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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

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Wrecker x Homesick Reader (Part Two!)

A continuation of this ex-one-shot, but you can probably pick up everything you need to know from context.

Wrecker x f!reader: hint of romance toward the end

Word Count: 2,300 ish

Warnings: none

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You stood outside of the infamous Havoc Marauder, staring up at the ship with nerves tingling in your stomach.

Okay, coming here had seemed like a fine idea when Wrecker suggested it. Last night, it had even seemed like it might be fun. Added to Wrecker's promise that Tech would amp up the power and reach of your comlink? You had agreed to be here without a second thought.

Now, this finally seemed like a bad idea. The Marauder was looking rough after Clone Force 99's latest crash-landing, you had no idea if Wrecker had spoken to Tech on your behalf, and you hadn't even seen Wrecker that day. Plus, stupid as it sounded even in your own thoughts, you had never actually walked up to a ship without being expected. Were you supposed to knock? Shout? Should you just wait and hope they saw you?

As you stood, undecided, you thought seriously about going back to your quarters. If you were having second thoughts about this, Wrecker probably was, too. It would probably be best for everyone if you just left…

But then hydraulics hissed and the doors opened and the stairs attached to the ship dropped down. Tech appeared in the doorway, peering at you.

"You are the one Wrecker invited here, correct?"

"Uh. Correct?" you answered doubtfully. "He told me you might be able to help me with my comlink."

"Of course I can help you," Tech replied, his casual confidence making you quirk an eyebrow. He lifted his head to glance at the sky for a moment. "You'll have to come onboard the ship, however. The light conditions out here are too intense for such detailed work."

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, following him inside.

The Havoc Marauder was a smaller ship than the ones you had gotten used to at your time at Spearpoint Outpost. Of course, that may have been because a sheet hanging from the ceiling separated the entrance and cockpit from the rest of the living area, but you understood and respected the need for privacy. Four men living in such close quarters probably tried to keep things as separated as possible.

With that in mind, you resisted the urge to peek behind the truly giant sheet to see the Bad Batch's bunk space. Instead, you followed Tech up to the front of the Marauder. To your surprise, Sergeant Hunter was also in the small area. Remembering his keen senses and reluctance to be too close to other people, you stopped immediately.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" you offered. "I don't mind."

"Nah, come on in," Hunter invited. "I'm just doing some maintenance checks. Go ahead and sit down, though. I don't want to risk us clashing heads if either of us moves the wrong way."

You watched the sergeant for a moment to see if he was joking. The two of you weren’t even close to the same height, so several things would need to go wrong before you worried about bumping heads. You thought you saw an amused glitter in his dark eyes, but you had already begun turning toward the co-pilot's seat.

Tech sat down in the other seat. "Don't panic," he said bracingly, and he had ripped the cover off of your comlink before you had time to ask what he meant. Despite the warning, you still flinched at the noise of your comlink being broken.

You watched him in silence for a few long minutes, engrossed in the minute details of his work.

"Wrecker mentioned that you need this range increase to speak with your friends," Tech said, his quiet voice making you jump in the silence of the ship.

"My family, actually," you corrected.

You realized that the quiet sounds of Hunter working in the cabin behind you had stopped. You glanced back in his direction and he began fiddling with some exposed wires again.

"Where are you from?" Tech asked. "I'm certain Wrecker mentioned it before, but I cannot remember a place."

Wrecker talked about you? Feeling unreasonably warmed by that, you answered, "Bespin. Cloud City."

"Supposed to be beautiful there," Hunter said behind you.

"It is," you agreed readily. "Especially the sunrises. Or the sunsets, really. There are always clouds, so on a good day, the sun reflects off the water until the air is filled with more rainbows than there are stars in the sky."

"Impossible," Tech started, but Hunter cut him off.

"You must miss it. Sounds like you left a lot behind to be here."

You shrugged. "Not as much as some. Still, this was the right thing to do. I don't regret my choices."

Tech worked in silence for a while after that, doing something complex to the electrical components of the comlink.

Eventually, he said, "I've heard Bespin has odd customs. Parents often let their children form romantic relationships at early ages and people are encouraged to remain with those partners."

You didn't answer that and Tech glanced up at you questioningly. His fingers didn't stop manipulating the micro-spanner. The comlink sparked loudly and you grimaced. You hadn't even known a comlink could do that.

"Don't you need to… you know, concentrate?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice polite. You couldn't really afford a new comlink right now, and even when you could, a new communicator would take forever to arrive somewhere as remote as Spearpoint.

Rather than look back at the comlink, Tech's eyes slid over to where Hunter stood behind you, silent once more. Before you could turn as well, Tech’s gaze was back on the small device.

Sudden realization flashed through your mind. Tech's questions, Hunter's halting work on the Marauder… They were testing you. This was an interview to see if you were good enough for Wrecker.

You had always been excellent at interviews.

You sat straighter in the chair, dropping the tension from your shoulders as you fixed Tech with a sincere smile.

"You're thinking of Bespin as it was a thousand years ago," you told Tech, satisfied when he looked up at you with surprise half-hidden behind his goggles. "Those traditions were from before we had stable hover-lifts to keep cities at even elevation levels. It would be too difficult to re-identify a city that had dropped, risen, or otherwise changed locations. Young adults were encouraged to find someone they considered a potential romantic partner and share a dwelling before they lost each other forever."

"I…" Tech blinked. "I was unaware."

"We have a lot of legends about it," you said kindly. "Some of them are very widespread, so it isn't surprising you would have found one. I can recommend a good holotext about how we got to a more uniform elevation level and the shift to a more standard form of courtship. If you're interested, of course."

"I am extremely interested," Tech assured. "Have courtship rituals on Bespin changed, then?"

You shrugged. "Probably as much as those of any society that has been inhabited as long as Bespin. I wouldn't know a lot, personally. My first relationship wasn't until I had gone to college on Alderaan, and it certainly wasn’t with anyone from Bespin.”

Tech hummed quietly at that, refocusing his attention on your comlink. You waited to see what his next question would be, but the only noise in the cockpit was the sound of approaching footsteps.

You turned to find Crosshair stepping through the doorway. You managed a smile - not that it was appreciated or returned by the scowling trooper - but started to get anxious again. Where is Wrecker? Surely he hadn’t decided that you were more trouble than you were worth. If he had, why would his brothers be interrogating you?

Tech cleared his throat. “Did you stay on Alderaan long-?”

“You’re the one who spends so much time with Wrecker,” Crosshair said, staring at you. You nodded rather than risk displaying your nervousness in your voice. Crosshair grimaced. “Why?”

“Why… what?” you asked, utterly confused by his question.

“Well, most people find him irritating,” Crosshair pointed out, folding his arms across his lean chest. “Don’t you?”

“Never,” you replied instantly, your voice a bit too passionate for such a small space. “Wrecker is sweet and funny and cares more about others than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s amazing. If some people think he’s irritating, that’s their loss.”

Crosshair inclined his head at you before turning back toward the large sheet separating the living quarters from the cockpit. “There you go; an honest opinion.”

You blushed scarlet as the sheet dropped to reveal Wrecker. Apparently, the biggest Bad Batcher had been holding it in place pressed against the ceiling. You were marveling at that for a few precious seconds, but Wrecker had already moved on.

Beaming at you, Crosshair, and anyone else who bothered to look in your direction, Wrecker cheered, “Great!”

“Subtle, Crosshair,” Hunter said lowly.

Crosshair shrugged. “He wanted to know, and you and Tech were taking too long.”

“So,” Wrecker started, rubbing at the back of his neck as he moved to stand in front of you. Well, he was standing behind the copilot seat, really. The cockpit was crowded with you and every member of Clone Force 99 sharing the space. “I was thinking, maybe-”

“I am finished,” Tech announced, pushing past Wrecker to claim your full attention. He presented you with your comlink and, ignoring Wrecker’s huff of annoyance, proceeded to explain exactly what he had done to the device and how it should work.

You did your best to pay attention, but it was tricky with the other members of the Bad Batch standing in the background. Wrecker, understandably, looked frustrated. Crosshair was far too amused as someone watching one of his brothers accidentally torment another one. Hunter was the one really keeping an eye on the situation. When Tech had finally started to repeat an earlier point, Hunter interrupted.

“Tech, I need your help with one of the sensors in the rear deflector shield,” Hunter said, drawing Tech away slightly. “I’ve fixed the problem and reset the sensor, but it’s still registering as a bug in the system-”

As Hunter and Tech moved further away, Crosshair gave a sardonic salute and slouched off as well. You and Wrecker were alone for the first time, and he moved to sit down in the other pilot’s chair.

Sitting down, Wrecker seemed much less physically imposing. He was an undeniably large man, but at least you were almost the same height sitting down. Well, sort of the same height. Okay, not really the same height at all, but closer than when you were both standing.

Wrecker sat extremely upright in his chair as he started to speak. “Okay, now that they’re finally gone, I wanted to ask: would you maybe think about having dinner with me tonight? Here? I’ll get rid of the guys and we can have anything you want and I already cleaned just in case you said yes, but if you say yes, I’ll clean again just to make sure it’s really clean-”

“Wrecker!” you said laughingly, holding up your hands as if to stifle the stream of words. “I would be glad to have dinner with you. Thank you for asking me. It already looks clean in here, so please don’t feel like you need to go to any trouble.”

“That’s great!” Wrecker enthused after he had sat staring at you for a solid 20 seconds. He opened his arms. “Hug?”

“I’d love one, thanks,” you accepted gratefully, sliding forward until you left your chair.

Wrecker didn’t even give you a chance to stand all the way before he had wrapped you in another warm, squeezing embrace. You returned it as well as you could, but he pulled back sooner than he had the night before. You raised a curious eyebrow at him, but Wrecker gently disentangled himself from you and settled you back on your own seat.

“Actually, I have something else I need to say, and you need to be over there so you can be comfortable.” You raised both eyebrows at that, as well as at the sincere expression on Wrecker’s scarred face.

He avoided your eyes, but said it anyway: “I want to be more than friends. I… like you, but more than that. You know? Maybe you don’t. But I just wanted to make sure you knew that I would be happy to be your friend. If all you want is to be my friend, I think that’s great and I’m excited to be part of your new family here. Ugh, I’m messing this all up…”

You moved closer again, grabbing Wrecker’s hand as you did. “Wrecker, I’m glad you like me as more than a friend. It’s- That’s how I feel about you, too.”

“Really?” Wrecker breathed, definitely the quietest tone you had ever heard him use.

His eyes were lit up with hope and you smiled as you confirmed, “Really. But I haven’t dated a lot of people and I get the feeling it might be the same for you? So maybe we should take things slow.”

“That sounds amazing,” Wrecker agreed. “So should we reschedule dinner for another time?”

You smiled softly, hoping it didn’t come off condescending. “We don’t need to move that slowly, not if you’re comfortable with us having dinner together. I would like for us to be friends, too.”

“So it’s okay if I do this?” Wrecker asked, pulling your linked hands up to brush a kiss on the back of your hand.

It was such a simple, innocent gesture, but you had to fight a blush as you nodded. “It’s definitely okay if you do that.”

The pair of you grinned at each other like fools for an embarrassingly long time before you remembered a line you should draw. “Just please don’t leave me alone with your brothers again. They’re terrifying when they’re trying to look out for you.”

“I promise,” Wrecker said sincerely. “Though they like you, if that helps.”

“Thank goodness for that,” you murmured, glancing through the Marauder’s viewport to find Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair watching the two of you with knowing smirks.

---

A/N - All of the stuff about Bespin was invented by me. I know it's not correct, but it was fun to write and I have no regrets! Thanks for reading! Feel free to check out other works on my masterlist or make a request!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #wrecker #hunter #crosshair #tech #bad batch wrecker #bad batch hunter #bad batch crosshair #bad batch tech #star wars fic #wrecker x reader #wrecker x you

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fairydxll · 3 years

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𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

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butcherknives · 3 years

Note

Hcs about how the boys would propose to you? 🥺🤲

What a sweet request! I hope you enjoy! I really wanted to give you something high quality, especially for your mans Big D. Thanks for requesting, Ezra!

