fluid distribution. I've always theorized this was possible, but never seen it done practically. How was your crystal charged? How has it stayed charged?" He, very carefully, took a scraper from his pocket and shaved off a micro sample of the crystal. Shadowblade didn't even twitch, much to his relief. He closed the core's case and backed out of Shadowblade's chest to examine the bits that fell out.

Three crumbled purple stone pieces with strange markings sat in his palm. He immediately recognized them as parts of what was once a charm. He turned them over to examine all the markings, he recognized only a few. His own charm knowledge was not as extensive as Ragatha's, and would have to get her to look this over more thoroughly. He paused when he saw markings that weren't runic in nature, they were english letters. SB

"Huh...never seen someone sign their work this way. Maybe..." He trailed off and pocketed the charm shards. He could think on it later. He resumed his work on the upgrades.

~

"Hey, have you seen Caine?" Pomni inquired to Gangle as they passed in the hall.

"No, Miss Pomni. I have not seen him all day. I assume he is in his workshop?" Gangle answered in a soft voice, lowering her gaze submissively despite being much taller than the Harlequin.

"I just came from there. Fucker's probably out. Why didn't he think to take me with him? I'm bored as hell!" Pomni crossed her arms in a disappointed huff.

"I'm sure he had his reasons. Maybe it would've been dangerous and he didn't want you to get hurt."

"Bitch, please. I eat danger for breakfast. Then I top my salmon burger with it for lunch. THEN I-"

BOOM!!

The whole mansion shook. Pomni unsheathed her sword and rushed to a window. She saw no immediate threat, her eyes landing on Shadowblade. The beast leapt into the air, flapped huge wings and landed back down with another heavy boom. Caine was outside waving his arms and dancing around.

Pomni threw open the window, jumped out and put her sword away. "What the fuck is going on out here!?"

"Pomni!! You're just in time! Shadowblade has wings now! Look!! They can really fly!!" He held his hands out towards Shadowblade with pride.

Shadowblade tried to take off again, awkwardly flapped like a baby bird and fell back to earth. They vented air hard, their systems not used to the strain on their front limbs. They flexed their new wings at Pomni, Caine's excitement was infectious.

Pomni blinked, trying to process what was happening. "...uh-"

"BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING! It will take some time for Shadowblade to get the hang of it, as flying was never part of their original design, and I have no idea how to program the directive. Honestly, I would be hesitant to even try. So this will be a learning experience for the both of you. Machine learning at it's finest. Oh! And look!!" Caine pulled at one of Shadowblade's front paws, signaling them to lift. "I improved their pads too!" He squished his face against the paw the size of his torso. "They're thicker! Should help soften the landing a bit and be a bonus for stealth."

"....still shook the whole house."

"Well, yeah. We're right next to it, and Shadowblade easily weighs several tons. They're never going to be perfectly silent, but it's an improvement! So, what do you think?" He let go of Shadowblade's paw and clasped his filthy hands together.

"Uh, neat, I guess. Not super thrilled about the idea of being high off the ground."

"But you've been doing so well, I was starting to think your acrophobia-"

"IT WAS NEVER A PHOBIA!" Pomni exploded unexpectedly. She looked away and spoke quieter. "But yeah, I've been handling heights better lately."

"Progress. That's what's important." Caine sighed. "I should get cleaned up. You and Shadowblade can experiment with the wings, if you want." Before he could walk away, he felt Shadowblade's maw against his back. He pet Shadowblade as they pressed against him and rumbled their low mechanical purr. He smiled a little. "Nice to know someone around here appreciates what I do." He didn't look at Pomni as he left.

Pomni watched Caine leave without a word. Her insides twisted a bit with guilt. A chuff from Shadowblade got her attention. The beast lowered themself to the ground, offering the saddle to her. The crystal charm on her right hand glowed softly. "Yeah, I could use some fresh air." She mounted up and they took off out of the city.

~

The shower was more of a phycologcal need than a physical one, sometimes it felt good to literally wash the day off. Caine stood under the hot stream, trying to relax his mind. "Why can't anything I do just be enough?" He let his mind wander. A dangerous thing, but it needed the freedom to process his thoughts before he stamped the emotions back in place. He stayed until the hot water ran out, shots of icy water bringing him back to reality.

He wrapped himself in a towel and went through the pockets of his dirty pants before he forgot what was in there. He didn't want his tools going through the laundry again by mistake. He found the pieces of the charm he discovered inside Shadowblade as well as the core sample. "Hm...I've had suspicions since day one that Shadowblade isn't a true marionette. Maybe this is my answer." He closed his fist around the pieces and got dressed to see Ragatha.

~

Shadowblade stood on a high rocky outcropping, judging the distance to the ground and feeling the direction of the wind. They could feel Pomni's nerves through the connection. This was dangerous. Maybe, just a tiny bit, TOO dangerous. Maybe they should climb back down. Maybe they should hop along the ground some more. Maybe....they should just go for it.

Shadowblade looked over their shoulder to Pomni. "Don't look at me, I'll never be ready. Jump when you want." Her grip on the saddle left permanent indents in the leather.

Shadowblade adjusted their stance and unfolded their wings. The wind caught enough that they could stand on their hind legs. For what it was worth, the view was rather nice. They flapped and lifted from the rock. The strong wind carried them up and away. They steadied themselves in the draft, they could feel Pomni's heart racing.

"Okay, okay, okay, this is okay. We're in the air. Oh my fucking god, we're in the air." Pomni refused to look down.

Shadowblade tried to send reassuring vibes back, but they were too nervous themselves. They've never been this high up.

Then, the draft died. Shadowblade lost altitude rapidly. They tried flapping, it wasn't helping much, just made the turbulent descent all the more bumpy.

BAM!!

Shadowblade bellyflopped to the ground. They moaned as Pomni slid off and puked. She braced herself on her knees and horked up everything her system. "Ugh...this isn't going to be a fun learning curve."

Shadowblade groaned back.

~

"So, what do you think?" Caine sipped a glass of brandy as he poured over books and old maps in the library.

Ragatha cross references symbols on the charm pieces with ones in her book. "Well, I can tell you for certain that it is some sort of suppression charm. The stone itself is fluorite based, which isn't local to our area. As for the writing, I don't know. I've never seen a charm with english letters. I'm surprised doing that wouldn't interfere with the charms purpose. Unless it's part of it, but I don't know of any ritual that would use initials."

"Suppression..." Caine muttered to himself, looking at the charm around Ragatha's neck. "Why would a marionette need suppressing?"

"They wouldn't. They have no emotions or will to suppress. ...are you thinking what I am?"

"Yes, and I don't like it. I had my entire head inside their core. I didn't see a D.I.E. It doesn't make sense. They're powered by some crystal. I have to run more tests, but if I find presence of a soul... I don't even know what to think." Caine set his drink down.

"We don't know for certain. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. I said it was a type of suppression charm, it doesn't necessarily mean that it was being used to suppress free will. It could have been used to suppress the amount of power in the core. Maybe Shadowblade was too strong and... needed to be tamed."

"I'm willing to bet my last bottle that the charm broke when pomni shot Shadowblade in the chest when they first encountered each other. That's when I met them. That's when they were acting weird. That's what gave me the suspicions that they weren't normal. I should have seen it when I first gave Shadowblade the choice to stay."

"Maybe the crystal itself is a D.I.E?"

"If it is, It's the most unusual way to contain a soul."

"I mean, think about how big they are. Could a single puppet soul pilot an entire war machine without help?"

"Maybe? Maybe not? Take Z, for example. Many her size required the use of multiple souls. A lot of constructor puppets suffered that fate." Caine looks over the map on the table. "You said the stone has fluorite in it?"

"Yes, It's what gives it it's purple color."

"I think I have an idea where it came from." He pointed to a spot far east of the City of Circuits. "The City of Gears was one of the largest industrial cities in the world during the war. Fluorite is used in smelting."

"I don't think I've ever been there."

"The only thing your missing out on is a marionette infestation and bad investments."

"What..?"

"Nevermind. Pomni and Shadowblade could check it out but I want them to take backup."

"I'm not going anywhere near that place."

"I wasn't going to suggest it, I need you here. Z and Kingr are too big to ride on Shadowblade's back, and walking would make it a three day one-way trip. No, they need to fly."

"Gangle wouldn't want to go either."

"That just leaves...oh boy. Pomni's gonna kill me." Caine sighed and downed his brandy.

~

WHAM!!

Shadowblade goes headfirst into a cliff, just missing the top by feet. They dig their claws into he clifface to stop from free falling again. Pomni popped her dislocated shoulder back into place. "Fuck these stupid FUCKING winds!! Why do they keep changing??"

Shadowblade struggled against the crumbling cliff as they climbed to the top. They repositioned themselves to try again, looking back to check on Pomni.

"Just go, before I change my mind. LIKE THE WIND!!" She shouted angrily into the air.

Shadowblade dove over the edge. The momentum carries to their wings and they rose back into the air. With a smoother take off, they settled into a flight pattern around the wasteland. Shadowblade felt more comfident with every wing beat. They went even higher, to the clouds.

Pomni felt oddly at ease when she could no longer see the ground. The mist of the clouds felt cool against her face. When Shadowblade breaches the top, the vibrant colors of the waning sun were all around them. The connection felt calm and happy and excited. This was truly beautiful. The ultimate escape from the world.

Pomni raised her arms up in a shout of elation. Shadowblade roared with her as they soared across the sky.

~

Caine checked his W.A.C.K.Y watch for Shadowblade's position. They would be returning any moment. He left Ragatha to the research and found Jax on the roof.

Jax laid against the slanted roof, watching the stars slowly appear. He heard Caine's blink and internally rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"I have a mission for you." Caine leaned against an adjacent roof section.

"Joy of joys." Jax said sarcastically. "Where am I headed?"

"The City of Gears...with Pomni and Shadowblade."

"Why-"

"Because I need you two to do some investigating. It's about Shadowblade. I'll spare you the details, but I think that's where they came from and it could lead to answers about their origin. I don't expect, nor really care, if you care about Shadowblade. All I need you to do is help Pomni. The city is swarming with marionettes. Who knows what you'll face."

"Hm...sounds dangerous."

"It will be."

"I'll need something in exchange for my services."

"That can be arranged."

"Your watch is quite fancy."

"Off the table." Caine narrowed his eyes.

Jax smirked. "Then I'll have to take a peak in your workshop, do a little...shopping."

"Off. Limits." Caine said sternly.

"Hm, then I guess Pomni's on her own." Jax shrugged.

"I can offer upgrades, charms, hell- new clothes, better accommodations...?"

"Nah, I like your fancy gadgets. They look fun to play with."

Caine grunted. "I'll see what I can come up with, but you an Pomni leave tomorrow."

"Fine. I'll go with piranha teeth to the city of whatever. What exactly are we looking for anyway?"

"....I don't know."

Jax laughed. "Seriously?"

Caine flustered a bit with embarrassment. "Like I said, I just need you to be Pomni's backup. Leave the rest of her and Shadowblade." Caine blinked away.

Jax kept chuckling to himself. "What a maroon."

~

Shadowblade glided down into the city and attempted to land on a long straight stretch of road. They came down a bit fast and stumbled. Pomni barely kept her grip as she was thrown forward ass over teakettle over the handles of the saddle. She hung awkwardly next to Shadowblade's neck until the beast stopped for her to let go.

"That wasn't the worst landing of the day. The fact we're in one piece of good enough for me." Pomni decided to walk the rest of the way to the manor.

Shadowblade was sore all over. Their armor felt overly sensitive to every cut and dent, a few spots bled. A small whine came from them as they walked.

Pomni felt the pain in the connection. "I'm sore too. I'm lucky I could hold on through most of that." She didn't realize the extent of the pain Shadowblade was in. This wasn't just them complaining about being over worked. They felt beaten and battered and bruised for the first time. They weren't used to this level of pain just from getting thrown around. Pomni shooting them and stabbing out their eye hurt less.

They go through the gate and nod to Z. "Yeesh, What happened to you two?"

"The wind." Pomni groaned.

Shadowblade grunted in agreement.

"The...wind?"

"Yes, the fucking WIND. It is an EVIL force of nature. Tossed us like a salad all over the wasteland."

Z sniggered.

Pomni went into the mansion, Shadowblade followed her through the windows. They made a habit of it. It was interesting to see the others interact in this large dollhouse. Not far inside, they see Caine appear in front of Pomni. They spoke. Pomni yelled. He looked exhausted. They half shouted more at each other. They came to an agreement. Pomni stormed away. Caine dragged his hands down the front of his face. Shadowblade had felt mixed emotions through the connection. Frustration, but not anger. Respect, but not fondness. It was interesting and confusing.

Caine caught sight of Shadowblade's golden stare through the dark windows. He waved. Shadowblade slow blinked in return. They moved on the the next floor to find Pomni. They came face to face with Gangle. She screamed. Shadowblade should've seen that coming. They moved down the side of the building.

They spied Ragatha in the library, reading and examining something on the table in from of them. Their optics zoomed in. Pieces of purple stone...markings...SB...

Shadowblade felt like they were hit by a charging drill worm. The letters burn in their mind. Flashes of unknown faces fly through their vision. Gold light. A woman's scream.

Shadowblade topples over and scrambles to their barn. They hid inside, producing a copious amount of mist. Their mind races. Their body shakes. They couldn't hear their core cracking over their hyperventilating.

Pomni would have felt the intense fear and anxiety too, if she hadn't just taken off the charm in preparation to go to bed...

~

Jax was the first out that morning. His hammer collapsed and compacted against his back for travel. He wasn't alone long, the combat harlequin was an early riser when it came to missions. He pointed to the barn. "Is your beast sleeping in or what?"

Pomni hadn't put the charm on yet. She saw black mist pouring out of every crack and crevice like it was a hot box. "...what the hell?" She put on her mask and opened the doors. "Shadowblade! Why are wasting all your mist!? Have you been doing this all night!?"

No response.

"Shadowblade?" Pomni put on the charm. She felt immediate emotional whiplash. Dread. So much dread. Bad people. Enemies. Can't fight. Hide.

Pomni walked through the darkness, finding Shadowblade trembling against the back wall. "What's gotten into you? There are no enemies. We need to go. Knock it off with the mist."

Shadowblade obeyed, finding this feeling easy to ignore under orders. The mist stopped and they followed Pomni out.

Pomni mounted up and cringed as Jax climbed aboard. "God, I can't believe he's making us do this." She grumbles and has Shadowblade start walking out of the city.

"I'm not thrilled about it either, shark tooth, but your hubby promised me something nice in return for babysitting you."

"I don't need babysitting! And he's not my husband! I can barely stand him!"

Jax extended his neck to give her a mischievous grin face to face. "That's not what I saw on my way out the door. Oh, Pomni, Do Be Safe. You'll Be Out Of Radio Range, But You Know I'll Come Running If You Need Me." He mockingly fluttered his eyes at her.

She elbowed him hard in the gut. "If you don't want me shoving you off when we get airborne, you'll shut the fuck up."

"Fine, he's smitten and you're a bitch. Is that more accurate?" Jax rubbed his abdomen.

Pomni growled and had Shadowblade take off. She does her best to ignore the ick she felt as Jax reached around her with his extendable arms to hold onto the saddle handles.

The City of Circuits became a model of itself as they flew high into the air. The winds were calmer today, making things far smoother as Shadowblade found an air current to glide due east.

Jax silently admired the view. Flying was a new experience for him too. He shuddered just a little, looking down, and gripped the saddle tighter.

Pomni mentally reaches out to Shadowblade. There was still an underlying feeling of unease in the connection. She tried to push her own battle ready calm through. Shadowblade was resistant. She out her hand on Shadowblade's back. The physical touch warmed the connection. The feeling of calm was more accepted.

Barely an hour passed before Jax needed to talk again. The splendor of flight wore off fast. "Do you know what we're looking for? Your hubby couldn't say."

"HE'S NOT MY-ugh!! I don't know either. He just said there was something significant to Shadowblade at the City of Gears."

"We're doing all of this on a hunch?"

"Pretty much."

"Tap-dancing Christ."

"Shut the hell up, it's not like you had anything better to do."

"That's not the point. If we don't know what we're doing, and the city's as large as he says, we could be there for days. Sounds boring as fuck."

"He did mention to marionette infestation..."

"So we're either going to be bored to death or be torn apart by marionettes, what fun." Jax rolled his eyes so hard, they nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Welcome to my world."

~

Caine triangulated Shadowblade's position in his watch to the map. If they minimized any stops, they would be in the City of Gears after dusk. Not the best time to be arriving, but the fastest. He pocketed his watch and looked to Ragatha, who was nose deep in a book. "They're making good progress. And it doesn't look like Pomni has left Jax anywhere, so that's a good sign that they haven't killed each other yet."

Ragatha put her book down. "How do you keep track of us..?"

"Let me put it to you this way. If I've made something, I know where it is."

"Oh..." She didn't ask further. "I've been able to decipher some of the less common symbols used on the charm. While I was correct in saying that it was a suppression charm, it's a very particular suppression charm."

