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poptod · 3 years

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The Breeding Kings (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahkmen’s new school year starts with a bang.

Notes: guess who has imposter syndrome!!!! heres my next work i think??? idk where my inspiration is gonna pull me at any given time. i just wanna say this takes place when ahk’s pretty young! not like ten or something lmao but lets just say hes not an adult. by the way, the reader is indian (indus valley, at the time). WC: 7.3k

"Don't we look like a dream?"

A sharp inhale brought his eyes to shoot open, staring through the cold air to the blank ceiling above him. For a moment he frowned, as his bed had a silk canopy above it, but he quickly realized he had passed out in his friend's room again. He groaned softly, raising his hand to rub his face.

"What... happened last night?" He grumbled, his voice turning to a whisper when the volume of it left him wincing.

No response.

"Piye?"

Ahkmen raised himself, though very strenuously, and looked over the tables and stools thrown beside him. Splinters nearly dug into his fingertips, but he jerked away before anything could lodge.

Piye was much in the same position. Quite literally, with their limbs strewn about, hair a knotted mess upon their head. The only difference was that Piye was lying face down, their face squished into one of the table legs. He almost laughed, but even the spreading of a smile sparked a headache, so instead he poked his blacked out friend.

They groaned, loudly, but did not move. Ahkmen continued to poke them until they finally had enough, pushing themselves upwards.

"What the hell do you want?" They asked, their voice low and scratchy. Even their eyes had yet to open, stuck shut with crushed eyelashes.

"What did we do last night?" He asked in a mumble, resting his weight on the thin edge of a fallen table.

"You invited Panya and she killed us with beer," Piye breathed out, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hand.

"Fuck," said Ahkmen. "An... what day's today?"

Piye breathed very deeply before opening their mouth, letting out a roar of a yell, "DAD?!? What's today??"

Ahkmen winced away, covering his ears until Piye lay back down, still relaxing into the pile of chairs and tables.

"It is the eleventh of Khuiahk," came Adom's voice from around the corner of the tiny hallway leading to the door of Piye's room. Ahkmen heard a flip of papyrus before he spoke again, "you have school today, if that's what you're wondering."

"Ah... shit," Piye sighed.

"That means I have school too," Ahkmen said with widening eyes, a pitiful sense of dread overcoming his hangover. "I can't learn like this. I haven't showered since yesterday, I – I barely have a hold on my thoughts, I can't stand loud noises –"

"If you can still gripe like that, you're fine," Piye said flatly, lying for a moment more before their eyes opened, making way for them to sit up and stand.

"But –"

"Calm down, my Prince," Piye said with a derisive bow. "It's quite alright. I'll get us ready within the hour."

Having Piye as a friend came in handy a number of times, but especially when it came to maintaining his image of a perfect son. His parents adored him dearly, but Ahkmen was convinced that that status could be stripped at any moment, and that they would begin to treat him as they did his brother, Kamun. Thus having Piye to excuse away his mistakes was beyond helpful to him, let alone the secret capabilities of the palace physician's child.

In a calm-as-ever demeanor, Piye shoved both him and themself into clothes too warm for the sunshine already beating down on them through windows. The Prince felt a little off––a little more disgusted with himself than usual––but his discomfort was quickly remedied with a stop by the Nile, where the two quickly washed themselves.

Returning into clothes was made easy by the sun that dried the water on their skin within a minute of leaving the river. The two dressed, shoving their legs into skirts and golden bands as they walked, stumbling through the streets with soaking wet hair.

"One last stop," Piye said before they reached the center of the city, pulling Ahkmen off down a hidden alley.

Boxes and carts of goods had been stacked as wide as the thin alley, but they were easily climbed, and the two found themselves in an entirely different part of town.

"How quick is this stop going to be? We're already going to be late," Ahkmen said, but continued to follow Piye without fail.

"Wouldn't worry about it," they assured as they directed him into a tent of red and purple drapes.

Smoke welled in the ceiling, already uncomfortably low for Ahkmen, and even worse for Piye. It must've been important, whatever Piye was trying to do, as they were particularly sensitive about their height at times, and tried not to draw attention to it. The only true light inside the tiny shop was the burning incense, and what little sun could make it through the dark fabric that made up the ceiling and walls. When Ahkmen caught the scent, he recognized it easily––myrrh.

"What are we doing here?" Ahk whispered, trying to look over Piye's shoulder as they led the way through continuous halls of silk.

"Yogi?" Piye said, knocking against the first hard surface they could find.

There was a moment of silence before the wall of satin before him rustled, rippling till it split open to reveal you; a small, foreign child about his age, with a bright red dot on your forehead above wide eyes. His heart thumped erratically as you met his gaze. While he couldn't directly place where you were from, the style of your home and lavish clothes as well as your facial features assured him you were not Egyptian.

"Be needing something, Piye?" You said in a thick accent, looking up at the magi who towered above you.

"One of your drinks," they said. You nodded and ducked back into your room.

"We don't need more to drink," Ahkmen whispered.

"It's a hangover cure. You'll be wanting it."

"Oh."

A moment later you returned, two clay cups in hand swirling with a red mixture. Ahkmen looked suspiciously into the liquid, trying to decipher the ingredients, before Piye knocked their whole cup back and swallowed it in a single gulp. Scuffing his sandal against the floor, he copied his friend's movements.

Sweet, but thick. Like dough, but slimy, and the sensation of it slowly sliding down his throat only brought about more questions as to the ingredients.

"You must be one of their friends," you said once they both finished, handing their mugs to you.

"Well, um..." Ahkmen looked up to Piye, "yes. We're on our way to Osiris' temple."

"You are, then... students?"

"Yes. I study language and morals, Anpu here studies law," Piye answered for him, patting Ahkmen's shoulder.

"The bell will start soon. You should go, the priests are not made of give," you said as you set the cups aside, showing them out the door.

Blazing sun burnt the back of his eyes as he stepped outside, back into the radiating heat and the empty street, which lay an alley's walk away from the Temple of Osiris. He squinted, searching for the boxes he'd climbed earlier.

"Over here," Piye directed him, and he followed.

"Where's your friend from? Doesn't sound like –"

"- like Egyptian is their first language," Piye finished. "I've never bothered to ask, but if I had to guess, somewhere in the east. Our friendship is mostly limited to school, and medicine."

"They study medicine?" Ahkmen asked incredulously. If you weren't native to Egypt, and it was painfully obvious you weren't, it would be a feat beyond God to achieve any form of education concerning the human body.

"Not proper medicine, mind you. It's back-alley magic," Piye said, opening the door to the temple and allowing Ahkmen to pass in front of them.

"Quite literally," Ahkmen mumbled beneath his breath, scanning the main temple for any sign of the priests.

"Right."

"And what was with that fake name?"

"I don't think they –"

"I cannot imagine it will be a fantastic impression on your teachers that you are late on your first day of schooling," came a voice from behind them.

Both Ahkmen and Piye whirled around, wide eyes meeting the High Priest of Osiris, an older man named Yafeu that had never been fond of the royal family. Fortunately, he would not be teaching anyone––the High Priest's position was 'too important' to concern itself with the younger generations teachings. Osiris and his temple required constant cleaning, as well as regularly cleaned offerings of jewels and flowers, plates of delicacies that reached the knee of the massive statue sat at the head of the temple.

In fact, that was where Ahkmen stood; before the statue of Osiris. Somewhere he was not supposed to be.

"We're having trouble finding our class," Piye said before Ahkmen could even think of how to reply.

Yafeu raised a single brow, scanning the both of them with an unimpressed expression. He raised his finger to point at a small door behind Osiris.

"That way."

"Thank you, sir," Piye said with a small bow, taking Ahkmen's hand and rushing him out the door.

While the temple of Osiris held much land, and much of it was occupied by caretakers both priestly and humble, who worked to please Osiris, commoners and non-priests were generally not allowed. Gardens bloomed around the sacred lake, lovingly tended to fit the needs of the temple.

As Ahkmen and Piye walked down the long, open hallway, which on the left side held the many rooms of those working in the temple, and on the right displayed the wealth of the courtyard, the Prince wondered upon the subject of the temple. Very few people were allowed inside––hence his apprehension upon being caught––but considering the amount of people it took to care for the temple, it seemed to him a little unfair that others couldn't come to bow at the statue's feet.

Perhaps the priests, and his father, did not want commoners coming to Osiris with petty issues.

"You handled that quite well," Ahkmen said as he noted the arch to class approaching.

"I fucking hate priests," they seethed, but the expression gave way for a smile in an instant when they both entered the room.

Yafeu might've been old, but the priests that retired into teachers were much older. Last year, Ahkmen's teacher had been a much younger scribe, but this year his class of four would be taught by a priest who had spent his better years tending to Sobek's temple, and consequently had lots of experience with crocodiles. That was about the only interesting thing about the man, except for the fact that his name was Setet, which according to Ahk’s classmate meant 'Daughter of Set'.

A very strange name indeed. Ahkmen let the thought of it occupy his thoughts for a minute or two, but grew quickly bored of the subject, and eventually his mind wandered back to the events of the morning. If Setet had the gall to be this uninteresting, Ahkmen could be allowed time to think and gather himself.

Last night, he thought, chewing on his bottom lip. What had happened?

The details were fuzzy in his head––more a mess of mangled half-memories soaked in beer and wine. According to Piye, who now sat cross-legged on the carpet beside him, something had happened with his friend Panya that made both of them drink a lot of beer. A drinking contest, maybe––Ahkmen was, at times, too prideful for his own good.

Panya couldn't really be considered a friend. She was rarely ever kind to him, and he treated her in much the same light. Despite her crude behavior, she was quite beautiful, and attended the same prestigious school as he did––only in a different class.

What is he talking about? he thought to himself blearily, trying to focus back in on the man in front of him talking.

Then there was the question of you––the pretty little potionmaker––and with that thought implanted in his mind, he left the classroom in every way imaginable except physical.

Ahkmen very rarely met anyone from other countries that weren't royal, so the sudden presence of you was something he could think about for a good, long while as he waited out the school day. He thoroughly enjoyed any research into the cultures and activities of citizens in countries his own and not his own.

You came up about to his shoulder––which meant you were only as tall as Piye's elbow––and your skin was of a darker, more vibrantly red color than those of the Egyptians he usually related himself to. The lighting in your tent had been subpar, making it hard for him to recall what color that dot on your forehead had been. All he could remember was that it existed.

The hangover remedy you had concocted had, without Ahkmen entirely noticing, taken away his headache and minimized his sensitivity to light and sound, which convinced the Prince that you had some sort of schooling behind you. Maybe you weren't as poorly as you looked––all respect to you, of course––and, maybe, you were someone of similar noble standing.

He wasn't sure which theory he liked more.

Unfortunately, he couldn't remember your name, and now that class had started he would have to wait until lunch to ask Piye.

When midday finally did come around, he, Piye, and the other two students in his class were excused to the garden. In the center of the courtyard, the High Priest readied himself for the midday ceremony by bathing in the sacred lake placed there by hand. Clerks and jewellers flitted about from place to place, carrying the finished products of beautiful works that would never see the light of day beyond Osiris' temple. Similarly, weavers and barbers tended to Yafeu as he bathed in preparation.

"What was that eastern brewer's name again?" Ahkmen asked, tugging on Piye's skirt as he attempted to catch up with their long strides.

"The one from the alley? Yogi," they said with a curious tilt of their head. "Why?"

"Oh, I've been thinking about it all morning. I couldn't remember but I know you called them by name."

"Right. Hungry?" Piye asked, stopping before the door to the kitchens.

"I want to find Panya first," Ahk said as he scanned the courtyard.

"Well I want to eat. If you want to try and wade through that crowd for a woman who hates you, go ahead," Piye said, waving him off before promptly slamming the door behind them as they left.

"... right," Ahkmen muttered to himself under his breath.

There were far too many people going about the temple that, standing from his position, it was impossible to see everyone. One thing he did know about Panya, though; she always brought her own food and always sat alone.

Ten minutes later Ahkmen found himself yelling up into a tree that Panya had managed to scale.

"Get lost, goldie!" She yelled from above, picking one of the dates and lobbing it at his head. He dodged, eyes darting down at the ground, where the date had made a dent in the dirt.

"Come on, I just have a question!" He said, squinting from the sun shining directly above him.

"The answer's no. Now go away! You're going to attract one of the priests with all that yelling," she said, cocking her chin into the sky.

"Oh, fuck you," he muttered as he at last looked down, his neck sore from craning it so long. So much for figuring out last night.

As he made his way back to the kitchens, he crossed the middle of the courtyard and spied through the pillars of stone the open door of the inner temple. Inside grew an ethereal blue light, surrounding the figures of stone, warped with smoke as Yafeu knelt to his knees before Osiris. His mouth moved in constant prayer, but Ahkmen could not hear from his distance. He could only watch.

Until one of the clerks shut the door.

He frowned, but headed on his way, soon sliding in next to his friend, Piye. They had taken a seat on one of the many carpets set out on the floor, the open roof allowing sunlight to flood the otherwise dark room. All that protected the students and chefs from the heat of the sun, as well as the heat of the ovens, was the thin tarps covering the majority of the ceiling, though not entirely. There was still room for a couple rays of unbroken sun.

"Find her?" Piye asked through a mouthful of food.

"Yes, but she wouldn't talk to me," Ahk said, irritant in his movements as he began to eat his own lunch.

"Sounds like her."

By the end of school, the sun was already cresting the horizon of low mountains, leading his shadow to tall heights as he walked with Piye, their backs to the sun. Inside the courtyard of the temple, servants and workers planted seeds in the black mud gathered from the Nile's banks. Outside it, however, bustled the busy life of Memphis markets that always received the most amount of patrons after school and work was finished for the day.

Wading through the crowd had always been more of an art than anything, though Ahkmen couldn't practice that art very well with Piye beside him. They stuck out horribly, too tall to duck beneath the swaying barrels and baskets, and unable to pass people by without seeming rude.

"Oh shit!" Ahkmen exclaimed in a moment of remembrance, raising his hand to stop Piye. "I remember why Panya came over."

"Really?" They pulled both of them to the side, pressed against a restaurant wall. "What was it?"

"Drinking contest. Remember last Friday? We had that bet and then I lost, and I had to give her one of my necklaces, but I couldn't part with any of mine, so I just stole my mother's. Then my mother started asking questions, and... oh fuck. Mother's going to kill me," Ahk said with wide eyes, raising his hands to cover his mouth.

"I would love to help you out with this problem, but she's really not going to do anything, and I need to help my father collect ingredients from the market. Is that alright?"

"Yes, I... I understand. Any advice though?"

"Go find Yogi. They might be able to help. See you," they said as they turned and left, all but their shoulders and head disappearing in the crowd.

Ahkmen had little on his persons except the clothes he wore, and the bands he had on his arms marked him as royal. They could not be sold, bartered, or traded in any way, as any non-royal found wearing them was jailed or enslaved. He could not give them to Panya in exchange. Panya might've been annoying, but she didn't deserve something like that.

Since that was the only idea he had, he found himself sneaking back towards Osiris' temple, and going through the streets leading to it in hopes of finding that alleyway once more. It was less of an alley and more of a space between two close buildings, but that distinction easily led him back to climbing over boxes of storage.

In the warm blush of evening, it was hard to make out the different alleys leading to this singular space between buildings, where nothing had been built except that tent of yours. It appeared as though you had blocked it off purposely––made your home secret for a reason.

Questions swarmed his head as he ducked beneath the flap of your home, watching his head for anything hanging too low. He raised his hand, searching for a hard surface––something to rapp his knuckles on, as Piye had.

"Uh... Yoshi?"

"My name is not that. Do not call me that," you said, walking out from behind what Ahkmen thought was a wall. He nearly jumped at your sudden appearance.

"Sorry. I was, um, here this morning, with my friend Piye? They said you might be able to help me," he said in a rambling manner, playing with his fingers.

"What help you need?"

"I had a bet with this girl from my school, and she ended up with my mother's necklace, and I need that necklace. My mother was asking me about it earlier, so I know she's noticed."

"Hmm..." you glanced to the side, placing your hands on your hips. "What was.. your bet on?"

"Drinking contest."

"Ah," you said with a sudden smile. "No problem. You find your girl, bring her here. I will give her my beer."

"You brew beer?" Ahkmen asked incredulously, his eyes widening. Beer-making was something generally reserved for adults.

"I do many things. Do not worry. She will not die," you said, shaking your head as though that would assure him.

"Why would she die?!" Ahkmen asked with even larger eyes.

"I just tell you she will not die! Now go grab her. I will be here with your cups. Tell her you want to do it again," you said, pushing him out the door. He was not at all swayed by your efforts, but allowed you to move him anyway, and soon he stood outside in an evening where the sun had set too fast.

A chill ran over his skin, at which point he acutely missed the warmth of your tent. How you kept it so comfortable, as well as clean in there was a mystery, but that was not at the forefront of his thoughts. Instead he tried to recall where Panya might be––perhaps at school, perhaps at home, or maybe with her friend. She only had one.

After clambering back over the wall of boxes and crates, he snuck back into the courtyard of the temple, keeping a careful eye on any movement he saw. The task proved hard after about five seconds of being in there, as the next ceremony was soon approaching. The Priests would put Osiris to rest for the night.

In several of the rooms he passed, he found other children of noble bearings discussing quietly with the older priests and clerks, who passed the time of their elderly years raising the next generation. He checked each door, but in the end he found Panya on the edge of one of the creeks that ran like veins with the lifeblood of the Nile.

"Can we talk now?" He asked, taking great enjoyment in her surprise as she turned.

"I'd prefer we didn't," she said, turning back to look at the river.

"If I recall correctly," which he did not, "I won last night's contest, right? That puts us at a tie."

"You big liar," said Panya, who also did not recall the events of last night. "I quite distinctly remember rubbing your face in my win."

"Come now, all I'm offering is one more drinking contest. You get to get drunk for free. If you win, I... I'll owe you one favor. One thing you ask of me, I'll do, no questions asked. If I win, I get that necklace back."

"You're vain sometimes, you know that?" She said in a quieter voice as he stood to face her, watching her fingers play with the massive emerald that now dangled from her shoulders.

"So are you."

She raised an unimpressed brow, scanning the Prince before she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Very well. Is Piye going to be overlooking it again?"

"No, no," Ahk said with a dismissive hand, dropping his other to grab Panya's hand and direct her along. "They're busy tonight. I've got someone else on board."

It took a little convincing to get the noble girl to climb up and over the boxes for a secret part of the city, but he eventually won her over and directed her inside your tent. She was about your height––maybe a little taller––and had no problems standing in your low-roof home. Ahkmen on the other hand took a seat as soon as he could.

You introduced yourself with a small bow, bringing forward a low table with a long strip of embroidered cloth, upon which you placed four small cups built of what appeared to be clay. All of this you did in a smooth, practiced swoop that lasted only a moment before Ahkmen was forced to face Panya once more.

Ahkmen might've been a desperate man––in more than one sense of the word––but he would not resort to cheating by stealing. Not to good people. Thus he would keep his word concerning the prizes of the competition, no matter how certain he was that he would fail.

He was a prince, accustomed to constant fine wines and thick beer that smelled strongly of alcohol. A sipper in small amounts.

Panya was not. She had quite a lot of money like his family, but she was far more connected with the world of other teenagers than Ahkmen was.