Sparda Men: Proposing

ft. GN! Reader

> SFW

Dante

The man, the myth, the legend never would have imagined himself in a committed relationship with anyone, and to have that someone be as magnificent – as perfect, as fun, as troublesome and anchored as you? He considers himself lucky in a way he doesn’t believe that he deserves.

For this reason, it takes him a long while to reconcile with what he wants; what he truly, irrevocably desires.

You. Forever.

He’s never believed in marriage. Never saw the point when it’s only another contract, no different than the ones he has his clients sign before he hoists his blade over his shoulder and enters the chaos with a sideways smile. A formal business agreement to show your loyalty?

Seems sus.

Yet the more time passes with you, the more he begins to see the appeal of taking your hand before the eyes of... whatever it is. The government.

It’s on a whim. (It’s always on a whim.) He’s weighed his options prior but the act? After spending the morning in your company, wrapped up in your languid love, he makes a snap decision.

It isn’t a special day until he makes it one when he blocks the television with his body and laughs when you complain that he’s a better door than a window.

“Hold on, hold on,” he says as he reaches for the remote to mute your show as you shout a quick “hey!” yet he swings around to face you, throws a wink, and slides down on one knee.

He doesn’t present anything. There isn’t jewelry or roses, no box of chocolates or bottle of champagne, only Dante with his thousand watt grin and his hand on yours. But Dante is a magnetic man with honey-sweet prose and your breath catches all the same. You need nothing else.

With your name on his tongue, he recites his love for you on center stage and though the whimsy makes you smother a laugh behind your hand, there’s no question of his sincerity.

“Love of my life, dearest of all, my heart beats only for you. Have you any idea the power you hold over me?”

And as his theatrics fade, he peels back the scars and wounds and opens his uninhibited heart for you. He tells you how much you’ve improved his life. How happy you make him.

“Waking up next to you every morning? Heh. I feel like I might just believe in angels, after all.”

His smile is syrup and sugar when you agree to marry him, and as he draws you into his orbit with a long kiss, you know you were made for this moment.

He jokes later that you should get matching tattoos on your ring fingers. His would say “for” and yours would say “ever.” You swing back that it should say “best buds.” He laughs and reels you into a hug.

He buys you an antique band, instead.

Vergil

Much like his brother, Vergil has never seen the point to marriage. To have to prove your loyalty? Should that not be simply understood through the relationship? What is there to further prove? More importantly, to whom do you owe explanation? Your relationship is sound.

He loves you. Is that not enough?

Humanity and their ridiculous traditions have no business being in his.

If it’s marriage you want, however, you will have to express this. Whether it’s because you believe in the practice – religiously, romantically, or a hybrid of both – or because of the tax benefits, he’ll need to hear it from you.

His answer isn’t immediate. He needs time to reconsider his own stubborn understanding.

You, however, come first. You always come first. Even when he doesn’t express it, he pays careful attention to what makes you feel safe and secure. If a marriage license is what it takes, then perhaps he can release his ironclad grip and compromise. It isn’t as though he hasn’t already planned to keep you near until, perhaps, you tire of him.

He supposes ultimately, there’s no harm.

When he comes back to you with his decision, there’s no fanfare. He doesn’t make a spectacle. He doesn’t offer anything beyond his company.

His approach is calm and formal, although you doubt he means for it to be. No, you’ve grown accustomed to Vergil’s peculiarities and your eyes aren’t deceiving you. There’s anxiety knotted between his brows and in the way his eyes seem unable to focus on you. Funny, considering how confident he’d seemed upon entry.

He says your name and stands across from you, hands folded neatly in front of himself. (Reserved, closed off, and you find yourself wondering what he’s up to.)

“I’ve considered your request,” he says, “for marriage.”

You nearly laugh, but you won’t damage his pride. You know how hard this is for him to reconcile, even as he steels his expression with practiced stone-perfection.

You prompt him with an inquiry and smile, patient and curious to hear his conclusion.

“If it’s what you want and you find me worthy, then I would be honored to have your hand.”

You throw yourself at him and reassure him that he doesn’t have to marry you, not if he truly doesn’t want to go that route. That you’d be happy simply knowing he’s yours, but he’s steadfast as he slides his arms around your waist.

“My heart belongs to you,” he says. “And I will gladly give it to you.”

Nero

He hates to acknowledge how much of a romantic he is at heart but he’s told you, in a moment of feathered vulnerability in the lull of conversation, how he’s always kinda-sorta dreamt of marriage. Nothing big, he amends. Only the most important people would be there, but he has envisioned it in a cathedral dressed in white.

“I know it’s lame,” he says. “And pretty fuckin’ stupid at this point. It’s not like anyone even follows the Order anymore. Who needs a cathedral?”

But you don’t think it’s lame or stupid, and you tell him that you’ve dreamt of marriage, too. You’ve always wished for some fashion of a family with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence, even though that isn’t your life and likely will never be. It’s alright to dream.

Nero falls silent. He doesn’t bring it up again, not for quite sometime. Time passes enough that you forget the conversation.

You never see it coming.

It’s your birthday and you’re finished celebrating with your friends. You get home, just the two of you, high from excitement of the day. And Nero says, “Wait-wait-wait. I’ve got another present for you. Hold on a sec, okay?” Then vanishes into the bedroom as you peel your shoes off.

When he meets you in the living room, his hand is behind his back. He’s shifty, bouncing from foot to foot, but he tells you to close your eyes with a wolfish grin. So you do. You cover your eyes with your hands and laugh as he shuffles around. You listen as hard but you only hear a click you don’t recognize.

“Okay, open ‘em.”

And he’s on one knee, a black box in his hand with a ring cushioned neatly at the heart. Your chest seizes. You think you might cry. Perhaps you already are.

“I know I can’t give you the life you want,” he’s saying, soft yet impassioned, watching you with rapt attention. “But I love you more than anything and I can’t imagine life without you. I... want to spend forever with you. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You say yes. Of course you say yes. You laugh through your mounting joy as he slides the band over your finger, reverent and fighting back his own emotion glimmering in his eyes.

He may not be able to give you “the life you want” from the dreams you had as a child, but you have no doubt that this is the life you want.

With him.

#devil may cry #dante #vergil #nero #fulfilled requests #all purpose writing tag #me clutching my own heart #please enjoy!!#p.s. likes and reblogs keep me in business

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vagrantblvrd · 3 years

Text

AU where Luke and Leia are the children of the queen of Naboo and powerful and well-respected Jedi Knight, just about the age to marry and it’s this Responsibility hanging over their heads.

Their parents would never marry them off to someone horrible, but that’s not the point, and anyway, anyway, they know their duty.

(It breaks their parent’s hearts, but barring the same sort of Very Specific and Unique events that conspired to allow Padme to marry Anakin the best they can hope for is to like their future spouses, so.)

But then!

Conspiracies and the whatnot, and whispers of war spreading across the galaxy thanks to some faceless warlord pulling strings from the shadows and so on.

Worlds that co-existed, thrived, suddenly at one another’s throats and out of fear for their children’s safety they arrange for them to visit dear friend Bail and Breha on Alderaan.

(There’s meant to be a celebration, eligible suitors for Luke and Leia while keeping them far from skirmishes that have taken place too close to Naboo.)

Unfortunately Leia gets sick just as they’re about to leave, nothing too worry over, lose sleep over, but travel would only make it worse so she’s to stay behind while Luke and leaves for Alderaan on schedule.

(He visits her, the night before he leaves. Sneaks into her rooms the way he used to when they were younger and supposed to be asleep hours ago but young and foolish and the kind of reckless rebellion of the young and so on.

Leia’s tired, still recovering but she still manages a smile, a laugh, when Luke tumbles in through the window a though their parents haven’t been training them since they were young.

Politics, of course, but their father is a Jedi Knight and their mother is the queen, and anyway, anyway, any clumsiness they show these days are deliberate, so.

They talk, aware this may be one of the rare chances they’ll get like this again, what with their duties and responsibilities and privileged as they are the universe is far from fair.

Luke smiles, jokes, but there’s a flat tone to it that Leia hears all too clearly and Luke -

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says, wry twist to his mouth.

It’s a childhood joke borne of the stories their father and his former mentor would tell them at bedtime, well-worn phrase that heralded the kind of adventure that made them into legends, and now -

Leia grips Luke’s hands tight in hers because she does as well, dread a heavy weight in her chest.

“Don’t go,” she tells him, knowing he has no choice in the matter. “Luke, please.”

It’s on her face, in her voice, her yes, and there’s nothing they can do.

So.

Luke smiles, jokes, reminisces with Leia about the adventures they had running around the palace and its grounds and causing no end of trouble to their minders when their parents were busy until Leia falls asleep and Luke slips out the window and back to his own rooms without waking her.)

Leia knows long before word reaches Naboo that Luke’s ship was attacked in transit, all hands lost.

(Knows when their father senses it too, his rage and grief enough to send her to knees, draw the tears she refused to shed until then. She’s Force-sensitive, yes, but her father and brother are stronger, and if he’s so certain Luke is gone, then there’s no hope left for her.)

BUT THEN.

Luke’s not dead, of course he’s not, what kind of story do you think this is?

As it turns out, Luke’s ship was attacked, but one of his guards, escorts, manages to get him to an escape pod and away from the ships painted to look like one of Naboo’s allies turned jealous and bitter and angry over years and some insult or other.

(Conspiracies on conspiracies and so on.)

Lands on a planet, rocky and desolate and very much alone, injured.

Stumbles out of the escape pod, emergency supplies held tight in hand and absolutely certain he can’t stay there. Can’t wait for rescue to come, not knowing if whoever attacked his ship might find him first and finish the job that claimed his ship and the lives of people he’s known since he was young.

Manages to get a decent ways away from the escape pod before exhaustion and his injuries lay him low.

Cave in the distance he might be able to seek shelter in, assuming there are no native predators or otherwise living there, and he almost, almost makes it before he passes out.

Comes to however many hours later to a voice he doesn’t know pitched low and annoyed, but the hands checking him for injuries - he hopes, would be the worst luck to be robbed, looted, after recent events - are surprisingly gentle.

“What?”

Luke said that out loud, didn’t he.

“...Yes.”

Luke would laugh if it didn’t feel as though his head might burst, result of his skull meeting with a bulkhead at inadvisable speeds, and that had happened before the escape pod landed, so.

“Sorry,” Luke mumbles, because he does have manners. “But if you are robbing me I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer.”

There’s a long pause then, whoever is there with him so still Luke has a moment to wonder if they’ve left, offended by Luke’s words or disappointed he’s not worth robbing and then -

“Hmm.”

Luke frowns, risks opening his eyes and sees a kneeling beside him, oddly shiny.

“’Shiny’.”

Luke squints, tries to make out the figure, but it’s difficult as there seem to be two of them, and -

“I think I might have a concussion,” Luke informs the oddly shiny figure, and passes out again.

Later, however many hour later, he comes to with that same annoyed voice in his ears, but now there’s a fire merrily burning.

Nice, because it’s nighttime now, and cold and -

“You’re awake.”

As far as observations like that go, it’s incredibly unimpressed.

“Hmm,” Luke hmms, fuzzy memory of his oddly shiny companion doing the same, and also Luke being a natural-born smartass,

(Hereditary, he’s been told, along with stubbornness and fondness for eschewing things like common sense and a flair for the dramatic.)

There’s a sigh, long and heavy, and then the sound of the oddly shiny person moving closer, shadow falling over Luke that he can’t see with his yes closed the way they are, but, well.

His father is a Jedi Knight and he and Leia take after him in noticeable ways.

Luke opens his eyes and thinks oh, and hmm, and Leia is going to kill me, because his companion is indeed oddly shiny.

Or, well.

Perhaps not so odd, what with the armor and all.