"Aren't they all?"

"Yes, every charm is unique, but when I say this one is very particular, I mean that it was assigned to a particular person. Those letters, the initials, I don't think those are someone's signature. I think those are related to the person the charm was meant to control."

"You're confident in saying a person? A soul?" Caine felt his stomach drop.

"Yes. The way the symbols are assorted on the charm, it's a contract. Whoever put their initials on the charm agreed to the terms of the person who created it. Though I can't say if it was done so willingly. My....the one whom I served before...used similar methods." Ragatha shifted in her chair and looked away.

"You needn't explain." Caine reassures. He takes our the core sample and hands it to her. "Give your thoughts on this when you have a chance. I need those charm shards back." He turns to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To test a theory."

~

Pomni focused silently ahead. If she stayed calm, Shadowblade would be calm. It would make the travel that much more bearable. Jax, on the other hand, was bored out of his mind and couldn't stand the silence.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

He waits only a second to ask again. "...how about now?" He smiled.

Pomni's grip tightened. "No."

"Are we there....yet?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"NO!!"

Jax held back a laugh. "You're too easy. Maybe that's why Caine likes you so much. Didn't take him for the type, but whatever floats his boat."

"What the FUCK are you implying??" She turned to glare at Jax.

"Wow, really gotta spell it out for you, huh? I'm calling you a wh-"

Pomni punched him so hard, he tumbled backwards off of Shadowblade. Shadowblade felt something grab their foot. They look down and back to see Jax hanging by one hand. They look back up at Pomni.

"Keep flying. If he falls, he's no longer our problem."

Shadowblade snorted, feeling Pomni's rage.

Jax extended his arms to reach up and grab into the seams of Shadowblade's armor. He hoisted himself back up to the saddle and settled behind Pomni. "I can add sensitive to the list." He called it quits for the time being, she definitely dented a few of his ribs with that hit. He took steady breaths through the pain.

~

Caine locked himself in his workshop and set the charm pieces on a small table with a sigil. He lights the half melted candles and puts both hands on symbols on either side of the sigil. He takes a deep breath and focuses.

Blue energy travels from his heart, down his arms, and to the table. The sigil lights up and the pieces of the charm hover an inch off the table. He mutters ritualisticly under his breath, willing the pieces to be whole again. The electric blue energy shocks the pieces one by one, heating and melting the jagged edges. The pieces fit together and seal the cracks. The reformed charm clatters to the table as he releases it, feeling a little light headed.

"Okay...step one wasn't too hard." He braced himself. "Now....who made you?" He focused again, using his soul energy to tap into the void. He heard faint whispers all around him. The symbols on the charm glow. One whispered voice stands out. A middle aged male voice comes from the charm.

"I....am the Master...."

Caine rolled his eyes. Of course someone who made this kind of charm would call themselves that. He has to stay focused, he could only hold this for so long. "What is the purpose of your charm?"

".... control...."

Fuck. He already knew that. Sweat rolled down his head as he concentrated. "Who is SB?"

"....my greatest creation..."

"No, WHO is SB? Is it a name?"

"...yes, the one who served me..."

"Vague bastard." Caine could barely hold the connection. "Is SB a puppet?"

"...my perfect puppet...obedient and powerful...the soul served without question..."

Caine could feel his hold on the voice slipping. He forced himself to keep going. "HOW? Where is the D.I.E??"

"...within..."

Caine vision blurred with exhaustion. "Are there...others...?"

"...yes...my traitorous son..."

"Where....where...." Caine collapsed. The Master's voice whispered as darkness took him.

"...where it all began..."

~

The sun shone its last as the City of Gears was finally in sight. Massive warehouses and factories towered over all other buildings. The city was ravaged by time and being reclaimed by nature, as the forest on the south side slowly intruded more than half the city.

Shadowblade flew low and made a better landing this time. At least they didn't fall forward on their face. Shadowblade and their passengers stayed alert as they entered the city. It was quiet. Despite being surrounded by trees, no birds sang. The wind was still. They wandered the silent streets aimlessly.

"I think Caine's info is a bit out of date. There's no one here." Jax said.

"Keep your voice down. This place shouldn't be this quiet with the amount of nature here." Pomni's whole body prickled on high alert. Her instincts told her to look up. She did just in time to see a wolf like pouncing from the second story of a broken building. She didn't have time to warn the others. She rolled and slid off Shadowblade as the wolf landed where she had been.

Jax jumped back and slid off the other side. Shadowblade felt the claws of the wolf in their back and bucked it off. More wolves attacked. Pomni dodged one and drew her blade. Jax activated his hammer and swung at a charging wolf, sending it into a wall.

They were surrounded by a dozen wolf sized and shaped marionettes snarling at them.

"Seekers!" Pomni shouted. Seekers were used to track and kill puppets. They tore their prey apart without mercy. As it was getting dark, Pomni put on her mask. Her eyes glowed with Shadowblade's as they stared down their opponents. Shadowblade roared, shaking dust from the ruined buildings. The ungraded blades on their wings and Pomni's sword glowed with energy.

The seekers weren't intimidated and attacked. Pomni put her sword through the mouth of one and she avoided another. She rolled over the back of the one she killed and kicked the next seeker that lunged. Shadowblade sliced two seekers in half with one swipe and whipped ther tail around to the ones behind them.

Jax limbo-ed under the swinging spiked tail and sprang himself into the air to bring his hammer down on one seeker, caving it's body in. He moved quickly to the next, spinning his hammer and launching a seeker into a ruined building.

Pomni got pinned by a seeker, she held it back with her sword in it's maw. It snapped and clawed wildly until Shadowblade chomped down on it's body and threw it away from her. She got to her feet and ran under Shadowblade to get to the seeks attacking on the other side by Jax. She cut through one that was about to pounce.

Jax swung around, saw Pomni and changed trajectory at the last second. He threw his hammer, crushing a seeker's face in.

Shadowblade brought their heavy tail down on one seeker and swung at another. Two jumped on Shadowblade's back and they reared.

"Shadowblade! Roll over!!" Pomni commanded.

Shadowblade did so, crushing the seekers under their bodyweight. Jax laughed, grabbed his hammer and killed another seeker. "Play dead!" He couldn't help himself.

The one remaining aimed for Pomni. It tried fainting left but Pomni was too quick. She decapitated it as it lunged. No other marionettes in sight, they caught their breath.

Jax was in a fit of giggles. "Roll over? Really?"

"What else was I going to say?? Stand there a take it!?"

Jax howled with laughter. "No...no, it isn't that. It's the basic bitch pet command shout during battle. You couldn't call it something else?"

"Like what, smartass?"

"Kill the passenger?" He really didn't have a clever retort, he just thought it was funny.

"God, you're insufferable."

Shadowblade was looking all around for any more signs of danger when they spotted a street corner with small shops. Windows ruined and signs faded, they were still recognizable as a market. Another flash. Shadowblade was short, maybe Pomni's height, walking down the street. The market was alive with people going to a fro. The scent of fresh bread and gardens flowers filled the air.

Shadowblade walked away from Pomni and Jax, following the vision. They were looking through windows at beautifully crafted jewelry and dresses but moving on. The went to a book shop on the corner. The vision fades to reveal a destroyed corner building. The books long destroyed.

"Hey...your beast is walking away."

"Huh? Shadowblade, where are you going? Get back here, we need to stick together." Pomni commanded but Shadowblade didn't obey. They kept walking down the ruins market street. "What the..?"

"Pffff, even your pet if sick of you."

"Fuck off." She moves to follow Shadowblade. "They've never ignored an order before."

Jax followed behind, keeping an eye out for more seekers. His own eyes glowed softly in the unlit city. He didn't need goggles to see in the dark.

Shadowblade looked down a desolate street past the market. A poster on the wall of a business stood out to them. It was barely legible, but it was an ad for a circus. A vision showed the poster it's full glory, they've walked by it many times. It was a landmark for their commute. Moving on, the businesses gave way to town houses and suburban homes. Once large and beautiful homes reduced to rubble.

~

A polite knock rattled Caine's workshop door. "Caine? I have some information on those crystal shards you gave me. ...Caine?"

"Oh dear, maybe he fell asleep. Here, let me help." One of Gangle's ribbons slithered under the door and reached the lock on the inside.

The ladies see Caine on his side in front of his charm table and rush to him. "Caine??" Ragatha checked his heart, he was still alive. "Caine!"

He stirred a a little. "Rag...the..." He lifted his hand to point at the charm on the table and passed back out.

"Oh my god, what did you do to yourself? Gangle?"

"On it." She wrapped her ribbons around Caine, easily lifting and carrying him out of the room.

Ragatha grabbed the charm, impressed to find it in one piece, and followed Gangle. "This must have been an incredibly powerful charm for him to use so much energy to pass out."

"Will he be okay?" Gangle asked worriedly.

"He'll be fine, he just needs rest. Take him to his room." Ragatha went back to the library to study the reformed charm in greater detail.

~

Shadowblade stopped in front of a half collapsed mansion. They stared as a vision of walking through gate entered their mind. They couldn't walk on the grass, no matter how much they wanted to feel it between their toes. They had to take the groceries to the kitchen so the cooks could ready supper for ....for someone. Someone powerful.

"Shadowblade?" Pomni asked quietly. She could feel confusion and deja vu through the connection. "Is this what we came for?" She pointed to the large ruined house.

Shadowblade didn't answer. They didn't know. They stepped over the low ruined wall and inspected the house closer. Three floors of grandeur, once upon a time, now a darkened shell. They could see the grand stairway through the huge hole in the wall, spiraling up all three floors. They went up and down those stairs many times. Lots of work to do. Always an errand. Always a chore.

Jax and Pomni climbed through the rubble to investigate the first floor. Jax aimlessly milled about for any interesting trinkets, but Pomni made a b-line for any intact rooms. She searched for evidence of who once lived here but the ravages of time and war took most everything that once existed in the homestead.

Jax stepped on a losse floorboard and fell through. Shadowblade's bright eyes found the hole he made a peered down. Pomni heard the crash and rushed over. "Hey! You alive?"

"Yes." Jax rubbed his ass. It wasn't a far fall, but it still hurt.

"Shit. I mean, good." Pomni smirked.

"Fuck you."

"Get in line. What's down there?"

"Uh...a basement? Old storage. A few wine racks. Ooh, some of them still have full bottles. Lucky day!"

"You're sharing that!"

"Then get down here and collect your own, lazy ass!"

Pomni jumped down and Shadowblade demolished the part of the house blocking them from entering. They clawed and chewed at the floor to expose a large portion of the basement. As Pomni and Jax bickered over bottles, Shadowblade focused on one corner in particular. A vision showed them being down in the basement to put away some preserved food. A figure in the dark was in the corner reaching for something in the ground. Something heavy closed shut. The figure yelled at them.

Shadowblade clawed the ground and they came in contact with something heavy and metal. They dug up a large ancient safe.

"OH SHIT! Now we're talking!" Jax excitedly examines the safe. He figures the locking mechanism is far rusted in place and the only way into it, is with a really big hammer. He brings his hammer down several times until the safe warped and the door didn't fit in the frame. Much to his disappointment, there were no treasures inside. Only papers. He goes back to the wine racks.

Pomni sifted through the papers. There was a lot of boring stuff, banknotes and contracts and deeds and bills of sale, but... There was also a journal. She opened it to find it full of gibberish. Backwards and mixed writing that made no sense.

Shadowblade could just make out the tiny writing. It didn't make sense to them either, but the journal itself looked important. They leaned their head down to press the journal towards Pomni, encouraging her to keep it.

Pomni looked up with an arched brow. "This? ...alright."

She dug around a bit more and an envelope marked "confidential" piqued her interest. Inside was a letter, addressed to no one.

Sir,

The project has proven successful.

The subject is integrated.

On your order, activation protocol Warshroud is a go.

"War shroud?" Pomni said our loud and Shadowblade froze.

Visions of being taken. Beaten. Hurt. Scared. Men talking. WARSHROUD.

Pomni felt all of it. This was the right path. There was no address but their was a symbol of a hammer and pickaxe on the stationary. She recognized that symbol from one of the factories they passed on their way in. "Hey, numbnuts, we're moving on." She climbed up Shadowblade's head and laid a comforting hand on them as Jax finished stuffing wine bottles into his bag. He extended his arm to grab shadowblade's shoulder and hoisted himself up.

Pomni steered Shadowblade to the factory. Massive bay doors laid on the ground, leaving an entrance large enough for Shadowblade. The inside was as ruined as the rest of the city. Nothing of interest remained intact.

Shadowblade spotted another set of large doors. These, they recognize. A vision of being barely conscious. Restrained. Helpless. The heavy metal doors sealed any escape. Shadowblade trembled. They didn't want to take another step.

"What is this place?" Jax asked, looking around.

"I'm not sure. Shadowblade, we're here because Caine believes there are answers to what- er, who? You are. He's a crackpot, but a smart crackpot. Can you keep going?"

Shadowblade shook in place, refusing to move.

"... alright." Pomni slid off and went to the doors herself. "Come on, Jax. We'll have a look around ourselves. Shadowblade can wait up here."

Jax left his bag hooked to the saddle and dismounted to go with Pomni. "Another dusty old basement, this place is just full of wonder." He sighed.

Down below was more destroyed than above. Hardly anything was recognizable as equipment. Giant smashed tubes held remnants of crystals of various colors. Claw marks and old burns charged the walls and floor.

"Looks like one of their projects backfired." Pomni commented as she stepped over some rubble.

"Shadowblade?"

"I don't know. There's a lot i don't know, but....looking at all of this, this isn't a normal marionette production facility. That's for damn sure."

~

Shadowblade felt a crack. A glacial popping sound from within. The crystal within their core broke further. More visions came. War was declared! Puppet uprising! A mother's touch. A handsome stranger. Debt. Famine. Disease. Death. Work in the city. Suffering. Gold light. Blinding. Obey. OBEY! Shadowblade roared in confusion and pain. Their cries echoed through the factory.

Jax and Pomni stiffened as they heard Shadowblade above. A loud mechanical whirring in the rubble beside them signaled something was powering on. Two intensely bright purple lights shone and rose high above them. In the dark, both could just make out the silhouette of a beast. A beast twice the size of Shadowblade.

Pomni and Jax bolted for the exit, sprinting back out through the facility doors. The purple lights finding them as they run. Monstrous booming announced the creature's pursuit.

Shadowblade felt the floor quake and got their senses about them as Pomni and Jax came running out, purple light right behind them.

Jax gave Pomni a boost throw onto Shadowblade and grabbed onto the saddle himself. Pomni whistled for Shadowblade to run.

Shadowblade got just a glimpse of the beast after them. A huge break-like maw snapping at them. They got outside and made for wider streets to attempt take off.

The roof to the factory exploded. Enormous silver wings lifted the beast into the air as it urgently broke free to pursue its prey. It's body gleamed in the moonlight, this beast was never meant to hide. It dove as Shadowblade finally found enough space to spread their own wings.

Without enough forward momentum to get away, Pomni whistled for Shadowblade to halt. They dropped to the ground and skidded as the silver beast landed hard in front of them, demolishing several buildings. Outside and up close they could see that this creature was also quadrupedal. It's silver steel body glowed with purple energy from every crack in the armor. The wings were on its back, giving it all four legs to fight with in the air. The head and front legs were bird-like and heavily armored, talons as long as Pomni was tall. The back end of the body was like a lion, the tail long and thin with a bladed end.

For the half second the creature was down Pomni mentally steeled herself for battle. Shadowblade, confused and scared, found comfort in Pomni's resolve. Shadowblade lunged, doing for the beast's neck. Pomni jumped from Shadowblade to the silver beast and clamped her mechanical hand onto it's face plates. Jax also jumped, going as high as he could and activating the spikes to bring his hammer down hard on the beast's head.

Shadowblade tried to hold the beast in place, clawing at it's chest and holding tight to it's neck. Jax's hammer comes down and barely makes a dent. He practically bounces off and lands hard below the brawling beasts. Pomni tried jamming her sword into the beast's eye but her sword doesn't pierce the optic at all, she just annoys it.

The beast shoves back against Shadowblade, pushing them away and shaking off Pomni. The beast's claws left deep marks in Shadowblade's shoulders. Shadowblade roared and the beast roared back. The talons and beak of the beast glowed purple, like Shadowblade's wing blades. Shadowblade was already glowing and went for the slash attack. The beast whipped it's tail, having farther reach, forcing Shadowblade to doge and abandon their attack.

Pomni's blade glowed brightly and she went for a back leg. The energy from her blade made a small cut into the heel. "JAX!! USE ENERGY!!"

Jax was way ahead of her. As the beast turned to attack Pomni, his hammer lit up with green energy. He ran up Shadowblade's tail and back to spring himself up and come down between the beast's shoulder blades. His hammer did damage this time. A lot of it. The silver armor split and broke around the wing joints. The beast roared and reared to remove Jax. Shadowblade slashed a deep cut along the side of the beast as it went up. Shadowblade kept themself between the beast and Pomni.