"I like you to state what you will win if you... win," you said, standing beside the table Ahk and Panya sat at. "That way, it is honest."

"If Panya wins, she can tell me to do one thing that I must do without question. If I win, I get that necklace back," Ahk said as he pointed to each of the things he referred to.

"Okay. Let us begin!"

Four cups. Two on either side of the centerpiece of the table. Ahkmen reached forward at the same time as Panya, grabbing the cups from the right and downing both of them quick as he could. The less he thought about it, the better. Panya soon copied him, finishing much faster than he had, and slamming the cups down so hard he nearly jumped.

"Good start," you said with a nod. "Feel good?"

"I feel about myself," Ahk offered.

"Then you have not drinking enough." You brought out another four cups in a flash. "Try not to let any of it fall!"

It burned his throat––physically burnt it from the alcohol level. No beer or wine had ever done that before, and he nearly spit it out, but managed to swallow it and hide his teary eyes at the same time. He then watched Panya carefully for any reaction, and noted the same surprise in her expression.

"Is a bit stronger. That is how my game works. By your six rounds, it only takes a cup to get a little," you grinned and rolled your eyes in two different directions. Ahk raised his brows, unable to look away, but said nothing.

"God damn," Panya said after downing the second cup of her's on the table. "Where do you get this stuff?"

"I make it. It is levels of dizziness."

"Do you mean drunkenness?" Ahkmen asked, looking apprehensively down into his second cup.

"Whatever. It is family's secret. I sell it to markets, get a good price, people like becoming drunk," you said with a shrug, taking the old cups, and refilling them with yet another mixture.

"Come now, Ahk," Panya chuckled from across the table. "Gotta finish that second cup if you're gonna challenge me to this kind of a competition."

Ahkmen glared at her for a moment before raising his cup to his lips, knocking it back as he attempted to once again ignore every sensation happening in his throat.

"Good boy," you said, taking his cup and setting it on the shelf behind you.

Four more cups were then placed on the table, and the drinking continued.

By the fifth round, he was already inebriated, his tongue soaked in the numbing powers of this drink you had concocted. There was a part of his not-all-there brain that thought you had taken this drink from the underworld; some sort of backwards world where the Nile flowed with pure alcohol.

If you were telling the truth, and he quite well trusted your word this far, he could be dizzyingly intoxicated with your next drink. He barely had the state of mind to look at Panya, much less decode her own level of drunkenness. That left him blind to the status of his likelihood of winning. And yet, when the next cup was set down in front of him, he gulped it like a sober brewer. Panya did the same.

"Feeling a little of it now?" You asked with a grin.

"Some... something dike lat," he mumbled, his mouth smushed against the hand he supported his head on.

"Do you one finish?"

"... what?" Panya asked, her brow furrowed as she stared intensely at you.

"Do one of you give up?" You tried.

"Hell no," Panya said with an adamant shake of her head. "Get me another!"

"Me too!" Ahk said, raising his hand high as his head fell to the table, knocking against it with a loud thunk. He hissed, curling back on himself with little grace.

Panya snorted, leading into a long laugh as she cherished the look of drunken disdain painted over the Prince's face. You said nothing, but went to fulfill their requests, returning with the same drink as the last one.

"This my strongest drink. What you had before. It is good for you!"

"It may be good for me, but I think my friend over there is going to pass out," Panya said, grabbing you by your collar and forcing you to lean down so she could talk closer to your ear. You giggled.

"You have big strength," you said, stepping away as she downed yet another drink.

"Thank you, uh.. what's... your name?"

"... it is Yogi."

"Well then, Yogi. Another!"

If you had some sort of secret plan to get him to win, he was desperate to see it. This drink of yours had only seemed to be detrimental to him, not to Panya, and anxiousness stewed as he glanced into his cup. She was already ahead of him––to equalize the cards, he had to drink another cup, just to be equal.

You reentered the room as he knocked it back, carrying two more cups. When he set his cup down, you placed the others in front of him, and grabbed the empty one to clean it.

Ahkmen looked up, and through the haze of his thoughts, he might've seen you wink at him with a sly smile. Maybe. It was also possible you had just blinked and his eyes were being slow.

He grabbed his cup, and before he could think about it he chugged it. In a horrifying moment of clarity, he recognized the drink he'd had that morning––some sort of hangover cure that felt like smooth, squishy mud in his mouth. You returned a minute or two later, more drinks in hand. By then your mixture took effect, and much of his wooziness faded away, bringing him back to the land of sobriety before being offered his next cup.

It was all he needed.

Panya went on for a good long while, but without the special concoction she lost by the tenth round. During that time, Ahkmen had plenty enough beer, and had returned to the spinning thoughts of his alcohol-fueled brain, now focused on the one who had helped him so readily––you.

"What are – are you gonna do with... her?" Ahkmen asked through a half-stuffed nose, gesturing weakly to Panya, who had passed out in the corner only moments earlier.

"Do you know her parents?"

"... sort of," he answered vaguely. He definitely knew about them. Her father was Yafeu, and though he did not like Ahkmen, Ahkmen had a fair amount of information about him.

"Will they... scared, about her going.. missing?" You said, slowly piecing together a sentence you had clearly never said in Egyptian.

"You mean does she have to be home tonight?"

You nodded.

"She'll be fine. Her father will... worry, a little, but she can say she was sleeping in a friend's house. They won't.. uh... worry," he said in a mumble, laying his head to rest on your table.

"Then we put her to sleep. Let her rest for a while," you said, bowing your head as you collected the rest of the cups, disappearing behind yet another wall.

He tapped his fingers against the wood, keeping them close to his eyes so as to see his hand better. A long sigh left him.

"Will you go home? Or stay?" You asked upon your return.

"I – I have a lot of answers for you," he said, suddenly quite vindictive and stern as he pointed to you with a shaky finger. "And I want you.. to question..."

He trailed off as he realized his mistake. Embarrassment was clear on his face as he shriveled into himself, but you just giggled, sitting down across from him with a large bag in your lap.

"What is your questions?"

"What's your name? Your full name. You don't... seem happy when.. people say Yogi," he said, resting the majority of his weight on the pillows built up against one of the rare solid walls.

"Well, I come from a long travel. My name is not something many know here," you said with a shrug, digging your hands into the bag and rooting around it. "It is Yogasundari."

"Y.. yogetsury?" He tried on his clumsy tongue.

"Yogasundari. It is okay you can not say it. It is why most call me Yogi."

"So – where do you come from then? If y-you come from," he pushed down a hiccup, "from far away?"

"The east. My city was named Harappa. We live in a beautiful river, like you," you said, smiling a soft, thoughtful smile as you recalled images of your past. "Our city was great. Had all things. But my family is poor and it is easy to live here. We can make our own great.. um..."

"Riches?"

"Yes! Gold, and – and silk, you have, but we change the shape of iron," you said, your grin spreading into excitement. "We have good drinks. You want them here, so we come here, and we live much better than we live in Harappa."

"So you're... here with your family?" He asked in genuine curiosity, looking up at you from his collapsed position on the floor.

Your expression fell away, and an anxiousness overtook your demeanor.

"I was," you said, then frowned with spiteful eyes. "Those kings of yours kill my family, sell them. I love this, the river, but your kings are unjust. They take my parents and I never saw them again."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It is okay. It is not your fault. I have a good home and I know how to stay away from soldiers. They go everywhere in this city. Not like my home. So that is why I am here," you said, gesturing to the patterned cloths that made up your ceiling.

"And it's just you here?"

"There is the cat," you said, looking back down to his chest, where unbeknownst to him, a thin, hairless cat had made a bed.

"Oh," he whispered softly, taken aback.

The purring was nice––actually, most of the cat's presence was nice, except when he went to pet it, and it raised its' head. At that point he saw the gaping holes where eyes were supposed to be, where they probably once were, and he just about jumped out of his skin, and would have if its' claws weren't kneading at his stomach.

"What the fuck," he whispered in a tense breath.

"She is good. Very kind. You do not worry."

"Where'd you find her?" He asked, eyes darting between you and the cat.

"On the street," you said, nodding. "She comes in for eating at some times."

"... delightful."

"What of you?" You asked. "What are you from?"

"I..." he paused, recalling your contempt for the royal family, and then the much earlier occurrence of Piye using a cover name. "... my father's a priest at Osiris' temple. Not the High one, but.. one of them. That's why I go to school there, and that's how I met Panya."

"Are you good friends?"

"Not really," he chuckled. "We have our fights but I respect her, most of the time."

"More with Piye, then?"

"Mm... yeah. How'd you meet them?"

"You have to ask them. They came in my home one day and asked for my brew."

"Which one?"

"The good one," you said with a wink that had Ahkmen snorting. "I have forgot to ask your name. Your friends name you two things."

What had Piye called him that morning? Panya had used Ahk, that he knew definitively.

"Ak'anpu," he answered after a moment's thoughts.

"It is a nice name," you said, bringing your lips to a glass contraption. With one flame on the other end, you breathed in deeply, exhaling thick clouds of smoke that easily outweighed the smoke of incense already flooding the ceiling.

"What is that?" Ahk asked with a groan as he brought himself to sit up, forcing your cat to jump off his middle.

"Shemet. I get it at the markets, by the river. It is good to sleep and calm down. Want to try?" You offered the tool to him.

"Sure," he said, though he was fairly certain he'd already had this before, and that you were simply pronouncing the name strangely.

From the taste alone he recognized it as something he and Piye had used extensively at some points. It didn't pair well with beer, which he knew from experience, so he took only one more puff before handing it back to you with a quiet 'thank you'.

"I must get home to my father, he's –" he tried to stand, falling back down when he tripped over his own feet. "He's gonna want to see me in the morning."

"You are a little... drunk to be seeing a father yet," you said, a grin tugging at your lips.

"That you are most certainly 'bight'," he said as he, again, attempted to stand.

When he nearly caught his head in one of your hanging scarves, you jumped to your feet, grabbing his arm and pulling his whole body back before he ran into it. He stumbled backwards, spinning around just in time to catch himself on the wall with you in front of him.

"Oh..." he stuttered, a warmer blush filling his head as he looked down at you. "I'm.. sorry."

But you just laughed, much harder than the times you had before, till a dark flush built in your creased cheeks, stark against your bright eyes.

"You are funny. It is alright," you said, patting his bare chest. "I don't think I trust you will get home safe."

"Is this because I'm drunk?" He asked in a teasing tone, leaning in closer with his own cocky smile. For a moment he worried your hand on his chest would feel the thundering of his heartbeat.

"It is because you are stupid," you said, ducking out from his grip and pulling the necklace from Panya's neck, handing it to him.

You took his hand in yours, carefully leading him out of your home without wrecking any of it. The ascent over the crates was a little more clumsy than usual, but in the end you both landed safe back in the regular streets of Memphis, the temple of Osiris to your right and the palace to your left.

"Which way is your home?" You asked, looking up at him after you confirmed it to be a vacant street.

"Easy there," he said as he raised his hands defensively. "I'm – can't go home this.. like this. I'm gonna go down to the Nile, and... I'm going to wash up."

"They say not to go by yourself," you said, following him when he turned to the right. "Dangerous animals."

"More guidelines than rules, really," he said as he shambled along. "And I have you now, d–don't I?"

"If fish eat your ass, I am not saving you," you said with a certainty.

Ahkmen spluttered into a laugh.

"What?" You asked, your own smile growing as you watched him, confused.

"Don't – don't ever say that again. Don't talk about anything eating ass," he said through a massive grin.

Once the two of you reached the river, which didn't take long at all, Ahkmen stripped himself of his garments, setting aside his jewelry in a neat row on the banks. His mother's necklace he set on his clothes, making sure not to dirty it in any way.

"It is funny how you Egyptians do this," you said, perching on one of the boulders present.

"Do what?" He asked, looking over his bare shoulder. Your eyes darted up from staring at something lower.

"Wash in the river."

"Not everyone does," he said, kneeling in the water. "A lot have small pools in their homes. Mostly the rich, I guess. Everyone else just bathes here."

"Maybe I am just... not knowing much about being without many clothes," you attempted to translate, the words clearly spinning in your head. You looked to him to see if he understood you.

"That I can see," he said, bringing the water over his legs and chest, trailing up to his face. "You've got quite a style. Very.. colorful. It looks expensive."

"I make my own clothes," you said with a small, but proud smile.

"You're a seamster?"

"I am many things."

"So I've seen," he chuckled. "How do you know so many things?"

"I had to learn. I had to teach me, from what I could see my family doing," you said, your feet wagging back and forth from the boulder's height. "I get not many people who.. who buy. But I have many things. I think it helps."

"Impressive," he said softly as he returned to washing himself.

By dunking his whole head into the cool water, he hoped to return more of his senses to himself, and with it his more prolific words. He didn't need drunken sentences messing up your understanding of him further. Besides, it was hard enough on its' own to try and piece together your own sentences that were jargled and brambled words of what you'd picked up in Memphis.

"Are you ready to go?" You asked after having fidgeted for several minutes, now letting your head hang upside-down off the rock.

"I suppose so," he said, rising to his feet. "I think I can probably bathe more once I get home. And if not, the morning will come, and I can wash then."

As spiritual an experience as it was to bathe in the lifeblood of Egypt, Ahkmen couldn't deny he missed the lavender soaps and gentle oils massaged and soaked into the skin.

He stumbled his way back to shore, slipping easily on the slick mud beneath him, making up the fertile silt of the Nile. You laughed from your vantage point, knocking your head back with the loudest belt of a laugh he'd ever heard. It was made especially amusing by the fact that such noise could come from someone so small. By the third time he slipped, though, you spared a little pity and climbed down from your tower to help him.

"You are funny," you said with the brightest grin he'd seen, offering him your hand with a long reach in an attempt to keep your shoes clean. Unlike Ahk's, they were made of a sort of fabric.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his legs shaky from his laughter and yours. "This doesn't usually happen."

He reached forward, setting his hand into yours, and allowing you to direct him forward. To your unfortunate surprise––though, still, very amused surprise––his weight ended up pulling both of you down, slipping into the shallow reaches of the river.

"Oh Gods," he said as he resurfaced. "I am so sorry, I -"

Your clothes, and you, were then soaked in both water and mud that easily stained to the palms of your hands as you hauled your heavy clothes out of the river. Wide eyes looked to him, your mouth open in surprise. He cringed backwards, a horribly apologetic look on his face as he watched you stand, shaking your body to test your new weight.

Glancing around your legs, midsection, and arms, you found mud dug into your elbows, your knees, around your hips, and all across your shoulders.

You laughed. Relief flooded him upon the sight of your smile, covering your mouth with a dirty hand.

"Don't we look like a dream?" You giggled.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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trixicbean · 4 years

Text

"That one," Kara had whispered under her breath when they were out on a walk.

"What?" Lena had turned to ask her.

"Oh, I always play a game with myself when we are surrounded my beautiful houses," Kara had smiled, "I pick the one I would buy if I had infinite money so that one," Kara had shrugged pointing at the house.

It was cottagecore in a nutshell in the middle of nowhere on the outksirts of California and Lena could see why Kara loved it. It was close to Yosemite and Lake Tahoe, a towering green valley and stunning lake with beaches, you couldn't really beat the views anywhere else. Lena had turned to look what the view might be the from the house and let out a small gasp when she did see the view.

"Lena?" Kara's voice had been filled with concern, "Are you okay?".

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lena had answered absentmindedly as she had looked back at the house. She could see her life there.

She still could when she had snuck back a week later to have a proper look.

It was the only house for a half a mile but it was still close to a school and supermarket.

The roof wasn't thatched but tiled, kind of a Tudor style home with the faded black and white striped pannelling that ran around the house, the stripes perpendicular to the floor. The top floor lying out on a overhang to the bottom and around three or four chimneys. Ivy grew up part of the front along side a rose bush but it had been trimmed back to frame the door and window. The door had already been framed by a porch to with two steps up from the huge gravel driveway. The garden was covered in flowers, all neatly trimmed and it was huge, spanning a lot of the countryside it was surrounded by.

At the bottom of the garden there was a shed, overrun by plants and almost in disrepair but it could be something. Lena could see her and Kara working in there as a break from the house. Maybe even a lab or a play area for kids. Maybe Lena was thining for far into the future.

She had noticed the for sale sign outside though. One call to the estate agent and week later she had been going back, under a fake name, looking around inside.

It didn't disappoint There were bookshelves built into almost every wall. The kitchen had an aga as well as a new stove and it was huge with a dining room in the same area and windows which opened up into a garden and just through a door was the living room, stretching from one side of thr house to the other with windows on both sides. There could be room for so much. To the back of the kitchen was a utility room which led into the garage. Off the hallway, through the door under the stairs, was a study too as well as a toilet. Upstairs, there were five bedrooms and three bathrooms as well as a small balcony off the master. She also discovered the pond at the bottom of the garden which was fed by a small waterfall Lena was in love.

She'd bid on it the next day anonymously and soon it was in her name. She didn't tell anyone and only maintained herself until a year and a half later when she and Kara had married.

She and Kara had been talking about upgrading for a while but they had never done it. So after there honeymoon she had bundled Kara into a car and driven out, claiming it was a surprise and throwing a blindfold on her wife as soon as they were close.

Now, she was just sitting there, her car parked, overthinking.

"Are we here?" Kara's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah," Lena smiled, relief filling her as she looked over and saw Kara's smile, "Let me just help you out of the car, one sec," she got out herself and went to Kara's door opening it and offering her hand to help her wife out.

"Where are we?" Kara asked as she climbed out holding Lena's arm tightly.

"Just trust me for one more second," Lena smiled.

"Always," Kara flashed Lena a dopey smile as led Kara around the car so she could stand her so she looked directly at the house.

"Okay," Lena breathed, "You can take the blindfold off,".

Kara was quick and she gasped as she looked at the house before her face morphed to confusion and she turned to look at Lena.

"Why are we at a dream house?" she laughed nervously.

"A couple of years ago we were walking near here," Lena took a deep breath as she spoke.

"I remember," Kara smiled.

"Well, you might not remember that you pointed at this house and whispered 'that one' before explaining the dream house game to me," Lena continued and Kara's smiled widened.

"How do you remember that?" she laughed before the laughter stopped and she looked between Lena and the house a few times, the realisation coming over her.

"It was for sale," Lena shrugged, "So I bought it,".

Kara stood there speechless for just a second before Lena found herself being picked up and spun around as the sound of Kara's laughter filled the air.

"I can't believe you did this," Kara whispered as she slowly lowered Lena to the ground again, their faces inches away from each other.

"Of course I did," Lena smiled, "Like you said it's a dream house,".

"Rao, I love you," Kara laughed as she met Lena's lips in a kiss.

"I love you too," Lena smiled as Kara pulled away to look at her again, her eyes filled with the familiar love. Lena reached into her back pocket and grabbed the set of keys, handing them to Kara.

"Rao, I can't believe you," Kara murmured as she looked at them.

"Look inside," Lena smiled excitedly, pushing Kara toward the door.

"Okay," Kara laughed, grabbing Lena's hand and pulling her with her, looking around at the surroundings as she did.

"Do we have any neighbours?" Kara asked.

"There's a village with a school and supermarket that way," Lena pointed to the East.