Din - because of course it’s Din - is super unimpressed with Luke and his everything and Luke is just ??? because Mandalorian???

Not known to be BFFs with Jedi or Jedi-in-training, like Luke???

But Din can be excused for not partaking in this old feud/rivalry/animosity between them because Luke isn’t dressed as it befitting someone of his position, no.

He’s wearing the clothes he prefers on long trips when the are no other dignitaries along because to start with, they’re comfortable? But also Luke likes to tinker??? Little projects and such and maybe his father sent along a speeder or some other tinker-able vehicle to keep Luke occupied on the trip, use when he gets to Alderaan or...whatever.

Doesn’t look like the royalty, especially after recent events, and nothing to mark him as the prince of Naboo, or a Jedi-in-training and sworn enemy of the Mandalorians, and really, it’s incredibly, amazingly convenient, but it is what it is.

Din grumbles and complains, but he stays with Luke until he’s able to stand on his feet and even walk a fair distance without falling on his ass, and sighs when Luke invites himself along later that day when he says he has business elsewhere,

And then the two of them traveling to...somewhere, Din didn’t volunteer that information and Luke was too grateful to be headed away from where his escape pod crashed and potential search parties (doesn’t feel like trusting to the fact they’d be friendly towards him) and so on.

Doesn’t chatter incessantly as the annoyed set of Din’s shoulders heavily imply, because Luke is still injured and while his head isn’t an agony at the moment, it’s hardly a joy to deal with.

But, he does talk.

A lot.

About everything and nothing, off on a tangent here, there, wander far and wide the better to annoy Din into forgetting what questions he asked Luke. (The ones asking who he is, how he got there, and where the hell he’s going next, because Din’s patience lasts only so long.)

To Dins quiet horror, however, he actually starts to like Luke???

Like.

Annoying, yes, with the talking? But he doesn’t complain about all the walking they’re doing, or sleeping conditions when they make camp for the night and so on.

And, alright, sometimes it does get a bit lonely out here - conveniently far enough away from settlements or cities where someone would definitely recognize Luke - but he doesn’t tell Luke that, goodness no.

They run into trouble, after a while.

People who took part in the attack on Luke’s ship and other baddies on Mandalore connected to them and it’s a matter of bad luck meeting worse luck, and anyway, anyway.

There’s a fight, and some guns with the pew-pew shootout and Luke being the one to save Din’s life, escaping with him to some abandoned mine or underground tunnels, something and -

“Ah,” Luke says, breathless from the running and hiding and saving Din’s life and then hauling him somewhere that was supposed to be safe, even with the help of the Force.

(His head is killing him again, nowhere near healed enough to expend as much effort as he has just now, but it that or die, and he’d rather not get Din killed as well since the man’s only shown him kindness - and his special brand of charm - and anyway. Yes.)

He’s expecting it to be the people who ambushed them, but to his surprise, wariness, dread, it’s a Mandalorian. (Armor’s a dead giveaway and all.)

One who cocks their head when they see Luke’s face, blaster dipping slightly at the sight of him.

Luke tries for a smile, but Din groans, low, pained, and the best Luke was able to do was check the wound wasn’t life-threatening and slap a patch-job bandage over it before they made a break for it, and -

“I don’t suppose it would be asking too much if you had medical supplies, would it?” Luke asks, expecting to get shot for his trouble - sass, snark - but the Mandalorian holding them at blaster-point huffs out a laugh and holsters said blaster.

Jerks their chin towards a side tunnel and strides off, clearly expecting Luke to follow, and after a moment’s hesitation - no way to know if the Mandalorian is taking them to their deaths - but no better option available to them, so Luke follows.

(Murmurs an apology to Din when he groans again, guilt heavier than Din’s arm slung over his shoulder, the weight of Din and his armor, knowing he wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d left well enough alone after stumbling on Luke. So.)

Mystery!Mandalorian leads Luke to a room with medical supplies stored neatly. Clean and well-lit and after getting permission - nod of Mystery-Mandalorian’s head and wave of their hand that seems more amused than mocking - Luke sets about properly treating Din’s injuries.

Fumbles a bit, because Luke’s still injured himself, over-extended himself in the earlier fight, and it’s catching up to him now they’re somewhere arguably safe.

(No one actively trying to kill them, anyway.)

Mystery!Mandalorian watches as Luke tries to et his hands to stop shaking - stress, injury, exhaustion, any of a dozen reasons and he swears, low under his breath because now isn’t the time -

He startles when Mystery!Mandalorian takes the medical supplies out of his hands, didn’t notice him moving close enough to do so, and allows the hand on his shoulder that guides him into sitting on a stool as they do for him what he can’t in that moment and looks after Din.

Watches quietly, closely, but Mystery!Mandalorian knows what they’re doing, and truthfully Luke knows if they intended them harm there would easier ways, more efficient ones than this.

So.

He watches Mystgery!Mandalorian tend to Din’s injuries, and blinks up at them stupidly when they turn back to him, head tilted just so.

“What?” Luke asks, and Mystery!Mandalorian huffs out a laugh, quiet breath of laughter and then it’s Luke’s turn to be treated.

Careful, gentle hands and Luke’s mind drifts while Mystery!Mandalorian cleans and dresses a blaster burn on his shoulder, graze courtesy of a shot he hadn’t seen coming, attention on Din instead and he knows if it were a normal (...somewhat) normal situation he’d get a lecture on that lapse.

(A lecture, his father’s face stern, and under it worry, concern for him Luke’s never doubted, and after that his mother and quiet, soft words interwined with the same firece love his father has for his children. .)

As it is...

“Thank you,” Luke says, hopes Mystery!Mandalorian hears the things he can’t find the words for, the gratitude he feels.

Mystery!Mandalorian studies him for a long moment, Luke returning their regard best as he can even as he feels his mind going slow, stupid, as exhaustion rolls over him.

He can feel Mystery!Mandalorian watching him, them, unexected guests, visitors, complications, and there’s another sigh.

A gesture towards an unoccupied medical bed, slight tilt of his head that feels of that same brand of amusement from earlier.

Luke eyes it longingly because he’s tired, isn’t he, too much happening in too short a period of time and this feeling in the back of his mind that something is happening.

Whispers and rumors building towards something catastrophic if left unchecked and murmurs though the Force he’s known all his life.

“Rest,” Mystery!Mandalorian says, gentle, kind. “I’ll keep watch.”

It shouldn’t be a reassuring as it is, shouldn’t feel like Luke is breathing his first full breath since the alarms on his ship started wailing, intangible dread he’d felt once they left Naboo’s made real.

And yet...

There’s something about Mystery!Mandalorian he can’t help but trust, and Luke’s mind is tired, muddled, clear thought a struggle but the way the Force coils around them is enough to set his mind at ease.

“Thank you,” Luke says, and the words aren’t enough to articulate what he means, but it seems to be understood anyway.

He makes his way to the medical bed, and it isn’t long until he falls asleep, swears he hears Mystery!Mandalorian say, before he does, strangely soft, fond.

“You really are just like your father, aren’t you?”, and with no little amusement, “Skwalkers.”

And then shenanigans???

Luke waking up to Din staring at him from his own medical bed, at a loss regarding their situation, everything, and annoye (at himself???) about it, because Luke saved his life, didn’t he?

Saved it, and saved it again by getting them to safety and out of the hands of whoever attacked them, and that’s about the time Mystery!Mandalorian shows up, and Din is -

Not thrilled???

Doesn’t recognize the armor, person, regarding the two of them with this underlying amusement. (It rankles, that amusement, leaves him wrong-footed.)

Still, he follows Luke’s lead when he insists Mystery!Mandalorian is a friend - “Well,” Luke allows, at the look Din gives him when he says that. “He hasn’t tried to kill us. Yet.”

Which.

Fair, if not a ringing endorsement, but it’s not like they have much choice in the matter when Mystery!Mandalorian tells them to follow them, and off they go.

Underground tunnels and such until they get to some sort of base.

Other Mandalorians and Din is like oh, no, because these ones he does recognize.

“Resistance,” he says to Luke who’s picked up on his unease, gaze flicking to Din’s behind Mystery!Mandalorian’s back as they’re led down corridors to meet with what must be leadership.

Because Mandalore and unrest and that same something Luke’s known about his whole life and the way it affects the universe around him and just, yes.

Mystery!Mandalorian cocks his head as the lift they’re on descends, listening in, and still that amusement.

“Indeed,” he says, and something about it snaps Luke’s attention to him, makes Din...wary.

Just as well the lift stops, doors sliding open and then more corridors that seem to go on forever until they reach a set of doors.

Mystery!Mandalorian glances back at them for a moment, and huffs a quiet laugh at whatever he sees, and then they’re pressing forward.

It’s...not what he was expecting.

An office of some kind, with a holomap table off to one side and monitors and consoles beside it. A stripped down version of the control room they passed by floors down, and a slight figure in armor, head bowed over the holomap table.

Mystery!Mandalorian clears their throat, a courtesy, and the armore figure lifts their head, looks over at Luke and Din.

At Mystery!Mandalorian, and there’s a look exchanged between the two, silent conversation before Mystery!Mandalorian glances at Luke and Din again.

Sighs, and reaches up to remove their helmet, crooked smile on their - his face - at the way Luke goes so, so still beside Din.

Silence stretches long enough for Din to feel it, the weight of the revelation even if he doesn’t understand it.

“Hello, Luke,” he says, tired, aching.

Sharp inhale, and Luke tears his eyes away from Mystery!Mandalorian to look at Din, something so very wrong with the smile on his face.

“It’s Ben,” he says, and his voice cracks as he looks back at Mystery!Mandalorian, laughs at something Din doesn’t understand, something that makes Mystery!Mandalorian wince, even as he holds Luke’s gaze when he looks back at him. “Old Ben.”

Din frowns, because the man is older than them, Luke, that much is certain, but surely not old enough to have earned a title like that.

Because, look, alright.

Look.

Obi-Wan and sekrit missions because everyone knows trouble’s brewing, and a duchess of Mandalore contacted Padme, and things kind of just. Grew from there, to the point Obi-Wan went to Mandalore as an emmisary, ostensibly for political reasons, but really to help root out what information he could with Satine’s help and things went wrong.

Had him, and Satine, presumably killed in an uprising, no longer a threat to an unknown enemy.

Until the resistance took root, grew, and other such things.

Satine and Obi-Wan at the head of it, getting what information back to Padme, Anakin they could and everyone agreeing it was best for the time being if they stayed dead.

And then Luke’s ship being attacked and everything that followed, and anyway, anyway welcome to the resistance Luke Skywalker and friend, glad to have you.

Luke is understandably confused, angry at having been left in the dark, and angrier still that he has to admit to the necessity of it.

(He understands, but he’d still mourned for Obi-Wan, his father’s former mentor, teacher, and beloved uncle to Luke and Leia. He understands.)

And then there are briefings, because it’s very much a war the resistance is waging, against a common enemy and while Luke pay close attention to everything he and Din are told, he watches Obi-Wan, Satine.

Thinks oh, of course, when it hits him why the way the two of them interacts seems strangely familiar, known, because it’s the way his parents are, isn’t it?

Familiarity and trust, a knowing, and that little knot of anger buried deep in his chest at the deception involving Obi-Wan’s supposed death all those years ago unravels until he’s no longer breathing around it.

And then!

Shenanigans in which Din very much tries to NOT be part of this madness, because no, okay, no.

Simple bounty hunter and so on, and Luke don’t look at him like that, it won’t work -

So of course that’s when things go to hell and the base is attacked and Luke is taken and Din finds himself staring “Old Ben” down in the aftermath because this may not be his war to fight, but Luke is an idiot.

“Well,” Obi-Wan says, corner of his mouth quirking. “He does take after his father that way.”

Dramatic Rescues and Dine being So Done with everything, but also, like. Being heroically injured by shielding Luke and Luke’s pale face and fear in the back of his eyes as he leans over Din to keep him from bleeding out.