Pomni wasn't having that. She used her grapple to grab the beast and reel herself to it's back, where she dragged her energized sword up the beast's front leg. Shadowblade tore at the beast's throat again, removing armor by the mouthful. Jax dodged the beast's blades tail and smashed at the beast's spine.

The beast's purple eyes brightened and it tore it's claws into Shadowblade, it lifted them off the ground and suplexed the lot of them into a row of buildings. Pomni's and Jax barely got off the back in time as everything came crashing down.

Finally being free of the 3v1, the beast took off for the arial advantage. It circled around and aimed for the largest target, diving for Shadowblade's exposed belly.

Shadowblade was discombobulated. They lost track of Pomni. Their large wings were stuck under rubble. All they could do was roar in defense as the beast came down.

But the beast never came. A wall of green ice flew up out of the ground and blocked the attack. The wall crumbled but the beast was taken off guard and missed, giving Shadowblade enough time to get up.

Jax huffed against a brick wall with his hand out. He hadn't had to make something that big in a long time, it took a bit out of him. Pomni patted Jax on the shoulder as she sprinted passed to get to Shadowblade. "You owe me!!" He shouted after her.

Pomni mounted as Shadowblade righted themself. "Come on!! Let's show this mother fucker exactly who he's dealing with!!"

Shadowblade roared and took off as fast as they could. Finally airborne, they circled with the beast. Back and gold streaked across the sky opposing silver and purple. Shadowblade went on the offensive, aiming to slash at the beast as they flew by at top speed. The beast rolled and slashed them instead, with it's talons. Shadowblade want deterred. They went again, this time making the slash. Them again. And again. Being lighter and faster, Shadowblade made several successful attacks.

The beast roared with fury and opened its maw wide. Purple energy gathered between its jaws.

"What the fuck..?" Pomni muttered.

A wide beam of energy blasted out from the beast. Shadowblade narrowly escaped it hitting their body, but one of their wings was partially clipped.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?!?" Pomni steered Shadowblade away, dodging another fly by. "We need to disappear!" She pulled up and Shadowblade flew into the clouds, mist pouring from their body.

The beast followed, being blinded the moment they flew into the thick shroud. For a moment, the beast hovered in place. Then, a slicing blade cut them from the dark. Their tail fell to the city below. The beast roared and charged their energy weapon again, but before they could fire, a golden razor X flew at them and they had to abort. The beast flew above the clouds and mist, circling and searching.

Shadowblade came flying straight up, and sliced one of it's wings in half. The beast plummeted. It smacked into a factory chimney before crashing through an warehouse roof and to the ground.

Jax saw the fall and ran to catch up, his quick feet moving even faster with green energy.

Shadowblade didn't give the best the chance to get up. They came barreling down through the broken roof and slammed the beast with their powerful front claws. Purple fluid went flying. The silver beast thrashed wildly, trying to take off on one wing. Shadowblade couldn't keep it down, the larger beast kicked them off and charged. Shadowblade barely got Pomni out do the way before the beast slammed into them. Pomni was thrown, recovered and transformed their hand to fire at the open wounds on the beast's body. The gapping wounds proved to be easy targets, every shot found in opening and blew them even wider.

The beast ignores Pomni, focusing all of its hatred onto Shadowblade. It's talon's cut and slash into the armor, getting deep and breaking vital systems. Shadowblade fought back, using their tail to stab the beast, but it was unrelenting. That it opened it's maw again. A terrible buildup of purple energy formed right in front of Shadowblade's face.

"NO!!!" Pomni ran out of shots and hacked at the beast's back leg. She wasn't doing anywhere near as much damage as she wanted to, not deterring the beast in the slightest. "FUCK YOU!! OVER HERE!!" She stabbed it full on in the leg, no reaction.

As the beast was about to fire, Jax comes in out of nowhere, his hammer encased in green ice, and slams the beast right in the back of the mouth. The collision of the green and purple energy causes a massive explosion in the beast's throat.

There is a hush as the smoke clears. Everyone is down. The silver beast no longer had a head. It's body torn, purple blood soaking the floor. Pomni, the furthest from the explosion, rises first. She limps over to Shadowblade, whose eyes are inactive. "Hey...wake up. We won..." She put her hand on Shadowblade's face.

She looked around. "Jax..?" She sees him on his side, facing away from her. She limps to him and carefully rolls him on his back. She puts her hand over his heart, he's still active. A sigh of real relief escapes her.

Shadowblade stirs. Heavy damaged but alive. They slowly crawl over to the two smaller puppets and curl their big body protectively around them.

"It's okay...it's dead. You did good." Pomni gave a small smile and Shadowblade blinked slowly back.

Jax woke with a loud groan. "God...damn! This is why I hate using energy. Gives me an awful fucking headache."

Pomni slapped Jax on the chest. "You crazy bastard! You could have died!"

Jax groaned and laughed. "But it was awesome, wasn't it?"

"...yeah, it was." She checked her saddle bag for supplies and saw wine leaking from Jax's bag. She peeked inside to see only one surviving bottle. She took it and handed it to him as she performed some basic puppet first aid. "You've earned that."

Jax broke the neck of the bottle and poured some in his mouth before offering to Pomni.

Pomni accepted and saluted Jax.