"A school, huh?" Kara teased as she slid the key into the lock. (Their kids did end up going there.)

#this was written by a history geek who studied houses at one point if u can't tell #katie mcgrath #supercorp #lena luthor #lesbian #kashy mcgra #kara danvers #wlw #supergirl #melissa benoist #kara x lena #lena x kara #supercorp fic #avery writes

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kaetastic · 4 years

Text

SHIRT

pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

summary: Reader falls asleep in Luca’s clothes [requested: @supermegapauselouca]

warning: fluff and twinge of mild angst (if you squint)

word count: 2k

note: i’m so sorry for the late delay, i was feeling a bit drowsy lately and my naps are equal to an average sleep lol. i hope this is fine! thank you for the request! stay safe and take care!

Through the hazy glass panes, smears of silvery light seeped through as if they were blaring blades slashing through a colossal field of towering weeds. Flakes of dust danced in the air, swinging and tangling with the rays of the radiant moon; the night sky as their backdrop and faded noise of a bustling city as their record player.

Despite the trusty cleaners who have worked years for the owners of the house, there was always a crevice unseen to the human eye. Although their brooms might brush over the patent strings of clumped up clouds of dust, the civilians have remained in unseen valleys. Lingering in the air were particles of dust which swirled with the scent of liquors, which tangled with a coquettish grin.

Even though the moon was patent with its sombre rays of fluorescent light, chattering cars and sighing exhausts trickled in the night. Against the persistent alarm, the moon proceeded to imply and urge people to find warmth in slumber. With a croaked exhale, the light tickled her fluttering eyelashes; clearly winning the battle. The sheets that began to warm nudged her leg to caress against a colder patch as beads of glistening sweat began to smear against her body.

Although a major part of her had expected the other half of the bed to be frigid and empty, a tangle of hope had strung. The rope that used to be as colossal as those to hold the ships to port, had begun to loosen. A faint sigh of disappointment smeared against her lips when her hand was met with chilly air that curled the sheets into a clump.

Even though she had already comprehended the situation, her eyes fluttered open. To be met with the absence of her lover. Staring at the pillow he would use to sleep upon, her fingers brushed the indentation he had left from the early morning. He had yet to return. Luca might not be present, but his scent remained; although, it lingered a toned-down concentration due to his early rise in the bright sunrise.

A blurry haze of colours plastered at the back, on the wooden side table as if mosaic tiles, mismatched to concoct a palette. Finally mustering all of her energy she had regained from the deep slumber, she pushed herself to snatch the card that accompanied the bouquet of the pink flowers. As her eyes wandered over the scribbled words with familiar handwriting, her fingers brushed over the edges of the sleek card.

Better put these up on display. Matteo had to delay the closing of a florist. –Luca

A chuckle echoed in the still air which seeped out of the minuscule crack of the door; into the hallway. Wrapped in a translucent beige tone of crêpe paper, a white string was wrapped around the neck of all the flowers, lazily, yet, it seemed intentional and perfect. The shy flowers were timid, their hands covered their faces. Stains and blotches of yellow-painted some frayed edges, while some remained innocently, pure pink.

Her eyes begun to adjust to the backdrop. Y/N’s eyes flickered to the streak of yellow running on the wooden floor, blaring to only caress a mountainous peak at the cupboard that sat oppositely to the door. It managed to tiptoe into the room from the corridor. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who was here?

Being part of Luca’s life had offered its inconveniences that some could not be able to adjust to; however, she had learnt and forced herself to grow accustomed to these points. There wasn’t a second that had passed before her fingers had tugged the Luca’s drawer, to grip around a pistol. His Italian accent which swam in his English trickled in her ears as if silk. Use this, just don’t shoot me.

As soon as her toes had peeked out of the blanket, she was out of the comfort of the warm bed. All she wanted to do was bury herself under the blankets she found solace in from the lonely days. Her only constant and present accompany. Kisses of freezing snowflakes bit into the soles of her feet, numbing her towards the icy path towards the light as if a frozen lake.

Swirling around her exposed leg, the nightgown she had worn did not bother to cover much of her skin as the hem of the silky peach rested on her thighs if she was to tiptoe, the frigid air caused bumps to salute, greeting with discipline. With a faint, not so much, creak, the door cried as it tried its best to not confide her awakening presence.

After the soles of her feet could no longer pass the electricity stabbing of the frozen ground, her arms were agile to scour around the office as soon as she entered the room. There was no one. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she breathed in the calming signature smell of Luca’s office.

The mahogany table that resided in the middle of the room, over a rich, red, Turkish carpet, was surrounded by palatial bookshelves that had been filled with books that could kill with a hurl, Y/N was sure she had never seen the Italian graze his hand over a page. Not once had he bothered to read the books whose spines were as large as her palm. It was a method for him to intimidate guests.

The bookshelves towered until its head had brushed over the ceiling, just like Luca’s head at the low door at his mother’s house. Splattered against the table were sheets of paper while stacks of them had been piled in one corner; a random object of choice thrown over the stack to ground it.

She chuckled once she realized it was a small trinket she had purchased for him. It was a miniature ceramic cat whose tummy laid against the ground, stretching extensively. She had bought it while she had sauntered down the road. Although it was not on her list of things she needed, she had found it amusing. What a gift to give to the leader of a mafia. Y/N assumed the papers displayed on the desk were of no use as the man would not risk anything by doing such a careless act.

Her thumb snapped the lamp off, switching off the only available light source in the room. The smear of yellow that radiated the room was engulfed in pitch black with streaks of grey from the two windows. Sometimes, she wondered how he could tolerate the strain of his eyes to such low, dim light.

No matter how many times she had insisted or offered the idea to install better lightings, the mobster hadn’t budged. Days she would consider casual would be finding him perched on his creaking seat while his hands jotted down so quickly, it seemed as if the memory would spring out of his head.

Thrown over his chair was a plain dress shirt. It seemed he was in a hurry as the clothing was close to the edge to meet with the ground. As she chewed on her bottom lip, she contemplated if it was a good idea. The gentle cloth engulfed her fingers. It had still smelt like him. A linger of whiskey swirled in with the toned-down cologne he would spray an obnoxiously large amount onto himself. He wouldn’t mind, he has a sole closet dedicated to his dress shirts.

With a swift movement, the sleeves entrapped her arms, defending her from the cold breeze. A good few inches had elongated from her fingers, the hem stooped below her nightgown. The closest she’ll get with Luca for the night.

After she placed the gun back, she stumbled back into the heated sheets. Her eyes shut tight as the collar grazed over her nose. The smell of him was stronger on the shirt than that of the bed. If only he had been there.

The Italian let out a muffled grumble that had been a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. Although he had hoped the locked front door would block him off from all the pending works and meetings, the presence of his office had rested with stacks of vital work. All of them were equally important; he hated it.

As his hand ran down his face, he flicked the wooden match that had been chopped in his lips. The butt of the stick possessed permanent scars from his teeth that had bitten into it. Damn cops. It landed on the marble counter with a clash before the still air engulfed the sound.

Exhaustion drowned over his muscles, seeping through his tissues with dread, the need for sleep lingered in his eyes. It had been mentioned a couple of times. Scratch that, everyone had brought it up. From his mother to the bellboy.

Glancing at the window that towered over the rest of the city with its graph-like buildings, a smear of the sun against the blue sky teased him. It taunted him. It reminded him that he had not slept through the night while it did.

Without a second wasted, he yanked off his coat, followed by the jacket and his vest which had begun to suffocate him. Tugging his tie as he thought about the commotion that had happen on a port was enough to rip his neck, he hurled it haphazardly as if throwing a ball for a dog to fetch. Who knew where it had landed. The clanking of his shoes met with the wooden floor. A mess Y/N would scold him for; a mess he will have to clean up.

Passing his office, his fingers gripped around the wavy doorframe to gaze at the room. He rummaged through the tight pocket of his trousers to tug out a sheet of crumpled paper that had been given to him with importance.

Luca let out a scoff before hurling it onto his desk. Even though he had few dealings that need to be checked, most of them are minor issues, but here he was, having to be the one to handle the problem with infant gangs who had risen in the city of New York.

A battle in his head roared, his eyes grazed over the polished table that sang a voice in his head. He turned around. If he was to accomplish work and complete them with perfection because that is how he liked to do things, he would need sleep.

Dragging himself to his bedroom, his fingers rubbed into his eyes, stabbing the orbs back in its socket. He nearly stumbled on his steps when his eyes grazed over the resting figure that slumbered peacefully. Her shoulders heaved up and down, the previous dress shirt he had worn had been draped over her shoulder.

Taking the whole of the bed, Y/N’s head plunged in the middle of the two pillows. She had left him only a small amount of space to sleep, or curl in a ball. Although he knew that he should’ve jumped to the shower before jumping in bed, he didn’t have enough energy to even run the water.

After shoving his suspender onto his side table, followed by the clanking of his golden rings that had engraved an indent into his fingers, marking him, he finally could breathe as only one layer covered his body.

“I don’t have space.” Luca’s silvery words fell into her snoozing ears. As his fingers clutched around her silky nightgown under his shirt, his thumb caressed her waist. He assumed that she had fallen asleep, however, it was proved wrong once a vague ‘mhm’ was uttered out of her lips. Without disrupting her slumber, he laid beside her, legs weaved and tangled like an irritating lock of hair.

“You smell.” A chuckle fell off his lips, his large hand splayed against her back, pulling her into his arms. With his chin propped on her head, his arms around her waist, he breathed in the sense of ease. This is home.

“Want to get in the bath with me?” A series of giggles and laughter echoed in the rising morning as the two-paced their routine, not bothered to sync with that of the pacing world.

#luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta oneshot #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta imagines #luca changretta oneshots

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unstoppableforcce · 4 years

Text

golden

CHAPTER ONE: simplicity

pairing: Poe Dameron x oc! Anya

next part | masterlist | oc art

a/n: this is set before the Force Awakens and is a rewrite and expansion of one of my first fics. it’s a big one, this part is 6.7k which might be the longest thing i’ve ever written lol, but i love my oc and the relationships and the plot of this, i hope yall do too bc i can’t wait to write more!!!

He had forgotten how beautiful the galaxy could be.

Before him, through the clear windshield of the dilapidated transport ship, laid an expanse of towering mountains of green, thick like the jungles of Yavin IV he knew so well, and vast like the breath of the galaxy he was only beginning to familiarize himself with. In the valleys that sat between the intimidating heights of the jungle were ponds and lakes, illuminated by the contrast of their soft pink hue and the sunlight from three suns beating down on them overhead. And within each jaw-dropping landscape they flew over, the lanky jungle trees stretched high and interwoven with each other and the depths of the gentle pink lakes, he caught glimpses of the hidden civilization.

Stone buildings of dark brown granite hidden beneath the twisted green vines and thick, overgrown tree trunks, windows of reflective glass cascading like waterfalls built back into the shape of the mountains. From as high as they were, flying above in the shaky transport ship, he could make out the movement of the people through the trees and on wooden crescent boats out in the milky pink water of the lake, working as the suns bore down on their backs.

Flying in his X-wing, he had mission objectives and responsibilities. He travelled from point A to point B and never lingered in one place for longer than he needed to, not with the First Order patrols cracking down across the galaxy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had travelled so slow, the last time he got to truly see the colors of the universe around him which normally passed in hyperspeed blurs.

He had forgotten how beautiful the galaxy could be.

“Wow…” the awe fell from his lips unconsciously as his eyes stayed wide, scanning the horizon not only out of necessity given their flight path, but because he couldn’t look anywhere else. The D’Qar jungle was said to be beautiful, as beautiful as this, but for the past months he had been tasked with growing their new base there, he saw the inside of buildings and the burn of haunting fluorescent lights more than he did the real greenery and sunlight.

It was… breathtaking to say the least.

“I thought I misremembered,” the calm and collected voice of the General sounded off over his shoulder as he slowed his speed to navigate a lofty bit of cloud cover that surrounded the tops of the mountainous valleys he navigated between. “I convinced myself somehow that no place in the galaxy could be as beautiful as I remembered but I was wrong.”

He couldn’t blame her. If he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes as his hands gripped tight to the controls of the ship, he wasn’t sure he would have believed it either.

Waterfalls of the lightest pink hue, the sparkling of the natural granite deposits in the rock which shined equally as bright as the city construction as they continued over it, the polished rock made into skyscrapers which rivaled the surrounding mountains in height, the natural overgrowth of green vines and thick canopy tree tops… the more he saw, the more Poe found himself overwhelmed by the beauty.

“How far until the palace?” He hummed with a brief quirk of his jaw back over his shoulder to Leia as his eyes stayed trained on the intricate habitational design and fields woven between towering structures which shadowed over smaller homes which led to more fields and rivers, rocks and jungle.

“Not far, it’s impossible to miss.”

It hadn’t made sense at that moment, but he refrained from asking her to expand, trusting that whatever she meant would be clear to him as they kept going. Within the following minute, his trust proved itself.

The nose of the ship lifted slightly to get them over a particularly tall mountain top, and as the clouds cleared away while he nosed back into the valley below, he found the most gorgeous architectural and natural displays he had ever laid his eyes on. Built, like the hidden structures he had seen earlier, into the most commanding mountain of sparkling brown granite in the landscape before him, the palace was a delicate, yet proud masterpiece with spires as high as the clouds and a bustling marketplace pouring out the front of it, spilling towards the shore of the pink ocean before it.

Banners of colors brighter than he even knew existed fluttered in the wind coming in off the coast throughout the marketplace, and as he brought the ship in to a stop at the surrounding rim of the mountain above the palace’s top spires where all the other ships sat, he began to notice the vibrant crowd which flowed from the boats in the water all the way through the palace gates. He loved his home with all his heart, but this was the most beautiful place in the galaxy. It had to be.

He and Leia quickly unloaded from the non-descript ship, and Poe made sure to leave his blaster secure in the cockpit as Leia had instructed him earlier, taking only his jacket and communicator with him. A jacket he quickly realized he would not be needing as the two of them stepped out amongst the ships atop the mountain and felt the overwhelming heat from the suns above them.

“Don’t be too in awe, we are here for a reason.” He glanced back from where he stood near the edge of the flattened mountain top to see Leia stood as regal as ever with her hands linked behind her back and her stare that of a careful mother. “An important reason,” she minded once more and he had no choice but to nod.

As he reluctantly pulled away from teh edge and joined her at her side while they drew closer to the nearby lift and the mindlessly chatting guards stood around it, he couldn’t help but voice the one thought he couldn’t get out of his mind,“I can’t imagine a place like this ever allying with the First Order.”

With a voice lowered closer to that of a whisper while they passed the guards, Leia carefully minded him again, “There is a complicated history to Haiki, as beautiful as it is.”

“All the briefing memo said was that they were great allies during the war, pacifists, but great allies.” He responded in an equally hushed tone until the doors to their lift shut and they began descending deep into the dark, sparkling rock. “You said their leader was a friend.”

“Their King and Queen were friends of mine while I was still living on Alderaan and fighting with the rebellion, unfortunately the queen died shortly after the Empire fell and their king has been sick for almost as long.” She explained as the thick walls of granite passed quickly by them as they continued to descend.

“Who are we here to meet with then?”

The lift came to a stop at the bottom and the doors opened to a dense crowd of people, all dressed in vibrant colors of thick woven fabric, skin decorated with thick strokes of black ink in intricate designs that varied from body to body. But as much as Poe wished to step forward and immerse himself into the lively crowd of the market, Leia’s firm grip on the elbow of his jacket pulled him in the opposite direction, towards an open doorway outlined by beautiful branches and bright flowers as her words quickly pulled him back to the reality of their mission there.

“We’re meeting with the Princess,” Leia answered as they continued down the hall illuminated by windows which brought cascades of bright light into the halls as they travelled in a direction which seemed to Poe as if it were going deeper into the rock of the mountain. “I’ve met her before, but she was young, now she runs the whole planet and, from what I can tell, is not as eager about our alliance as her parents were.”

“You think she’s fielding threats from the First Order? You said they were pacifists--”

“It’s not about weapons or defense, it’s about supplies.” Leia sighed as the two of them came to a halt in the middle of the hallway, allowing the few locals who were walking behind them to pass in front and leave them alone with the bright sunlight. “We need their support, the medicine they create, the food they grow… If we don’t get it, I don’t know how much longer we can survive.”

Poe nodded, his overgrown curls bouncing with the nod of his head as he glanced around the empty hall and began pulling his jacket off his already sweat-slicked back.

He knew they were there for support, but the briefing memo had been vague on purpose. No one else could know they were there, no one could know why they were there. If there was a leak, if the First Order somehow found out that the Resistance was reliant on Hakian support to survive, they’d decimate the entire planet, strip mine them for their resources and slaughter their peaceful population.

He trusted their people, and he knew Leia did too, but he also understood why he had to be kept in the dark until now. This was just too important.

“When we get in to see her, you’ll call her only ‘princess’ or ‘dekka’, never by her first name unless she gives you permission. And make sure you keep your distance, be respectful,” Leia warned as they slowly began walking again, turning a corner and entering another well-lit hall still travelling deeper into the mountain it seemed. “They are sticklers for tradition here and we can’t afford to play around.”

“What does ‘dekka’ mean?”

“Respected one.” She answered quickly, keeping her voice close to him as another person came into view at the end of the hall.

The man towered just like the mountains they flew through did, taller than any human man Poe had seen in person, nearly wookie height if he was being honest. But there was nothing intimidating about him, he merely flashed a bright smile and opened his arms in a welcoming stance.

“Princess Leia, it is an honor to see you again.” The man bellowed out, meeting them at the end of the hall where it let out into a gorgeous room of tall ceilings and windows that stretched from the polished granite floor all the way up to the tallest rafters of twisted vine and tree root, letting in an electric amount of natural light.

Leia quickly unlinked her hands from behind her back and wrapped them around the man, who stood at nearly twice her height, in a solid embrace. “Elias, it’s an honor to see you as well.”

“I had no idea you were coming, whatever can I help you with?” His thick accent continued to cut through the air, louder than Leia could muster by several dozen decibels. His command over the basic language wasn’t too strong, but he certainly made up for his shortcomings with heart and confidence.

However, no amount of strength of heart could overwrite the confusion outlined by his words, leaving an unsettling feeling in Poe’s gut. Judging by the slight deflation in Leia’s commanding stance, it was clear he wasn’t the only one.

“No idea…” Leia chuckled nervously, trailing off with a brief shake of her braids. “We were meant to meet with Dekka Anya-Va, is she not here?”

Elias’ chuckle was equally as unsettled, something was wrong.

“She hasn’t been in all day,” he added as another rough chuckle escaped his lips, “I didn’t know she had schedule, she didn’t tell me…”

Seven hours. That’s how far away Haiki was from D’Qar when travelling as fast as possible in the only non-resistance ship available, an old, deteriorating transport ship. He spent seven hours behind the controls on a trembling, shaking ship, and the Princess they were supposed to be meeting with to secure necessary supplies for the resistance was not there? Was this some kind of joke?

If it was, he didn’t find it very funny.

Leia glanced back over her shoulder, finding the waiting confusion that covered Poe’s face and turned back to Elias wearing a very similar look. “She hasn’t been in at all?”

“She’s been… cutting me off, isolating herself from her advisors… I don’t know…” He stuttered over each and every word, clearly pulling them from a particularly painful place in his chest.