Striving for calm, soothing Din in between yelling for help, Obi-Wan and the others on their way, and Din laughing at him because he was told Jedi didn’t panic.

“Shut up,” Luke says, laugh all wrong. “I thought nothing could get through Mandalorian armor?”

Well.

Things go fuzzy for a bit, Din remembers pain and blood and yelling - a lot of that - and then he wakes up in a medical center somewhere.

Not the resistance base, but he doesn’t recognize it.

“Idiot,” is the first thing he hears, and then, “Stupid,” and so on, and when he turns his head Luke is glaring at him.

He must make for a terrible Jedi, Din thinks, because Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachment, are they?

Dangerous, terrible, and yet.

“You are, yes,” Din says, voice haorse, more of a croak, and when he laughs at the affornted look Luke gives him for that it hurts - still healing and all - but so very worth it.

And then, okay, and then.

It comes out that Palpatine has been building a base of power for himself for years, slow patient, and setting his enemies at one another’s throats to weaken them.

Conspiracies on conspiracies and Din watches Luke as his father - his father, mother, and sister who hasn’t left Luke’s side since they arrived - tell them.

(Because, you know, because. Luke’s family and secrets weighing heavy and of course, of course Leia would not be held back, would not just let Luke’s death go so easily.

Would investigate, relentless, until she stumbled over everything and her parents and a shared look and she gets it from you, you know, and me? you have to be kidding, and I get it from both of you, now tell me what’s going on right now.

Adventures, because Skywalkers. A chance meeting with a scruffy smuggler and his long-suffering Wookie friend, and a rickety, rusty freighter

.Hey, that’s no way to talk about a lady, and as if you’d know, and don’t encourage them, Padme, and Of course not, Anakin, and heavy, resigned sighs because Leia has always been terrifying like her mother and somehow more stubborn.

A resistance - “Rebellion,” Obi-Wan says, glint in his eye when Anakin looks at him, “seems more fitting don’t you think?” - growing as well in secret.

Both brought into the light with recent events and untold battles ahead, and just.

It’s a lot.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Luke says, and Din doesn’t tense at his voice, quiet, something sad to it under his amusement.

Din hmms, glances towards Luke.

So much has happened since they meet, learned of things far bigger than them, and still -

“We’re meant to be enemies,” he says, a Mandalorian to a Jedi, albeit one still in training if what Luke told him is true.

Luke cocks his head, and still crosses the clearing to sit beside him.

Hmms, right back at Din and Din bites back a sigh, watching Luke from the corner of his eye.

With everything that’s happened, they’ve learned, the old grudge seems petty in comparison.

Also, Obi-Wan and Satine, and it hardly seems important anymore, long before his time as it was, and while Luke’s certainly many things, he’s never felt like an enemy.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, calm, cool of the night and so much between them they don’t have words for yet, and none of it unwelcome.

When Luke gets to his feet, holds his hand out to Din, he doesn’t have to think about it when he takes it. Lets Luke pull him to his feet with that surprising strength of his, and falls into step with him just as easily.

And then they have Adventures and death-defying shenanigans and such. Steal kisses here and there and never put a name to this thing of theirs, but it’s strong enough to last through a war and to the other side of it.

Would-be Empire scattered and broken and a good bounty hunter’s experience is invaluable in stamping out the remnants.

Almost as much as a Jedi Knight who earned their title through countless battles and conflicts, steady familiar presence at his side.And really, really, it shouldn’t surprise him so much when Luke gives him this soft little smile when Din comes home after a solo mission, small green gremlin of a kid he’d found (rescued) in his arms and knows their little family has gained another member.

(And again and again, because Luke’s just as bad as him and Finn and Rey are fine on their own, but Grogu? An absolute nightmare and evil mastermind and Din doesn’t care what Luke says, the small green gremlin child gets it from Luke’s side of the family.)

Also, though.

The day Finn and Rey met Poe (Ben a little confused, bemused, blissfully unaware of what he was witnessing) signaled the beginning of the end and Luke is absolutely laughing at Din, don’t think he doesn’t know what that looks like by now. >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #i absolutely wandered away from the main plot with this?#but yes #/o\#long post

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secretlysheikah · 3 years

Text

Blood and Bowstring

Well well well, I have something special for all of you! To celebrate getting to 200 followers on this little angsty blog of mine, I have decided it would be fun to write a little something for you all to enjoy. Its not very long, But I hope you like it!

Thank you all so much for supporting me and my writing! I don’t know where you all came from, but I am so happy you decided to join me. Thank you!

Start Here:

Wild as he was now called was still wary of the eight other heroes, but that was to be expected considering his past. Wild had spent his adventure alone, and even now, after his adventure was done he often found himself wandering Hyrule alone. It felt freeing, not having to answer to anyone but himself. But now, being around this large and rowdy group, he realized just how lonely he had been. He still wanted to have privacy, felt the urge to wander, but as a whole he didn’t mind the others. The various Links hadn’t been together for long but Wild could feel the tenuous bonds of friendship beginning to grow between them.

It had been about three weeks since Wild had been... Recruited? Asked to join? Added to the group, and there had been a bit of a learning curve. He had to learn how to fight in a group, which was a pain and he couldn’t just wander off anymore without being rounded up (by a wolf of all things) and then getting a lecture for his trouble. The chain, as the youngest of the group had dubbed them, had a mission, a dangerous one and it wouldn’t be good if he got lost or hurt when he wandered. Thinking of their mysterious mission Wild honestly didn’t really know what that they were supposed to be doing. Besides traveling between the different eras of Hyrule and fighting powerful monsters there didn’t seem to be much direction as of yet. Wild was pulled from his thoughts when a voice piped up from across the camp.

“Who do you think is the best archer?” Wind asked from his place next to the fire. They had just finished dinner and everyone was chatting amicably as they relaxed. This question had the group pause in their collective conversations as they pondered the question.

“Well I don’t want to brag, but I have shot keese from a far distance before.” The one called Warriors said proudly adjusting his blue scarf before he mimicked shooting an arrow.

“A keese? Are you kidding me pretty boy, how about something actually impressive,” Legend scoffed and was playfully jabbed in the side by the brown haired boy. Wild tried to recall the name of the other boy but found he was drawing a blank.

Wild had struggled with the names of his fellow heroes for a while now, there were some names he was able to remember easily. Like Legend, the distinctive pink in his hair made it easy for Wild to remember his name. Well that, and the fact that Legend often came off as a standoffish prick with the ability to cut your pride in half with a sentence also helped. Wild struggled to recall the name of the brown haired boy for a moment longer until it popped into his head. The boy’s name was Hyrule, soft spoken and kind, Wild liked him. Hyrule was a wanderer like himself and with the few interactions they had Wild knew he found someone to take with him if he ever had the urge to explore the new terrain.

The conversation quickly escalated from there with everyone trying to one up each other with more outlandish stories from their adventures. It was terribly amusing and Wild had an urge to join them but he decided to sit this one out and just observe. While he was getting used to the others, he still found that he didn’t want to offer too much information about himself just yet. It would be better to have an element of surprise just in case things turned sour.

Warriors as it turned out was quite the story teller, he boasted about feats that had no chance of actually being true. Though Wind did come up with some whoppers of his own. The conversation continued on, and Wild found that the most impressive story was told by Twilight. He claimed that with a special mask and some enchanted arrows he was able to take out a whole camp of bulblins (whatever those were) from over a large field length away. Not to be outdone Wind was quick to jump in and Wild had to hide an amused laugh when he claimed that he had to shoot a sea monster in the eye while trying to sail through a storm and a whirlpool all at the same time.

“It was nuts! I could barely see through the rain and the flashes of lightning!” Wind said, jumping to his feet and dramatically acted out the scene. Out of the corner of his eye Wild noticed how Legend winced slightly whenever Wind described the lighting. Curiosity burned inside him and he wanted to ask about it but one look from the red clad hero stopped that line of thinking before it even got started. Wild looked away quickly when he realized with dawning horror that he had been staring but it was too late, he had been caught.

“What about you Wild? Have anything to contribute?” Legend sneered and Wild felt his heart freeze. All eyes turned to him and he shrunk down under the weight of the stares. He hated having so much attention on him, it made him uncomfortable. Wild tugged at his hood. He thought about pulling it on hoping it would release him from the crushing weight of their stares, but he found he couldn’t get it to lift up. He could feel heat rising to his face, his scars began to burn and he rubbed at them in a vain attempt to quell the ache. Wild could feel his breaths growing quick and he longed for escape and fresh air. Luckily a voice sliced through his panic and he felt the eyes of the others shift away from him.

“Hey, It’s okay if you don’t want to share, we have plenty to go off of already,” the smallest hero, Four said, drawing the attention of the others off of Wild. He gave the other hero a short nod in thanks and after a moment of awkward tugging managed to pull the hood up and over his head. The weight of it calmed him slightly and he took special care to ensure that his face was hidden in shadows.

“Have anything specific in mind, Four?” The soft spoken hero, Sky asked with a sleepy yawn and a stretch. Wild felt himself slouch and he pulled his knees up towards his chest so he could rest his arms on top of them. He was curious despite himself, and he wanted to know what the others considered impressive.

“Well there was the lizalfos that he shot through the eye. That was pretty impressive given the fact that, from where he shot, there was barely enough clearance to see, let alone fire,” Four said matter-of-factly. The others nodded in agreement and Wild felt his eyebrow quirk up. He remembered that, it wasn’t a hard shot in his opinion, anyone could do that. He kept quiet though when Wind began to speak.

“OH! And remember the moblin he took down? He shot three arrows at once!” Wind added excitedly and the others murmured excitedly. Wild hardly considered that impressive, though he supposed he hadn’t seen the others do something like that before. As they continued to chat Wild still felt the tight coil of anxiety twisting around his gut. His heart thudded hard against his ribcage and he worked on calming it while he continued to listen to the others rattle off more examples of his archery prowess.

Even with all the eyes off him he still couldn’t stop himself from wanting to shrink down into a ball. He chided himself for being so weak, they were just talking about his archery skills. Though he could hear a distant bell of familiarity ringing in his mind. This whole situation felt very familiar in the worst kind of way and for some reason it made him very anxious, like he was being judged. In a way he was being judged, but it was all in good fun, he knew that. So why did he feel like he was about to get punished?

“Did you have any training?” Someone asked and Wild could only manage the barest of nods. The ringing in his head became deafening and he felt his muscles beginning to lock up. He could tell the others were still talking to him but they might as well have been miles away. His gaze became fixed on a point somewhere in the distance as everything began to fade into the background noise. He knew what this was now but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The memory was already pulling him away from the world and everyone in it. He took a deep breath and let himself fall into it.

************

Link felt the painful vibration from the bow string as the arrow was loosed. It landed with a solid thunk into the target making a tight grouping at its center. His fingers ached, his back muscles pulled and cramped painfully and his arms were little better than chu jelly. At the shout from his commander Link stood at attention ignoring the pull and burn in his back as he did so. Back perfectly straight and rigid and eyes staring straight ahead he schooled his face into a flat emotionless mask and waited. His commander walked up to the target followed by one of his subordinates and together they studied his handy work. Link could tell by their posture that they weren’t satisfied with his shooting. His fingers gave a painful throb and he felt something warm pool at the tip of his middle finger.

“Sloppy work,” the commander scoffed as he ripped one of the arrows free and eyed the hole left behind in the target. Link felt his mouth press into a firm line but he said nothing.

“I agree, this is worse than last time,” the subordinate commented blandly as he too pulled another arrow out from the target and examined the fletching. Link felt his heart begin to sink, he knew what this meant. They had already been shooting for over three hours now and his fingers were little better than raw and bleeding skin.

When they had begun with his archery training Link had been excited. He always had an interest in archery after watching the older soldiers practicing in the courtyard some years ago. But after a few rounds of shooting, his fingers became stiff and sore. His arm that held the bow had already begun to bruise and his shoulders had burned.