Shadowblade watched as long as they could before exhaustion claimed them. As they powered down, the darkness that would normally greet them became bright and other worldy. For the first time in their mechanical life, Shadowblade dreamed.

~~~

To be continued...

[silver-wield]

I dont get why ppl think Aerith will play a role in the lifestream nor do I get why ppl are listening to others who are pushing that theory either and getting concerned. Aerith is not going to play a role in repairing Cloud's mind. If she even does appear, if devs decide to appease some fans, it would most likely not even be in a speaking capacity and may be lumped in with an appearance by other dead comrades like Biggs, Jessie at the end or something. But her being involved doesnt make sense because overall the lifestream sequence is essentially one big "LSD trip" to repair fragments of memories from events that occurred before the beginning of the game. Aerith has no role in that so that makes no sense that someone who knows nothing about youngNibelheim!Cloud would know how to?? I like to make theories too but this one just doesnt make any logical sense. Overall, Rebirth already foreshadowed that Tifa is the only one who will be capable of repairing Cloud's mind by showing time and again that she is the only one who can snap him out of his trippy moments during the game. So not hard to conclude that the 3rd game's lifestream sequence, a huge part of the story and the climax of the overall story as well, will be Tifa healing Cloud, just the same as the OG.

All the precious memories we saw the weapons protecting are places only Cloud and Tifa know. Even the hidden stargazer heights is a place just for them.

And all the ultis state that Tifa is the only one Cloud opened himself up to in this way. He never let anyone else in his heart.

[talentforlying]

@asteritm: ❛ the world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. i won't let anything happen to you. ❜ — HOUSE OF USHER STARTERS

when she comes back, it's easy to pretend like he'd always known she would. for a while.

after all, she's LILLY. she slips back into his life so simply, with a gift drink and a smile, it's easy to imagine she'd only really stepped out of it for the weekend — off to get some space from all the magic and weirdness, to take in an air of normal living. it's easy to think that all those nights he'd left the light on ( hoping that the glow would guide her home, hoping less and less each time ) had been little more than sentimental foolishness, because she'd probably booked her return ticket on the very same night she left and he'd probably forgotten about it in the interim. and when he can finally face her again in person, she's so sincere, so apologetic, so effortlessly, radiantly beautiful — and the sentient new digs she brought with her are so endlessly fucking fascinating — he could almost believe ( could, but doesn't; wants to. will ) that she'd always known she was coming back, too. she makes it so easy to think so.

con man's rule of thumb: never believe your own bullshit.

the pretense is enough to get by, for a while. he's HAPPY to see her, truly, relieved to welcome the balm of her presence after the agonies of his past year in the kiln without her; more than willing to forget her contributions to his pain for the sweet relief she brings in behind it. but the trouble with pretense is that it's only aesthetic: the painted face of a happy home does fuckall to repair all of the spindly little fingerling CRACKS left behind by his firing. he is riddled through with arterial vulnerabilities, faults which, untreated, snake freely through the crumbling clay of his core and flay his defenses until the systemic damage is so vast that he threatens to cave in on himself with the lightest pressure. in time, he does; creek beds of grief bowing into valleys of sorrow, cleaving into fissures. the fragmented pieces of john constantine splitting smaller and smaller until they finally come apart.

lilly isn't there when the collapse starts — although her voicemail preserves the fracture point, crystallized in a megabyte of miserable, lonely time — but she's there to watch the glue give way. john isn't prepared to hide it from her. he'd been too busy pretending it was gone.

she's there in the middle of the night when the prickly ghost-caress of a rat tail along the inside of his sternum forces his spine rigid against the headboard and crushes his knees into his chest; when the shivering judders his teeth together and curls his hands into useless claws, slick with sweat and red-palmed with welts when lilly draws them out from where they'd fisted painfully beneath the sheltering curve of his ribcage. she's there in the kitchen when reality shunts sideways mid-conversation, branching off after a familiar phrase, and john slips out of his body with it; when the hour hand has clicked by twice by the time he's able to take in and respond to her voice, to feel his fingers bend and flex again, and feel the warmth of her fingers squeezing back.

she's there with one foot out the front door, saying something funny, when the distant shatter of GLASS from the street outside electrifies his brain and john's no longer laughing but dragging her bodily back inside by the arms, babbling a string of warnings and pleas he doesn't remember; throwing the locks and pinning his back to the door until she promises not to go out there, until she promises him that she still hasn't, yet. until he's shuddered his way to the floor with a weak-kneed thump, tipped his clammy forehead into the cradle of her soothing palm, drowned himself in her lovely, worried eyes and thought, you weren't there. you don't know. what they did, what they can do, what it's like... and one of them's still alive. nowhere will ever be safe for me again, lilly. d'you understand that? it'll never be safe. i'll never be safe for anyone again.

he doesn't learn that he'd said it all aloud until later — after lilly has coaxed him off the floor and onto the couch, curled up beside him with her knees tucked up underneath her and both of her warm, steady hands clasped and intertwined over and between both of his ragged, shaking ones. she's tipped their heads together, temple to temple; he can feel her pulse through his skull like a twin heart, inviting his to keep time. her hair tickles his chin, his ear, his shoulder. the most real she's seemed to him since she came back.

the world might not be safe, lilly says, and john feels her fingers slip free of their knotted hands, raised to press feather-light against his newly-scarred cheek and turn his face to hers. but listen to me, and listen carefully. her eyes are dark and wet and solemn, fierce with some emotion he doesn't dare presume to name. i won't let anything happen to you.

you can't promise that, he wants to argue. look at everything that happened to me when you left. look at everything that happened because of me. what will you do when i'm the thing that happens, lilly? will you protect yourself from me?

and yet... when he looks into her eyes, he believes her. not almost, could almost, could one day believe her — he believes her, today, now. feels her conviction sizzle through him like static from every point where their bodies touch; conviction against every possibility, in spite of probability. the conviction to bend or break whatever rules need not apply.

and christ, too, but he loves her. gets in his own way about it more often than is sane, can't bring himself to tell her now around the colossal scream still perched inside the hollow of his throat, but he loves her. needs her safe, and well, and here. needs her to be real. needs to fall asleep beside her with all the lights out.

don't leave me, he whispers to her fingertips, ashamed to ask it of her eyes.

she doesn't promise him anything. she knows better than that. but she lets him lay his head in her lap, and wrap his arms around her knees like a child; lets him cry out his loneliness and his gratitude and his grief until he's exhausted, and then she tells him again: i won't let anything happen to you. and he knows she would never.

when his eyes drift closed, it's the first time since her return that john goes to sleep believing — sincerely, without a shred of doubt — that his girl will still be there the next time he opens them. how could he not?

lilly constantine makes it easy to believe in her.

[thatafkjfic]

Ryeham Tales VI- Franz the Suspect

first part

Hogan looks up, a look of concern crossing his face as he sees the party enter his office. He doesn't bat an eye at the random wilder guy who's joined them (because he had scampered after them when they left for Holistone), almost like he's grown used to Ren showing up places with an unexpected new companion.

"Magister, how goes the investigation? Made any new discoveries?" He gestures to the chair before his desk, to Ren's relief. They didn't want to look any weaker than they already have since waking up, but goddamn have they been standing for a while. As Ren drops into the chair, Valen begins explaining everything they had learned today regarding Lord Franz's dealings. Hogan strokes his beard as he listens. He seems distressed but not surprised.

"But even after all that, we still don't have enough concrete evidence to convict Lord Franz in a court of law," Valen concludes. "Even if we manage to gather witnesses that he hasn't already paid off, all he has to do is feign ignorance and render our accusations meaningless. We need more conclusive proof, something even a man as slippery as him can't get out of."

"But before that, Mirael should be released," Ren says.

Rowan speaks up. "Yes, I completely rescind my statement condemning her. I was wrong, and I owe her an apology."

Hogan nods and gets up, opening the door and giving an order to a knight in the hallway. Only a few minutes later, the door reopens and a knight ushers the Scarlet Sorceress into the room. Her ocean blue eyes scan the occupants.

"Oh my... this is quite the crowd." Her gaze lands on Ren and remains fixed on them. Ren is getting better at ignoring the stabbing pain that trying to access their memories brings. More has come back to them, but not even close to everything.

Rowan steps forward sheepishly. "Um... I'm sure you don't want to see me right now, Miss Mirael. But I would like to apologize for accusing you. You see, all of-"

"It's fine," the mage interrupts, her gaze never leaving Ren. "No apologies needed. If anything, I should thank you. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be running around for my sake." She nods her head at Ren. "Isn't that right, Magister?"

Ren is slowly piecing together their memories one by one as the fragments gradually clear. "You're not wrong."

She chuckles. "I suppose you have questions you want to ask me?"

"You were trying to repair the ward."

She smirks. "That's not a question." She appreciates Ren's unamused look for a moment before speaking again. "All I know is that someone is interfering with it. I tried, but I couldn't stop it."

Ren gives a disappointed exhale. "Because you tried to force it. What, I disappear for a couple years and suddenly you forget everything I taught you?"

Her eyes widen ever so slightly before she regains her composure. "That was much faster than even you expected."

"Let's not do this here." The room has fallen silent, everyone just watching the interaction. Rowan and Lorsan look bewildered, while the two knights seem to follow only slightly better.

Her eyes finally leave Ren's face to glance around at their audience. "Fine. How about we take a walk, just you and me? Like a date."

"Very well." Ren ignores her last comment as they stand and glance at Hogan. "Please excuse me for a moment."

Hogan nods, and Ren leads the way out the door.

...

The two mages wander in silence through the town. They eventually come to a little garden filled with blue flowers, and Ren sits on one of the benches. Mirael remains standing, running her manicured fingers over the petals of a flower.

After a moment, she speaks up. "Do you remember that these are my favorite?" She looks back up at them.

Ren realizes that they must've been close with her, as they feel no discomfort in meeting her eyes. "I don't remember anything."

She hums and turns her gaze back to the flowers. "That's not quite true, though, is it?"

Ren thinks it over. "It was this morning, but perhaps not anymore. Even still, the things I remember are not accessible as memories themselves. When I draw upon my knowledge, it is like a reflex. But the more i try to reach for an actual memory, the further it slips from my grasp."

"That was something you had described." Mirael studies them. "You really did it, then."

"Did what?" Ren asks curiously.

"For as long as I knew you, you were researching memory. You didn't reveal your reasonings until years and years later. Even then, you only told me a little." She holds their gaze. "When you told me there would come a day that you would forget me... I didn't want to believe it. It haunted my nightmares, and I didn't even know the whole story. I still don't." The sorceress sighs. "How long has it been, since you woke up without your memory?"

They glance at the afternoon sun. "Depends. What time is it?"

Her eyes widen. "You mean it was today?"

"It's been a rather long day."

She shakes her head, her flame-red hair fluttering a little in the breeze. "No, you don't understand. You told me that the first time it happened, it was years before you started to remember things. And after you had started to develop spells to protect yourself, you brought it down to one year, then just under a year, and you said the last time took eight months. You're telling me that you improved your spells so much that you've reduced the recovery time to hours?"

"To be fair, it sounds like I had ample time and four trials to figure it out."

Mirael sighs. "You sound like yourself already."

...

A certain knight slips out of the Order's headquarters when he's sure no one is watching. He figures that a mane of bright red hair with a tall, pointed black hat shouldn't be too hard to find.

It wasn't. Valen leans his back against the retaining wall, a garden of blue flowers above him. Luckily this area of Holistone is a bit quieter, so he's just able to make out the voices above.

"-my favorite?"

"I don't remember anything."

...

Valen's head is spinning with all this new information about the mysterious mage that had earned General Hogan's respect. He's so caught up that he doesn't notice the tall man with taller ears approaching him, until he's stood in front of the knight with his arms crossed. Valen's eyes widen, and Lorsan cocks his head. The wilder raises his eyebrows, and Valen cringes. Lorsan gestures for him to follow, and they make their way up to the garden.

Once the two mages come into view, Valen sees how they're both looking right at them. He supposes it would be stupid to think that they could sneak up on someone as powerful as Ren.

Mirael crosses her arms, giving them an uninterested once-over. "I didn't know this was a double date."

Lorsan shrugs. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was walking through Holistone and I heard Lord Franz's voice. I thought you might want to see what he's up to." Ren's gaze flicks to Valen, which Lorsan seems to notice. "I headed back to the Heroic Order to see if you were there, but Valen said you weren't back yet. It didn't take us too long to find you, though."

Valen is a little surprised. He had expected the wilder to rat him out for eavesdropping, or at least not bother to cover for him. The lie rolled off Lorsan's tongue far easier than Valen would have expected.

"Very well." Ren glances at the woman next to them. "We can continue this another time."

She smirks ruefully. "Always on the move. Honestly, I'm surprised I even got you for this long."

Ren doesn't reply, merely walking towards their companions. "Lead the way."

...

Ren can't say they're surprised when Lorsan leads them to Lady Vala's manor. Franz is standing at her doorstep once again, speaking to a maid.

The maid does not seem impressed with Franz. "In any case, my lady is tending to important business. You may take your leave now, Lord Franz."

Valen barely holds in a laugh, which Ren tries to ignore.

The nobleman holds out his hand to stop the maid from closing the door in his face. "Wait, wait! Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything. Just let me see Lady Vala!" Valen begins to snicker.

"Please excuse me. I have other matters to attend to." The maid closes the door in Franz's face.

Valen bursts into laughter, making Franz whirl around, face flushed, which Ren would wager is due in equal parts to anger and embarrassment.

Lorsan grins. "It does seem that there are things money can't buy." Ren snorts.

Valen is starting to like this bunny boy more and more. "That's not likely to be a concept that Lord Franz can comprehend," he responds.

Franz gets even angrier when he recognizes them. "You lot again? Such an unseemly group of people, like diseased rats spreading their plague wherever they go!"

"I'm sure the lady is rather tired of the persistent vermin scratching at her door," Ren speculates. Valen and Lorsan both laugh at that.

Franz is enraged. "Silence, you pests! Guards!"

A couple hired mercenaries approach the trio, because apparently Franz didn't remember how well that worked the first time. But before Ren can even do anything, the door opens again. An elegantly beautiful young woman stands in the doorway, dressed expensively. Her perfect features make even distain look stunning. Franz turns quickly to her, his demeanor switching instantly.

"Lady Vala!" Franz bows, his voice sickeningly polite. "It's been quite difficult to get a meeting with you, my lady."

Lady Vala gives him a cold stare. "You've got some nerve, Lord Franz. Is this how you respond to someone who is too busy to meet you? By picking quarrels at their doorstep?"

Franz sputters. "You misunderstand, my Lady. It was these miscreants who started the fight, not I."

Deep brown eyes turn to the trio in question, examining the situation. "Do you think me a fool, Lord Franz?" she asks, turning back to him.

Franz gasps. "Never, my Lady!"

"I care little for your petty squabbles. However, it is plain to see the undrawn weapons at the belt of this swordsman as he stares down the tip of one of your own hired blades." Vala gives the entire group a glare. "If you wish to continue this nonsense, I demand that you do it elsewhere. If even one of my flowers gets stepped on, you will all suffer my wrath."

Franz waves his henchmen away. Ren gives a slight bow to Vala in acknowledgement. Her piercing stare fixes on them.

Valen steps forward and bows. "Please don't be upset, my Lady. It breaks my heart to see a frown on a face as lovely as yours." Ren raises an eyebrow, watching him.

Vala seems unimpressed. "I beg your pardon, sir. While you do not wear the armor of the Heroic Order, am I right to assume that you are a member of the Solitaries? Why is someone like you getting involved in petty disputes such as this?"

Valen is so shocked that he actually forgets to maintain his neutral expression for a moment. "What do you mean, my Lady?" he says, regaining his composure.

Vala raises an eyebrow. "Spying, infiltration, and sabotage... you are the swords and shields of the royal family. How can one be unaware of those that serve them?"

"...Then it is I, who have taken the liberty." Valen kneels.

"There, now you sound like a Solitaire." The lady turns her attention back to Franz, and Valen rises. "Now, then, Lord Franz. What could be so urgent that you would disturb me like this?"

Franz snaps to attention. "My Lady, I merely wish to extend an invitation to the Golden Banquet." He reaches out to hand her a gold envelope, which she looks at in distaste. The maid at her side takes it instead. "I am holding a celebration of this year's harvest, in three days time. I would like to invite you to come."

Vala's piercing stare is locked on Ren, completely ignoring the disgustingly hopeful look Franz wore. "...I see. Now, if that is all, I would like to go and get some rest. I wish you all a pleasant day and safe travels." Her stare lingers a moment longer before she disappears into the manor, and the maid closes the door.

Franz whips around to look at the trio with a scowl. "Have you been following me?"

"Why?" Valen asks innocently. "Does the idea frighten you?" Now that Franz knows what he is, he leans into it. "There are only two kinds of people who receive this kind of special treatment from the Solitaries. The first are the royal family or important figures like the magister here. The second," Valen lowers his voice and gives the noble an intense stare, "are criminals. Which one are you?"

Franz'z eyes widen, but he looks at Ren. "Ha! You claim this magister is a person of import?" He gives the person in question a once-over. "With neither wealth nor title, what makes him any different from the rest of the common rabble?"

Valen's hand goes to his sword, but Ren places their hand over his.

Franz turns up his hooked nose. "All mages are mad, every last one of you." There it is.

"All of us?" Ren questions quietly.

Lorsan catches on immediately. "You seem to have some experience with mages, Lord Franz," he agrees. "Hey, did you hear that a mage summoned fire elementals during the fire in North Ryeham this morning?"

Franz scoffs. "Insinuate all you want! You'll never find any evidence." He attempts to glare threateningly at them again. "You overestimate yourselves. Making an enemy out of me is the worst thing you can do!" He stomps away with his guards.

Lorsan shakes his head in disbelief. "That man's arrogance knows no bounds. He's been exposed, and yet he acts like nothing has happened." The trio begins walking back towards the center of town.

Valen turns to Ren. "Any idea why she was staring you down?"

Ren shrugs. "Might've guessed who I am."

"How? Did you have it inked across your forehead?"

"You tell me. It took you about half a day." Valen gives a nod of concession.

Lorsan looks between them for a moment before changing the subject. "Anyway, what's this about a banquet?"

"First I've heard of it," Valen says. "Lord Franz's manor is guarded like it's a fortress, and he rarely has guests, let alone a party."

Ren hums in understanding. "So why now?"

Valen nods. "Exactly."

"So, we're attending this banquet, right?" Lorsan asks. "How do we get one of those invitations?"

Valen glances at Ren. "We can talk to Rowan about it tomorrow. For now, I'll update the general." He stops and turns to the mage. "And Ren, you look exhausted."

"Thanks," they reply flatly.

Valen can't help but chuckle at that. "Seriously, though. This was a long day and you did a lot of very impressive magic. You've more than earned some rest. I can bring you to get a room at the inn, or...?"

Ren shakes their head. "Thank you, but I live on the outskirts of Holistone, it's not far." 

Valen frowns. "Can I walk you back? Or- ride with you, if you want to summon another magic horse."

Ren smiles slightly. "I'm okay. I'll meet you at the Order's headquarters tomorrow morning, yeah?"

Valen looks uneasy, but nods. "Alright. Be safe."