And on any other day, Poe might have cared about the way the towering man’s intimidating voice trembled in his explanation. The overwhelmingly empathetic heart that beat steadily in his chest was accustomed to feeling for anyone from anywhere across the galaxy, but in this moment, the weight of the resistance was too apparent on his shoulders.

If Leia said they needed this Princess to save the resistance, then that was that. They needed this Princess, and hearing that she was circumventing her advisors as much as she was avoiding their meeting only increased the nerves in his unsettled stomach.

“You are welcome to wait for her in the throne room, I will send her your way whenever I find her…” Elias made a desperate attempt to relight the smile that had fallen from Leia’s diplomatic lips, but it only succeeded somewhat, as much as Leia could muster, feeling the same weight that Poe felt sitting heavy on her shoulders.

“Thank you, Elias.” Leia bowed her head, and Elias quickly did the same.

But the second Leia turned away from him and began nudging Poe back in the direction they came from, her diplomatic disposition fell away, returning her harsh, commanding stare.

“She’s avoiding us?” Poe was quick to question as their pace hastened back down the brightly illuminated halls leading back to the busy marketplace.

Leia shook her head, keeping her voice low as the two of them walked, shoulder to shoulder. “Remember when you asked if I thought she was fielding First Order threats already? I think we just got our answer.”

“What do we do?”

As the two of them entered back out into the dense crowd of the marketplace, Leia gave a brief shrug, still tugging him along with her as she fought against the flow of tattooed people. “Now, we have to find her.”

“Do you know where to look?”

The stare Leia gave him was one he was all too familiar with. It was the same look he got when he asked questions about procedure he already knew the answer to, the same look he got when he asked questions he knew she wouldn’t answer. It was a look that meant one thing. The simplest answer, the easier answer, the obvious one that was punching him directly in the face, was the answer he should be looking for.

And with Leia, when it came to asking if she knew anything, the answer was without a doubt, a resounding ‘yes’.

Following the banners, each one a color more vibrant than the last, Leia continued to push him through the marketplace. As they exited the front gate of the palace, the market grew impossibly larger and the crowd more dense, every soul moving with a specific purpose, from stall to stall with shoulders carrying heavy bags and faces bright with electric smiles.

Poe couldn’t remember the last time he saw so many smiles in such a densely packed region.

The sun was beating down hot on his back, slicking his curls to his forehead in a light coating of sweat, but everyone around him seemed oblivious to it, either too distracted by the spices piled high in the booths, wafting a plethora of new scents around the beautiful square, or the swaths of fabrics covered in intricate stitches and designs. Was this what life was like where the war didn’t touch?

People could walk around, fully immersed in their own vibrant culture wearing smiles brighter than the multiple suns which hung above them, seemingly without a care in the world when it came to the slaughtering and genocide happening around the galaxy at the hands of the First Order? Did they even know?

Did the parents who let their kids run around with tightly woven baskets piled high with spiky blue fruit even know about the children across the galaxy who were stolen from their families and conscripted as nameless troopers? Did the elderly who sat off to the side even know that just last week, a village of respected elders on Nantoo were mowed down indiscriminately by First Order officers looking to set up base on their sacred land? Did any of them even know about the war?

If he lived here, maybe he could understand it. Maybe…

But Stars, was ignorance really bliss when millions were being slaughtered?

“I knew she’d be here…” Leia sighed, pulling Poe’s attention back to her pursuit as the market began to thin out closer to the pink translucent shore packed with crescent shaped boats of dark wood unloading at the docks. He didn’t know where to let his stare fall however, the water immediately took his attention, but as Leia kept walking, he fought to both find her stare and follow it in the same direction.

The shore wasn’t packed, but there were just enough bodies to keep him guessing even as he followed Leia’s focus. Where was she looking--

He found her.

Nothing had changed, he still didn’t know exactly where Leia’s stare was directed nor did he have any verbal confirmation that he was looking in the right direction, but he was sure of himself, overwhelmingly sure of himself as his stare landed on the detailed tattoos that covered the back of the lone woman sat on the damp shore, isolated from the crowd.

The thin interwoven fabric of the maroon dress that cascaded down her form was exquisite in it’s intricately stitched details, but nothing compared to the thick, jet black ink stripes that crested over her back and arms, the extent of the skin he could see from the angle they were approaching with. Everyone he had seen so far on this planet had some form of similar markings, be it extensive designs sprawling up their arms or small delicate images drawn on their hands or necks, but none compared to what he saw on her skin.

It was like the dark ink was woven around her, like a vine crawling it’s way up a tree. Or maybe more aptly, it was a web, drawn by a diligent insect or maybe even claw marks from a creature, thick where the wounds ran the deepest and thin at the start and ends of each mark.

Haiku itself was one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy, but the woman before him was more beautiful than even that.

It took an elbow in the side from Leia to snap him back to reality.

“Why don’t you let me do most of the talking, yeah?” She countered, a knowing quirk to her brow as she nudged him again with her elbow.

He wanted to argue back but Leia had already begun walking ahead of him and the second he moved to catch up, a large guard stepped up to block their path.

This man was tall, like Elias back in the palace was, but he didn’t wear his intimidating height the same way. He was much broader in the shoulders, much wider in his stance, effectively blocking any line of sight either Poe or Leia had towards the princess. Yet unlike Elias, there was no friendly greeting, no real acknowledgement at all besides his narrowed scowl down towards the two of them.

For a planet of self-proclaimed pacifists, Poe wasn’t really feeling at peace.

Not until the soft hum of her voice flowed in from the gentle lull of the shore. “It’s alright, Xia, let them through.”

The wall of a man quickly stepped aside on her orders, revealing the exhausted collapse of her shoulders while she began to pull herself back up to her feet. The languid pull of her muscles was obvious with the delicate cut of the maroon dress across her skin, which contrasted the blood color of the fabric with a dark brown glow, not unlike the sparkle of the magnificent granite mountains under the overhead suns.

“Dekka Anya-Va…” Leia addressed carefully but was quickly cut off by the return of her coarse hum of a voice.

“I was hoping by not being at the palace that you would get the impression I didn’t want to meet with you,” her accent was thick, much like Elias’s but her comfort with the language was much more evident as it flowed much smoother from her lips despite the natural raspiness to her tone. It was a mesmerizing sound, complemented by the dulcet tone of the gentle waves, making it something he could easily get lost in if it wasn’t for his ability to still hear the words for what they were.

Condescending. Nearly mocking if he was being honest. It just didn’t sit well with him, not when directed towards Leia.

“We got the impression, we just ignored it,” Leia countered, pushing her careful tone to the side in favor of the tone she used when addressing her Commanders, a tone that commanded respect, even if the Princess seemed too aloof to provide it.

She let out a rugged chuckle at that, jagged at the edges where it seemed to have fought through her throat and out from her perfectly shaped lips. “We…” she hummed, “I wasn’t aware you were bringing friends.”

The pointed tips of her words were sent like daggers with her stare as she turned from Leia to where Poe stood right beside her, hands linked behind his back and still holding his jacket in a tight grip. But as personal an assault it seemed, when he opened his lips to respond, Leia was quick to cut him off.

“I--”

“This is my pilot, Commander Dameron.”

As unamused as the princess seemed to be, she still did a lot of stone-faced laughter, and that theme held true as her stare held on Poe’s furrowed and focused face. “Does the Commander have a first name?”

With a quick glance to Leia, then back to the Princess, he finally spoke for himself, answering “Poe,” simply.

He didn’t know what he thought throwing his name into the conversation would add, but he couldn’t determine any reason why not to add it, not until the Princess turned her stare back to Leia and shuddered her shoulders back into a steady stance with her chin raised. “Would you mind telling Poe he can go wait by your ship, I don’t imagine it will be a long conversation.”

There it was again. Aloof, condescending, mocking even. Poe couldn’t stand it.

“Excuse me--”

“Actually, Dekka Va, I brought him so he could join our talks,” Leia explained, one of her hands shooting up quickly to keep him in place by her side as she felt the heat of his temper rise with her words.

“He doesn’t seem like he’d be much for conversation.”

He realized his natural disposition may not have been the most diplomatic, he also realized that hot-headed and cocky weren’t necessarily the best qualities for negotiating delicate alliances, but if she was allowed to talk to him with the tone she was taking, he was having a hard time understanding why Leia was keeping him silent. Why even bring him along?

It was infuriating. She was infuriating. She wouldn’t meet them in the palace, she was hiding on the beach, she was biting back with each and every one of her responses. He understood the alliance between her planet and the resistance was important, he really did, but why in the kriff was he even there--

“Dekka Anya-Va, I assure you, Poe is one of my most trusted Commanders and when our discussion eventually turns to shipment methods, he is the only one I trust for routes and numbers--” Leia began, still holding her hand out carefully in front of Poe only to drop it the second the Princess shrugged her shoulders and cut her off the same way she had been cutting Poe off.

“There will be no shipment discussions.”

“Dekka--”

“I apologize for avoiding the meeting, but it wasn’t accidental, I truly have no interest in meeting with you, General.” She continued, using the brief second they stood silent and frozen in shock to navigate around them and back towards the market.

Leia was the first to break out of it, Poe trailing behind, but he still remained quiet, holding back his boiling temper as the General continued to argue.

“It’s a rather important conversation that we need to have.”

The princess continued forward as if she barely noticed them following, and as the density of the market's population began to increase the closer they moved to the palace, she made no move to slow her careful and practiced step through the crowd to accommodate their trailing. Again, condescending and aloof.

Leia broke his train of thought again as she fought with a quickened pace to find her way to her side and continue her argument just within range of Poe’s ears. “A face-to-face meeting will allow us to discuss our deal more intimately, take away any fears you may have and--”

If she cut Leia off one more time, it wouldn’t matter that she was the most respected being on this planet, Poe wasn’t going to be able to keep quiet for much longer.

“I’m not afraid of anything, General.”

Before either Leia or Poe, with his temper steadily boiling over, could mount another argument, the princess pulled one of her guards aside, retrieving a small pouch of golden coins from him and turning back to the stall that had caught her eye in the first place. It was the stall they had passed earlier, filled with children and the spiky blue fruits which had caught his eye as he thought about the rest of the galaxy.

And it was exactly where the princess was kneeling down.

Her rough tone of voice, coated in it’s natural raspiness, flowed out much easier in her native tongue as she let a genuine smile take over her lips. The kids running the booth were bouncing out of their boots as she lowered herself to their level, and their excitement only grew as they began talking to one another in the Hakian language. It would have been heartwarming if Poe weren’t so frustrated.

He didn’t understand what they were saying and it was clear as he glanced toward Leia and saw her focused brow that she didn’t understand the words being spoken either, but from the shared interactions, he had a pretty decent idea what was transpiring.

She asked a question, the kids nervously responded, shaking their heads and trying to offer their product for free before she convinced them to accept her coin. Again, a heartwarming display that he didn’t have time for.

The sun was hot, boiling hot down the back of his neck, and the anger bubbling from within his chest was heating him up from the inside out, making the whole experience ten times worse. He didn’t need to see any heartwarming display, he needed to say something, and he was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the feeling that when he did, things wouldn’t go well.

Yet the moment seemed to be drawing closer and closer as the Princess stood back to full height with a bag full of the spiky fruit, passing her coins back to her guard. He was ready to open his mouth, to unload on her with the same hot-headed cockiness that Leia feared he would lead with, but he was again denied the chance as she silenced him by turning her back to the two of them and reentering the crowd, heading back towards the palace.

It wasn’t until they were down an isolated hallway of the palace that she turned back, opening the bag of fruit and pulling three of the spiked fruit out easily.

“Dekka--” Leia tried, but the princess silenced her, sticking one of the fruits into her hand before carelessly tossing one in Poe’s direction.

She was making a point, and they had no choice but to stand there and take it.

“This is Mewe, one of our planet’s sweetest fruits,” she hummed, holding up one of her own and turning it gently for them to admire even if all Poe could manage was a subtle roll of his eyes. “They cannot grow anywhere else, they require massive amounts of sunlight, and they are one of the most versatile fruits that exist anywhere in the galaxy, edible on their own, full of health, easily fermented, their juice can soothe sore throats and upset stomachs...”

Puncturing the tough, spiky skin with one of her nails, the vibrant teal juices began to drain quickly out of the shell, too quick for even her quick mouth to catch as she brought the fruit to her lips. The following bite she took was effortless following her brief struggle with the dripping juices, and as much as Poe hated whatever point she was trying to make with this display, as Leia followed her lead and took a bite, he had no choice but to do the same.

And as desperate as he was to stay boiling with anger when he looked at her, even with teal juices dripping down around the corner of her mouth, his mind was flooded with a delicious distraction the second his tongue touched the inner meat of the vibrant fruit. It wasn’t enough for Haiki to be the most beautiful planet in the galaxy, nor was it enough for her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in person, they also needed to have the most overwhelming natural fruits.

Each hesitant chew he took sparked flavors across his tongue, wild, exotic, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. It wasn’t just that his diet had consisted of bland ration packs for the past few years, the taste was truly sweeter and more complex than anything he had ever had on his tongue.

As much as he hated giving her the satisfaction, while he looked up from the greenish inside of the skin to find her careful stare, he could see that he was doing little to hide his overwhelming satisfaction with the flavor given her increasingly smug smirk.

“Haiki is a special place, I don’t think you realize that.” The Princess continued carefully, shifting her stare back to Leia directly.

“We do, Dekka, however--”

“I don’t think you do.” She was quick to counter. “You would have me pledge my sponsorship to your futile movement and sacrifice my planet and the millions of souls who live here to the wrath of the First Order with nothing to offer me in return. You must think my planet worthless.”

Leia shook her head, taking a brief second to swallow the rest of the fruit she held in her mouth and regain her composure in order to fight back, “We can offer your planet protection from the First Order--”

“Because that worked so well for Alderaan, Raysho, Cardota and Courtsilius?” Again, the princess, without hesitation, cut her off. And this time, Poe was done holding his tongue, the heat finally sending his anger boiling over.

“And pledging your allegiance to a sociopathic regime of murderers is preferable?”

It was exactly what Leia had feared. It was the exact reason she had tried so hard to keep him quiet. Not because she feared he would shoot and miss, but because of his tone.

Each word drenched in a level of disrespect he hadn’t earned with her, stepping over a line he didn’t even realize, but one Leia couldn’t help him back from, even as she reached up to grab hold of him to prevent his anger from carrying him closer to the Princess and making things worse.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my planet.” She held her stance even as Poe stepped up, making no move but the slight uptick of her chin as he got closer. “As a peaceful planet, we have no options to arm ourselves outside of diplomacy and the First Order is being far more convincing.”

“Whatever they’ve said is lies, you can’t seriously consider trusting them.” He spoke like a man with no knowledge of his actions, entirely oblivious to the way her guard tightened their stances the closer he got, too blinded by his anger as she continued to argue back against him.

“Because the resistance has never lied to us? Because you can be trusted implicitly on your word?”

With another step forward, eliminating any space between the two of them, Poe effectively cut Leia and her futile attempts to get him to back down out of the conversation. “What have they promised you? Safety? Isolation from the war? It’s only a matter of time before they are enslaving your people and stealing your resources--”

“They’ve promised me protection and have been nothing but cordial, unlike you and your failing resistance.” She scoffed, shaking her small bun of greying hair enough to let loose a few strands as she refused to back down. “So you’d do best to mind yourself before you overstep a boundary you can’t walk back from.”

There was a sense of finality to her tone as she ended her sentence, one Leia picked up on immediately, but even as she moved to grab more forcefully at Poe’s arm to pull him back to reality, he continued to fight his way out of it. Hot-headed, stubborn, cocky. She should have known better than to bring him along. She should have known things would go the way they were going.

“You want me to play nice? People are dying.”

Everything that happened next happened all too fast. The words came spewing from Poe’s lips and as the Princess turned away, no longer requiring herself to be subject to his cruel intonation, he reached out and grabbed her arm before he could be stopped.

In the back of his mind, he could still hear the echoing warning Leia had provided him, telling him to keep his distance and speak with nothing but respect, but the flashes of war echoing in his head and the fire burning in his chest were crackling too loud for anything else to matter. A part of him knew it was out of line, that same part of him was begging for him to stop, and yet his hand still found the smooth, tattooed skin of her forearm, holding her in place as she moved to turn away in frustration.

Leia took a strong hold on the sweat-soaked back of his shirt and yanked him back, but the damage had already been done. “Stand down, Dameron,” she tried out but by the time he released her arm, the guards had already descended upon him, gripping him by each arm and kicking the backs of his legs in to drop him to his knees.

“I think the damage has been done, General.” Her voice was firm in her resolve and equally firm as her language switched and her tongue released a flurry of orders towards the guards who held the stubborn, fighting Dameron on his knees.

“What the kriff-- I barely touched her--” He fought as their grips grew tighter, forcing him frozen where they held him.

Leia tried again, this time not to hold Poe back but to carefully convince the princess, “Dekka Anya-Va, please…”

But her mind was made up and nothing either of them could do would change that.

“We’ll let him think himself over with a sleep in our cells,” she explained to Leia as her stare then fell back to the squirming form of the curly haired and now defenseless pilot. “You can leave with him in the morning.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, but it seems you might be.” The rough, raspiness to her tone which had been so distracting as it filtered out her accent shifted to something nearly playful, as if the whole display before her was amusing. He was being restrained by a towering guard of thick muscle on each side and she had the audacity to chuckle so plainly in his face, only making him fight more even if he knew it was futile.

Leia stepped forward carefully towards the princess but before she could muster any last defense, the princess gave a wave of her hand and the guards, with shoulders wide in intimidating bulk, heaved the fighting pilot to his feet and began backing him up, dragging him in the opposite direction.

“Dekka Anya-Va, let me apologize for his actions--”

“Mensha?” Her raspy voice interrupted the General before any real defense could leave her lips, ushering a young maid out from the small crowd which gathered around the display. “Please escort the General to a room where she can wait, give her anything she needs.”

“Dekka Anya-Va--”

“I’m not my mother, General, the sooner you learn that, the better for all of us involved.”

The long walk back into the depths of the granite palace was all too lonely as the Princess dismissed each and every member of her staff which approached her, even waving away the genuine concern on Elias’ brow and leaving him in the halls as she continued to the throne room. Her back was screaming out from the straight form she maintained with each and every step, but she held her stance and walked on, shoulders firm and chin up, just as she was taught. If anyone passed her, they had to see her as what she was, their leader.

And leaders didn’t waver, no matter how strong the vacuum of emptiness swirling within their chest was, not when there were eyes to see.

But the second the towering doors of intricate dark oak shut behind her, leaving her alone in the expansive and empty throne room, her shoulders fell in, collapsing her perfect form as her chin fell to her chest. The weight which settled there was too great, and the hollow gorge that tore through her heart was too powerful.

Did he really think it was that easy?

Her throat burned with the heat rising out of her chest and her legs grew weaker with each step until she collapsed back against the exquisite throne of dark, sparkling granite consumed by overgrown vines, the words from the hot-headed pilot echoing through her mind, latching onto every thought.

Did he think it was all that simple? Did he think she saw the blood on the hands of the First Order and so easily ignored it? Did he think it was that easy?

A sociopathic, murderous regime… did he really think she didn’t realize what they were?