There had also been little in the way of actual instruction, instead they had just handed him the bow and a quiver of arrows and showed him how to stand. Other than that he had to figure it out on his own and he would have been lying if he said he didn’t find it difficult. Though taking into account his lack of instruction he thought he was doing fairly well. His superiors on the other hand had made it clear they weren’t happy with his progress. By the time they were finished shooting for that day Link couldn’t curl his index and middle fingers and his arm had such deep bruising that just the fabric of his shirt rubbing against his forearm caused pain.

It wasn’t until later that night around the dining table with the other soldiers that he learned that archers were meant to get braces to protect their arms and a special tab to help protect their fingers against the bow string. He found himself without words when he learned this new information. So he kept his head down and pushed his food around his plate, his apatite forgotten in the swirl of his own thoughts. At his next practice he asked his commander why he wasn’t given a guard and a tab and was met with a hard glare and a sneer. He was told in no uncertain terms that he must learn to feel the string of the bow before he would be allowed the luxury of a guard and tab. That day he was forced to practice archery until the sun went down, and it was the first time his fingers bled.

From that point on Link had made it a point to learn as quickly as possible so he could earn his gear. But after months of practice that left him with bleeding fingers and bruises he found he always fell short of his commander’s impossible standards of perfection. Every missed shot led to fits of rage and even when he honed his skills to the point of out shooting his fellow knights, it never was good enough. A scoff from the commander’s laky brought his attention back on the task at hand.

“Blood on the fletching, how disgusting,” the subordinate sneered as he handed the offending arrow to the commander. With a disgusted look of his own the commander ordered his subordinate to gather the rest of the arrows as he made his way back over to Link. He steeled himself for the tirade and surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pants and hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to get the blood out of the fabric later.

“sloppy work Link, you can do better than this,” the commander said as he brandished the arrow in front of his face for him to examine. There was only a small smear of red on the white and blue feathers, but it was enough to be noticeable.

“Look at this mess you left on this arrow, disgusting,” he said as he leaned forward and got into Link’s face. His breath smelled rancid and Link had to force himself to keep his face neutral in the face of his commander’s anger.

“Not to mention you can’t even manage to hit the target’s center! You’re at fifty paces, a toddler can do better than that!” He bellowed and Link felt spittle land on his cheek. Link could feel a tight ball of rage coil like a snake in his gut and it was a challenge to keep his silent mask firmly in place.

“And you call yourself the hero. Pathetic. How can we trust the fate of Hyrule to a hero that can’t even hit his target?” He asked and Link was sorely tempted to snap back. Instead he only blinked slowly, and let his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. The commander straightened and looked down his nose at him. His subordinate trotted up next to him and handed the arrows back over to Link. He took them mutely and placed them back in his quiver and waited for the next round of shooting to start. The subordinate looked at his hand and made a face at the small smear of blood that Link had accidently left behind.

“Honestly can’t you keep your failure to yourself?” He drawled as he leaned forward and wiped the offending blood on Link’s shirt. Link felt the something snap in his chest and without thinking words tumbled out of his mouth.

“Maybe if I had something protecting my fingers I wouldn’t leave my ‘failure’ on you,” Link hissed and as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had made a terrible mistake. In one swift movement his commander shoved the subordinate aside and whipped the arrow across Link’s face. Pain bloomed across his face as the fletching on the arrow made a fine slice across his cheek. He felt a welt beginning to rise and before he could straighten the arrow was brought across his face once again and this time he felt the arrow snap from the force. He could feel a new welt rising along his jawline and tears welled up in his eyes from the stinging pain.

“How dare you speak out of turn! You are meant to be seen not heard!” The commander roared, tossing the arrow aside and fisting Link’s shirt in his hands. Link forced himself to make eye contact, staring down his commander’s rage with all the spite he could muster. Link watched as the commander’s eyes flared with renewed rage and he was flung off his feet. He hit the ground hard and before he could recover he found the tip of a blade at his throat. He couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock, this was a new level of rage and a small part of him wondered how far his commander was going to take his threat. The look of malicious glee that spread across his commander’s face sent a chill through him.

“Not so uppity now are you. On your feet,” He commanded and Link slowly began to get to his feet, his eyes trained on his commander’s face. His breathing was heavy and Link watched for any change in body language that might indicate an attack. The tip of the sword followed him as he moved and when he was finally upright the tip of the sword traced the welt on his cheek that was left behind by the arrow.

“I should have you whipped soundly for this insubordination,” The commander said softly as the tip of his sword once again found the soft skin underneath his chin. Link had to force himself to regain his neutral mask and he raised his eyes to meet his commander’s cold gray eyes. Link could handle a lashing, it wouldn’t be the first time and with his track record he fully expected to receive more. But the look in his commander’s eyes made him think a lashing would be a kind alternative to the punishment he was about to get. Link felt his heart begin to race against as he felt the tip of the blade come to rest against his Adam’s apple. After a moment of contemplation his commander smiled and removed the blade from his neck.

“You know, you caught me in a good mood. Since you seem so determined to earn your guard and tab, you will shoot these arrows until your form is perfect.” He said with a small smile. Link felt his fingers give a painful throb at his words but he refused to show any weakness. With a curt nod and a determined glare Link inclined his head and reached for an arrow. The commander and his laky smiled evilly and moved off to the side allowing Link to knock and pull back his arrow to take aim. Link’s arm throbbed and blood dripped off his fingertips but he refused to make a sound, refused to show any signs of discomfort as he let the arrow fly.

******

The memory slowly faded away and Wild felt himself come back to the clearing. His fingers ached with the memory of the past and he had to force himself not to suck in a deep breath when he remembered he was not alone. Slowly he let his eyes wander around the camp. The others were still chatting about archery and looking around it seemed that none of them noticed that he had mentally disappeared. Wild bowed his head slightly and thanked Hylia for that small mercy. He knew he couldn’t hide his condition forever but he didn’t want the others to know just yet. A part of him feared they would toss him away if they realized he was broken in a way that couldn’t be fixed.

As casually as he could he brought his hands together and felt along the inner knuckles of his right hand. Thick calluses lined his middle and index fingers where the bow string would sit when he drew arrows back to fire. He wondered how long he had to shoot in order to earn his tab that day, if he ever earned his tab that day. A phantom ache throbbed through the joints of his fingers and he massaged the pain away absently. Wild was so engrossed in his thoughts he completely missed how the hero of Twilight watched him out of the corner of his eye.

#secretlysheikah #the sheikah writes #loz #linked universe #wild linked universe #lu #the linked universe #one shot #this may be a start of another fic #i havent decided yet #I really like it #linked universe fanfic #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #angst #thank you so much!#thank you followers #fanfic writer

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

When they meet for the first time, they don’t really recognize each other. There is a sense of familiarity, though, a fleeting feeling that disappears the moment their paths diverge again.

Levi enters the temple, scowling as a smell of a dozen candles enters his nostrils. If he were at any other place, he’d start complaining right away. But this is a place for worship, and even though, he doesn’t truly believe in the power of gods, he’s not brave enough to defy them either.

Despite his best efforts to mask his discomfort, she sees right through him. She giggles, utterly delighted. Levi looks up, his eyes wide. She’s nothing like any other priestess he had met before.

He kneels before her, kissing her hand.

“I came here at my master’s request,” he begins with his head still bowed. It’s a sign of reverence, but also a way to hide his uneasiness. Those brown eyes of hers are too vivid, too bright. Looking at them feels like he’s staring at the sun. He feels that if he gazes for a moment longer, he will never be able to tear his eyes away.

Maybe, that’s the sign on her Oracle's powers. Or, maybe, divine intervention.

“I know why you are here,” she replies, her voice deep and melodic. She comes closer and grabs his arm, making him stand up. “Your master wants to receive a prophecy. He won’t like it.”

“So the war…”

“Will not end in your favor,” she finishes for him. “I’m sorry,” and Levi knows she truly is, can see it in the curve of her lips and the remorse inside her eyes.

“Thank you,” he bows again. He reaches out to touch her hand, simply because he wants to feel the warmth of her palm. She intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand.

She smiles, and Levi has a fleeting thought that in another life, he would have died for that smile.

“Your master won’t listen, right?” she whispers, and her smile turns sad.

“He won’t,” he shakes his head. “So that is our first and last meeting, Oracle.”

“May we meet again, Levi,” she says, and Levi doesn’t quite remember introducing himself to her.

“Watch over us, Hange,” her name slips easily from his lips.

She hasn’t introduced herself either.

***

When they meet for the second time, Levi is but a simple servant. He’s working at house of a Florentine banker. His master is an important, wealthy man, who has more money than he knows what to do with. As his servant, Levi spends his days, scraping the marble floors and wiping the golden ceilings until they glisten like a sun in the sky.

He hears about her before he sees her. She is an artist, a rising star and the talk of the whole city. Some say that she’s a genius, whose hands are blessed by the God. And some say she’s a psycho, whose dangerous, heretical ideas would certainly lead her to the deepest pits of hell. Levi doesn’t really care either way, he was never the one for gossip.

What he cares about, though, is the invitation she receives from his master. She is to paint the master’s daughter, so she will be living in their manor, until she finishes the portrait. And so Levi has to work twice the usual, making sure that everything looks perfect for the important guest.

When he sees her for the first time, she passes him by in a hallway. She is walking by his master’s side, gesticulating wildly as she tells him about her next project. The afternoon sunlight dances on her skin and hair, enveloping her in a warm shine. Levi is utterly mesmerized, and so he allows himself to stop for a second and admire the sight in front of him.

He reprimands himself for it later, when he lies in his bed and all he can see are the cheerful grin and brown, excited eyes.

***

When Hange sees him for the first time, she grabs his face in her hands.

“Oh,” she breathes out, an impossibly wide smile on her face. “You’re magnificent.”

She looks as though she lost her mind, but Levi doesn’t even think about taking a step back. He stares back at her, feeling something tighten in his chest.

“Let me draw you,” she whispers. “Just one drawing, please.”

Levi should say no. He’s busy all day, he doesn’t have the time to cater to the whims of some crazy, bespectacled artists. He means to say no, almost says it.

In the end, he doesn’t have the heart to outright reject her.

“I work during days.”

“I can— I can come to you at night, you don’t have to be awake, I just—” she ruffles her hair, frustrated. “I just really need to draw you.”

She’s clearly asking for too much, and her offer sounds more than a little bit creepy. Still, Levi is reluctant to refuse.

“It’s best if I come into your room at night, mine doesn’t have enough lighting.”

“Of course!” she beams. “I’ll be waiting, thank you so much!”

She looks so earnestly happy, so excited and giddy, Levi’s own lips almost curl in a smile. He lowers his head, hiding his amusement before she can see it.

“My name is Hange,” she offers, still smiling.

He knows it, of course. It’s hard not to, when she’s practically a living legend.

“I’m Levi,” he answers.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she chuckles. She presses a hand to his shoulder, squeezing it firmly, and then she is gone.

Levi stares after her for a solid minute, standing in an empty hallway like an idiot. It was just a simple touch, a common gesture, but it leaves him shaken to his core. It feels familiar, Hange feels familiar in a way he can’t yet comprehend. He feels like they’ve met before, feels like he knows Hange, even though he doesn’t. He just met her, but it doesn’t seem this way.

He closes his eyes and sees Hange, but that’s not— not the Hange he has seen moments ago. She’s not wearing a white puffy shirt and dark leather pants, the Hange in his mind is dressed in brown jacket and bright yellow shirt. She holds two blades in her hands, but they look nothing like the swords Levi is used to seeing. Hange doesn’t just stand either, she’s flying through the air.

And the weirdest thing – Levi’s flying next to her.

***

When he comes to her room late at night, Hange lounges on a couch. There is a glass of wine in her hand and a lazy, dreamy smile on her lips.

As soon as Levi enters her room, she jumps to her feet. The movement is sudden and erratic, and it causes the wine in her hands to spill onto her shirt and the floor beneath her feet.

Levi glowers – he had scraped this carpet clean just days ago - and crosses the room in two short strides.