Ren nods to him and Lorsan, then heads out of the town. They do end up summoning Indy again, who of course is happy to give them a ride. They lean their head on his mane as the horse walks back to the Mystical house.

They nearly fall asleep along the way, and when they arrive back they promise Dolly the story sometime and promptly fall into bed, falling asleep instantly.

...

They got a decent night's rest after they woke from a horrific nightmare around midnight and only then remembered they were in the habit of setting up sleep wards for this very reason, among others. Dolly kindly prepared breakfast for them before they headed back to Holistone. 

By the time they reach the gate of the Heroic Order headquarters, the sunlight has warmed away the morning dew. Holistone is waking up, the market just beginning to buzz with activity. A familiar knight waits for them next to the guard. The two wordlessly fall into step together as they head for the Mithri Consortium.

Valen leads the way through the doors of the large building, and speaks to a man at a desk. A moment later, they're shown into an office, where Rowan is waiting for them. Bradduck is sitting in a perch in the corner. After a nod to Rowan, Ren bids the duck hello. They don't seem to notice the amused look on Valen's face as he watches.

"Hello, my friends. Magister Ren, when you spoke to Miss Mirael, did it seem like she could find it in her heart to forgive me?" The boy seems earnest, like he really was distressed at the thought of her holding a grudge.

Ren thinks this boy will make a fine businessman, so long as his morals remain uncorrupted. "Looks like she's over it."

Rowan beams. "Wonderful! My family has a saying: 'On the road, everyone is a customer.'" Ren's not entirely sure what that means, and a quick glance at Valen finds him equally puzzled. "The Mithril Consortium cannot afford to lose such a customer all because of my personal failures," the boy concludes.

Valen clears his throat. "...Right. Anyway, did you happen to receive a gold invitation from Lord Franz recently?"

Rowan turns to his desk, picking up an envelope identical to the one they's seen the noble give Vala. "You mean this? It just arrived this morning. I didn't get the chance to open it." He frowns, opening the letter. "You say it's from Lord Franz?"

"That's right. I'm sure you can guess why we're looking to get into that party," Valen says.

Rowan scans the letter. "Sure, but there's a problem. I'm not permitted a guest."

Valen frowns. "That's rather odd for a banquet, isn't it?" He thinks for a moment. "Hey, Rowan, you wouldn't happen to need a personal guard at this banquet, would you?"

Rowan understands. "Actually, now that you mention it, my fiancee has been telling me I need a guard for a while. You're offering your services?"

"I'd be willing to take up a temporary position until you find someone for the position," Valen replies.

Rowan nods. "Very well. What about you, Magister?"

Ren shrugs. "As long as there's no strong detection wards on his property, a disillusionment spell should work just fine for me. Lorsan, too, if he joins us."

"Then we have our plan," Valen says. "Rowan, we'll meet you here at three, the day after tomorrow."

...

Ren and Valen run into Lorsan outside the Consortium. They fill him in on the plan, then the three part ways for now, with Ren returning to the Mystical House and Valen heading back to the Order's headquarters to get a head start on the report for all this.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

A Shinichiro x reader, is a human who is enhanced with robotics part such as one arm or leg. This a a universe that has robots and cyborgs those who have the most money or most influence have the best models of robots and Cybogs. Shin is an engineer who collects scraps in a scrap graveyard to find ways to build/repair robots in his lab. His next trip to the graveyard he finds Y/N injured and takes her to his lab to fix her up. Strangers to Friends to Lovers.

been sittin' on this one for a while. feeling this vibe tonight, though.

Scrap Yard (Part 1): Shinichiro Sano x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: fluff

masterlist

Scrap metal.

Shinichiro loves scrap metal. He's not sure when he first came to know of its existence or how he came to possess the first fragments of shiny silver, copper, and brass that decorate his office. But he does know that the first time he fixed something, he was in the first grade and almost shit himself watching the old clock come back to life.

From then on, Shin knew he was destined for great things. Well, things were better than his hometown and upbringing, at least.

Taking off at lunch was normal for a nice day, and everyone at the robot factory knew Shin would make his way to his old motorcycle and rev it up before speeding through downtown to the one place he loved most: the junkyard.

And today is no different.

As Shin uses his thirty-minute lunch to pick through items and dust them off, he watches his step - rodents loved this place just as much as he did - and keeps a sharp sense of hearing out for the sound of the trash collectors. One wrong move and he'd be swept away with the other discarded items destined for the burning landfill behind the junkyard.

"You ever think about this place like a gold mine?" he wonders to no one, eyes scanning the hunks of old cars, signs, and trash collected together in one place. Shin inhales the scent of promise deeply, filling his lungs with the acrid smell of rusting metal before exhaling with a smile. "Let's get to work."

First, he unpacks his little helper, TeeBo, from the back of his motorcycle. TeeBo is his refurbished metal detector, but the difference between him and the other detectors is it's not handheld. "Listen, Tee," Shin begins, holding the device out and watching it power up. "Today, we're scanning for radios."

"Radios?" it repeats, the metal propellor unfolding from the top of its inhuman head.

"Radios. With wires."

"On it, boss," the little device sings, then lifts out his hand and begins its journey high in the sky. Shin follows behind it, hands in his pockets while the device scans piles, then returns a beeping sound - no radios here. Really TeeBo does most of the work identifying each item and examining the yards of trash for Shin, but Shin always follows closely in case TeeBo misses something.

TeeBo flies ahead of him, scanning every way and returning the same beeping sound. Shin didn't need another radio for the collection (it would be number 75). Still, he would like to have another to refurbish and put up on iTrade for a pretty penny, labeling it as a "collectible vintage item." People would pay top dollar for something like that.

The sound of TeeBo flying around fades as the machine does its job quickly. Shin briefly looks down at his watch, noting the time, before looking back up and hearing a small siren.

Shin breaks out in a smile and jogs toward the sound, excited to see what TeeBo had found. But when he sees the item, he pauses, stopping in his tracks.

"Holy shit." TeeBo cuts his alarm off, and Shin takes a step toward you, reaching out to touch the very real and damaged thing that had set TeeBo off. Your arm lays by your side, almost broken, the control box flipped open and wires poking out of the communication compartment. It was basically a radio. Overall, you looked like hell. Your hair is unkempt, black smudges litter your face and torn clothes, and your arm looks almost completely severed.

"Hey." Shin snaps his fingers in front of your face, which seems to have gone dormant. "Hey, wake up." Your whole body begins to reawaken, and your eyes flutter slowly.

"What..."

"Your arm looks like it's in bad shape," Shin begins, eyeing the droid part carefully. "You're gonna need help with that."

"That'sssss... why I came to the... junkyard in the firssssst... place," you slur, lolling your head around to look at Shin. "To fi-th my arm."

"Damn," Shin breathes. "I can help you out if you need it, you know. Like... fix your arm."

"That would be great," you offer. "But you don't have any credentials, do you?"

"I'm an engineer," Shin chuckles. "I know how to fix anything."

"Okay, by anything... you couldn't have meant droid arms." Shin scrunches his brows together, attempting to solder a connection between the communication line and the central system.

"I'm trying here," he mutters. He glances over at you sitting on his bed, now all cleaned up and looking very... typical. If he looked at you from a certain angle, he wouldn't be able to see the amputated arm at all. Underneath all the grime, you looked like an ordinary girl he might pass on the street. But from what you told him, your life had been anything but ordinary.

A car crash at ten left you orphaned, without a right arm or any family to care for you. You'd been given a yearly replacement of the droid arm you would receive, but that didn't do much for you when it came to learning how to use it for school, play, or everyday life. And repairs for the arm were too costly.

"I just avoided using it. I mean, I couldn't even use it in gym class. It was an "unfair advantage." And I got kicked off the softball and basketball team as soon as things got rough."

Shin understood that. But what he couldn't wrap his head around was--

"How did you end up in the junkyard again?" Your eyes slide over to him, and your mouth opens to prepare your excuse: a drunken night gone wrong. But Shin puts his solder gun down, and you sigh.

"I got into brawling for cash," you grumble, looking away. Shin sighs, shaking his head. It's what cast-off robots and droids did to make money when things were too complicated. "Got my ass kicked pretty bad."

"Don't go back down there, y/n," Shin warns, turning his focus back to the arm. "There isn't anything good that crawls up from that cesspit."

"I crawled out of that cesspit," you joke.

"Yeah," Shin huffs. "And right into my lab to get fixed." Though, as he spends his third week trying to work on the item, he isn't so sure that it was a stroke of bad luck that brought you here to him.

No, he thinks, glancing over at you briefly. It's not a bad thing at all.

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Written for day one of @chaos-company's Angstpril 2022. Day one prompt: “I didn’t mean for this to happen."

Summary: Sersi feels like everything that's gone wrong is her fault. Thena is there to tell her it's not.

Sersi hasn’t cried since the battle with Ikaris.  

The Eternals – and family – have been staying on Ajak’s ranch for a week now after stopping Tiamut’s birth. It’s the only place they can keep the Domo active without anyone noticing while Phastos works on repairs. Ben and Jack were brought out because Phastos reluctantly decided to let his family meet his other family, and because he wanted to see them as soon as possible after almost losing them. Thena, Druig and Makkari remain and wait patiently for Phastos to finish repairs on the Domo so they can set off to the galaxy and search for the other Eternals. Sersi had joined last minute, as Sprite had wanted to be alone in their apartment for a while before leaving with Kingo, and Sersi had, as always, respected Sprite’s wishes.

The others are all secretly grateful for her joining them. They’ve missed her over the years, after all. But more than that, they want to keep an eye on her. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for all of them– an understatement – but they’ve all had their moments where they were able to just let go and grieve and feel. 

Druig and Makkari have gone on more than a few nightly walks together.  

Phastos sits with Ben on the front porch in the evenings, watching Jack running around trying to catch fireflies, talking in a low voice about everything and anything while Ben listens.

Thena copes in many small ways, from looking through the scrapbooks Ajak had stored away – collections of things meant to remind her of their lives – to simply spending time with the others when before she might have lingered on the outskirts, content to be by herself.  

Sersi hasn’t had any of that.  

Sersi hasn’t talked about anything. Sersi hasn’t done anything. Sersi hasn’t even cried.  

She pretends to be fine, is the thing. She smiles and partakes in conversations over dinner and she acts like she’s completely fine. As if she hadn’t been betrayed by the man she loved, lost him, lost Sprite, lost Ajak, had been forced to take over as leader, act against their mission as Eternals and kill a Celestial, all in under a week.  

As if they can’t see how strained her smiles are.  

Things don’t come to a head until they’ve been staying at Ajak’s for nine days after the failed emergence. Thena walks into the kitchen late at night, after everyone else has gone to bed, and what she finds first surprises her and then breaks her heart.

Sersi is sitting on the floor, crying and surrounded by fragments of a broken mug. She’s tucked herself in the corner between two of Ajak’s cabinets and buried her face into her knees, drawn up to her chest and her shoulders shaking as violent sobs wrack her whole body.  

Thena ignores the broken bits of mug crunching under her boots as she crosses the floor to get to Sersi. She remembers finding Sersi kneeling in front of Arishem’s statue on the Domo, on the verge of breaking down, and being able to pull her back to her feet. Back then, Sersi needed someone to help her stand up.

Thena kneels down next to Sersi and pulls the sobbing woman into her arms. Sersi doesn’t unfold herself, keeps her arms wrapped around herself rather than reciprocate the embrace, but she does rest her head against Thena’s shoulder. Thena feels tears seeping into her shirt. She doesn’t care.  

“Sersi,” she says, “It’s alright.”

“I broke Ajak’s mug,” Sersi cries. “I was just- it slipped and I couldn’t-” she breaks off as a new wave of tears come and sobs overtake her.  

“It’s just a mug,” Thena says. “Sersi, it’s alright. No harm done.”

Sersi shakes her head, a pained whine escaping her. Thena knows this is about more than a mug, but she doesn’t know how to ask. Comforting people has never come naturally to her. She’s always left that to the others, to Ajak or Gilgamesh or Sersi. They were the ones who always knew what to do, what to say to make things better. Thena knows how to break through fear, draw warriors back into the field, but she doesn’t know how to deal with what comes after.  

“It’s Ajak’s mug,” Sersi says finally. “It was hers and she’s dead and I’m supposed to be her and I can’t - I can’t even-” she stops and takes a few very loud, desperate breaths before dissolving into tears once more. Thena tightens her arms around her, pulls her even closer. She buries her face in Sersi’s hair and closes her eyes. She doesn’t press for Sersi to go on.  

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Sersi whispers, her voice cracking.  

“You didn’t do anything wrong."

Sersi shakes her head again. “I didn’t see Sprite was struggling – I didn’t see Ikaris wasn’t himself – I couldn’t decide. Everyone almost died because of me. The world’s broken because of me. I can’t- I can’t-” she chokes. “I can’t do anything right!”  

“Sersi, that is not true.”

“It is! If I had seen- if I had paid attention, if I had been better-”

“Sersi,” Thena says sharply. She pulls back and captures Sersi’s face in her hands, forcing her to lift her head. Her heart breaks again when she sees Sersi’s face, her eyes red and filled with tears running down her cheeks, already stained and streaked with previous tears, her lips parted slightly as she struggles to breathe around her sobs. She can’t remember the last time she saw Sersi like this, if she ever has – Sersi has always held herself together well, despite being the most emotional out of all of them. She’s never completely shattered like this. Thena doesn’t know what to do to help. She just has to try.  

“Sersi,” she says again, running her thumb across Sersi’s cheek, wiping away a few tears, “none of this is your fault.”

Sersi sucks in a shuddering breath. Out comes another violent sob.  

“It’s not your fault,” Thena says forcefully. “None of us noticed anything wrong with Ikaris. None of us noticed anything wrong with Sprite. We are all to blame for not seeing it, not just you.”

“Ajak chose me for a reason. I should have-”

“You had leadership sprung on you without warning. We all expected it to be Ikaris, even you. You weren’t prepared for it, and you shouldn’t have been expected to know what to do right away. I would have struggled with it too. Any of us would have.”

“But I- I couldn’t make a choice-”

“It was an impossible choice,” Thena says. “Choosing our mission and the greater good over the people of the planet you loved. You struggled and you fell but you got back up. You fought for what was right, and when it came down to it you were able to make a choice. You saved the world, Sersi. We are all alive because of you.”

She looks into Sersi’s eyes, her face set with determination, daring Sersi to tell her she’s wrong.

Sersi stares at her for several seconds, saying nothing. Then her face crumples and a fresh wave of tears spills down her cheeks. Thena is horrified, thinking she’s said something wrong, but Sersi collapses on top of her, sobbing uncontrollably into her shoulder and clinging to her as tightly as she can.  

Thena hugs her again, kissing Sersi’s forehead and combing her fingers through her hair. She doesn’t stop the motion, knowing Sersi has always found it soothing to have someone play with her hair. She doesn’t stop until Sersi cries herself to sleep, and Thena can’t bring herself to wake her up after all of that, so she picks Sersi up as gently as she can, holding her bridal style and carrying her into the living room. She deposits her gently onto the couch and pulls a spare blanket over her, and then goes back to the kitchen, finds a broom, and starts sweeping.  

When she’s done, instead of returning to her own room, she goes and sits in one of the armchairs by the couch. She watches Sersi sleep for a while, just to make sure she’s still sound asleep, before she leans back and closes her eyes. She doesn’t want Sersi to be alone when she wakes up.  

[lightcreators]

Introductions --- or casual communication --- with himself towards that particular landscape were only the tip of an iceberg he would dig bit by bit … Discovery needed to be an pleasant path, and most of all, consciousness concerning sleeping potential would have to be realized. It was after all what himself merited to receive, as supporting a boy having his name, his true name, could only be flattered to get clues about how behaving … knowing as much he could be forever alone inside the outside world, there would be someone watching over him, there would be someone that would want another kind of ending for him. Immediate nod showing up in front of his compliment, when for once, actual childish innocence flattered once more his features. Way of such brightness was something he was rediscovering at the moment, when it really had been a long time he didn't honestly experencied such a thing … not that he needed to know that, though. If he could exposing easily tirades in these metaphors, it comes from an accustomance. Other metaphors and comparaisons had been left behind for the moment, not orally expressed, but were always immensitly taken in consideration mentally. One word he will forcing himself not to exposing too much brutally at the moment --- as his own foundations remained fragile. ❝ As the lead actor in my play, I have to constantly have dramatics to offer. ❞ Maybe he should have say something else than it, as he wanted to adding something else, something more. ❝ Words have a power that is quite appreciable, and I like to impress a demanding audience. ❞ Neither how he wanted to respond normally upon how he gained such audition, and would transform an Shakespearean tragedy into an comedy !

❝ We are holding a mirror to their own darkness. ❞ He corrected quietly after an considering moment of listening to his words. ❝ We are not to blame if they were the ones with filth. We are not to blame if our presence awakening their obscurity. We are not to blame if be around us exposing how much obscurity their soul have. ❞ He insisted over it, as he preferred keep his words over that reflection thing for later. As, how he was questionning over their own darkness, he couldn't help to amusingly laugh as he was flattered. ❝ Is our darkness really a problem for anyone ? ❞ There was a real relaxation and pleasure in using this sentence as an unexpected weapon. ❝ Is our darkness caused harm to anyone who didn't merited it ? Is our darkness merit to be faced, when we had been eaten by it ? ❞ Some obscurity could swallowing him whole, and there was no reassurance he could offer. How his fragile glass could be fragmented again would be part of an trauma no one would ever be able to recover, and whatever effort would just ressurecting an initial broken vase … Oh, some people believed they could repair him. Foolishly. It was part of the cruetly. ❝ I have no wish to see the emptiness in our eyes again or admire our decline like an empty doll. ❞ On the second point, he had nothing to bring reassureance --- ❝ Maybe after burning the world, this fleeting feeling of anger will pass. Maybe. Perhaps the agonies of the underground trembling beneath my feet could eventually calm me down. Do not be quick to ask for darkness to welcome you as a temporary pillow. Do not be quick to ask for the day when this anger will be charitable to you, as single solace you have left in this world. ❞ Concerning the rest of his sentences, well .. someone will see beyond his darkness. Someone will be able to see beyond selfish intent, but there was always selfishness regardless offered gentleness associated to the gesture. ❝ Our lights can be recognized while leaving this path followed by a disappointed hope, desires too great, a confidence too fragile. It's not impossible, but I cannot claim that something is easy, that something will be easily obtained, that a return to the past is possible once appearance behind the appearance has been discovered. Our minds are too guarded. Even if it's our light is permitted, will the world let us show it ? ❞ With that, he would have confessed a big portion of experience without saying too much, brilliant !