The bubbling in her gut continued on as her thoughts swarmed with a buzzing around her mind and her head fell forward into her hands where her elbows rested on her knees. Her fingers made furious circles of her temples but it made no difference, his words were there, haunting her mind and inescapable.

Did they really think she didn’t know right from wrong?

With the responsibility for millions of souls resting heavy on her back, the fate of her kind in her hands, it just wasn’t as easy as good versus bad. No matter how badly she wished it was.

“Dekka Anya-Va,” the faint voice of one of her staffed maids entered her thoughts as the small woman carefully tiptoed into the room. “The prisoner is… angrily shouting for a meeting with you.”

Her back straightened on instinct, sending a shooting pain up her spine with the quick pace of the change. A pain she could barely mask with her regal tone as turned her stare towards the young woman, “we’ll leave him to calm himself down for now.”

“Of course, Dekka.”

As the door shut again, leaving her alone with her thoughts again, a sigh of insurmountable exhaustion fell from her lips and she collapsed back into the uncomfortable shape of stone.

If only things could be that simple...

tags: (open)

@cammisanders @rogueonestan @blacksquadron-rougetwo @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @trust-dreamcatcher @mistermiraclee @witchyavenger @randomness501 @buckstaposition

#poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron x oc #golden series #princess au #princess leia #general organa

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haxorus-imp · 3 years

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Planet of the Megafaunas - Part 3 - Among Us & Reader fic

-Summary-

You work as a game warden and try to make sense of what you witnessed yesterday...however, you're about to get more than you bargained for. A/N: “ I also want to say that the rangers are equally gender neutral and you can make them look like anyone you want.”

-Chapter 3: The Warden-

You let out a sluggish yawn as you rub your eye and walk into your kitchen.The early dawn sunlight shines through your kitchen window as you finish your early morning warm drink to start your day off right. So far, everything seemed to be going okay today..The only thing that was bugging you were some nagging unresolved thoughts.

Yet, you couldn’t help it.You really couldn’t shake off what you witnessed yesterday morning.

At first, everything was as normal as it could be. It was just like any other day.You got up, began your routine for work, and due to you waking up a bit earlier than usual, you decided to relax in the rocking chair on your front porch until it got a bit closer to your shift..

Then, it happened.

A large flaming object descended from the sky, followed by a trail of inky black smoke and what appeared to be burning pieces of shrapnel. You nearly spit out your drink while you watched the spectacle on your lodge’s front porch.

You kept your eyes on it and it eventually fell out of sight somewhere over the darkened horizon, a distant ‘boom’ resonating from an unknown area some miles away.You remembered the incident vividly, as it went down somewhere over the range in the distance and you hurried to get dressed and go searching for the mysterious object.At the time, many thoughts were going through your mind. A fallen satellite, a meteor, even an alien spacecraft crossed your mind. Your curiosity and concern pushed you to search for it.You spent the most of yesterday searching for the crash site.Despite you finding no evidence of the object at all yesterday, you still had a feeling that you weren’t going crazy or that you weren’t hallucinating while half asleep.

Even while being stationed up in the mountains, you were not too far from civilization enough to go crazy within a few months...let alone go crazy at all.

Yet, what you had witnessed was nothing short of baffling.

Still, being a Game Warden, you couldn’t really dwell on such a thing for too long. You had rangers, land, animals, campers, and townsfolk to oversee.

You already wasted a day by searching for the object and finding no results nor conclusions on what it was. Unfortunately, the search for it would have to be postponed until you got a day to yourself again.

Until then, it would be an unsolved mystery.

‘I’m certain I saw SOMETHING fall out of the sky yesterday...but...maybe I am just imagining things. I haven’t really found any evidence for what I witnessed anyway. But it just seemed so...real.’

You mentally mumble as you slip on your belt and holster your gun to get ready for the day. With the finishing touches being you slipping on your badge, your logo embroidered hat, and snatching up your packed lunch for the day.

You walk out of your lodge’s kitchen and into the foyer. Finally finishing with grabbing your work files on the small desk by the entrance before heading out the front door.

You exit your home and stand on the porch for a moment. The soft morning springtime winds blow the small windchimes that hang from your patio around, providing a soft jingling sound to fill the atmosphere.

You smile and turn around and with a quick turn of a key, your lodge is safely locked up. You then face away and approach your government-provided vehicle with slight disinterest. You decide to take a moment as you open your car door to take a glance at the sky. You could already see the next sunrise coming up over the snow-capped mountains. Painting the snow on the peaks a bright orange while the surrounding forest were turned into bright golden pillars.

The sunbeams were cutting through the early morning mists and the cool breeze was filling your lungs with fresh crisp mountain air.

You let out a sigh of bliss as you get into the car.

With a quick few adjustments and a turn of the keys, the car starts up and you begin to pull out and away from your home. Going towards the little town at the base of the valley for some supplies and to visit the office for your daily share of paperwork.

The drive there was primarily uneventful.

The car radio was playing music on low volume, providing some background noise. Meanwhile, the radio that was provided by the administration that you work for remained silent.

Nothing really happens in the morning...especially since lockdowns were still in effect. It made your job easier and much less hectic.

While on the way, you quietly observe the scenery as you pass by. Despite seeing it multiple times a day, you doubt you would ever get tired of looking at it.There were large meadows that spread throughout the valley. With small lakes spotted all throughout. Glittering like melted gold as the sun scattered it’s light across the surface of the distant lakes.

The horizon was populated by a healthy amount of mountains and large forests. Showing the sheer distance and the beauty of this place that you happened to have the fortune to call your home.

Eventually, the winding roads cut right through a larger mountain ridge, the road having cleaved the gritty steep slopes into two. Driving through them blocked out most of the wonderful scenery, but once they passed and a slightly distant drive later, the valley town slowly came into view.

The distant radio tower shone like a beacon over the trees and the buildings in the distance, already beginning to be bathed in the growing sunlight.

You look at the visual of the small settlement and a sense of warmth fills you up from the inside.

It didn’t look like much, but this place was all that you needed in the world. No large obnoxious corporations, noisy highways, blinding neon signs, or any disruptive construction. Just a small local town with people living peacefully with nature.You just wished everywhere was like this little town.With your growing approach towards the town, you passed over a concrete bridge that had a large waterfall putting on quite the show this morning. With a large rainbow showing up in the mists that the waterfall provided. Glowing vividly as the early morning sunlight sparkled and danced along with it in the water droplets.

You smile at the sight as you drive past, continuing on your way.

Shortly after that, you finally arrived at the outskirts of the town.

You take a brief glance at a sign you’ve seen many times before while passing through on your visits to the local settlement. It’s decorated edges and wooden charm just heightened the colorful yellow and red flowers growing at the base and gave the words on the sign their true meaning.

‘Welcome to Emberwood: A cozy little town with a heartwarming populace.’

Ah. It was always such a sight to see when you pulled into town.

You drive down the streets you practically know by muscle memory and pull into the headquarters lodge parking lot.

Once parked, you gather up your equipment, work files, packed lunch, and necessary identification before getting out of the vehicle and closing the car door.

With a brief stretch and yawn, you pull out a pen from your vest pocket and begin to finish signing some papers and reading what material you have to finish before entering the office.While working, your remaining senses catch the atmosphere of the nearby surrounding environment.

There was the smell of fresh breakfast being prepared from the nearby local diner. Along with the scent of cozy campfires filling the morning air from the nearby campgrounds. The early risers were jogging down the sidewalks for their daily exercise. Some even had the decency to wave at you while they passed by. Which you reciprocated.

The morning birds sang their songs while the wind rustled the nearby tree leaves and cooled your skin from the rising sun’s rays.You could even hear distant children already playing near the community playground and the sound of a distant dog barking. Finalizing the sense of a community surrounding you.

You wouldn’t openly admit it. But sometimes, being up in the mountains all by yourself was kinda...lonely.You take a brief glance around as you finish sorting your paperwork before approaching the office door and going inside.

With a happy greeting to the receptionist at the front desk, you hand in your paperwork, show your ID, and go to your assigned office to pick up some more papers to work on.

However, the moment you go inside and see the large stack of papers on your desk, you let out an agitated huff before walking inside and sitting down at your desk.

Knowing fully well that this was caused because of your extended absence from yesterday. Already beginning to look them over, you could tell that a lot of these papers were going to need to be carefully looked over and filed appropriately.

‘So much for an easy morning...’

You internally grumble.

The day continued on as you filed and worked tirelessly to get the stack of papers dealt with and turned in. A couple of fines, ignorant trespassers, and about one unlicensed fishermen were documented and filed in the cabinet of your desk appropriately. Most of them were numerous litter reports and complaints from tourists and it was enough to whittle down your patience. To save you from your torment, the lunch bell on your phone finally went off and granted your reprieve. You let out a sigh of relief as you sit back in your office chair. You stretch and groan as it was lunch time and the stack of paper STILL wasn’t conquered. You look at the remaining files and decide to take a break and deal with them after your lunch break. You stand up, pick up your packed lunch that was sitting next to your desk and you decide to head outside to the picnic area to eat in peace. “I’m off for lunch! I’ll see you in an hour, Debra!” You call over to the receptionist, who nods in understanding as you head out the exit. With your lunch in hand, you walk out the entrance and away from the parking lot and to the picnic benches that were stationed in the grass next to the building. With a seat picked out, you sit down and begin to munch on your packed lunch. While you were eating, you pulled out your smartphone and began to idly click through headlines and various other media for any sort of news or entertainment to pass some time. Most of the news was typical political stuff, celebrity drama, and the typical conspiracy theory that is only believed by absolute nutjobs or gullible idiots. However, one headline did happen to catch your eye and stood out amongst the rest of the nonsensical boring titles. ‘Satellite mysteriously thrown off course and knocked offline. Space debris supposedly at fault.’ Huh. A satellite was knocked off course yesterday. Maybe that was the thing you saw falling from the sky? A falling satellite? It was kinda disappointing, really. It killed your hopes of anything interesting happening, plus that also meant that there was some litter left out in the forest somewhere. You huff as you just turn on your music app and decide to drown out your thoughts with some of your favorite music and a mouth filled with food. It was about a few minutes later that you then suddenly heard the sound of a car pulling up to the lodge. You turn your head towards the source and see a cruiser similar to yours pull up. Instantly, you recognized the numbers on the side as one of your own personal fleet. It brightened your day to see a car that was in your ranger's possession pull up to the hub. Despite being a leader of 8 different rangers at various points in this national park, you barely get to see them that often. Usually, you all meet up at least once every two weeks to exchange information and update each other on events that have been going on around the park. Over time, you’ve grown to know them. Maybe even bonded with a few of them. As if they’ve become almost like a family to you. Which you certainly didn’t mind. Judging by the cruiser's numbers, you figured that your youngest ranger was going to be the one to exit the car. Like clockwork, the familiar face of your most recent recruit steps out of the car, along with his unexpected taller partner. Both dressed up in their ranger uniforms and holding their own respective files while they got out. Both seemingly getting ready for their own respective lunch breaks. While you weren’t expecting your tallest ranger to be with the youngest member, it wasn’t uncommon for rangers to carpool or share rides around the park. It both saves gas and brings comfort in knowing that you have a partner watching your back. They both were quick to notice you and wave at you, which you returned wholeheartedly. They both approach as you turn down your music, then the youngest ranger engages you in conversation. “Ey, chief! How are you today?” The youngest ranger greets happily. “I’m good, Alex. I’ve just been swamped with work...as per usual. How are you and Dakota doing this afternoon?” You inquire, smiling at your two fellow rangers. “We’ve been good. The lakes have been quite deserted, so our neck of the woods have been rather peaceful over the last few days.” Dakota speaks up, his shorter partner nodding in confirmation. “Yep! Just a few adventurous canoeing campers and some licensed fishermen. Nothing too notable or worthy of reporting to you and headquarters.” Alex chirps. You smile at them both. “That’s wonderful. What about Kegan and Greer?” You continue. “Haven’t really talked to them much. But I bet that shorty, Kegan, is still watching the forest. Especially with the wildfires afoot more than ever. Meanwhile, I think Greer is still keeping their eyes on the plains. But they’re not very talkative. So it’s kinda hard to tell...” Alex replies. “And Paton and Sage?” You press. “Paton is carefully watching the fish with a crane’s discipline down by the rivers. They were the one that caught that fisherman trying to scoop up the shads and crayfish without a license recently.” Dakota answers. “And Sage is still at the repair shop fixing up some of our broken down cruisers. They’re working hard to get them fixed, though!” Alex pitches in. You nod. “What about the siblings, Shay and Clay?” You question. “Shay has been carefully watching the bird populace with a watchful eye, as usual. No signs of poaching and the breeding program seems to be going really well this year! Shay says we’ve been having our highest clutch of eggs ever laid since the last 3 years!” Alex happily announces. “And Clay has been taking care of the security and communication firms at the radio tower. Everything seems to be going well on their end too.” Dakota finishes. You let out a sigh of relief. Thankful that not a single problem has been reported as of yet. A rather favorable outcome compared to what you have to deal with on a spring break weekend. “Man, this lockdown has been a blessing. I haven’t had one death report or animal attack in the last year and a half, I shouldn’t get used to it though. I’m actually starting to have faith in humanity again.” You dramatically say, much to the amusement of your two rangers. “Hehehe! Yeah! Me and Dakota might as well be on vacation.” Alex jokes.Even Dakota lets out a brief chuckle before nodding along. Then, Alex takes a look at their watch before gasping. “Oh! Well me and Dakota were just coming by to drop off our papers and say a quick hello before we headed out to lunch. So we better hurry along before we have a late lunch! Sorry for such a short visit Warden!” Alex explains as the two of them turn away and begin to wave at you. You were about to wave them off before a sudden question came to your mind. “Hold up you two!” You suddenly say, causing the both of them to stop in their tracks as they turn to face you in slight surprise. “Uh...is something the matter, chief?” Dakota questions carefully. “I just wanted to ask you two something before you go to lunch.” You explain. “Did you two happen to notice anything... unusual yesterday morning?” You continue. The two rangers both looked at each other and shared a confused look before focusing back on you. Both of them shaking their heads in response. “Not really.” “Nope.” They both reply in near unison. You allow a downtrodden expression to cross your face. “Oh. Well, that’s alright. Just be sure to ask the other rangers if they saw anything weird yesterday morning if you happen to see them today, okay?” You say dismissively. Alex and Dakota share another glance. “Is...something bothering you chief?” The tall ranger cautiously inquires. “Yeah. You’re looking really worried about something. Do you need to talk about it?” Alex offers. “Well…” You sigh before continuing on. “Yesterday morning, right at dawn, I swore I saw something fall from the sky. It was on fire and I remember watching it fall until it disappeared out of sight. I spent all day looking for it to find out what it was...but I didn’t find anything. I don’t even know if what I saw was real or not. Nobody else seems to have seen or witnessed it either.” You confess. The two rangers look at you in silent astonishment. “Whoa, Whoa, Whoa...so was it like...a meteor or something??” Alex questions. You could only shrug from your place at the picnic table. “I don’t know. It was too far away for me to see, but I do remember hearing a distant boom shortly after it fell out of sight. I have a hunch that it landed somewhere. But, I also saw in the media that a satellite was impacted and compromised since yesterday. I just don’t know if it was a satellite, a meteor, or whatever. I just know that something landed out there… somewhere. ” You surmise. “Ooooh, maybe it’s a meteor that is holding an alien parasite or something and it’s gonna pick off our lovely townsfolk one by one…” Dakota says darkly, which earns them a punch in the shoulder from Alex. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dakota!” Alex chides as Dakota could only laugh in response. You could only roll your eyes at their antics. “Alright...just don’t worry about it for now. We’ll talk more about it later. Sorry for holding you two up. Go take your lunch breaks!” You softly order. Then, the two of them realize that they were probably now REALLY late for their lunch breaks and both turn and begin to walk away. With Alex waving back at you. “It was nice talking to you, Warden! We’ll be sure to ask the others if they have seen anything odd since yesterday morning! Have a good day!” Alex calls back to you, while both of them disappear into the lodge. You turn back towards your unfinished lunch and idle music playlist that was now playing a random song. Once more, you were alone with your thoughts. You got back to eating your meal while your mind focused on the strange event you witnessed once again. Those unresolved thoughts from this morning resurfacing.It was kinda strange how nobody else saw what you witnessed, but hopefully you didn’t come off as crazy to your rangers. But...what if what Dakota said had some truth to it? What if it was a parasitic-alien-carrying-meteor and life in this little town will never be the same ever again? What if some people really do die suddenly and without reason? What if something bad really does happen? How would you even be able to cope with a situation like that?? You decided to briefly close your eyes for a moment to clear your head a bit. Instead, you focused on your breathing. You focused on the warmth of the sunlight on your skin...the feel of the wind sweeping through your hair...the scent of smoke drifting through the air...the comfort of the picnic table...the flavor of the food in your mouth...everything else but what was going on in your head. A moment of blissful silence passes. Then, you shake your head from side to side slowly. No. That was silly. Not impossible ...but silly . What are the chances of that anyway? Dakota was just messing with you. For all that you know, it could’ve been just a hallucination. It probably wasn’t even real to begin with anyway. Instead, you open your eyes and hurry to finish your food and you check your phone. Just in time, your lunch break was going to be over in the next few minutes. And a stack of papers were still waiting for you to file them on their desk. You let out a disgruntled groan as you put your phone back into your vest pocket and begin to get up from the picnic table. With the trash cleaned up and the food eaten, you begin to head back inside the lodge. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take you too long to finish filing what you needed to do. Without any further delays, you walk back into the lodge to settle your remaining paperwork. And with every filing and every piece of paper read carefully through, the hours of the day quickly ticked on by.--You let out an exhausted sigh as you finally conquered the stack of paperwork. The piled up behemoth was finally filed away and that meant that you were ready to go back to your private lodge up in the mountains. You stand up from your desk and with a final stretch, you begin to gather up your things and head out the door to your assigned office. You wave at the equally tired Debra as you walk by, she looked as if she barely had the focus left to wave back, but it didn’t bother you much. The sun was beginning to sink over the horizon as you walked out of the lodge. The cool night breeze welcomes you as you approach your car and begin to get inside for the drive back home. With a similar routine to what you did that morning, you turn the car on and begin to head out towards the mountains. Watching as the pedestrians you saw awaken earlier that day slowly begin to make their way back home. The shops, local restaurants, and even the local clinic were shutting down for the night as your car passed by the welcoming sign. Your trip was the same as before or similar to any other day. You would get up, file paperwork some days, patrol on others, or sit at your lodge. Paperwork days were obviously the hardest. Thankfully, tomorrow you will be able to lounge at your lodge in peace or go for some small partrols. Maybe you would even go searching for that mysterious object. The drive back was similar to the drive over. Music softly plays on the nighttime radio as you drive back up the winding roads. However, once you were approaching the ridge that was divided into two segments, the setting sun illuminated something strange on the cliffside that managed to catch your eye.You lay off the gas and slow down to get a good look at the side of the mountain as you creep up on the divide. You worriedly eye the road ahead as you take notice of lots of loose gravel and distirbed rocks that remained askew on the cliff. There was even a noticeable trail in the gravel that went down towards the road further ahead. You stay focused and remain cautious as you continue on. At first, you figured that a rockslide occurred while you were down in the city. It was certainly not a rarity, but it was very uncommon for this road to be impacted by a rockslide…thankfully, this road wasn’t really traveled down that much. Finally, you gasp and halt the car while throwing up your caution lights as a fairly large log comes into view.It was laying on the road near where the shoulder of the road and hillside meet. Some stones, small boulders, as well as some other various debris lay around the impact sight.You quickly reach over and fish your flashlight out of your glove box and you set your headlights to high beams for better visibility. Then, you exit your car to investigate. You walk around the front of your vehicle and turn on your flashlight, shining it down on the pile of debris. At first, it looked like nothing more was amiss other than some large logs. No large boulders that would be proven a problem to the safety of the road, blocking the way, or anything else amiss. With a quick scan of your flashlight, you visually scan the mountainside and scope out where the log came loose. You hum to yourself as you look back at the pile on the road. Then something ominous grabs your attention suddenly… You didn’t notice it at first...but something was dripping out of the pile and forming a small and shallow puddle near the center of the heap...just right in between the gaps where your flashlight could shine through. Something… Red. You blink and realization quickly dawns on you as you approach the pile for a closer look...then you finally see it. A small human-like hand was buried under the log.You couldn’t hold back a surprised gasp. Someone was BURIED UNDER THERE!You react quickly, your rescue training rapidly coming into play. Setting your flashlight off to the side, you hurry over and begin to throw the smaller obstacles out of the way. Your fear grew more and more as the objects were continuously removed, the more of a small body you could see. Your anxiety increased drastically when you realized that this was most-likely a child, as well as if the possibility of the victim was still alive or not. Finally, with the branches and smaller rocks out of the way, you found a scene that made your blood grow cold. The small human child was pinned underneath the large log that fell from way up the mountain’s slope. Blood was pooling around their legs as the log could be seen pinning one of their legs to the sharp rocks that lined the bottom of the slope. With adrenaline beginning to flood through you, you could swear that you saw the head move slightly, but it quickly went limp again. You wasted no more time and rushed to grab the log. Using your strong legs, you manage to lift the log up and off the unfortunate victim and throw it off to the side with an impressive show of strength. Now that the object was removed, you could see the full extent of the damage to the victim’s leg. It was enough to make you visibly cringe. The wound that was present then began to gush blood as you hurry over and worm your way under their unconscious form. Carrying the victim fireman-style, you rush over to the passenger side of your car and open the door with your fingers. You set the victim in the passenger seat and then you open the glove box and fish out the emergency first-aid kit that you kept in there for moments like these. Popping it open, you snatch up the gauze, diaper pin, and scissors.With a quick flurry of moments, you wrap the gauze around the injured leg and begin to wrap it tight enough to slow the blood flowing from the wound.Finishing the wrappings with a hefty knot, you pin the wrappings in place with the diaper pin. The finishing touch was buckling the victim’s passenger seatbelt. After that, you rush around to get your stuff and flashlight from the shoulder of the road before rushing to get back into the driver seat. Your mind was racing as you tried to figure out what to do with the unconscious person next to you. What should you do in this situation?! This was completely unexpected! The drive back to town was quite a ways away and the clinic in town was closed for the day. I mean, you could radio your medical emergency crew, but would they even get here in time?! They were losing so much blood! The kid needed medical attention now!!With your options not good enough for the situation, you put your car in gear and punch the gas. Your tires let out a loud squeal as your vehicle rockets down to the road. With a flip of a switch, your emergency sirens come on and you race back to your lodge at near reckless speed. Not wanting to waste any more time from getting this ‘kid’ medical attention. Your unconscious charge sitting limply in the driver seat as you do so. Silently urging you to get back to your place as quickly as you could.--With your speeding vehicle and the blaring sirens, you arrived at your lodge in record time. The little fairy lights hanging from your porch and the garden in the front yard came into view as the lights of your front porch illuminated the way to your dwelling. Like a distant beacon of hope, you floor it and the revving of your engine could probably be heard from miles away. A quick few turns of your steering wheel and you enter the driveway that leads to your home. You finally lay off the gas and a sudden stomp on the brakes brought the vehicle to a stop in front of your lodge’s garage. You toss your seatbelt off and hurried to exit the car. Leaving your files and equipment inside. With a quickened pace, you race to the other side of the car and open the door. Unbuckling the small human, you carefully pick them up and take a rapid glance at their wound. Already seeing the bandages turning red, you grunt as you haul them up into your arms. A rough kick to the car door shut it and you rushed onto your front porch. With a bit of fumbling with your keys, you finally get the door unlocked and hurry into your home. Another kick to the door closed it as you hurried over to the den’s couch. You lay the victim on the furniture and speed off towards the bathroom. Ripping open your medicine cabinet, you grab the bottle of antiseptic, bandages, thick gauze, scissors, and a tweezer. As well as stuffing some clean towels under your arm. You quickly come back to the victim and set the stuff on the ground. You then adjust the position of the poor soul and you then kneel before them. You don’t even pay attention to what your injured charge was wearing, you just quickly take off the boot from their injured leg and wince at the ‘discoloured’ skin that was revealed. It nearly made you want to hurl, but you endured. Using the scissors, you cut off the ‘pants leg’ of the victim and finally reveal the wound. You grit your teeth tightly as the injury was covered in large splinters and dried blood. As well as fresh blood that continued to seep from the wound. You grab the tweezers and get to work. You pulled out thorn-like splinters from the main part of the injury. Even pulling some out that even the victim visibly whimpered to. You felt horrible that this little person had to go through so much torment for so long! This was probably going to be so painful when they woke up! With a quick and careful pace, you scraped, pulled, and removed as many splinters and debris as you could. Wiping down the afflicted with the antiseptic fluid to kill off any bacteria or growing infection. You even checked the depth of the wound, which didn’t go down to the bone. But the accident did injure some muscles and break some vessels. Thankfully, it missed the arteries. The wound was still seeping blood, however. But you were about to help alleviate that with a useful survival skill that was taught to you during your training. Instead of letting it continue to bleed, you got up and ran to the kitchen for some unique supplies. Coming back in with a soft-tipped butter knife and a lighter. For a moment, you heat up the knife with the flame from the lighter before kneeling back down to be level with the sore again. With the grace of a trained surgeon, you use the hot tip of the knife to press down on the bleeding vessels in the leg. The poor kid lets out an audible subconscious whine as you cauterize the wound. Thankfully they weren’t awake for this procedure. You didn’t really have any painkillers or morphine on hand. Which probably would’ve been a lot worse. With a bit of careful and tender care, the vessels that were leaking the precious blood were closed up and the blood loss was greatly reduced. You let out a relieved sigh as the ‘child’ was finally stabilized. You finish the process by disinfecting the opening again, checking for any more splinters, and finally wrapping the thick gauze around the area. Finishing up by wrapping the leg in bandages. With the emergency situation finally under control, you sit back and finally take a moment to breathe and allow the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins to dilute. Now that you are beginning to relax, you finally take in the appearance of the strange ‘child’. You didn’t pay any attention before, but now that you could look at them, they seemed to be wearing an astronaut suit. Which was strangely adorable, but didn’t really answer your questions. How did a child wind up at the ridge? What caused the log to come tumbling down and nearly crush them?? Where were their parents?!? You rub your temples with your thumbs as you observe the unconscious being in front of yourself...I mean...you think they’re unconscious. It was hard to see through their little helmet and visor... Speaking of which...you may need to see if anyone filed a missing person report lately. Maybe revealing their face will help give you a description and see if they fit any. And while you’re at it, you may give the parents a few choice words while you are at it! So, you stand up and loom over the much smaller figure. Reaching out, you grab their helmet and give it a twist. It popped off with no resistance and you removed it. . . . You were completely stunned as you suddenly dropped the cracked helmet in surprise as your eyes struggled to process what you were seeing.In front of you, was a little humanoid-like being with greyish skin, white speckled spots, sharp teeth, and green-colored ‘hair’ that almost seemed to sparkle in the artificial lights of your abode. You took a few steps back and your mind drew a complete blank. The only thing you could think of to say seemed to shoot past your lips faster than your brain could process. Despite the low volume of your voice, it carried all the surprise you were feeling at that very moment. “What the fuck?!” (First) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