“Fucking hell, four-eyes,” Hange’s eyes widen as soon as the words leave his mouth. Levi freezes too, his mind scrambling for an explanation for the weird nickname.

Hange is the first to recover. With a soft chuckle she takes a step back. Her fingers are in her hair and she awkwardly scratches the back of her hand.

“I should change,” she says, more to herself.

Levi wants to protest, wants to offer his help, wants to do at least something. His heart constricts painfully at the thought of Hange leaving him, even though the rational part of him knows that she’ll be gone just for a few minutes. With a considerable effort, he persuades himself to relax and nods.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Hange asks, before she turns around. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible!”

Levi sighs, fighting back a smile. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks!” she chirps and then dashes out of the room.

When she comes back several minutes later, she sits Levi down on her coach.

“Make yourself at home,” she winks, gesturing to a table full of various fruits and sweets.

“I don’t think I sh—”

“Don’t be silly,” Hange chides. “What’s yours is mine.”

"Alright," Levi agrees, popping a grape into his mouth. It's too sweet for his taste, but it's not often that he gets to eat anything better than the scraps of his master's dinner. He decides to savor this moment and eats another grape.

Without wasting any second, Hange takes out the easel and sets out to work. At first, Levi feels awkward. Hange looks straight at him, seemingly unblinking. Her attention is focused solely on him, and Levi desperately tries to stop himself from fidgeting.

"Should I do something?" he blurts out, when Hange starts eyeing him critically.

"Not at all," she answers with a cheeky grin. "Relax and be yourself. Just try not to move too much, alright?"

"Of course," he murmurs and settles back onto soft pillows.

He lets his guard down completely and closes his eyes. Hange is practically a stranger, a person he met just a few days ago, but he feels safe with her. He trusts her, despite his life teaching him that he should never trust anyone, but himself. However, Hange seems different from all the people he has met before. She is different, there is something familiar about her, as though they've known each other for years.

Levi doesn't quite know what to make of it.

Despite his troubling thoughts, he relaxes. The sound of charcoal scrapping against the paper and the softness of the coach underneath him slowly lulls him to sleep.

He wakes up hours later, when Hange gently shakes his shoulder.

"Hey, sleepy head," she says with a smile so pretty, Levi feels an acute desire to taste it on his lips. He almost leans in, but, thankfully stops himself at the last moment. He tries to put the blame for the weird impulse on his still sleepy state, but the excuse sounds hollow even to his own ears.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep. Did I ruin your drawing?" he moves to get up, but Hange's hand on his shoulder presses him back down.

"No, no," she shakes her head ever so slightly, and the strands of her brown locks hit Levi's face. That's what makes him realize their close proximity. Hange's kneeling by the coach, and her nose almost touches his chin. Levi looks down at her, and the feeling is alienating, so weird and wrong, it makes him uncomfortable. Shouldn't it be the other way?

"I've finished it already. It's only a rough draft," she comments self-deprecatingly. "But I wanted you to see it," she hands him the easel. "What do you think?"

Levi looks at the drawing for a long, long moment. Every single person who had ever praised Hange were right, her art skills are phenomenal. Staring at the easel feels like he is staring in the mirror. Hange got every detail right, down to the crease between his eyebrows and the small scar on his left cheek. In the picture, he is holding two blades in each hand, and with a start Levi realizes that that these are the same blades he imagined earlier that day.

"What the hell, four-eyes?" he scowls at her. "Don't you know how a real sword looks like?"

Hange rolls her eyes, her smile never faltering. "I just decided to draw them this way. Don't really know why, though."

Levi doesn't know it too, but he knows there is a connection between his vision and Hange's drawing. He also knows that there is a connection between them. He knows with absolute certainty that it's not the first time he had met Hange.

And something tells him that it won't be the last time either.

Before he can contemplate it any further, though, Hange presses her lips to his. Levi hesitates for just a second, just long enough to settle the easel carefully on the floor. Then he fists his hands in Hange's hair and returns the kiss just as passionately.

*** Later that night, after they did what a servant boy should never do with a high-born artist, they lay together in bed, basking in each other's presence. Hange’s her arms are around Levi, and his cheek is pressed to her chest. The sound of her steady, rhythmic heartbeat is oddly calming.

"There are so many things we don't know yet, Levi. I have so many ideas, so many inventions I want to create..."

Levi listens to her ramblings with a slight curve of his lips. Hange's bright, excited eyes and hopeful words evoke something in him, something akin to nostalgia. He closes his eyes and sees the endless sky and the green hills beneath him. He sits atop a giant wall, and Hange's by his side, her shoulder pressed against his, and she talks and talks and talks, speaking of a better future and new discoveries. He shakes his head and the image disappears. Levi slowly opens his eyes to see Hange stare at him.

"After this commission is over, I want— I want to go to Rome, and then I want to visit Constantinople," there is a wide happy smile on her lips, and Levi reaches out to kiss the corner of her mouth. Hange's smile grows bigger and her gaze becomes softer. "Would you like to go with me, Levi?"

Yes, Levi almost says. But deep down he knows that's impossible. Hange's a genius, a prodigy, and he's just a servant. There are miles, worlds separating them. They've found each other, but they're not meant to be. Not yet.

"No," Levi answers with a rare softness in his voice. "My place is here."

Hange's smile becomes sad, but she nods and presses their foreheads together.

"Then I'll see you in another life?"

"Later, Hange," Levi agrees and allows himself to smile.

***

They're only kids when they meet again in another life. Hange, as always, is bold and energetic and she befriends the gloomy and awkward Levi almost by force. They become practically inseparable ever since. They stay by each other's side throughout childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. The whole town expects them to marry the moment both of them are of age. Levi’s own mother often nudges him to propose to Hange and start a family. And he wants to, he really does, but not now. What they already have is nice enough.

"There is no need to hurry," Hange says, when they sit together under a shadow of an oak tree. The soft morning light makes her look absolutely radiant, and Levi loses himself in watching her smile. He leans in and presses a kiss to it, thinking that Hange is right. There is no need to hurry. They have all the time in the world.

They spend another few years in bliss, carefully toeing the line between friends and lovers, and when the time comes for Hange's twenty-fifth birthday, Levi goes to her house, intent on finally confessing his feelings. He prepares the speech and even robs his mother's garden of a few sunflowers. He feels more than a little bit awkward, he isn't the most eloquent or romantic person, but Hange knows him like no one else does and Levi finds immense comfort in the thought that whenever stupid shit will come out of his mouth, she will be able to understand him all the same.

Whatever words he had prepared and rehearsed, though, die in this throat the moment Hange opens the door. There is a glint in her eyes and a blush on her cheeks that makes her look almost feverish. Levi has a sinking feeling that he knows the reason for it. The crudely drawn pamphlet in Hange's right hand only heightens his suspicion.

"Levi!" she proudly shows him the pamphlet. "They— they are recruiting! The army is going to pass our town on their way to Saratoga and I'm going to join them. I— I will finally have the chance to do something! To fight back the oppressors! To bring freedom to our people!”

Hange’s speech is strangely familiar, in more ways than just one. Obviously, it’s not the first time Levi has heard about her dreams of building a better future for their nation, but as he stares at the righteous fire inside Hange’s eyes, as he tries to picture her in battle, he sees her fighting giant, ugly creatures and not the soldiers in red coats.

Levi blinks a few times, forcing the bizarre vision away. Evidently, Hange’s departure, although not unexpected, leaves him shaken to the core.

"Oh, you brought flowers!" Hange claps her hands in delight. "What's the occasion?"

Levi gives her a flat look. "It's your birthday, shithead."

"Oh, right!" she slaps her forehead. "I totally forgot about that."

"Idiot," Levi flicks her nose, making Hange yelp in pain and cover her face. She glares and he smirks, daring her to retaliate.

She sticks her tongue out and Levi rolls his eyes. He turns around, heading to the kitchen to find the only vase Hange owns.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she announces, while Levi rummages through the kitchen cabinet. His hand hovers in the air, as he tries to find his breathing.

"I can't go with you," it comes out in a shaking whisper. He lowers his hand and grips the table so tightly, his knuckles become white.

"I know," Hange answers just as quietly. "You have to care for your mother, Levi. I understand." She comes to stand around him, wrapping her arms around his body and pressing her chin into his shoulder. "I'll come back before you know it. Just— wait for me, alright?"

"Wait for you?" Levi echoes, confused.

"Well," Hange chuckles warmly. "Don't go marrying someone else before I get back."

"Idiot," Levi raises his hand and entangles it in her hair. "Everyone knows I'm crazy for you."

"You're crazy for me, huh?" she shifts her face to kiss his cheek. "Is that really so?"

"Unfortunately," Levi replies, turning around and pressing his lips to her.

The sinking feeling inside his chest doesn't disappear, but with Hange in his arms, he almost forgets about it.

***

Hange leaves the next morning, and the hollowness takes over Levi's heart. He worries about her, constantly. Day and night, he wonders how is she doing and what is she doing. Hange writes him, of course. She sends letters, where she talks about her brothers in arms, her superiors and trainings. She tells that the food there is horrible and that she hates waking up before sunrise for the morning drills.

Other than that, though, she seems happy, excited at the prospect of fighting for her motherland. She writes about her new friend - Colonel Erwin Smith. She gushes about his intelligence and courage, and as Levi reads it, he imagines Colonel as blonde, blue-eyed man. He sees him so clearly in his mind, as though they've met before.

In the next letter, Hange confesses that sometimes she feels like she has known Erwin for a very long time. She writes that it seems like they’ve already met before.

"You will like him too," she adds, before she goes on to complain about cold nights and drinking soldiers.

Several months later, Kenny shows up at their doorstep, claiming that he came to see his dear sister. Reluctantly - Kenny's arrival always means trouble - Levi lets him in.

In the evening, his uncle gets drunk and starts talking about a new gig of his.

“I’ve acquired a tavern in the New York,” he smirks proudly. “All the red coats love it. They drink like pigs,” Kenny adds dreamily.

And Levi gets an idea.

As soon as Kenny passes out, he grabs pen and a paper, and starts writing to Hange.

She likes his plan and promises to talk it through with Erwin. He agrees to it without hesitation.

Now, every once in a while - whenever Hange asks him - he goes to help with Kenny's tavern. He pours the drinks and cleans the tables. He listens intently to the talks around him. Sometimes, he drinks with soldiers too - when asking directly, it is much easier to get the information out of them. He is careful not to be too obvious, though. Most of them are drunkards, but not idiots.

It is dangerous to pass the numbers of their ranks, the location of their troops and the plans for their future attacks in the letter, so Hange comes to get them personally. They meet in the forest that surrounds their small town, careful to be as discreet as possible. Hange never stays for long, always in a hurry. But Levi adds some home-cooked meal to each of his messages, and Hange always stays just long enough so they could eat it together.

Only during those short meetings, those fleeting moments Levi feels truly alive.

***

The war lasts longer than any of them had anticipated but Levi is patient. Hange promised she'd come back, and he trusts her. In all the years they've known each other, she had never broken her word.

In the last letter he receives from her, she is optimistic as ever. The war is almost over, she assures him. Soon we'll be together again, she adds. As always, Levi believes her.

In the following week, the news finally reach their town. In the battle of Yorktown, the British surrendered.

Levi smiles for the first time since Hange left.

She is finally coming home.

***

Another week passes, and Levi is in the middle of dough kneading. He hears the knock on the door, and his heart swells. He shouts to his mother that he'll get it and rushes to the door, not even stopping to wipe off his hands. She was never against a little mess, after all.

When he opens the door, however, it's not Hange who stands at the other side of it.

The blonde man with bright blue eyes - Colonel Erwin Smith, Levi realizes immediately - wears a grim, solemn expression.

"I'm sorry," he says. "She was a hero," he adds.

Levi nods, feeling numb, and lets the man in.

He makes them tea and sits Erwin in his kitchen. It's quiet at first. Levi stares down at the table, his hands trembling and his head spinning.