Lack of reaction but gentle observation was presented as his mirroring self watched him. He was happy to had amused him with his musings. He was amused of circumstances. There was another nod, when at least, with himself, no need to show his relentless abilities as a heartless sadist with no particular compassion when he wanted to take advantage of the moment to have fun. Revealing how adorable he really could be was still something he had to get used to, as if he had gotten used to denying what he wanted to be. ❝ The fun never ends. ❞ He was an eternal malcontent who would never find the limit of sufficiency. ❝ I'd rather be the one running the game than be the one being played. ❞ He commented. ❝ It's a metaphor that nevertheless represents us. We tried to get out of the cocoon once, but hands forced us to go back in by force … and once in the open air, having become a butterfly, other hands wanted to tear off our wings, from which we fled. Many butterflies exist, but we can be of a particular kind. Those of tales and legends, filled with mysteries. Making the darkness our friends makes it possible to tame it, to stop being eternally devoured by it … and I'm not telling you anything new by how unfair the world has been. ❞ As his hands were taken within his mirror hands, there was another gentle smile. Nevertheless, there was no more reaction to be called Jim Macken. It was maybe the moment to just … just exposing one tiny detail … as totally uncanny it might be. ❝ Alois ☆ ❞ Speaking over the Trancy name would not bring an desired reaction, hence, immediatly, he had to insisting rather over that name. ❝ I would prefer you call me Alois. Am I not the Alois you could dream of becoming ? Am I not the Alois who rules the darkness and subjects the world to his whims ? Am I not the Alois who looks at greatness with mockery ? Have you ever wanted to completely dominate this terrifying darkness ? ❞ He expressed more quietly as he could, as slowly, he tapped his own nose playfully. ❝ You can find your own voice, your own strength and your own power in this darkness. No longer become the terrified one but the one who frightens. While being able to gain what we desire. With difficulty, with trials, but it is possible. This irony can be our strength. ❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Alois let out a chuckle, shaking his head at his own musings.

❛ You really do have a flair for the dramatics, don't you? Here you are, waxing poetic about shadows and invisibility like you're auditioning for a Shakespearean tragedy. ❜

He paused, considering his words. Alois laughed again, a bit more bitterly this time.

❛ Oh, those noble fools, thinking they're so above it all. They can't see their own filth, and one day, they'll have to scrub it off with their own hands. But even in their ignorance, they hold a mirror to our own darkness. We wait for the day they face their horrors, but what of our own? Will we ever confront the shadows within, or will we remain content in our righteous anger, our destructive rage? ❜

He smirked, his mind drifting to the idea of someone looking at him kindly.

❛ If someone did see us, they'd probably want something, right? But maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance they wouldn’t. Trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the harshness of reality. Yet, deep down, isn't there a sliver of hope? A hope that maybe, just maybe, someone could see beyond the darkness, beyond the shadows, and find the light within us? ❜

He opens his eyes again and look over at the mirror imaged of himself with a twinkle of amusement.

❛ But then again, isn't that the fun of it all? The unpredictability, the games we play? A caterpillar turning into a butterfly, wings broken but still flying. It's a bit poetic, don't you think? Maybe our rage and darkness really are our friends, giving us the strength to keep going. ❜

The earl gently grabs his mirror’s hand with a satisfied grin across his face.

❛ Oh, Jim Macken let us laugh at the bittersweet irony of it all. We are but shadows in a world that fears the dark. And yet, it is in the darkness that we find our strength, our voice, our power. ❜

[babymetaldoll]

As long as you are safe (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes: could i request a spencer x reader where she’s on the team and she ends up sacrificing herself for him and she gets hurt because of it. and can it end fluffy cause i don’t think i can take a non happy ending! 

Summary: People say “I would die for you” a lot, but never actually mean it. She never said it, but she was willing to take a bullet for Spencer Reid if she had to.   

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: This is my first angst request, so bear with me, ok? 

Masterlist 

.

Nothing had ever hurt so much. But it didn’t matter to (Y/N). Spencer was safe, that was all she cared about. 

- “Pressure dropping”- one paramedic warned and kept checking (Y/N)’s vitals- Stay with me- he looked at her right into the eyes- I need you to stay awake, ok?

- “She’s hypoventilating”- someone else warned 

- “Come on (Y/L/N)”- Morgan held her hand as he rode with her to the hospital- “Come on pretty girl, hold on”. 

- “She has to be taken to the ER now!”

Derek was sent with her in that ambulance, Reid wanted to go instead, but he was a nervous wreck, he was no help at all. No one had ever seen him lose it before, not the way he had when he saw (Y/N) bleeding next to him. 

It all happened too quickly. And it felt it was all his fault. 

He could see the moment she got shot, repeating in his mind, over and over again, the whole drive to the hospital: The unsub was right in front of him, he was sure their job was done. Derek was already handcuffing him when Reid felt (Y/N) jump on him and push him to the ground at the sound of a gunshot. 

Spencer shook his head and tried to wipe off the tears from his cheeks, as the image of that specific fragment of his life kept coming back. But the tears kept falling, and he couldn’t stop sobbing. 

He should have seen it. He should have foresighted the idea of a second unsub, an accomplice… it was now too clear, but also, it was now too late. 

Reid quickly grabbed his gun and shot the killer right in the middle of the forehead. But he didn’t care about him that second, he did it out of instinct, all he could think about was (Y/N). He quickly crawled by her side and started yelling for a doctor. 

- “I’m ok silly”- she whispered and tried to calm him down. She was lying, and he knew it. It was frustrating how even bleeding on the floor, she would always try to make him feel better. 

- “Shhh, come on, stay with me, stay with me, (Y/N)”- Spencer was trying to keep her awake, but it wasn’t working, (Y/N) was bleeding out too fast, even when Reid kept pushing his hands against the wound on her chest. 

- “You are ok, that’s what matters”- she whispered and made her best to smile, but she couldn’t, her eyes shut, and Spencer lost it. 

- “No! no! no! no! (Y/N)!! (Y/N)!!”

Medics took her from the ground and onto the ambulance, as Derek held Spencer back. He was sobbing and yelling, no one had ever seen him like that. He blamed himself and if anything happened to (Y/N), he was never going to forgive himself. He couldn’t pull himself together for a second.

That’s why Hotch took him to the SUV and asked Morgan to go with (Y/N). Reid yelled and argued, he didn’t want to leave her side, but he was forced to. It felt it was a movie, it was… wrong, everything was wrong. An hour ago they were laughing in the same car he was now sitting in. And now… now he might never see her again. Now the last thing he had said to her was “Stay with me”, and if she didn’t, Spencer didn’t know how he was going to survive.

Reid loved (Y/N) more than he actually loved himself. But never said a word about his feelings. He was sure she knew and didn’t reciprocate them, so he settled for best friends, and that was ok, he was happy that way. But now, suddenly it hit him: she might die, and he might have never told her how he really felt. If he did, he might even get a chance to be happy, and he had been wasting his time, all because he was afraid. (Y/N) wasn’t afraid when she jumped to save him, even if that meant getting shot. Why should he be scared? why was he allowing himself to be so afraid? 

.

- “Spence, listen to me”- JJ tried to talk to him, but he was lost in thoughts, standing in the hall of the hospital, waiting for any news from (Y/N). His friend stood in front of him and rubbed her hands on his arms, trying to comfort him, but all she managed was to make him flinch. He wasn’t good with physical contact, everybody knew that, but after all those years, you could think he was going to be able to be comfortable with his friends. Apparently, he wasn’t. Or maybe, it just wasn’t the right time.  

- “You should get some rest”- he shook his head and kept looking at the door, waiting for a doctor, anyone that might tell him (Y/N) was ok, that it was nothing, just a scratch, that she was going to be ok in a day or two. 

- “Reid, you have to rest, there's nothing you can do standing here”- JJ insisted, but the look in Spencer’s eyes was a dagger. She knew he could be cruel when hurt, and maybe it was better to let him alone for a moment. Penelope walked over and gave him a cup of coffee. She didn’t say a word, just smiled and saw him thank her with his eyes. JJ nodded and walked back to the waiting room with the rest of the team. 

(Y/N) didn’t see her whole life pass flash before her eyes. She just remembered a loop of her favorite moments with Reid ‘cos that was what she wanted to hold onto. She knew what she had done, and she knew she could die. But she didn’t care. She honestly didn’t care, as long as he was ok. That was how much she loved him, and she was hoping if she died, he could understand it. 

People say “I would die for you” a lot, but never actually mean it. She never said it, but she was willing to take a bullet for him if she had to.  

Rossi looked at Hotch sitting next to him, and he could read it on his friend’s face there was something he was hiding, maybe not to worry the team even more. If possible. 

- “What aren’t you saying?”- he asked and watched the team leader close his eyes. In that job, you get used to pain, but nothing prepares you for these kinds of situations. 

- “I spoke with one of the paramedics that brought her in, it doesn’t look good” 

Waiting was agony. Emily kept walking around the room, trying to keep herself busy just moving. Morgan, JJ, and Penelope sat together, in silence. They were repeating in their heads over and over again everything was going to be ok, that (Y/N) was tough. She was, but… they all knew it was a hard thing to recover. 

.

After four hours in surgery, a doctor walked out. Spencer nearly jumped and looked at him, hoping he was there to give him some good news. 

- “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

- “Yes!”- the whole team walked over quickly. All of them looking weary after a whole night awake. 

- “The bullet went in her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen… it was hard, she lost a lot of blood, and we almost lost her, but we were able to repair the injuries”. 

- “Is she going to be ok or not?”- Spencer snapped at the doctor, and Derek quickly put a hand on his shoulder, to calm him down. 

- “One centimeter over and it would have torn right through her heart”- Spencer wasn’t breathing- “But happily, she is going to be ok, and she will be able to leave in a couple of days”

The way Spencer sighed relieved could never be described. He felt the weight of all the books in the world had been taken off his chest. 

- “When can I see, I mean, when can we see her?”- Reid asked and reformulated his question not to look as desperate as everybody knew he was.  

- “She needs to rest, you can see her in the morning…” 

- “Is there any chance I can stay with her tonight?”- he asked and the doctor looked at him confused- “I think someone must be here when she wakes up”

- “Are you family?”- she felt like family, but technically, he wasn’t. The doctor sighed and nodded- There’s nothing comfortable to sleep on in the ICU

- “I don’t care, I’m not gonna sleep”. 

The team hugged Spencer on their way out and promised to come back early morning. Then, he walked into (Y/N)’s room, and tears blurred his vision. She was pale, asleep, looking dead. His jaw tightened as he stood next to her. He was afraid to touch her, afraid he could hurt her, so he just ran his thumb on her hand and bit his lips, trying not to make a sound. 

- “I’m so sorry”- he whispered and just stood there, looking at her for a few minutes. He knew it was a miracle that she was still there with him, and he wasn’t going to waste any more time. He wanted to share his life with her. 

.

When (Y/N) woke up, in the most excruciating pain she had ever felt, the first thing she saw was Spencer’s messy hair resting by her side on the bed. He was sitting on a tiny chair - that looked incredibly uncomfortable- and he had fallen asleep with his head on the bed. She smiled - even that hurt a little- and made his best to move slowly her hand to him and run her fingers through his hair. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, confused, and looked at her. 

- “(Y/N)”- he whispered and she nodded

- “Still me, yes”- talking hurt too, so she just whispered and made her best to hide the pain. 

Spencer couldn’t talk. He had no idea what to say. He had thought all night of all the things he wanted to tell her, but at that minute, it was too much, everything was too much. His eyes filled with happy tears and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. 

- “I thought I had lost you”- he managed to murmur, even when his chin quivered and his voice cracked- “I thought I was never going to see you again” 

- “You are not getting rid of me so easily”- she whispered and sighed

- “Are you ok?”

- “Yeah… don’t worry... “- Reid stayed close to her and tucked a flick of hair behind her ear.  They just stared. No one had ever been so glad to see each other ever before.      

- “When I was in the ambulance”- (Y/N) broke the silence and held Spencer’s hand tight, feeling him caressing carefully her fingers- “I kept flashing in and out of consciousness, everything was so bright around me… and I remember thinking it didn’t matter what happened to me, as long as you were ok”   

Spencer shook his head, crying, and leaned in to kiss her forehead again. He had never done it until that day, and he couldn’t stop now. He just wanted to kiss her, forever. 

- “You shouldn’t have done it”

- “I wanted to do it…”- she made a pause and closed her eyes. When you defeat death, you start taking chances, I guess- “I wanted to do it because I love you, Spencer, and I couldn’t stand the idea of you being hurt”

Reid had no idea what to do. He just looked at her in adoration and sighed. She loved him. Of course, she loved him, she had taken a bullet for him. He could be happy with her, he had a chance to make it right. He had a second chance to make her happy. 

- “You shouldn’t have done that, because I love you too much to live without you”- Spencer said and moved a little closer, resting his forehead on her, closing his eyes. She sighed and did the same, holding tight onto his hand 

- “I love you, Spencer” 

- “I love you too”- he smiled and whispered- “I love you so much, and I am going to say it to you every day until we die... if you have me”

He looked at her and kissed her lips sweetly, slowly... carefully, still afraid to hurt her.

- “Then, you will have to hear me saying “I love you too every day””- (Y/N) smiled and kissed him again. She never imagined it took a bullet to finally make her confess her feelings. But it had been worthy.   

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if... Part2

(Amazed and honoured at the reception of this one! So very happy y’all enjoyed this little AU that I was NOT going to write xD And thank you for the reblogs and comments, you wonderful people you! <3

 For the record, I still blame you @phrenic-a and @mountevey And I see you encouraging them @novembermurray ! )

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if...

Part 1

Part 2

She’s lost her mind. Dulsissa has thought this very thought many times during these last three months, but stars above; she really must have lost her mind now.

The Mandalorian, Davarax, is a complete stranger. She doesn’t know anything about him, only some fragments about his children that she has a feeling are real but might as well not be. And here she is holding her son’s hand and following this man to his ship, fully prepared to board it with him and go some place she has no idea where is to stay with a people she has no clue who are.

“This is your ship?” Corin asks with slight disbelief when they come to a halt in front of it.

Like Davarax’ armor, the ship has seen better days.

Embarrassed by her son’s words, Dulsissia gives Corin’s hand a warning squeeze and sends him a stern look that makes him shrink a little and shuffle his feet.

-Think it, don’t speak it, she’s told him countless times. His honesty will cost him one day.

Davarax snorts an amused laugh, saunters forward to reach out and place an affectionate hand to the ship’s hull. He pets it a couple of times like it’s a living creature. “She might not be the fanciest, but..” The helmet turns to look back at Corin. “I can promise you, Corin, you won’t find a better ship in the Galaxy. The Razor Crest is tough, fast and loyal. Treat her right and she’ll look after you.”

The disdain in Corin’s eyes is replaced with awe. “Really?” He whispers.

“Really.” Davarax confirms, giving the ship a final pat before lowering his arm to press a button on his vambrace. There is a click and a hum and the ship opens a side door, lowering a ramp for them to enter. “Let’s go.”

Dulsissia smiles a little as she follows Davarax inside and how Corin now is pulling eagerly at her hand to make her hurry up. A magical ship is irresistible to a little boy, while she tries hard to ignore the scorch marks she sees on the hull and the ominous weapons attached to it.

Inside, the ship is a lot roomier than she expected it to be. The cargo area makes for a great playground for Corin. The sleeping quarters are narrow, but she doesn’t require much space and Corin even less so. The cockpit is fascinating, she’s never been in one before.

And neither has Corin.

“Baby, no.” Dulsissia reaches out to pull Corin away when he walks right up to the control panel after Davarax has found his place in the pilot seat and watches with utmost amazement as he starts flipping switches and pushing buttons to bring the ship to life. “Come here. Don’t bother Davarax.”

“It’s okay.” Davarax reassures her. He glances over at the boy. “You want to help, young sir?”

Corin nods, too overwhelmed to talk.

“Flip that one.” Davarax points at a tiny switch and Corin instantly reaches out and flips it. “Good job. And now press that button.” He lifts the boy up so he can reach the button in the ceiling.

Dulsissia bites her lower lip to keep from getting too emotional as she watches her son eagerly obey instructions and soaking up every bit of encouragement and praise from the Mandalorian, starved for both after all the years his father gave him none. It hurts to watch how such simple kindness from a man stuns Corin but it is also so good to see her son this happy. Maybe she didn’t lose her mind when she decided to go with Darvarax, maybe it was the one good choice she’s made since deciding to leave Macero? She hopes.

“Okay, ad’ika.” Davarax says. “The Razor Crest is awake. Time for you to get in your seat.” He nudges Corin, who reluctantly wanders over to the one seat left after his mother claimed the one behind Davarax. He climbs, with a little difficulty, up on it, and settles. A tiny boy in a big seat.

Dulsissia moves over to buckle him in and frowns. He’s too small. It won’t keep him safe at all.

Without looking over at them, Davarax makes some final adjustments on his panel. “Next to the seat. On the left. There’s this box he can sit on. I use that when I bring Din or Barthor along.”

Dulsissia blinks. It’s not something she’d picture a mercenary to have on his ship. But a peek down the side does indeed reveal a box and once Corin is sitting on that, he gets a better view, to his delight, and the belts actually fit him instead of choking him, to her relief.

The ship takes off and sets course for the darkness above. Dulsissia is not sorry to leave this place.

Now all she has to worry about is what Nevarro is like and how the Mandalorians will react to Davarax bringing home a stray and her offspring. She wonders if the other Mandalorians are like Davarax, if she will get to meet his children and most important of all; will Corin like it there?

-

The journey to Nevarro will take two standard days. It’s strange how two days on a small ship with her husband or her friends would have driven her insane, but the hours on board the Razor Crest feel safe and almost enjoyable as Davarax’ patience with her son’s continued craving for his attention and praise.

Every time her boy butts into whatever the Mandalorian is doing, calls for him to look at what he is doing instead, Dulsissia feels a stab of dread, waiting to hear the sharp annoyance that would always follow his attempts to reach his father, but every time Davarax replies with mild amusement and eternal patience. He even brings Corin along to ‘help’ with some repairs in the cargo area and leaves her to just rest or whatever she feels like doing.

With there being no place for the man to run off with her child, it’s not like he’ll jump into space with him, and a growing trust in Davarax, Dulsissia ends up sitting in the cockpit like an idiot and having no clue what to do. It’s been almost five years since she didn’t spend every second of her day hovering over Corin.

After what feels like a small eternity of just sitting there, listening to the muffled voices from the cargo hold, Dulsissia notices her reflection in the transparisteel and slowly lifts a hand to her blond locks. Oh, she looks a mess. No wonder Davarax had decided she needed help; she looks like a wookiee.

When Davarax and Corin returns to the cockpit, she has eased the final hairpin into place and her sweet boy lights up at the sight of her. He runs over, places his hands on her knees and looks up at her with a smile so bright it makes her smile as well. “Wow. You look really pretty, mommy.”

Davarax ruffles Corin’s hair as he walks by him on the way to the pilot seat. “She always does, ad’ika.”

Her face burns for some reason. Dulsissia pulls Corin up to sit on her lap and she changes the topic. “What does that mean? You keep calling him that.”

“It’s from my language. Mando’a.” Davarax replies, fidgeting with something on the panel to see if the repairs were successful. “It’s what we call our youngsters.”

Smiling, oddly pleased with the answer, Dulsissia looks down and sees Corin has gotten oil on his face and starts the battle of wiping it away while he tries to squirm free.

It’s not just Corin who gets to learn new things. On the second day, while her boy sleeps, Dulsissia takes out the blade Davarax had given her and tests the weight and feel of it. Wearing a dress restricts the movement of her legs a bit, so she’ll need to have a good idea of how to use her arms. Make the most of what she can use.

She feels stupid, waving the blade around, pretending to stab an invisible opponent, but Dulsissia gets so into it that she’s entirely unprepared for a hand suddenly gripping her wrist.

Startled, she flinches and almost drops the knife.

“Not like that.” Davarax’ voice says from behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach.

His gloved hand slides over her pale one and helps her turn the blade so she holds it in a reverse grip instead.

“Like this. It will give you more options during an attack and more power. More power to do more damage. Plus,” Davarax steps closer and slides his other arm loosely around her waist in a slight mimicry of how those men had grabbed her, “you can do this.”

The hand on hers adds a little pressure and makes her lower her arm in a careful swing until the blade goes by her thigh and the tip comes to a halt against the front of his thigh.