#Among Us #Among Us fanfic #Among Us fic #Among Us reader insert #AO3fic #Haxorus Imp #My Writings #Planet of the Megafaunas

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fistsoflightning · 4 years

Text

15: a life in your shape

prompt: ache || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2517

A’dewah just wants to be loved, no matter how much he’ll have to give. (Or; things don’t necessarily turn out well when you keep falling for guys already in love with your friends.)

Aha....... A’dewah angst.... ‘when the prompt is ache am I just supposed to ignore the very easy path to listen to ‘Strawberry Blond’ for two hours’; the fic.

The first time he realizes, the flowers in his hands are in full bloom; vibrant oldroses and brightlilies from his garden. Summer in Mor Dhona means the gloom clearing, and when Zaya drags him along to Lake Silvertear with everyone else he doesn’t really have the choice to say no, so he grabs his basket and weaves flower crowns by the shore as everyone chases each other around in some chaotic game of tag.

Funnily enough, G’raha breaks away from the crowd to sit next to him, at some point; he starts on a ruby red and white crown for him as he catches his breath. His eyes are bright, mismatched teal and Allagan red, and even though A’dewah hides his odd eye the same way G’raha does he wonders what he might look like with his bangs pinned back.

(That, he thinks, was probably his first mistake: thinking G’raha enjoyed spending time with him as much as he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t, but he’d always had the problem of hoping for more where he didn’t deserve it.)

He looks up, halfway through the crown, and sees G’raha still watching everyone scramble about—in the distance A’dewah can see a gigas, hopefully it won’t come much closer—and even though he knows it’ll break him, he keeps weaving flower stems back and forth as he asks, “Who are you looking at?”

G’raha sighs, unbearably fond, and A’dewah knows the look on his face a bit too well when he looks up.

“Lunya,” he says, and it doesn’t take a bard to tell that he’s utterly besotted. “How she’s so energetic I will never know.”

Oh, he realizes, fingers stiffening in the tangle of flower stems as he looks back at Lunya—she hardly even spares him a glance, waving only to G’raha. He’d thought he’d done something else wrong, like insulting her sense of fashion—which, honestly, wasn’t a reach, considering his coat and the earring—or being able to heal more than she could, or something even stupider, but this—

Oh, I’m an idiot, he thinks as Lunya looks away and G’raha can’t help but keep staring.

If he finishes up the rest of the flower crown sloppily, G’raha doesn’t say anything, not even when A’dewah carefully places it on his head and runs off, his heart askew.

(He doesn’t even say anything before he goes and seals himself off in the tower—not that A’dewah was expecting anything. He wasn’t a friend, really, so he expected to hear the news from someone else, expected to hear that he confessed just before leaving.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that he was stupid enough to think Raha cared or the fact that looking in the mirror, seeing one red eye and dark red hair—that it’s enough to make him ache.)

...

The second time—gods, he’s so stupid to have more than one time—the second time, the flowers in his hand are wilting. It’s fall—flowers usually die off sooner, so he’s not sure why the ones he has are simply wilting—but it is also Coerthas, and the chill is enough to make him want to wilt.

So is, he thinks, Haurchefant’s smile. Bright and blinding, full of life.

(He’d known he’d fall from the moment they met the man, after the raid on the Waking Sands and before the fall of the wild roses—he’d known what would happen if he let himself accept the kindness Haurchefant had so freely given, and he’d seen Reese’s reaction to his exuberant greetings. He’d known.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t try to stay away.)

The Vault is a blur; flurries of flame and magicked armor, the Heavens’ Ward, the number of elixirs A’dewah drains to keep up—and even then, he’s only got so much of himself left when Haurchefant falls at Zephirin’s spear, and if it weren’t for Lunya he’d have bled himself dry to save his smile, even when his heart aches at the thought of a knight sacrificing everything for his ladylove.

(It’s terrible, his jealousy, so unwanted and unkind. He does not hate his friends—they’re stronger and sharper than he is, anyways, and if he did actually come to hate one of them they’d surely be able to tell and break his spine for it—but part of him wishes he were good enough to be wanted in their place, and everytime he thinks about it he feels worse than he did the last time.

He’s good for something, sure. Maybe that something is healing. Maybe that something is making his friends hate him.)

Haurchefant survives, of course; Lunya is so much stronger than he is, so stubborn that she wouldn’t have let his tale end here, but even stars have their limits. Right after the Vault, there’s no one left among them with enough energy to keep watch, in case something goes awry. Reese offers to stay, but she looks ready to collapse even moreso than A’dewah does.

When Count Edmont asks who would be keeping watch, A’dewah practically forces himself into their sickroom before anyone else, and keeps himself up that night watching the quiver of their connected aether rather than the quiet burning in his stomach.

He hates himself. He truly does; why else would he stick so close?

…

He doesn’t even remember why he has dead flowers in his hands the third time—something to do with a sudden cold snap killing even the hardiest of flowers around Ishgard, and volunteering himself to see if any plants were saveable under the packed snow—but it’s a halfway decent example of what he feels like when he sees Aymeric and Hanami walking along the cleared path back to the row of minor houses, away from the Last Vigil.

(The fact that he looks at them and wants makes him sick. He should want for nothing—he’s alive, he’s not in a gaol, he’s—)

A’dewah’s not sure he looks back down to the grey dirt fast enough to avoid Hanami’s quick turn, coldfire gaze freezing him in place more than the weather, but he sure as all hells tries. She’s already angry enough at him as is, having heard the truth at the Wall and then right from Ilberd’s lips, the bastard.

(He can’t say he didn’t know before—it’d just sound like a lie, no matter how true it actually was, even with desperation reddening his eyes and leaving tears dripping from his chin. He doesn’t know how to say anything that might make them listen again, doesn’t remember any half-decent apologies that he’d spewed to his sisters—and those never worked, either.

It was easier to let them hate him, anyhow. Better to let a tainted flower die than to give it one last chance.)

He’s not sure what breaks first, when he hears Aymeric whisper is aught amiss and he suddenly wishes (selfishly, horribly, wickedly) that he was the one he was speaking to; his composure, or his heart, but he curls up further into himself anyways until he hears two sets of feet walking away.

(And if his heart bursts open after that, summer rain melting Ishgard’s winter snow, there is no one around to tell him to stop being such a crybaby.)

…

“—keep yer hands pressed down hard, I’ll be right back with a healer—”

“—go, I got it—”

He doesn’t know who’s speaking, head spinning as it is behind closed eyes, and he only realizes he can’t feel his hands when he tries to rub his eyes and finds he can’t.

“Hey,” someone asks—someone from earlier, but A’dewah’s ears ring and he can’t think too hard on it without everything fading, so he just tilts his head somewhat to his left to show he’s listening. “There you are. How’re you feeling?”

What he says, he doesn’t quite hear, but maybe it was something like tired or drunk or… something; he can’t accurately describe the feeling-non-feeling of being unable to move but still there. The only thing he can tell is that there’s a weight on his chest, and that it smells a lot like iron. Kind of like an infirmary, packed with injured, if he thinks about it; too close to Rhalgr’s Reach after the run-in with Zenos.

Right. Zenos. He’d been fighting alongside everyone, sneaking out to the spring night—was it Yugiri that told them the crown prince was here, or someone else—and he remembers the red crackle of his third blade, and the disgruntled groan of—of someone, he can’t remember who, and he’d ran forward…

“Can you focus on breathing for me?”

A’dewah does; at least he’s good at listening, if not for anything else, his breath evening out. His head stops spinning enough for him to think once he does, but even digging for the name to place to the voice is hard enough. He finally manages to crack his eyes open enough to see past the blur, then, and blinking a few times clears it enough for him to realize two things:

One: Oh. Haruki.

Two: That’s a lot of blood in the towel on my chest.

If he could feel his hands, he might have tried to feel his chest, lay his hands on top of Haruki’s—they’re covered in blood, doesn’t he hate the sight of injuries, doesn’t he hate the smell—but he doesn’t, because his hands don’t move when he tries to. Like a puppet, strings cut, unfeeling. Instead, he just looks down as much as he can, the white coat he usually wears gone and a cut in the black turtleneck he’d been wearing. The lily of the valley from Mune that he’d tucked into the collar of his coat lays at his side, stained crimson. A bit like his hair, now that he looks at the mess; maybe red dye wasn’t the best of choices.

Zenos, his mind supplies when Haruki shifts his hands a little and A’dewah sees the gash. You jumped in front of his sword for someone.

Well, that explains all the blood. Probably.

(A part of him is disappointed Zenos didn’t cut away enough of him to prove to Haruki that he’s not worth the trouble, that he’s not as kind and hopeful and brave as he used to be, but he doesn’t say anything. He’d just sound pathetic.)

“Don’t worry about it,” Haruki says, even though he looks like he’s about to panic when A’dewah looks back up. His little grin is too sharp, at the edges, glued into place, and even though he knows something’s wrong more than just a lot of blood and an injury he doesn’t fight it. He probably wouldn’t, even if he could. “Just stay with me, yeah?”

Sure. He nods, staring up at the ceiling, and then to Haruki, a question at the tip of his tongue.

“Are…” He coughs, and the way Haruki winces makes him grimace, too. “Are they… safe?”

“...Yeah.” Haruki’s face twists into something strained but fond at the edges, and A’dewah doesn’t like the way his heart skips a beat for it. He can’t—it isn’t. He won’t let his heart ruin him again, even if it means ignoring the way his traitorous ears flick back when Haruki reaches up and brushes his hair out of his eyes, even if there’s still blood stuck on his hands and even if the sticky feeling makes him feel ill. “Dewah, keep your eyes open, ‘kay? Think Tehra’ir’s almost back with someone.”

He nods again, but his vision is already blacking out at the edges—oh, he thinks, blood loss will do that, huh—and when Haruki looks back up at him he’s already got his eyes closed, heart heavy and hearing fading as he starts to fall asleep, even when Haruki calls out—

“Dewah?”

He jerks up, already halfway to standing when his knee connects with Haruki’s ribs; for his merit, he only lets out a small oof before A’dewah realizes where he is. He blinks a few times, just for good measure.

Right. The One Garden. Napping under a tree, flowers (that he wasn’t certain were there when they sat down) blooming around them as the breeze made them sway.

“S-sorry! I didn’t—I thought someone was—” He’s not sure whether to lay his hands over the spot where he’s sure Haruki will bruise or to sit back down and stay still so he doesn’t smack him again, so in his fluster he decides on neither, wobbling back and forth between the two until Haruki pulls him down into his lap.

“No worries, sunshine.” Haruki smiles brightly, and A’dewah’s not sure if he bristles at the reminder of his heartaches or at the gentle touch he puts on his shoulder. “Accident, yeah?”

He nods, face a bit flushed as he tips his head down. There isn’t blood, anywhere—horrible of his head, to throw him back to then rather than letting him dream of something stupid, like Zaya’s oversized sheep and even more oversized yol terrorizing Revanant’s Toll, or singing flowers.

“So, uh,” he says after a few moments, feeling a bit more himself. “You called?”

“Yeah. You looked—” Haruki pauses, then, to yawn, lifting his hands from A’dewah’s sides to stretch his arms. “You looked distressed,” he says, resting a hand on his head and lightly tracing a line down the shell of A’dewah’s ear with his finger. “Bad dream?”