He doesn't understand. It's Hange, Hange, his weird and wonderful Hange. She can't be dead. She can't— she can't just leave him. She promised to return, promised to come back to him.

He slams his cup against the wall. It shutters into dozen pieces. Levi stares at it, unblinking.

Alarmed by the loud sound, his mother runs out of her room. Erwin hurries to calm her down and then he comes back to the kitchen. He cleans the mess Levi made and then firmly squeezes his shoulder.

"Do you have something stronger than this?" he asks, gesturing to the tea.

Levi nods, absentmindedly, and gestures to the cabinet above the sink.

Erwin pours them two glasses of bourbon. Levi downs it instantly. Erwin follows his suit and then he starts talking. He tells him about Hange's days in the army, how brilliant and talented she was, how much dedication she had for their cause.

"Before her death," Erwin begins slowly. "She— she asked me to tell you - she'll find you again. In another life."

"In another life," Levi repeats, his voice hollow and bleak.

*** The next time they meet, Levi is already dying. He doesn't need the doctors in white coats and with stethoscopes in their hands to tell him it's consumption. He knows very well about the disease, has seen many associates and friends, his own mother die from it. He knows what to expect. What he doesn't expect is a smiling, friendly face.

Doctor Hange Zoe is a genius, or so the nurses say. They say she was asked to work in the best clinics of Britain, but she chose St Thomas Hospital, simply because she wished to help the needy. She's weird and eccentric, too intense sometimes, but also gentle and caring. Most of the patients adore her.

"You look awful," she announces chirpily, when she visits Levi's ward for the first time.

“I’m dying,” he answers bluntly.

“Ah, yes,” Hange bites her lip, shoving hands into the pockets of her coat. “Let’s try to do something about it, yeah?”

***

She tries to save him, she really does. Hange spends days and nights by his side, trying remedy after remedy. In the end, nothing is stronger than the disease.

When his time comes, when Levi lies in a creaking hospital bed, he’s a sweaty, trembling mess. Hange doesn’t leave him even then. She frets over him, adjusting his pillow and fixing his blanket.

“I should— maybe, you want a glass of water?” she paces around the ward, nervously ruffling her hair. “Or maybe, I should bring you another blanket? A warmer one? I can ask one of the nurses—”

“Hange,” Levi croaks, lifting his hand to weakly grasp her wrist. “It’s over. You know it, I know it. Just calm the fuck down.”

“But you— you’re dying. How can I be calm about it?”

“Come here,” with the last strength he still possesses, Levi scoots over to make a place for Hange on the bed. She sits by his side and takes his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. Her other hand is in his hair, and her fingers gently push the sweaty strands away.

“It’s okay, Hange,” he looks up at her, his eyes shining with fever and something much, much softer, something that Levi doesn’t want to name. Not now, when he’s on his death bed. “I’ve lived more than I expected to anyway. And I’m glad— glad that I got to meet you. I wish—” he pauses, clearing his throat. When he speaks again, there is a feeble smile on his lips. “I wish we could have stayed in that forest, though.”

“What?” Hange freezes, frowning in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “Just felt like saying this to you.”

It’s probably the fever messing with his head, but this feels familiar. Hange looking down at his weak, incapacitated form, her expression solemn, worried and exhausted. It happened before, Levi is sure of it. And looking into Hange’s wide eyes, he knows – she’s sure of it too.

It isn’t long before he draws his last breath. The last thing he feels is the gentle kiss Hange presses to his forehead. Levi dies with a smile on his lips.

***

When they meet for the next time, they both are finally in their element. They're at war, and amidst all the horror, pain, death and tears, the only thing that keeps Levi together is the knowledge that Hange's here with him and she always has his back.

It's almost unnatural how well they work together. They're two parts of the same mechanism, perfectly synchronized. Hange's the brain and he's the brawl. There is no one else he would rather do it with.

It happens when no one expects it to. It's one of those uneventful days, when the sun shines brightly and the sky is clear.

Levi smokes a cigarette and watches the cadets run drills. Usually Hange stands next to him, teasing the young soldiers. But this morning they've managed to intercept a coded transmission, and she had been mulling over it with Armin for almost three hours now.

Levi is about to take the last drag of his cigarette, when Armin runs out to the training field, his eyes wild.

“T-the enemy!” he shouts and then doubles over, putting hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. “The enemy!” he repeats again. “They’ve discovered the location of our base. They’re coming for us!”

Hange comes to stand behind him, her face grim. “We need to evacuate and quickly. Take only the most valuable.”

“Will we be able to escape?” Jean wonders. “Armin said they’re already coming. How long do we have?”

“Not long,” Hange answers truthfully. “But if you hurry up, you’ll be able to escape.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Connie frowns.

“Someone has to buy some time. I’ll hope up in an aircraft and try to slow them down. Now, shoo, you all. I’ll see you later.”

Levi watches Hange smile and his heart falls. He knows where this is going, knows how this is going to end. He doesn’t wish to repeat it.

“Four-eyes,” he growers. “What the hell—”

“My time has come, Levi,” her lower lip starts shaking and she bites it, refusing to meet his eyes. “I want to look as cool as possible, so just let me go, alright?”

“We can— can do it together, then maybe—”

“No,” Hange resolutely shakes her head. “Levi, they need you. The kids, they’ll need some guidance after I’m gone. Armin is great, but he’s young. Take care of them.”

“Hange,” he knows he won’t be able to stop her. So he accepts it, same as he accepts every part of her, good or bad. They share the same flaw, after all. Their duty always comes first. Their love for freedom and humanity is more important than their love to each other. It’s always been the same, they’ve always been the same.

So Levi presses his fist upon her heart, staring right in her eyes.

“Dedicate your heart,” he whispers. He leaves before he can change his mind. He runs away before Hange can come up with a witty comeback. He gets to work and helps the kids with loading the weaponry before his resolve crumbles.

When he is driving a car, taking all of them away from the fight, he tries to pretend that the sound of crushing aircraft is only in his head. He tells himself that the tears in his eyes are caused by the bright sun ahead of him. He pointedly ignores his broken heart.

***

Their next meeting is the most mundane of them all. In truth, it’s so ordinary that Levi doesn’t quite believe it. It’s hard to call any of them ordinary after all.

There are no deaths this time, no war or diseases, or pain. They are common people with ordinary jobs and plain, devoid of any danger lives.

Levi is a simple office worker, who gets a job at Erwin’s firm after he helps him with solidifying a very important deal.

At his first day at job, Erwin gathers a committee meeting, so he can introduce Levi to his new coworkers.

It’s awkward as hell, and Levi feels like he’s a new boy at school. Considering that he’s almost pushing thirties, it’s a feeling he never thought he’d get to experience ever again.

He only half-listens to Erwin praise him and his past accomplishments , as his attention is more focused on his colleagues. They seem fine, but there is one person in particular who gets most his attention.

She wears a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and her hair is put up in some semblance of a pony-tail. She looks at him, not averting her eyes, even when he looks back. Levi glares at her, prompting her to turn away. It has a diametrically opposite effect, though. The bespectacled weirdo smiles and winks at him.

Levi rolls his eyes and scowls. What is she, a child?

***

She catches him just after the meeting is adjourned.

“Hello,” she draws, curving her lips into a wide grin. “Erwin has told me all about you. He’s very impressed,” she leans closer to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell me your secret.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Levi tries to push past her, but the four-eyed weirdo follows after him.

“He says you have incredible diplomatic skills.”

Levi barely resists the urge to scoff. Diplomatic skills his ass. The only reason why Erwin managed to sign off the deal he needed was because he took Levi with him and instructed him to make “the scariest face possible”.

“Fuck off, four-eyes,” Levi flips her off, but she is unrelenting.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that!” Hange pouts. “I just want to know what you did to impress Erwin like that! I’ve been his councilor for almost three years, and he had never praised my diplomacy. Oh, how about that!” Hange grabs his arm and links their hands together. “I’ll treat you to dinner this evening, and you tell me about your secret deal with Erwin?”

“No,” Levi replies, shaking her off. Then he glances at her and raises an eyebrow. “A dinner? Are you trying to hit on me, four-eyes?”

“Why,” she asks, her voice and deep and husky. Levi feels his cheeks turn to red. “Is it working?”

“No,” he answers, even though he actively tries to fight off a smile.

“Please,” Hange whines. “Just one dinner!” she pauses, lifting her face and putting on a thoughtful expression. “And maybe drinks afterwards?”

“Aren’t you asking for too much, four-eyes?”

“Nah,” she says with an infuriating grin. “I know you will agree,”

Levi almost growls in frustration. He just met this weirdo, but she already reads him like a goddamned book. He wants to refuse, just to spite her. Something tells me she won’t back off that easily, though.

He sighs, admitting his defeat. “You’re paying for the dinner and drinks. And,” he raises a finger. “You’re going home to change your clothes. This thing,” he points at her shirt, “reeks.”

“Deal!” she beams. “I’m Hange, by the way,” she extends a hand to him.

“Levi,” he takes her hand in his. Her palm is calloused, but warm. Levi doesn’t want to let go. He does let go, though. There is already an abnormal standing next to him. He doesn’t want to join her ranks.

“Ah, Levi!” Hange puts an arm around his shoulder. “I get a feeling we’re off to a great start here!”

He doesn’t answer, but doesn’t push her away either. Maybe, that’s already an answer.

And as Hange starts leading him through the office, he can’t help but agree with her last words.

Maybe, this time it will finally work out, he thinks. Maybe, in this life they’ll be allowed to live happily.

#HUGE historical innacuracies #just ummmm... ignore them lmao #anyway! hope you like it!!!!!!!!#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #levi ackerman #snk fanfiction #snk fandom

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malucy31 · 3 years

Text

Even Autumn knows Dawn

Every day Magnus wakes up with Alec in his life, he realizes how differently he deals with his depression and aches. It's a lot better now. This is one of these mornings.

Teen and Up audiences

1922 words

Read on ao3

“I should have let you kidnap me while there was still time,” Alec mumbles, half asleep. “We would still be in Havana, winning all the salsa dancing competitions by now.”

With a light chuckle, Magnus slips under the cover and dives into his embrace. It has been a very long day on top of an excruciating week. Being in the warmth of Alec’s arms is everything he has been looking forward to the entire day. It doesn’t disappoint. The feeling of homeis immediate, making all his sore, tired muscles soften like marshmallows.

“The offer still stands, you know.”

“Mmh… ‘ll ‘member” Alec punctuates his words with a squeeze around his waist and, in a few seconds, Magnus can tell he has fallen back asleep. His heart breaks a little, but it’s 4 a.m. after all.

“Good night, Alexander,” he murmurs with a kiss against his shoulder.

Their schedules haven’t aligned in weeks. Magnus longs for their cozy pillow talks and lazy cuddles, has hoped all day to be home early enough to at least go to bed at the same time as Alec, but it was too good to be true.

Tomorrow won’t be better… Another political meeting to try to prevent a conflict between two warlock communities, a powerful client who keeps asking for impossible things, and the certainty that when he wakes up, Alec will be already getting ready for his own day of misery.

When Magnus opens his eyes, he wishes he had been wrong. His body already feels Alec’s absence and has decided to take over his side of the bed. The Sun is barely rising, but a weight is already settling on his chest. Alec’s scent is faint on the pillow, trapped in the silk fibers like morning dew under clover leaves. It helps soothe the ache a little, the one that has been following him for centuries.

He inhales deeply, letting relief wash over him.

Who knew answers could be so soft, so sweet?

A lifetime ago, he thought the answer was in more.More music, more laughter, more lovers, constant roller coasters of emotions. Whatever it took to quiet the pain.

Always more.

Until numbness.

Until oblivion and nothingness.

Until all that pain inside, that longing, that beasthad no other solution than to lock itself away in a dark, remote corner of his soul.

A never-ending fight against himself.

He remembers going through the last century like the wrinkled last page of a forgotten love letter, blowing in the wind through deserted streets. No will to steer him. Only the certainty that he wouldn’t see the turn of the next century carved deep into his bones.