“And when the blade is in, you twist.” His voice is so calm. And so close. If not for the helmet, she suspects she’d feel his words on her neck. “Understand?”

Dulsissia gives a quick little nod. Her eyes probably as big as Corin’s tend to get around this man.

“Good.” Davarax lets her go and circles to stand in front of her. “Now, if someone approaches you from the front, what you should do is-”

She still feels silly, waving the blade around and Davarax letting her practice on him when he could disarm her without even looking her way, but at the end of that first session; Dulsissia knows where to aim and how to do as much damage as possible.

Also, when the Mandalorian hands out praise, she can’t blame her son for wanting more because she realizes that she hasn’t heard too much of that in her own lifetime either and it feels really, really good to finally think she’s not hopeless at least.

-

When they land on Nevarro, Dulsissia can’t help but to feel nervous again. She picks up Corin, who allows it with a resigned sigh, and holds him close while following Davarax off the ship. The journey has been another respite before facing her difficult situation, but it’s over now.

Time to find out what will be next for her and her baby.

Davarax leads her through the dusty city, Dulsissia places a protective hand on Corin’s head and shields him from seeing leers and sneers sent their way, and they finally reach a door that brings them underground to the hidden Covert of the Mandalorians.

It’s dark below and it takes a while for Dulsissia’s eyes to adjust so she doesn’t see them until she’s walking right by the other Mandalorians, who stand there, staring at her with emotionless t-visors.

Flinching with a startled sound, she jumps forward and nearly bumps into Davarax’ back.

“They won’t harm you.” Davarax says, not turning around or even slowing his walk. “You’re safe.”

Looking around as they walk, Dulsissia hopes he is right, because there are quite an amount of armored people there and they aren’t exactly rolling out a welcoming committee. “If you say so.”

In the depths of the tunnels, they approach what appears to be the seat of power, judging by the decorations and respectful behaviour of the ones there.

They have taken one step inside the room, it appears to some kind of a forge, when Davarax stops and Dulsissia follows his example. “Stay here.” He says. “Only speak when spoken to.”

She then watches in silence as he steps forward and walks over to kneel down in front of the forge where a Mandalorian in a golden armor and a fur cloak is working on something. Minutes pass and Dulsissia has to hoist Corin a couple of times as the boy really is getting heavy, but they all wait for what has to be the leader of the Mandalorians to finish whatever they are working on.

Finally the one in the golden helmet puts the hammer down, lingers and walks over to where Davarax is kneeling. “Did you complete your mission?”

Davarax reaches into the pocket of his belt, fishes out a handful of valuables and places them on the ground as an offering.

The leader looks at what he has brought, gives a thoughtful nod and then shifts her attention to Dulsissia. “And you have brought something else to the Covert as well.”

“They need a place to stay. Somewhere safe.”

“A foundling is always welcome.” The leader replies in a neutral voice. “This other one does not look like a warrior.”

“She has the makings of one.” Davarax counters in an equally neutral voice. “She will be my responsibility. Both of them.”

“Very well.” The leader says, but she does not sound pleased. “This is the way.”

“This is the way.” Davarax echoes. He gets up and walks out of the room, only pausing to give Dulsissia’s arm a light touch to signal her to follow him. She does.

Once they are at a certain distance from the room and the leader, Dulsissia hoists Corin, who she suspects is too scared by these new surroundings to say anything, and voices her thoughts. “She doesn’t want me here.”

Davarax does his little trademark huff of a laugh. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dulsissia sighs and hoists Corin a little again. Her arms are burning. She does not expect Davarax to come to an abrupt halt, forcing her to stop as well, and turn around to hold out his arms.

“Give him to me.”

Dulsissia clutches Corin a little closer and stares at him with surprise at his betrayal.

His helmet tilts a little and Davarax is the one to sigh. “Just until I can show you your room.”

She hesitates for several seconds. What convinces her is Corin pushing away from her and reaching out to him, and only then does Dulsissia hand her son over to the Mandalorian and awkwardly wraps her arms around herself instead.

Corin quickly settles on Davarax’ arm and looks around with bright, curious eyes from his new and taller perch.

The Mandalorian reaches out his free hand and gently touches by her shoulder. “Come.” He says, not unkindly. “Let me show you where you’ll stay.”

-

The door slides open. Stepping inside, Davarax following her with Corin, Dulsissia looks around and finds it small and modest but far cleaner and inviting than some of the inns she and her son have stayed at during these last weeks. There are no windows, but there is a light in the ceiling.

There are two beds, a rickety looking table and some hooks in the wall to hang clothing on.

“It’s not much, I know.” Davarax sounds a bit awkward. “But it will be yours.” Dulsissia looks over at him with a grateful smile. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Davarax turns sideways and points at the door they can see across the hallway. “That’s me. If you need anything.” He puts Corin down on his own two feet and lets him run over to climb into the closest bed and start jumping on it.

“Corin, baby, no.” Dulsissia says, meeting the defiant look he sends her way with a stern look of her own and feels a smug sense of victory when the boy sits down with an annoyed huff. She can then turn her attention back to Davarax. “You have done so much for us already. How can I ever repay you?”

He seems surprised by her words and it takes a second before he shakes his head. “There is nothing to repay. You don’t owe me anything. Neither does your boy. I just want you two to be safe.”

Dulsissia has to turn away to hide her eyes flooding with tears. She’d given up on there being decent people in the Galaxy and then she had to stumble across the most noble of them all?

“I’ll, uh, give you some time to settle in. Get some rest.” Davarax mumbles, backing out of the room. “I’ll be back later. I’ll see if I can get you some spare clothes. I know there are some for Corin. And then I’ll show you two around. Sounds good?”

“Will you show me the training room?” Corin asks with badly hidden hope.

“Absolutely, young sir.” Davarax replies with a bow that has Corin giggle with delight.

When the door slides shut behind the Mandalorian, Dulsissia walks over to sit next to her sweet boy and combs her fingers through his thick, dark hair. “We are going to stay here for a while, baby. Okay?”

Corin nods eagerly and gives her another gap-toothed smile. “Yeah! Dav’rax gonna show me where he trains to fight bad guys. Maybe he can teach me too?”

“We’ll see.” Dulsissia replies, unwilling to make any promises on behalf of the man. While she’d prefer her son to never see battle in his lifetime, she’s not stupid. Once she chose to leave Seswenna, she condemned them both to an existence where they both will have to learn to defend themselves.

She and Corin explore the room, discover there is a barely visible door on the western wall that leads to what has to be the Galaxy’s tiniest refresher room, and they play-fight over who gets which bed, but in the end there isn’t all that much to do but wait for Davarax to return.

When there finally is a knock on the door, both Dulsissia and Corin eagerly jump to their feet and is equally pleased to see the now almost familiar Mandalorian. Dulsissia is fairly certain she’d be able to recognize his helmet and armor in a sea of others at this point.

Davarax holds out a small pile of clothes. “This will at least give you something to change into.”

Accepting the gift, Dulsissia manages another smile, despite once again feeling the bite of humiliation. She thinks about the gorgeous dresses she used to wear. The adorable outfits she had made for Corin. She’ll probably be the first Motti to ever use second-hand clothing… Then she snaps out of it and clutches the clothes close with a sense of appreciation instead. “Thank you.”

“And you, ad’ika, are you ready to check out your new home?” Davarax asks Corin.

“Yes, sir!” Corin replies, back straight and eagerness barely contained.

The Covert, as she understands it is called, is a complicated network of hallways and tunnels. It used to be the old sewers of Neverro, Davarax explains and Dulsissia tries not to shudder. At least Macero won’t think to look for them here.

The other Mandalorians are still staring quietly at her, but the ones Davarax introduces her to give her a polite nod at least. They don’t seem hostile, but they aren’t exactly brimming with hospitality either. Dulsissia suspects that maybe they don’t get too many visitors in their underground home.

She minds her manners, tries to not offend anyone and considering that none of them draw their frankly intimidating blasters says she might not be doing the worst job of it. Dulsissia used to be so very good at socializing. She was the queen of all the balls back on Seswenna. Now she’s only hoping not to offend.

“And I saved the best for last.” Davarax says with the excitement she usually hears from her son. He stops by a door, turns to face her and lets his hand over over the button to open. “My kids.”

Dulsissia has just enough time to feel both surprise and nervousness and then the door slides open.

-

Lined up in a neat row, clearly having been given firm instructions to be followed when Davarax brought her and her son, four children stand in the middle of what looks like a training room and stare at the new arrivals.

The one of the left has to be Paz. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was sixteen, not eleven. He’s a lot taller than the others, but lacks the lankiness that would usually follow such an early height growth. He has the powerful bones to carry the height, but a child’s face. Paz’ dark hair is cut entirely short except for the unruly spikes on top, his mouth is a thin, disapproving line and his big hands are clenched. Next to him, barely reaching his team-mate’s shoulder, is the one that has to be Barthor. He has curly, dark hair that is getting a bit long, scarecrow shoulders and sharp eyes that are locked on Dulsissia like he’s seeing her with a crosshair on her forehead. Next to him is definitely Raga. Like Barthor, she’s small and skinny, but she has the most amazing hair Dulsissia has ever seen. It is a wild mess, but the volume and the curls are stunning. Too bad the glare behind the mane warns her that she’ll get her fingers bit off if she so much as tries to touch it. And then, half hidden behind Raga, is the one Davarax keeps referring to as ‘little Din’. He’s not especially small for his age, but he appears to be a lot more timid than the others. He is very cute, though, with silky dark hair and soulful eyes.

Davarax walks over and starts introducing each child. Dulsissia is pleased to hear she’s guessed right about their identities and gives a brief curtsy. “Pleased to meet you. I am Dulsissia.”

Silence.

Davarax reaches out and pokes a finger at Paz’ head. “Hey.”

Paz’ nose twitches, like a hound about to bare its teeth, then he reluctantly steps forward until he stands in front of her and he reaches out a hand. “I’m honoured to meet you.”

Trying to hold back an amused smile and failing to a certain degree, Dulsissia takes his hand and he shakes hers with a stern look on his little face, trying so hard to act like an adult. She has to stop herself from hugging him. It’s so cute.

Barthor gives her a nod, which is good enough for her but gets an annoyed sigh from Davarax. Raga moves forward, Din following her like a tail, and she seems more interested in something behind Dulsissia.

What… Oh. Right.

Dulsissia reaches back and ushers Corin out from his hiding place. “This is Corin. Say hello Corin.”

“Hello.” He says in a tiny voice, looking from one to the other and probably feeling like prey. She doesn’t blame him. He hasn’t really played with other children before. Macero didn’t think it would be good for him to mix with others. And these ones are already being trained to be warriors.

Paz frowns and crossed his arms. “Are you going to take the Creed?”

Corin blinks. “I…”

“They are going to stay with us. That’s all you need to focus on, Paz.” Davarax replies.

“Is he going to train with us?” Barthor asks, his eyes still too sharp for someone so young.

“We haven’t decided that yet.” Davarax says and glances over at Dulsissia.

“He should play with us.” Raga says, her lip curling in something that could be a smile but is mostly a flash of teeth. When Corin shuffles to partially hide behind Dulsissia’s leg, Raga doesn’t move but her eyes move with him.

“He is going to play with you.” Davarax says and stalks forward until he’s standing next to Raga, towering over her. “And you’re all going to be nice to him. Understand?”

The girl scowls up at him. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re not.” Barthor scoffs.

Raga’s mess of a hair bounces as she snaps her gaze over at him and he shuffles over to partially hide behind the still stern-looking Paz.

“She’s going to be nice to my son,” Dulsissia says, her voice sweet and her eyes not, “because he has a mother who will have words with everyone who isn’t nice to him.”

Raga shifts her scowl over to Dulsissia, scans her, scowls harder, but when Dulsissia doesn’t give her an inch, she sighs and her little body relaxes. “Fiiiiine.”

And while all of this is happening, little Din silently watches Corin from his hiding place and Corin curiously looks back at him from his.

-

“I told them to behave.” Davarax grouses as he’s bringing her to where she can find food for herself and Corin.

Laughing, Dulsissia glances down at where her son is walking next to her, holding on to her hand and looking around with curiosity, not fear. “I think it went well.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Davarax sighs and there is actual sadness to the sound. “The others call them lost causes. Troublemakers. I know they are difficult, that their manners aren’t like Corin’s, but.. They are good kids. They really are. I wanted you to see that.”

Dulsissia reaches out and places her hand on his upper arm where there is no armor. And she speaks the truth. “I did see that.”

Davarax comes to an abrupt halt, she does the same, and despite the t-visor she can feel the look of surprise on his face.

“You… did?” There is a fragile hope in his voice that doesn’t match his rough exterior.

Dulsissia nods and smiles. “It’s like you said, Paz watches over the others like they were ‘his’ children. He did not hesitate to protect Barthor from Raga. Barthor, who would not let Raga lie and trick my son. Raga, who didn’t care that my son was an outsider and just saw him as someone to play with. And sweet little Din who despite his fear wanted so much to say hello. I think he and Corin will get along so well. And…” She hesitates, looks down at her son but finds him distracted by staring at something down the hallway and has no excuse not to say what else she saw. Dulsissia looks back up at Davarax, who is waiting for her to finish. “And I saw just how much those children love you.”

Davarax stares at her.

“You are the world, the entire Galaxy to them.” Dulsissia says, remembering the look of pure adoration and love in their eyes as he mildly chastised them for acting like tree monkeys in front of their visitors. She doubts he understands how important his role is to these children. How their happiness hangs on his words. How they will do anything for his approval. “My parents ruled our house with an iron fist. But these children? They don’t obey you because they have to or because they fear you. They do it because they love you. Because you see them.”

He shivers and the only reason she knows is because her hand is still on his arm.

“Dulcy, I…” Davarax reaches up and covers her hand with his.

“I know bad men, Davarax. I know monsters pretending to be men. But you?” Dulsissia looks over at how his hand is holding on to hers, so gently despite the strength she knows he must be capable of. “You are a good man. You are the kind of man I wish Corin had for a father.”

Davarax takes a step closer, is suddenly very close and the muscles in his arm tighten under her palm. “Is he the one you are running from?”

Dulsissia tenses up and looks down at her son. Corin is still caught up in whatever he’s staring at.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Davarax says ever so softly. “I just want to help you.”

“I know.” Dulsissia whispers. She doesn’t want to say Macero’s name. It’s stupid, but she fears if she does; it might summon him. “That is what makes you a good man.”

A light touch to her chin and Davarax’ other hand lifts her face to look up at him and there is a slight smile in his voice when he speaks. “I’m not ‘that’ good.”

Dulsissia giggles. She hasn’t giggled in years. And her face flushes.

“I’m hungry.” Corin declares.

Davarax jumps back a step and Dulsissia jumps in place and they both look down at the little boy like guilty teenagers.

“I-I’m sorry, baby. We’ll get you something to eat now.” Dulsissia stammers, her face heating up even more.

“Food. Yes. This way.” Davarax clears his throat and gestures for them to follow him.

They enter the room where food is stored, Davarax shows them where the fires are so she can cook if she feels like it and basically where all the other necessities of the Covert are.

By the time the tour comes to an end by the door to their room, Corin is exhausted and Dulsissia knows she won’t struggle finding sleep either. Still, she’s almost a little reluctant to part ways with Davarax when he pauses outside their door.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” She asks.

“I was hoping that you might want to bring Corin by training.” Davarax says. “He can observe for a while. Maybe try some exercises. Training is the best way for the children to burn off their energy and learn skills as the city above is not safe for them.”

Dulsissia nods. “I will bring him.” She hesitates, knowing he must be tired of hearing her say it but still has to; “Thank you.”

Davarax shakes his head, reaches out and gingerly tucks a golden lock behind her ear. “No thanks required.” He backs up a step, nods and spins around to march over to his door. He keeps pressing the button to his room so the door opens and shuts twice before he can actually get inside.

Late at night, curled up on her side in her bed, looking over at the barely visible silhouette of her son’s back in the other bed, Dulsissia knows she made the best decision ever by coming here.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter I

A/n: This series is inspired by my oneshots, "Mythological Mayhem," (Can be found on my Wattpad) which is also why it will have the same name. You won't be able to choose your eye color in this series since they'll correspond with what gem/mineral each book represents. I hope you all enjoy! Love you all!!! •••••••••••••••••••••

"You can't keep me hidden forever, Prompto."

(Y/n)'s words rang inside Prompto's head as he stared up at the dark ceiling of the caravan. It had been only two days since he, Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis left Insomnia to head to Altissia for the prince's marriage to the Oracle. They were currently resting in Hammerhead, waiting for the Regalia to be repaired so they could head to Galdin Quay.

Lifting his arm, Prompto stared at the bracelet located on his right wrist. In the center stood a lone golden fragment that resembled a gemstone. Even in the darkness, a faint light radiated from it. With his left hand, he traced his index finger over the golden fragment as he continued to listen to (Y/n)'s words on repeat.

He couldn't sleep, wishing to see the girl he had come to cherish so deeply after the many years they'd spent together. The (h/c)-haired guardian has been with him ever since he could recall his earliest memories of his life. He could feel his strong, unwavering bond with (Y/n) and couldn't help but smile.

Prompto, to (Y/n)'s dismay, had kept her a secret their entire lives. No one except for him knew of her existence, not even his adoptive family or Noctis. Although she was residing in the gemstone whenever he left to go anywhere with his friends, he was saddened because she wasn't physically with him. He couldn't bear to be apart from her, not even for a simple stroll.

These past two days have been torture since he didn't wish to reveal the guardian to his companions. It wasn't because he didn't trust them, but he didn't want to be bombarded by tons of questions he wouldn't have the answers to or for (Y/n) to feel like an outcast.

A few minutes passed and Prompto debated whether to leave the caravan for a little while to see (Y/n). Unfortunately, he didn't realize what time it was until he saw Ignis was gone. The advisor was always the first to wake, his ebony coffee being the main reason why he was able to rise at such early hours of the morning and trudge through the day with no signs of exhaustion. He truly desires to have the stamina Ignis possessed after drinking a single cup of coffee.

Prompto lowered his arm with a sigh, nestling his head back into the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to get a few more minutes of sleep, but his bustling mind kept him from finding peace.

With a groan, he dragged his body out of bed and grabbed his camera. He left the caravan and greeted Ignis before making up an excuse so he could get some alone time with (Y/n) without him or the others seeing her. He told the tactician how he wanted to take a few pictures of the rising sun and quickly excused himself to find a secluded location.

The moment Ignis turned his back, Prompto made a mad dash toward the garage. He headed around the side and took cover behind the garage. Looking around, the blonde made sure the coast was clear before summoning (Y/n). He whispered her name, the gold gemstone located on his bracelet pulsating with a warm glow.

Once the gemstone's radiance disappeared, a girl with (h/c) locks and gold-slitted eyes appeared in front of him. She combed a few stray locks out of her face and behind her ear with a sigh. "You know this would be easier if the others knew about me, Prom. I could also help you guys fight. And that gemstone is rather uncomfortable..."

"The guys would freak out if they saw your, y'know...real form!" Prompto argued. "I mean, I haven't even seen it yet! I've only read about the possibilities..."