“A bit,” he mumbles, folding his hands in his lap. Wanting to reach out but a bit afraid to touch, like if he lets himself do what he will this will all fade away into the abyss of his nightmares. Like he’s fooled himself into thinking someone cares, again.

But Haruki reaches out first, raising a hand to scratch at the base of A’dewah’s ear—he should have never told him all those years ago that he liked that, too easy a tell and too easy a cure to his aching heart—and he all but melts into the touch, cooling the skin where the summer sunlight has warmed.

“We still got a few bells; you can go back to sleep, if you’re still exhausted.”

“No,” he says, but he still lets himself fall back onto Haruki’s chest—and, yeah, maybe he’s still tired, because he doesn’t even flush at how close he is to his heartbeat, letting his fall in time to it. It’s a bit strange, how he just… fits, in some way that if he had to describe he’s sure he’d die for good. Even being swept up into group hugs by Syhrwyda and Zaya wasn’t as comforting as falling into Haruki’s cool touch—which, kami above, that’s even more embarrassing to think of. “This is fine.”

“Oh, now it is,” Haruki grumbles good-naturedly even as he wraps his arms back around to the small of his back, and A’dewah giggles—stupidly, maybe, but there’s no one around to judge him for it. “Tell me; what changed from a bell ago to make you okay with cuddles now?”

“You’re warmer now,” he replies, and as the wind rushes through his hair again all he hears is Haruki’s laugh, bright as the sun even beneath the shade of the plum tree.

#ffxiv #a'dewah tia #haruki #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2020 #elie's ffxivwrite2020 #my writing #tales from the blue #s: sitting in a persimmon tree #mmmmm. don't really like this one much. probably will edit it after this month but for now!!!! here it is

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doverly · 4 years

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Into the Murky Depths

Adea is finally ready to start her beloved. She had been dreaming of this night, and now it’s finally happening! She wonders what the ceremony will be like? And what will happen afterwards, Adea hopes she’s ready.

1.5k words

C.W: Drowning

I looked at the mirror in front of me. It was one of the oldest things in the house. Hundreds of years of people have gazed into the mirror. Watching the glass crack and gold tarnish. No matter how much polishing and shining, they couldn’t stop the passage of time. But it wouldn’t matter for much longer. The golden flowers would glitter and bloom once more, and I would be able to see everything reflected in the glass.

But in the few more minutes until the big moment I would have to make due and look at my slightly warped reflection. What I could see was perfect. We had all been preparing for this day for years, and it was what I had been dreaming of since I was a little girl. My skin was a glowing deep brown. And I could see the excitement glittering in my eyes. I fingered the crystal necklace hanging from my neck, and the tulle framing my curly black locks.

“No fidgeting, Adea, don’t want to muss your dress,” my caretaker, Maeve said even though she was the one who was fidgeting. Placing her papery pale brown hand on my shoulder. Then brushing one of my curls out of my place. And if she wasn’t touching me she was pacing, around and around the top of the tower we were in.

It wouldn’t be much longer. Lights were starting to appear all around the house, and night was falling rapidly.

Yes, I thought, soon, we’ll be together soon.

There was a creaking sound behind me, and I had to physically stop myself from squealing. I didn’t turn around. I knew what Maeve would be doing. A respectful gesture to the new-comers and ushering them towards me. From behind, a bouquet of flowers was placed in my lap. I wrapped my hands around the stems, not even flinching as the thorns pierced my palms.

Besides, a little blood won’t hurt, I thought as Maeve linked elbows with me and helped me out of the chair.

The smell of lily of the valley, jasmine, and white rose comforted me as I walked across the wooden floor. My bare feet making no noise from underneath my dress. Carefully and slowly Maeve helped me down the ladder, the skirt of my dress going down bit by bit. Once we were down the ladder we stopped as they opened the second trap door. I looked out the window, dazzled by what I saw below me.

Everyone was standing side by side on the lawn holding flickering lanterns aloft, making a twinkling path for me down towards the lake. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew the arch stood waiting for me. Where my beloved would be waiting for me.

The light shifted, and instead of gazing at the lawn, I was met with my own reflection. My dress, my dress! It was older than me, older than Maeve even. It was white and studded with real, weighty gems on the bodice. The skirt and sleeves ballooned outward with tulle and even more gems. For years I had been tailoring it, making sure not a thread was out of place or fold was unnecessary. It was the best I could make it and I knew it looked stunning. I knew my beloved would love it.

“Get a move on, Adea, don’t want to keep Them waiting, do you?” Maeve chastised me playfully.

“Of course not!” I assured her and started down the latter.

From then on all we had to negotiate was the swirling hallways of the house and getting to the stairs. Wood paneling up the sides of the walls ending in fields and fields of wallpaper flowers. Everything had the familiar smell of dust and fabric. Maeve was still leading me by the elbow while the two people who had first come and got me were behind us.

Inconspicuously as possible I tried to turn my eyes around to see who they were. Maybe it was Harris and Jamie,they were in charge of important ceremonies. Or maybe they had sent some other people to get me, if so who were they? That mystery kept me going as we walked down the rug-covered stairs and arrived at the front door. We all paused at the door for Maeve to get ready.

She pulled her night-colored hood over her face and clipped a veil over what wasn’t covered. Once she was done doing this she once again started to fuss over me. Brushing all of the hair and fabric away from my face, making sure there were no wrinkles or stains in my dress. And once again checking my face. Only my face could be visible for the ceremony. Didn’t want my beloved to get confused after all.

Once everything was covered up, and I looked the best I would ever look, the two people I didn’t know opened the door. Maeve and I stepped out of the house, quickly descending from the deck and taking our first steps onto the lawn. The grass was wet under my feet. In the background, the night creatures of the wood were starting to awaken. The owls were starting their hunt, and I could hear the squeak of bats. I could hear the rippling of water on the lake. But what was in front of me was all I was paying attention to.

As I had seen from the window everyone was standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Holding their lanterns aloft and being as silent as possible.

Once the ceremony started, no one could talk but me. No one’s face could be visible but mine. It was my big day, and I was the center of attention. My beloved had to be focused on me and only me. There was no room for error after so much preparation.

I started tearing up as I walked across the smooth dirt path towards the lake, Even though they’re not allowed to talk they’re all doing so much for me!

No matter what would happen to me with my beloved, it was the least I could do for all the people supporting me. Maeve walked me down the path and I glanced sideways every few steps. Everyone was covered in their night-colored hoods and cloaks, but I knew who was who.

My favorite tutor, Isla, with her familiar dignified stance. My childhood playmate, Olly, with his playfully wiggling arms. Every posture, every stance, everybody I could recognize and remember the time we had spent together. I didn’t know where my beloved would take me or what would happen to me after the ceremony, but I was happier than I had ever been or would be in my entire life. I was so glad that everyone had come to see me off, so glad they cared for me.

Maeve and I were coming to the end of the dirt path. Dirt mixed with the sandy banks of the lake and created a thick mud that squelched between my toes. Maeve started squeezing my elbow harder, and I chuckled silently.

“Don’t worry, we’re meeting at a lake. I'm sure They won’t mind a little mud on my hem.”

Maeve didn’t speak, of course, but I could tell she was more relaxed. We were in sight of the arch, and I could hear cicadas singing in the reeds. I smiled and looked at Maeve, trying to see the outline of her beautifully wrinkled features through the veil. Speaking more would be dangerous, but I hoped that she could see the gratitude in my eyes. She had done so much for me since before I could remember, and it was fitting that she was the last person I would see before my beloved took me away.

Once I was done trying to say thank you I continued walking toward the arch. It was just me from that point on. No friends lighting the way and no Maeve. Just me, the now muddy path, and nature all around me.

The arch was sitting on the waterline and I paused to look at it, but I didn’t look back. Made from the oldest tree that we had been nurturing since the beginning. Branches weaved together skillfully, with leaves still growing around the bark. I had seen the arch before, but that night it had more gravity. More energy, drawing me towards it. I didn’t fight the pull, knowing that soon I would be in the arms of my beloved.

Flowers still in my hand, I walked through the arch and into the lake. The water first started to pool in my footsteps, then it started to push against my feet. I tried my hardest not to trip as I waded further in. Maeve would have been happy knowing that the mud was being washed off of my dress. Further and further I went in and the water got colder and colder.

Eventually I couldn’t walk in anymore without being completely submerged. Again I paused, but the pull of my beloved was enough to squish any doubt. I went in and continued walking, holding my breath and trying to keep my grip on the flowers underwater. I couldn’t walk forever, and eventually I was just floating. The gems on my dress served their purpose, weighing me down making me sink deeper and deeper into the dark depths. I couldn’t feel if the flowers were still in my hands as my breath gave out.

Water rushed into my lungs and chilled my insides, my dress doing nothing to keep me warm. Time seemed to slow down as I sank deeper and deeper, smiling, knowing that I would be taken care of. My body went limp and up was down and nothing was normal. Just for a second, I was scared. But just for a moment. Once that moment had passed I was embraced in warmth. Still soaking wet, and without the flowers, but I felt amazing.

I looked up into the murky eyes of my beloved and smiled. She was beautiful.

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sarissophori · 5 years

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Hither Yonder, Chapter 5

The Wild Roads

Halli awoke soon after sunrise, roused by the warming air and ground. She stirred, still sore from the night’s run and the fall that ended it. She sat up stiffly and listened for a while. Aside the pleasant sighing of boughs in the morning wind and distant bird calls the forest was silent, serene. She no longer feared capture, overtly at least, and took time to eat some of Sador’s provisions before starting off again. Climbing out of the ditch, she consulted the map as to her course. The Irdon forest, as it was named, stretched off west and south along the slopes of the Adorn mountains, the spine of Dumbria, running with them for many miles before ending at a sundered range called the South Spur, which formed the mountain-gap watched over by the fortress of Lake Tirgon. Rather than going immediately south-west and risk becoming lost in the forest, Halli went due-west toward the mountains, where she thought to have a sure marker to follow beside. Using any roads as a runaway slave was not an option.

This was the first course of her journey. Two days she spent walking into, then through, the heart of the forest, the mountains ever before her. The land rose gradually for the most part, then more so as she neared the pine and spruce-covered foothills of the range, rising in folds of green up and up to the bare flanks of the mountains proper, cloven by dales and valleys sheltered between rocky arms. Halli now went southerly west, on ground high enough to see down the surrounding lands, but low enough to avoid steeper terrain that would only hinder her. Away back east, in the fading light, she thought she could almost see the topmost battlements of Thargorod tiny and black on the far horizon, and thought of Sador and Siri in that moment. She wondered what punishment they stood to suffer because of her escape, if it would end with them. Here on the third day, more than on the previous two, the weight of her actions pressed on her shoulders as keenly as her roll-kit, and it was brought to her, concisely, what it would mean to be alone and to carry on. The sun set, leaving her under a blanket of night and stars.

The fourth day unfolded very much like the others; calm, boring even, in the shade of tall and ancient trees high enough to shut out the world beyond the forest. The air was scented with pine sap when the wind came in from the west. Northward, it smelled crisp from the mountain airs. Her aloneness was so apparent, the fear of being found completely left her.

By late afternoon Halli came to the source-waters of the Olgon River, the largest in Dumbria; a river she crossed once before, when the wagon train carrying her and Yuta rolled past its lowland fords to Thargorod. Here she refilled her water-skin, for it was fresh from the mountain springs, and stood about to take in her surroundings. The Olgon roared and splashed down bare stony banks worn smooth by its tide, falling downhill as rapids through ravines into the deeper forest. The foam glinted in the sunlight. The mountains were to her right, marching onward out of sight, catching the sky on their peaks as if they alone suspended it, keeping the separation of heaven and earth. The trees, clustered among the rocks, swayed in the mildest breeze, and she breathed it in.

Downstream from her, near the brink of the rapids, an ibex emerged from the trees and trotted to the river, fairly large, with great curved horns. Halli crouched low and watched him drink before deciding this an opportune time to test her bow. She unfurled her roll-kit and pulled it out slowly, bending it to notch the string. She had an arrow ready when she saw, lying stealthily on a shelf overlooking the bank, a mountain lioness in wait from above, her hind legs tensed for a jump. She sprang from her rocky perch and landed squarely on the ibex, who collapsed from the attack. He kicked and bleated, but she pinned him with a bite to the windpipe as he fought, then feebly writhed, then stilled. There was rustling in the trees behind; his pack heard his calls and bolted, bounding up to the safety of the steeper slopes. The lioness looked at Halli, who stood awestruck with her arrow slacked impotently on its string, suddenly feeling like prey herself.

“The kill is yours. I offer no contest.”

The lioness hauled her meal back into the wood, toward her mountain den undoubtedly nearby. That in mind, Halli crossed the shallow arm of the river by the spring and continued on her way.

Halli walked on in caution for the remaining day and those thereafter, while the forest lasted. Her bow was out, and she made a nightly shelter to help shield her from predatory eyes. Her guard lessened, however, when the forest began to open out, the hills only partly covered. Shrubs took advantage and grew in bunches in the glades, those that flowered and those that prickled. Ivy curled through them here and there, and little rodents scurried.

Nine days after entering the Irdon, the forest’s bulk finally thinned out to a few solitary pines along tumbled lands, and Halli could see the plains below. To the immediate south ran a separate range of hills, green and roving, the peaks grayish-brown and bare; the South Spur, a bulwark of rock across the neck of Dumbria. Just before her, a league away and beside the hills, was the fortress of Tirgon, unceasing in its watch of the plains. Calvary was afield in exercises, and white smokes wafted from the chimneys of barracks. There were no trains of slaves today, but Halli knew many more had come this way since she and Yuta went through its gates that summer long ago; Hananin from the steppes and the Kundish Mounds, and others from Ipsaria, Doria and beyond from Wilderland to the north. Halli backed into the sparse protection of Irdon’s westernmost reaches and went on her way, nursing blunted fantasies of revenge against that hated fortress.

Halli followed the flanks of a great shoulder in the range that hid her from the fortress, and down she went into the lower hills. Here Lake Tirgon sat against the mountains, buffered by a narrow and rocky land populated with holly bushes, beds of dry grasses and rough thickets. Trees were sparse, and were old and stunted. Nevertheless, this was Halli’s road as she chose it. The only other way, across the plains south of the lake, would mean almost certain capture while the cavalry was out.

She scrambled down the slopes and into a defile, going along ground that alternated between sandy, gravely, rocky, and sandy again. Her bare feet were sore before much trudging, yet on she went, walking through what grass she could find, stopping only a few times to rest. The lake at least was a beautiful bluish-gray, spanning many leagues south and west, ruffled by spouts of wind, otherwise reflecting mirror-like the mountain tips under a sapphire sky. The risk of exposure in this landscape was plain to her, but she took solace in one thing: there were no trails along Tirgon’s north banks, meaning this part of the mountains were seldom visited by the Dumbrians, maybe their soldiers too, despite the presence of their fortress. Halli certainly hoped it.

For two and a half days Halli plodded through that strip of waste, her palms, knees and soles callused by the rocks, and white from a chalky powder that coated the boulders and pebbly expanses. By noon she came to the eaves of the Farrow Wood, and her spirits lightened, not only because it meant an end to this unpleasant land, but also because past the woods was the West Reach, the extent of Dumbria’s borders. The borders of her own country were near.

The difference between the Farrow Wood and the mountain waste was abrupt. Up a few shelves of layered rock hung the roots of the outermost trees, stout and gnarled, at least by the lake. Further on, Halli saw taller, leaner trees as the land became less stony further west. She delighted in feeling the softer grasses under her feet again and decided to make camp early, resting and sleeping a long while.

Halli remained in the forest’s northern marches, to keep the mountains at her side. Then, after nearly fifteen days of constant hiking within the shadow of the Ardon range, over lands easy and difficult, they began to run down into a descent, hilly with many valleys, to the adjacent lowlands of the Hananin Steppes. The forest ended, and the Ardon sank into gentle rises. Here sprawled the West Reach, the beginning of the expansive, near featureless grasslands of inner Hinterland, bare under the noontime sun. Flatness, with subtle rolls, went off as far as the eye could see, except to the north where the Morrow Wood lay, a line of green against the wheat-color of the plains, and the Kundish Mounds further on. In the north, too, were brooding cloud fronts gray with rain, as colder airs from Wilderland mingled with warmer airs from the Sea of Ahn, rising to cumulus towers black-bottomed and foreboding, as far as they were. But this was not Halli’s road. From the eaves of Farrow, she turned south in a gradual meander westward, and came after a few day’s march under the Hinterland sun to the old Imperial Road.

The Road was built ages ago by the auxiliary legions of the Tarmaril Imperium in the years of its greatest extent, to connect the conquered lands with the mother-kingdom; to speed trade, culture, and the armies not the least. In those times the Imperial Road extended unbroken from the Sheerim Mountains to the gates of Tirgon, was tended to by a dedicated legion, and was punctuated every twenty miles with manmade watering holes. Every forty miles, or every other watering hole, was a courier station with inns, stables, and a fortified garrison.

In these later times, the Road was little more than an overgrown track of stones choked by weeds and grass, covered over entirely in some sections, marked along its way by the ruins of those courier stations and reed-studded pools frequented more by wildlife than any rider, much less a cavalry of thousands. Decay and disuse aside, the Road was not completely abandoned. After Tarmaril’s fall and the decline of Dumbria, the Hananin reclaimed their country and took from the Road what purpose they could find for it: irrigation ditches were dug to drain the watering holes for farmland, then blocked up for the spring rains to fill again, then drained as before. Stones were removed from the crumbling garrisons to build bridges and homes, though not from the Road itself. The Road was never repaired to its first glory, but parts of its length between villages were tended to and cleared, especially those parts near the Hills of Hanan and Lake Onu, where Hanan’s chief villages lay.

So Halli went west, following a way as sure as the mountains, though subtler. However, she walked along beside it at a distance, staying in the long grass; the threat of Dumbrian raiders still patrolling the West Reach was too great to ignore, making it unwise for her to travel directly on the Road. She remained a furlong’s breadth away day and night, far enough to dart and hide in the grass if need be.

And on she walked, and walked. The miles were covered in good pace, but there were many of them, each identical to the last. The occasional acacia tree was approached and passed, Halli using its dry, umbrella-like canopy for the shade it offered against the relentless sun when she rested, maybe twice a day for eating, seldom at length. She also came by several watering holes, or delves in the ground where one once was. They were brackish and warm, gathered over by birds and beasts; wild oxen and kingfishers, caribou and white flamingos migrating from the wetlands of Ahn. Even if she wished to use them, she doubted room would be made for her through their herds with so many young about, and under watch. Worse, the banks would be horribly muddy and mucked with filth by their tramping, making her think better of it than wasting one of Sador’s purifying tablets. And on she walked.

There was no marker or indicator to show where the West Reach ended and Hanan proper began, besides the words on her map. Halli guessed she was close; the lands here, hardly distinguishable to a traveler, were familiar to her as a local. She knew these fields. Her village was near here. As if to remind her of her present danger, not far off the Road was the site of a small homestead of yurts and tents. Their remnants, at least. Halli dared approach for a closer look. Burnt, brittle timbers and torn cloth were strewn everywhere. The people and their flocks were gone, the ground gouged and scorched in places. A few arrows stood staggered in the grass. This was not a fresh scene of massacre, however. The pillaging of this homestead was months ago, the bones of the slain picked clean by scavengers and carrion fowl.

Halli stood silent a moment, then pressed her hands together and bowed low, speaking softly and backing away. In Hananin tradition, a place of murder not purified remained unclean, and perilous for the living to trespass. This site would remain unclean for a long time yet, and Halli, in a mix of reverence and wariness, dared not disturb the uneasy sleep of the ill-rested.

Halli moved on, with no other sign of Dumbrian menace for the day’s remainder, or much of the next. She noticed that game was starting to become scarce around the watering holes, and that her food supplies were running low. Before she lost the chance, Halli camped by one of the pools and, after a short stalk, shot a heron through the reeds. She spent precious hours plucking the carcass and preparing a modest fire, gutting the entrails (an old chore she hadn’t really missed) and holding it suspended for the blood to drain, but it would be worth it. A good catch earns a good preparation, she remembered her barn’s caretaker telling her, and a good catch it was. Aside what she would eat today, there would still be enough to last her three or so more days, if she rationed it so.

Just as the bird was ready for spitting, Halli looked behind her shoulder to see a thin black line on the Road, growing to become a rank of black forms in the twilit evening. In the stillness, she heard the beat of hooves and the snorting of horses. It was Dumbrian cavalry, and they were riding fast, in her direction. Halli quickly blotted the fire and darted into the reeds, leaving her catch in the open.

The troop of horsemen, twenty with their captain, steered their horses to where they saw the faint wisp of smoke spied from afar, and dismounted to investigate. Halli watched them while hidden away. The captain sifted through the cinders with his boot, giving the plucked bird a kick into the soot. The rest ambled about, scanning the ground for clues to this riddle. Some murmured and pointed to imprints in the grass. They were fresh, meaning the one who made them, and made the meal, was nearby –but the light was fast fading, and Halli was well hid. They paced the spot a few more times, then as the stars outshone the slender gleam of orange against the west, they remounted and continued down the Road, leaving their riddle unsolved. What was one lowly Hananin vagabond to them? Their job was to scout the outer fields and return to Tirgon, and return they would. They galloped off in speed, leaving as swiftly as they approached.

Halli waited until the thudding of hooves was gone before coming out, checking over what was to be dinner and extra rations. It was dirty but salvageable, were she bold enough to start another fire. She risked her luck terribly already with the first, and decided not to again. Instead she resumed walking, feeling more secure in the cover of dark, wanting to put as many miles as she could between herself and the reach of Dumbria before the night ended.

On the days went, drawn, hot and trudging as before, with one noticeable change: the northerly thunderheads ever present against the horizon rolled down in haste on a southern gale, darkening the afternoon. Halli was relieved at first by the sun’s veiling, despite the thunder booming overhead, and welcomed the rain. She held her water-skin open to collect some of it, and it poured, and it blew. Then, it hailed. Halli wrapped her cloak tightly about herself and hunkered down, muttering as she was pelted, watching through her hood as the plains were pelted with little stinging balls of ice, waiting for it to pass. That was how the rest of that day went, shifting between rain and hail till early evening, when Halli found a battered acacia tree to sleep under. The night proved cold in her dampened cloak, her only protection against the wind. Come morning, she would welcome the humid sun.

Then, on the fourteenth day since leaving the Adorn range, Halli saw the rising shapes of the Hills of Hanan in the distance, and her heart lifted at the sight. An afternoon’s march, and she would come to villages outside Dumbria’s reach (she hoped) who could help her, refresh and restock her, give her rest and a little friendship. She was sick of being alone. By late afternoon she was at the Hill’s eastern ends, and wandered to the southern slopes toward Lake Onu blue and placid, crowded in by pockets of forest.

Halli looked on and frowned. The villages scattered across its banks appeared empty. She investigated each in turn, walking the dirt tracks branching to and off the Road openly, if cautiously. Long lanes ran beside tilled farmlands between fingers of forest, prepared for the planting season. The fields were abandoned, as were the villages; home, hut and barn. The livestock were also gone. Halli didn’t think this the work of Dumbrian raiders coming to collect slaves for Thargorod’s markets; none of the buildings were looted or torched, none of the fields ravaged. It was as if every villager to the last child had simply vanished.

Not quite. They had fled, and taken their livestock with them. News of incursions from the West Reach would have spread far and wide soon after the initial raids that took Halli and Yuta as spoils. That was almost a year ago. So the Hananin, most being semi-nomadic, gathered their livelihoods and mobile goods, and dispersed to wherever hope or safety led them within the Hinterlands, be it north to the eaves of Wilderland, or south to Kundanar, with whom they had a common ancestry. Anything that could be resown, rebuilt, or replaced was left where it was.

Halli lingered among the ghost towns, partly wanting to scavenge what supplies she could yet find, partly because she wanted to believe that they weren’t as empty as they seemed; that she might still find someone to give her tidings, or just talk to her. She peered into the houses, even exploring inside them, but saw only field mice nibbling on crumbs, and a few broken jars. The docks on Lake Onu were bare, moored with empty fishing rafts. Finding nothing else, Halli took some water from the wells for her water-skin, and continued on.

Westward on from the Hills of Hanan, the Imperial Road slanted a little north while keeping its heading, still dotted by watering holes, still watched over by crumbling outposts. The days were consistently bright and sunny without the threat of rain, a monotonous continuum of sunrise and sunset, with all the hours blurring into a plodding haze. Halli reckoned she was getting rather good at solitary marching, and even better at food rationing.

Before the Hills fell from sight, the long grasses gave way to shorter prairie ones, then failed altogether. The lands got tougher, with pasture shrubs becoming thistle thickets and other hardy weeds, and the occasional wildflower grove. Animal herds were sparse to nonexistent –though vultures could at times be seen wheeling about hither and yon, gliding on the high winds in a perpetual search for carrion. Now and again, Halli heard their lonely cries.

So came and went another eleven days; but on the morning of the twelfth, she saw rising suddenly over the flats of Hanan, purple in the wan light of dawn, the rugged peaks of the Sheerim Mountains, the border separating the Hinterlands from the Hither. Taller and mightier than the Adorn range, The Sheerim, where Halli stood, spread out in a great arc stretching north and south, falling with the bend of the horizon to immeasurable leagues. Though it didn’t mean an end to her journey, Halli was glad to see some change, any change, to the landscape, even if it was an obstacle so great, it suffered no rival formation this side of the world. As the map showed, it spanned over five hundred miles arm to arm, nearly sundering the two halves of the western continent. This would mean two-hundred and fifty miles just to go around, no matter which way she took –more months of joyless wandering, if not for one curious feature: right through the middle of the range was an opening in the mountains, called the Mistgap, which offered itself, on paper, as a most convenient shortcut. Halli didn’t have the rations to last going around the mountains, nor the patience at this point. It was either risk an unknown way, or possible starvation. As far as she made out, there wasn’t really a choice to be discerned. Besides, the Imperial Road continued right on up to the Mistgap on the map, and so maybe went through it as well. She put her faith in that.

#story #fantasy #hither yonder #sarissophori

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innermuse24 · 5 years

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Hannibal TV series/ Laputa: Castle in the Sky AU

A/B/O Universe

Using Laputian language terms

Hannibal Lecter:

- is the last of the Dvaras Royal Line. People who sent their Kingdom up into the sky and it became a floating island.

- Hancita Toelle Ur Dvaras “Ur" means ruler. "Toelle" means True.

- Is also a Royal Prime Omega

- 27 years old

- Comes from a place called Lukiric which is in the far north.

Will Graham:

- Is not of Noble blood and is an Alpha

- Lives on his own above the mining town of Wolftrap

- Works in the Mines around the small town.

- Cares for seven pigeons - Winston, Buster, Mugluf, Avito, Dru, Stala and Pesoc

- Only child after his Father went looking for the floating Kingdom Island of Dvaras

- 34 years old

The Bella Gang (consisting off ):

Phyllis or Bella Crawford "Beta" - Female Pirate Captain of the "Lavender Dragonfly", a gentle kind warming soul that cares deeply for her family.

Jack Crawford "Beta" - Husband of Bella Crawford, works in the Engine room of the "Lavender Dragonfly" and can sometimes pretend to be deaf if their adopted sons annoy him when he is working, cares very deeply for his wife and their family and the ship they built together

Matthew Brown "Omega" - one of Bella's adopted son with roguish attitude and acts sometimes cocky then also flirts when he gets the chance.

Abel Gideon "Alpha" - A brutish looking of man, but is actually a big softie within and is affectionally called all manner of nicknames by his other siblings.

Freddie Lounds "Beta" - Female and the only one of Bella's Gang who is cared for very much by the other male siblings who consider her very much like them.

Tobias Budge "Beta" - another one of Bella's adopted son's and is more of the musician when there is time to relax, second in command and helps control the helm of the ship.

Eldon Stamments "Alpha" - Is the Medical man for the "Lavender Dragonfly" and makes sure that known of the crew ever get sick from disease or acquire painful injuries, lost one eye in knife-fight and has scar running down his left eye.

Chiyoh Maito "Beta" - the last of Bella Crew and is the Map-reader and Navigator who speaks sometimes English but prefers speaking her Native Language which thankfully Bella, Jack and Hannibal understand.

The rest of the Characters

Mason Verger "Prime Alpha" or also known as Maveris Palis Ur Dvaras - is also of the Royal Line of Dvaras, cares for nothing but his goal of finding Dvaras to use its power to destroy Earth and recolonize it by becoming the new King of Dvaras, plans to Bond with Hannibal to continue the Royal Line.

Colonel Cordell Doemlling "Beta" - a Colonel who fallen for Mason's trip into searching for Dvaras to find its treasure and is easily swayed by the man's words.

Garret Jacob Hobbs “Alpha” - A corrupt man, who Mason has hired to help him with his dirty work and used to have a daughter but she disappeared and has not been seen since, has no qualms in killing or getting rid of someone for Mason.

The Children left on Dvaras:

Margo Verger "Omega" - was left on Dvaras and choose due to the Giant Crystal's power still remains a Pup at the age of seven.

Alana Bloom "Alpha" - is the oldest of the three and is about 12 years old with fiery temper that came from her family who were Gardeners for the Royal Dvaras Family

Abigail Hobbs "Omega" - is the Daughter of Hobbs who somehow in some way ended up on Dvaras and it is uncertain how, she is the youngest being only 3 months hold only.

Georgia Machen "Beta" - Is also the same age and keeps close to Abigail has both them connected when they first met each-other, is about 5 months old.

Beverly Katz “Alpha” – A hybrid Fox-squirrel who plays with the children.

The other Mysterious Characters:

The Great Sequoia - This protects the *crystal with its large roots which extend beneath the Palace from the very centre where the large Rainforest Garden grows.

*The Dvaras Crystal - this is the main source of power for the Dvaras Palace and is considered to be highly dangerous in the hands of the wrong person who has with them the Royal Dvaras Seal Necklace - which is shaped like a teardrop and has the symbol on it of the Dvaras Royal Line. Only those of the Royal Line can communicate with it and use its main source of power.

The Royal Dvaras Robot Guards - Creatures of Artificial Intelligence that were either used for War or guarding the Royal Family from harm. Some were allocated to different roles - Gardener, Servant or Protector.

The Nightshade Plague - this is the dark secret of Dvaras which hides deep within the interior of the Palace where the stonework changes in geometric shapes and causes a person to distengrate from the within.

The Nightshade Plague Beasts - Another thing that happens if a person touches the Spore's Flower and will become a rampaging Beast that cannot be stopped by anything and will kill without mercy.

Lady Murasaki – The Spirit of the Giant Sequoia, while is said in Ancient texts to be a Queen.

PROLOGUE

Seven hundred years ago there was once a great Kingdom ruled by the Royal Dvaras Family and spread from the far corner of the world to the oceans.

Their power was vast and they wanted everything so they decided they wanted to rule the skies above. Using a crystal they had mined from the many Mines in their land and created floating Kingdoms high into the sky.

Disaster struck though when a fierce storm arose and destroyed all of the Kingdoms.

Except for one.

It is uncertain what happened to Royal Dvaras Palace, which was last seen heading into the Dragon’s Lair – a giant cloud with ever swirling winds dragging the white clouds around and around in an ever continuous circle.

The survivors that had survived on the land below, separated into two separate families – The Lecter’s and the Verger’s.

PART 1

The silvery moon hangs above inky black clouds illuminating some of them with white line. Above a ship, lights dimmed figures run down to the bridge connecting the Helm to the rest of the ship and a large black woman wearing aviation gear and kit grins at the sight of what is flying down below.

A large Army ship shaped like giant orca gliding through the ocean silently heading to a destination is making its way through the clouds and turning to look at three men – Matthew Brown, Abel Gideon and Tobias Budge – orders them to prepare for the Mission.

“Alright get the Copters ready!!! Let’s go!!!”

“Yes, Mama!!!”

Frenzied activity begins on the hovering ship above the giant, while down below within its interior the occupants are oblivious to what is about to happen in mere short time.

Hannibal Lecter – 27 years old and an Omega, even though he didn’t feel like one – sits on the window-seat in the sleeping cabin of the ship he been brought onto by the strange man called Mason Verger who had taken from his homeland of Lukiric. A place far to the North, where mountains towered above valleys filled with old Farmer’s cottages and lakes that shimmered and gleamed in the sunlight.

Here in this cold hunk of non-living metal, there was nothing to make him feel comforted and ignores the plate of food which one of Mason’s men tries to hand to him then hears Mason saying “Leave him, Garret. If he doesn’t won’t to eat then he doesn’t have to.

The plate of food is taken away and Hannibal continues to stare out of the circular window looking at the silvery moon that is illuminating then hears strange buzzing noise – like that of insect – then they soon appear coming out of the clouds, strange flying Copters shaped in certain way with what look Dragonfly wings – whirring fast in the night air.

He gets off the window-seat, when it comes closer to reveal a large black woman holding large cannon in one hand and grins at the sight of him or is she.

No, the necklace…. She’s looking at the necklace.

His hand goes it to it and he hears one of Mason’s other man saying, “It’s the Bella Gang, Boss.” and hears the Copter fly off to the front of the ship then explosion rocks the whole ship slightly. Mason snarls at this, heading to the door and stepping out into the corridor looking back Hannibal who is still standing there at the window.

The moonlight illuminating him spreads his shadow outwards in certain way and for minute he sees Mason frown at him only to compose himself when a muffled explosion happens followed by wood splintering close by.

“Keep them occupied. They must not get through at all.” Mason hisses, closing the door of the Sleeping Cabin and heads over to briefcase where he opens it to reveal a Morse code setup machine which he quietly sets up as Hannibal stays still then notices a bottle lying on the carpet.

Mason is too distracted in his work, when Hannibal brings the bottle crashing down on his head to effectively knock him out and looking around quickly opens the window feeling a strong wind whip his hair about then clambers out holding onto the sides as he begins to edge his way along the thin narrow ledge on the hull of the ship.

“MAYDAY!!! MAYDAY!!!”

It is a mad dash by The Bella Gang as Matthew, Abel and Freddie after jumping of their Copters soon rush towards the hatch which opens conveniently just some sailors of the flying ship try to come out of it with sub-machine gun as Abel – brute strength of the Gang – lunges at the two sailors effectively knocking them back down into the hatch as Matthew and Freddie follow up close behind him.

They jump down, causing Abel to give a groan of protest as he is used as landing for them and goes to get up when Bella finally lands within then it becomes a rush down a flight of stairs into the ballroom area where she runs on ahead to where the Sleeping Cabins are holding her cannon in front of her.

Screams of shock and surprise come behind her at the sight of her, while she finally reaches the white door on the other side of the ballroom and busting open would nearly gotten her life severed if hadn’t been for Freddie saying “Mum, look out!!!” and pulls back just in the knick of time as a Mason’s men begin to fire their guns in the now blocked hallway leading to the room where she had seen Hannibal being kepted.

Peeking out, after placing the tear gas grenade in the cannon Bella soon fires it towards Mason two worthless cronies to blind them and seeing it has worked indicates for Freddie and Matthew to move ahead then comes to stop at the closed white door.

“BREAK IT DOWN!!! HURRY!!!”

BREAK IT DOWN!!! HURRY!!!”

Hannibal, gripping the thin ledge for support outside hears the voices shouting followed by the Sleeping Cabin door being smashed to smithereens then voices talking within “Wait. Who is this? Mason!!!?” and another voice saying “Where is he? He should be here?” then orders to check everywhere and it is when one of them looks out the window that Hannibal finds himself trying to move to the next window quickly as they reach out for him nearly falling in the process.

“Dammit, Abel? Get to the other room and get Hannibal there.” He hears the strange black woman saying followed by watching him as she holds the young man who is insisting on being pulled back inside quickly.

Managing to reach the other window, Hannibal strains to hold on feeling though his fingers starting to slip just as the door slams open to reveal the big brute who he had seen next to the black women.

They rush forwards with a cry of “Come here!!” causing Hannibal to let go slipping off to fall straight down into free space.

Falling and falling ever downwards.

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

The Mining Town of Wolf-trap is lit by night-lights as Will Graham – Alpha and 37 years old - heads into the Eatery to gets some hot Meatballs for his Boss then places the food can on the front desk.

“I need some meatballs for the Boss.” He asks, making the Eatery owner take the can with one hand and reach for the ladle among the meatballs with the other then begin to serve them into it while saying to him “You’re working late again, Will. Anything new?”

“Not much. Just getting used to long hours.” Will replies, trying to make sure he doesn’t sound like he is really wanting to be somewhere else than stuck in the Mines of Wolftrap.

Walking up the steep hill path that lead to the working Mines of Wolftrap town, Will holding the can filled with hot meatballs with one hand begins wonders softly if he ever get the chance to do something different.

He finally reaches the crest of the hill to see in the far distance a strange bluish glow heading slowly downwards to the opening Mine pit making him run closer to soon see to his surprise and shock it is young male floating slowly downwards.

Running across the metal bridge the Mine Lift wheel is attached to he nearly falls off the edge of the small dock and manages to right himself quickly placing the can of meatballs down then holding out his hands watches as the young male floats just above his hands.

The source of the bluish light comes from a necklace around their neck, which soon fades away and their body weight nearly causes him to drop them then managing to carry them over to the balcony area with the railing lays them down.

“WILL!!!? WHERE’S MY DINNER!!?”

He hears his Boss shouting from below making him quickly get up and looks down into the open pit, seeing the large man is stoking the fires of the large Boiler then scrambling gets the food can filled with meatballs then after placing his waist-coat over the young male Omega – who looked to be in his 20s – scrambles down the ladder to the bottom of the pit.

“Sorry, Boss. Won’t happen again.” He says, going to hand the food can over when the Mine Lift bell rings making his Boss take it off him and heading over to the controls sits down in the wooden chair.

Taking hold of both of them, he calmly pays attention to the Mine lift rising up and it is only when he takes a quick gaze to see if the young Omegan male on the platform that it is quick second reflexes that manage to make him stop the Mine lift just in time then relaxing in the chair, wipes the sweat that had formed on his brow.

That had been close.

His Boss then chooses at the right moment to give light whack on his head for distraction.

@hannigramfanfic

#Hannigram fan-fic #Studio Ghibli AU

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