(Y/n) sighed, crossing her arms. "If you're afraid of them attacking me, explain to them what I am! I'm sure they know about spirits. All humans should! We're not fictional characters in a fairytale. There's actual texts that explain who and what we are. If we continue to hide this from them, our time apart will only grow until after we return to Insomnia." She turned her back to him and stared up at the vast, colorful sky. The sun was rising and the sky was being painted with an array of shades of orange, red, and yellow. "After all the years we've spent together, I guess you've finally grown tired of me. I'm not surprised, really. To be honest, I'm not the easiest person to live with and I sometimes can be really annoying. I mean, you've-"

Two arms wrapped around her body, silencing her. She tensed up slightly when feeling her back flush against his body. A small gasp slipped from her lips when she felt Prompto nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. His warm breath grazed her skin, causing her body to shudder. His blonde locks tickled the side of her face as his arms tightened around her. In her left ear, she heard him whisper, "I'm not tired of you, (Y/n). I could never get tired of you. You've been with me since the beginning and...and I can't believe you haven't left yet. I never thought someone like you would still wanna hang around a loser like me even now..."

(Y/n) pried his arms off her and turned around to face him. Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she stared into his cerulean eyes. "Even if I wasn't your guardian, I know we were destined to find one another. If I was human, maybe we could...never mind."

"Tell me," Prompto begged, gazing into her glistening golden eyes.

She shook her head with another sigh. "Sorry, it's nothing. I'm letting my imagination run wild again."

All of a sudden, she heard footsteps and acted quickly. Her body vanished, returning to the gemstone in Prompto's bracelet. The blonde also heard the footsteps and promptly picked up his camera, acting like he was taking pictures of the surrounding area.

Ignis walked around the corner, his emerald eyes analyzing the photographer. "Is everything all right, Prompto?"

"Uh, y-yeah!" The marksman's voice cracked, afraid his friend had overheard his conversation with (Y/n). "Just takin' some pics of the scenery!"

The strategist's eyes ventured over to the camera in the younger boy's grasp. "You are mindful of the lens cap, are you not?"

Prompto looked down at his camera and chuckled nervously as he removed the lens cap. "I-I knew it was on..."

"Of course," Ignis replied. The advisor detected the blonde's strange behavior and was able to see through his lie with ease. However, he simply spun on his heels and left his companion without questioning him.

The shutterbug sighed in relief when Ignis left. "That was too close..."

"I'll say," (Y/n) said as she reappeared beside him. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

"H-Hey, I tried my best."

"I know, but..." The golden-eyed girl looked around at the desert-like landscape. "You realize this isn't a scenic view, right? It's nothing but dirt, rocks, and a few plants scattered about. I'm pretty sure I saw a tumbleweed earlier, too."

"As an avid photographer, it's my job to capture everything," Prompto replied. "Even the ugly parts."

(Y/n) glanced at the boy from the corner of her eye. "A photographer captures the beauty in everything. Even the ugliest parts of this world have beauty hidden somewhere. I'm sure you can turn this desolate landscape into something beautiful. Just make sure you get some breakfast before becoming lost in your photography. Your stomach's growling."

Prompto, having been distracted, finally felt and heard his stomach grumble. A rosy hue dusted across his face, embarrassed at how obnoxious his stomach sounded. "I'll grab a bite at Takka's. What about you?"

"What about me?" (Y/n) replied with her own question.

"You haven't eaten since we left the city. You should come with me! If the guys see us, we can just pretend we're strangers who decided to share a meal together."

She smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll be fine, Prom. I can go a couple more days without eating." She bumped her hip against his, nudging him forward. "Now go get something to eat."

Prompto knew how stubborn the girl was. He didn't stand a chance against her and hung his head with a sigh. "Okay..."

<-----------<<<<<

A couple days later, the royal retinue arrived at Longwythe Rest Area after the Regalia was repaired. They delivered a package as per requested by Cindy and received a visit from Umbra. Seeing as the day was turning to night, the boys headed over to the Crow's Nest Diner to enjoy a quick dinner before checking in at the motel across the street.

Around ten o'clock, Prompto realized the others were all asleep and quietly made his way out of the room. With the spare gil he received from Ignis after their successful hunt yesterday, he headed back over to the Crow's Nest and stood outside the entrance. He summoned (Y/n), who appeared in front of him in mere seconds.

Turning her head, the spirit hummed in curiosity as she peered over her shoulder at the small diner. "The Crow's Nest? What're we doing here?"

"You're hungry, right?" Prompto asked. "It's been four days since you've ate anything so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for you to get a bite to eat. With the guys asleep, it'll also give us some alone time."

"All right, but it's getting late. As much as I would love chatting with you for hours upon end, you'll need to get some sleep. Once I'm done eating, you're heading straight to bed."

"Deal."

Prompto and (Y/n) entered the diner, taking a seat at one of the booths. The man behind the counter walked over and took their order. The blonde asked for a simple glass of water while the girl ordered the salmon with a soda. As they waited for their order, the two chatted nonstop.

A few minutes ticked by and their order arrived. (Y/n) enjoyed every bite of her salmon, listening to Prompto as he shared what she had missed during her time slumbering in the gemstone. She clung to every word even after finishing her meal.

By the time midnight rolled around, the (h/c)-haired girl's eyes widen in shock. "I lost track of time!" She scurried out of the booth after Prompto paid. "You need to get some sleep. We'll be heading to Galdin Quay tomorrow and I wouldn't want to be the reason why you lost sleep."

"I know," Prompto sighed dejectedly. "I just...really wanted to spend some time with you."

She smiled at him. "Prom, we've been by each other's side for a very long time. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. Now go back to bed so you have enough energy for tomorrow. I'm really excited for Galdin Quay! I've always wanted to visit the ocean. I'd love to relax on the beach."

"Me too!" Prompto chanted excitedly. "I can't wait to take so many pictures!"

"All the more reason you should get some rest," she remarks.

He nodded. "Yeah. 'Night, (Y/n)."

Her smile blossomed. "Goodnight, Prom." Her body vanished, returning to the golden gemstone.

Prompto rushes back to the room and crawls into bed. He closed his eyes, delving into the world of dreams.

Almost two hours later, Prompto was startled awake by a nightmare. A cold sweat consumed his body as he flew up into a sitting position. Trailing his hand across his forehead, he wiped off the small sweat droplets before climbing out of bed and slipping his boots on. Leaving the room, he headed up to the roof to clear his head.

On the rooftop, Prompto sat down and let the cool breeze dry his body, calm his racing heart, and clear his head. He stared across the street, noticing the Crow's Nest was still open. He watched as a couple of hunters pulled into Longwythe Rest Area in a truck and parked just outside the diner. Once they entered the eatery, the blonde looked away with a heavy sigh. With his attention no longer focused on anything, the images from the nightmare filled his mind.

"Bad dream?"

Prompto turned his head and saw (Y/n) standing a few feet away. "Yeah," he replied halfheartedly.

"What was it about?" She pried.

"Noct, Gladio, Iggy, and I were facing off against a horde of daemons. I kept getting in the way and then...they abandoned me." The boy stared down at his hands as he clasped them tightly together. "Am I...worthless?"

(Y/n) clutched her hands behind her back as she focused her attention on the daemons prowling the darkness just beyond the rest area. "You're not worthless, Prom. Everyone is unique in different ways. You may not possess the strength of your friends, but you have your own special abilities that make up for their weaknesses." She hopped on to the ledge of the roof, walking down the narrow strip of concrete. "A team is like a puzzle. If one piece is missing, it's incomplete."

"H-Hey, be careful," Prompto muttered nervously as he felt his anxiety skyrocket just by watching her walk along the edge of the roof.

The guardian continued walking until she reached the end of the ledge. She stared down at the asphalt below. "You may think you're worthless, but in reality you aren't. You might not see it, but the others and I do. You've convinced yourself you are worthless and that's why you dream of such horrific scenarios." Turning around, she stared into his cerulean eyes with her golden ones. "No one is perfect. We all have our flaws. They may appear perfect in your eyes, but that's because your combined strength is able to hide them."

"But you're perfect," Prompto unconsciously said.

She smirked at him. "If I'm perfect, so are you. After all, I am a fragment of your soul."

The blonde's eyes widen at her words. Even though he's known the girl all his life, not once has he heard the real story about guardians. "What do you mean, (Y/n)?"

Hopping off the ledge, the (h/c)-haired girl walked over and sat beside him. She hung her legs off the roof, swinging them back and forth. "The fairytales about guardians are false. We're not almighty beings sent from the heavens by the Astrals to watch over the people of Eos. Guardians are spiritual beings manifested from a fragment of a person's soul. Our duty as a guardian is to protect the very soul that created us. Not everyone possesses the power to forge a guardian, though. Very few humans do, and you're one of them, Prompto. When a human does shape a guardian, we take the form of their choice. My appearance is a result of your cognition."

"So, the reason you look like this is...?"

"I've taken the form of your deepest desire. I must say," (Y/n) examined her appearance and grinned. "I look pretty good. At least you didn't make me look like a chocobo. I don't know what I'd do if I was a yellow bird."

Prompto's cheeks ignited a deep crimson and he immediately looked everywhere but at her. He couldn't remember a single time when his imagination created a strong, intelligent, beautiful person. He cleared his throat, eyes still darting around to avoid her gaze. "U-Um..." The boy's mind was blank as he tried to think of a response, but not even a single word came to mind.

(Y/n) realized this and smiled. "I know this is the first time we've really talked about spirits, but I hope I was able to explain it clearly. If not, we can always search for actual text. There are many documented existences of spirits and books that have been published."

Prompto found his voice and said, "I never really asked because, well...I kinda forgot you were a guardian."

"You treat me like a normal person," she stated. "Which I'm grateful for, even though I'm not human."

"You look like a normal girl to me," he answered honestly, finally being able to look at her.

"Yeah, well, your cognition thought of a normal girl."

"Does that mean if my deepest desire was a chocobo, you really would've been one?" He asked, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"No, I was just messing with you. A guardian's human form is based on their master's deepest desire, but it has to take the form of a human. All spirits have a human form and a true form. Alas, our master doesn't determine our true form."

"Y'know, I've never seen your true form," Prompto commented. "Is it scary?"

"Um, well..." (Y/n)'s voice trailed off. She watched the two hunters from earlier depart the Crow's Nest and drive away in their truck. "I...want to say no, but it might frighten you. But trust me, Prom, I would never hurt you or the others."

"I know," he smiled gently. "Now I'm really curious what your true form is! Is it a chocobo?"

The spirit giggled, nudging her elbow into his side. "Don't get too excited. And no, it's not. Guess you'll just have to wait."

The blonde released a dramatic groan as he hung his head. "Aw, man...!"

Next Chapter || Masterlist

[lunaekalenda]

I'm sorry for sending yet ANOTHER request, I just love your writing so much 😭

What about Soulmate AU where you can feel the pain your soulmate feels?

The reader is Zeke's soulmate even though she's from Paradis and with the Scouts, so she definitely feels the pain when Levi decapitates Zeke (he killed Zeke before the rumbling begins).

(I was thinking of this as platonic levi x reader? The Soulmate thing is with Zeke just to be more dramatic 😂)

hiii!! omg thank you so much! also your ideas are really cool, and i’m really happy to see your user on my requests!! <3 i hope you like it <3

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❁ levi x reader, zeke x female!reader (kind of ??)

❁ death, spoilers from the manga, blood, again swearing against zeke lol, canon violence, non canon events!!!! btw sasha is alive because sasha <3

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You feel small punctures on your hands. Again. It’s been a whole day feeling them, as if you are squeezing needles in your hands. It was harmful and really uncomfortable, but when you looked at your hands, they were smooth, without a cut. 

“That’s because is your soulmate who’s getting hurt there.” Hange told you, once you found them out of their tent. They were holding a book, and Moblit was following them, carrying some more. Hange looks at you, their gaze low, looking directly to your hands. “Anyway, whoever your soulmate is, is probably making you regret all your training period.” You laugh. You were specially headstrong during the training. It didn’t care how many times you fell or how many wounds you got. You kept training and fighting without a break. Maybe your soulmate felt all that pain too.

In the other side of the map, Zeke Jaeger is crushing rocks with his hands. The little fragments of broken rocks make cuts on his hands. He clenches his jaw and throws them, hitting some enemies. He feels Porco’s titan fast steps behind, probably trying to break the machines. Also Pieck’s fighting near him, as usual. He feels all his body tired and the blood in his hands is starting to get dry. But he keeps fighting. Maybe that’s why destiny made him your soulmate.

Sometimes, you can’t even differentiate if you’re feeling bad or if he is the one feeling bad. Your bodies are connected in a way that even biology can’t explain. But, considering that you never met - or so do you think.- it's kind of weird. Having a soulmate wasn’t rare, half of the population has it. You’re meant to find each other and be together. You walk back to your barricade, thinking about it. Maybe he’s one of the Corps soldiers. Someone who might be very resistant to pain. Someone strong and...

“Oi, have you seen Hange?” Levi asks. He’s in front of you, and he has some books in his hands. It seems like he’s helping Hange as well. You look behind you, where Hange was a minute earlier. They're gone.

"They were here a couple of seconds aho, but I guess they moved..." You saw Levi was looking behind him, to a table full of books. You guessed that all those heavy books were the ones Levi and Hange were moving. You take some of them as well. "It's not necessary..." he says, but you're taking four books now. Walking again towards him, you look around, searching Hange and Moblit.

"Didn't they told you were they are moving the books?" Levi sighed before clicking his tongue.

"That four eyes... They didn't say anything about it because I told them to leave the war room free for new reunions, so they moved all theyr shit." he says. The books are heavy and he has been holding them for a time now, so he's kinda edgy. He walks towards a tent in the sand, near the one where the Special OPs squad sleep. Connie was out of the tent, looking at the sea. Behind him, Sasha was taking care of a bouquet of white roses.

Pain hitted you like a train, literally. Zeke's body was so tired that the train hitted his titan's legs, making him and you feel the pain. You fell, crying of the high level of dolor. Levi left the books near you, on the floor, and Sasha and Connie walked fast toward you. You were there, feeling like your legs got crushed. Levi took your boots out easily, and, looking at you for consent, raised your pants to the knee. Your legs where perfect, as always. You couldn't stop crying. Even when Levi, a total hater of affection and physical contact, started to massage them carefully. Sasha took some cold water from the sea on a jar, and put the cold metal jar on your muscles, trying to ease the pain. Connie gave you potable water.

In Marley, Zeke was also feeling a lot of pain. His legs were totally crushed and smashed because of the fucking train. He knows that his human form will repair his muscles once he's out of the titan, so that's why, searching Porco's company, he leaves the titan's body. Porco covers him while his intern muscles get easily cured. In Paradis, your legs start to feel a bit better, and you're able to feel something more than pain on them. Something like the smooth touch of the Captain. Levi keeps massaging them, doing little circles and looking at you.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks. You nod. "What happened?"

Since everybody respects someone who has a soulmate, Levi is not different to the rest. Once he knows that you have a soulmate, you'll have 0 opportunities with him. Even knowing that he probably doesn't feel the same for you, having that little unknow will play at your favor. If he does feel something, you'll just ignore all the pain your soulmate is giving you. After all, you two are people with different lives and nothing more than a stupid bond between you. You have no affection towards him because you don't know who he is, to begin with. And, also. maybe the feelings you have developed for the Captain doesn’t let you think about any other person. 

At least from now.

“Yes, yes. Thanks, Captain.” he shakes his head, as if he was saying that you shouldn’t thank him. 

“Your pain has been increasing lately, doesn’t it?” he asks, in a whisper. It’s normal for him to care about you, after all you’re one of his soldiers. You move your legs. They just feel heavy, but the pain has been gone. “You should rest here a bit. I’ll call Connie . He’ll make you company while the meal isn’t ready.”

Levi lefts the tent quick. You have been here stuck for months now, after you killed all the titans left in the island. You know there’s a bigger enemy than the colossus humans that killed a lot of your comrades and friends. You remember once the pain was so bad, like if someone had cut your arms and legs and then just put a thunderspear on your abdomen. And it exploded. You were conscious of every single organ of your body. You were unable to walk for a week. Your soulmate was really fast healing, so you have the belief that he is a titan. No doubt.

Ha, you’re bonded with a titan shifter. What if that one is the one that Levi promised to kill?

You shake your head when Connie enters.

“Oh, wow, you look better!” he says. You smile at him and he sits near to you. Connie is basically your best friend here, and he was always trying to make you feel better. 

“Yes, I’m feeling way better.” you answer. Connie gives you a glass of water, “Thanks.”

“Your soulmate must be having fun, doesn’t he?” Connie and Hange were the only ones you told that you’ve probably a soulmate, but lately, the magnitude of the pain that man has to resist was a really obvious indicator of your bond. Probably, the Captain also knows it just because of intuition.

“He definitely is. for sure.” You say, after drinking all the glass. Connie puts it on a near table. You let out a sigh. “Y/N, listen, maybe you should tell the Captain. Like, he’s the Captain of our squad. What if your soulmate looses an arm and you fell in the middle of a battle?” But you don’t want to leave the Corps. They are your family, your most treasured ones. 

“But I don’t want to leave...” you whisper. Connie sighs and looks at the front, through the window.

“You don’t have to leave. Just work here, as a healer, or...”

“I want to fight. With you all. I don’t want to make Levi lose another soldier. We’re just seven on his squad. He needs all the people capable to follow his pace.” It was true. Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha and you, with Levi, are the most capable soldiers of the army. That’s why all of you are in the Special Ops squad. 

Later, Jean brought you the dinner. It took you a bit to start to train again, and time passed. Eren announced the rumbling, and Levi told you all the plans for the mission. 

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"Just execute the plan. We just have to stop the rumbling, even if that means killing Eren." The plan made all your comrades uncomfortable. Specially the ones that suffered with him all this time, those who saw him grow and express his ideals. That’s what you were thinking when, time later, you’re fighting hand to hand with the squad. Titans are everywhere and you only can see blood and hear screams. Jean is near Pieck and there’s a weird sensation growing up in your chest. Like if you knew what was about to happen to your soulmate. Levi was behind you. A big stalactite can be seen, at a figure seems to be on top of it. A blonde boy you met, knowing that he was a shifter. You can see him from Falco's titan's back.

Maybe he is your soulmate?

If someone kills him and your supposition is true, that means you’ll be in problems. 

Levi looks at him, his gaze full of anger. He goes near him, using the ODMS and, taking out his blades, before you could react, he decapitates him.

You felt like your soul was about to leave your body, how your head hurts so much that it seems like it was about to fell off your shoulders. You can’t breath and your lungs seem to stop working. Levi comes back and found you screaming of pain.

“y/n!” he yelled. Taking you with him, he puts you again on Falco’s titan back. You search his eyes, lying down on the soft back of the titan.

“He... was m-my... soulmate.” Levi opened his eyes with horror.

“I’m so sorry, I... I didn’t know that.” he says.

“I didn’t either.” You say, but your voice was breaking because of the pain screams. You hold your head, like if you wanted to avoid it from getting parted away from your body. It hurts so much.

Levi holds your head softly. Your neck feels really bad, but it is starting to heal slowly.

“Sorry.” he whispers. “I didn’t want to hurt you in any way.” It was okay. No one knew that Zeke, the man that he promised to kill, was your soulmate. So it was not his fault. Your face is full of tears, but you show him a little smile.

“It’s okay. After all, we weren't mean to be together.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a better man.” he says, while Falco keeps flying.

I hope so, you think, while his warm hands caress your hair, trying to make all that pain disappear.