No one is supposed to live this long.

There’s a reason why warlocks have to eventually find a way to burn their heart to ashes, get rid of their weakness, their humanity. Centuries ago, someone tried to convince Magnus it was the only way.

But his heart has always been his pride, the only good thing about him. He will never feed it to bitterness, this brave, oh so human organ that seeks connection more than air. Despite what people think of him, he never stopped wearing it in the palm of his hand.

Even through his darkest times, he would still take it out of his own chest if someone needed it. He would let it see the beauty of the world, of love, of the comfort and sense of belonging one can only draw from helping others. It made the pain turn wistful instead of nagging.

He thought that was his only answer. Helping others to have reasons to stay.

Forever seeking noise to keep an open heart and take care of his children.

Forever needed.

Forever alone…

Then, he met Alexander. Someone who is the opposite of noise, the opposite of his usual noise anyway.

Magnus will never be able to express precisely what drew him to this quiet shadowhunter. The moment he took Alec’s hand, something in him stirred, sighed like it hadn’t done in forever. Today, he likes to think that his magic recognized him somehow, giving his heart more reasons to keep beating.

If all legends are true, maybe souls wander the world, wander centuries and bodies until they find a home.

Alexander’s love isn’t loud, it’s quiet in all the most perfect ways. Even when he lets it explode, there’s a harmony, a celestial beauty that always leaves Magnus speechless, in complete awe.

Alexander doesn’t bring numbness. He makes Magnus aware of everything, makes him want to be fully alive and not a half version of it.

At first, he thought Alec was the one who needed to let his emotions run free. He forgot that what we see in others is often a reflection of what we know about ourselves.

There was never a beast that needed to be locked away inside of him. Alec shows him that. Every night and every day, his wonderful angel takes that pain in his careful hands and cradles it until it feels loved again, soothed.

It’s barely dawn. The day ahead still looks dull and lonely, but the heaviness is gone.

He pictures Alec in their living room, grimacing as he finishes his coffee because it’s probably too strong, leaning on the back of their couch while reading a few reports that have been sent to him over the night.

Any minute now, he is going to come back to their bedroom. He will take extra precautions to not startle him awake, even though neither stays asleep after the other one gets up. They both know that.

He will whisper, “Magnus, Magnus, I’m leaving,” and Magnus will open one eye, then two, smiling back at him. His grinning nephilim will come closer to kiss him good-bye. His hands, then his forearms will sink into the mattress either side of Magnus’s head. They’ll start laughing because he can rarely stop himself from tickling Alec’s ribs, and he knows there’s no such thing as not hearing that laugh today.

This morning should feel heavy.

And yet, the autumn light filtering through the shutters seems to be a little more golden than usual, the birds nesting on the roof sing something his centuries-old heart has long memorized, and the air he breathes takes up more space in his lungs, making him feel weightless.

When the door opens to Alec’s smiling face, he forgets everything.

It’s a beautiful day.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

In a few strides, he is kneeling by his side, laying his hands on Magnus’s forearm. They are cold, he must have just washed them. Magnus almost says something about it because isn’t it endearing and miraculous? He isn’t sure he knows why something so simple makes him so happy, so emotional, but it does.

“No, my heart. I was already awake.”

A shudder of pleasure coils up around his spine when their lips wish each other a good morning in a tender kiss, when their breath mingles in laughter that fills Magnus with joy.

“So, I was thinking,” Alec pauses, happiness banishing the constant stress from his features, giving him back the youth the Clave stole from him. “Maybe we could plan a day off soon? Like very soon? I’ve heard of this ephemeral café that opened in Central Park, and I’d like to take you there, pretend to be mundanes… I like it when we do that, it’s fun.”

“An ephemeral café in Central Park, huh? How fancy of you.” Tilting Alec’s chin, Magnus kisses his cheek, feeling a slight tremor in his gesture.

For what must be the thousandth time since this wonderful being entered his life, Magnus marvels at all the ways Alec can affect him. His first reflex is to hide it, maybe tease Alec about how he could have found out about this café. Probably from Simon. It sounds like him and Magnus knows Alec is growing fonder of the vampire. It would be easy to avert Alec’s attention to this, make him roll his eyes in this fake-annoyed way he mastered a long time ago… But he can’t. For some reason, nothing comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to take Alec’s attention away from this moment, from him. Magnus wants to be right there with Alec. Genuine and whole, too much to handle, too many emotions, and too much love. Himself.

It doesn’t scare him. The realization brings tears to his eyes, and Alec kisses them away.

“I learned from the best.”

It takes a few seconds for Magnus to realize what Alec is replying to.

“So, what do you say?”

“I’d love to. I like having fun and being fancy with you.”

“Good,” Alec keeps gently cradling his face, wiping more invisible tears.

Magnus can tell he wants to ask about them, wants to ask about all that mess in his head, even though he is sure Alec wouldn’t call it that way. He wants to let him ask those questions, wants to see the day when he will be as open as possible with Alec. So instead of shaking his head, Magnus smiles.

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither… We’ll talk more about it tonight, okay? I should go.”

“I might be home late.”

“I’ll wait.”

Alec kisses him and Magnus knows he shouldn’t grip his shirt this tight, but he does because it makes Alec giggle against his mouth. There’s no better feeling than that.

A little while later, when Magnus is getting ready, he catches sight of a note on their kitchen counter next to a cup of coffee.

I think I got it right this time… Let me know tonight. Have a good day, I love you.

He doesn’t know what is faster, his large grin or the tranquil waves of endearment and love surging inside of him. With a snap of his fingers, he warms up the cup and takes a sip. It’s perfect.

Closing his eyes, he savors the last minutes of quiet of his day before too much noise, too many problems to solve, too many people to talk to, before the sweet relief of Alec’s arms later tonight. Before what makes every day worth living through.

Magnus wishes he could talk to all the former versions of himself.

The ones desperate for a human connection that would last more than a night, more than a month, more than a few years. More than a lifetime. The ones that didn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, the ones craving a quick and painless demise, the ones wondering where this would all lead him. The ones who only saw darkness ahead.

He wants to tell them that it gets better, that it’s all worth it, that today, all he sees is the love of his life, his answer to everything.

Even when he looks back, all he sees in his story are all the plot twists and unbearable cliffhangers that will lead him to his Alexander. All the reasons why their stories fit so well together. Every question finding an answer.

Maybe he had to go through all those centuries to get to this life, maybe he had to pay for his ancestors’ sins first. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe everything could have been different, and they would have still ended up here.

It doesn’t matter.

It used to matter, but it doesn’t anymore.

Because a new story started being written when their paths crossed. Their story.

It’s all that matters now.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec fanfiction #my writing #magnus pov #happy malec :)

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mercurydancer · 3 years

Text

It Happened Quiet Pt 27

Knowledge and Conflict

Maul visits the Archives. Things go.

Sideways

The Acquisitions Department abilities according to Legends are....Fun. Speaking of Legends though, the Sith that is written here is from the original Legends Sith language - but I decided I was going to pretend that I was a Linguist. This is probably a mistake but I'm actually genuinely proud of it.

And really, you can't have expected *everyone* to like Maul, could you have?

By the time they had finished with cake, the chairs and tables finally being placed outside of his cell to remove later Maul was beginning to get the same dull sense of Want that his Master had always induced in him when he forced him to Wait. There were differences of course. The fact that Maul knew that he would be brought to the archives, that they had promised and apparently Anakin and Ahsoka both were aware of the fact that they could not stay too long were all reminders of the fact that Maul would go.

It did not have the same vague knife that Maul had always felt he had been against. As though if he could not finally prove his worth to his Master then he would be forfeit.

This…had turned out to be true, but…but for whatever reason…Maul did not feel that same knife. As though they were…excited to take him. As though it was something they wanted him to see.

Maul wondered at the trust of it, for there was no doubt that there was nothing but trust in the gesture. They were taking them to their Archives, the heart of their knowledge – and Maul had heard legends of these Archives, of the knowledge they held. Maul wanted to know…they had been working on filling in the gaps of his education and he…appreciated it. But there was a part of him that desperately wanted to be able to look on his own terms.

…Maul did not know how to feel about the realization that it wasn’t because he thought they were lying. He just wanted to be able to let his own interest take him, to…

And then Maul realized that they hadn’t given him permission to actually read anything, merely…

Go…

Maul’s brows knit slowly…would they do that? Would he not be permitted to read anything? Brought to the place of his interest and then take it away? Maul was still meant to be their prisoner… Perhaps it would be a way of ensuring that he knew that they were still in charge. It would keep him…

What? Hungry? But Maul did not think that the Jedi wanted to…they fed him very regularly, Maul was never in want of food or something to drink, they had given him oil to help with the dryness in his horns, but…

But…

Maul had not realized he had been so deep in thought until Ahsoka was patting at his knee, drawing his attention down to her. “Goodbye, Maul!” she said, her arms held out, and Maul carefully picked her up, letting her hug him tightly. “I am glad you’re here,” she whispered in his ear.

Maul felt a bit like he’d been punched in the stomach, his head lowering, closing his eyes and letting himself breathe through the momentary shock of it. “Thank you…” Maul whispered back, and put her down, only to find that Anakin was right behind her, grinning up at him, his arms held out. Maul rolled his eyes, but kept the motion gentle, accepting Anakin up into his arms and holding him again, feeling the human boy press his face into his neck.

“I’m sorry it was too sweet, Maul,” Anakin said softly.

“It is fine,” Maul said, pulling back slightly to look at him in the eye. “I appreciated your presence.”

Anakin beamed at him, “I like yours, too.”

Maul huffed, and put him down, watching as the Guards gestured for the two younglings to follow them.

“We’re going to put the table and chairs away,” Eeth said, “and then we will be right back to take you to the Archives.”

Maul inclined his head and watched as they left…

All except for Mace.

Maul turned his attention to the other man, watching as he waited for the others to get out of earshot, and he felt his body begin to tense.

Mace smiled at him then, a slightcurve at the corner of his mouth, and yet nonetheless warm. “It’s alright,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you before we walk among the Jedi populace.”

Maul immediately straightened, meeting eyes with him.

“I recall…” Mace took a breath and breathed it out slow, “you mentioned that your Master instructed you at one point that you needed to make your kill as bloody as possible in order to send a message?”

“Yes,” Maul said, feeling his shoulders begin to lose their tension.

“I wanted to take the time to tell you that here…you don’t have to do anything of the sort.” Mace smiled at him and Maul…felt a tension he hadn’t even noticed in his hearts bleed away. “You don’t have to fight anyone, or hurt anyone, or – if you decide you do not want to – interact with anyone.” Mace made eye contact with him heavily, his gaze warm. “This is for you, and if you are not comfortable with it then you do not have to engage with it. There may be Jedi that allow fear they shouldn’t be holding to get in their own way. They might say things or try and pressure you, but if that happens…I want you to get my or the other Council Members’ attention and we’ll deal with it.”

Maul blinked and slowly tilted his chin up to look at Mace more directly, feeling delight stir his soul at the realization that he had just been told to snitch on whoever wasn’t behaving like a proper Jedi to The Jedi Council.

Mace seemed to catch his mood, that grin at the corner of his mouth spreading. “If you have any specific questions about what to expect you can ask me.”

Maul hesitated for a moment, and then “Will…will I be able to access any of the information kept in the Archives?”

Mace’s smile turned momentarily brittle, his eyebrows pinching slightly, and for a moment Maul felt his hearts thud in his chest and then softly, slowly, “Of course.” Mace tilted his head slightly, “we aren’t going to just bring you to the front doors of the Archives and turn you around.” Maul knew he had relaxed, could feel it and Mace’s brows rose, that smile dying. “Is that the sort of thing your Master would do to you? Take you to the edge of what you wanted and then strip it from you?”

“And one to crave it,” Maul breathed out, quoting the line that had been emblazoned in his mind for so long, knowing that that was what he was, what he was meant to do… But there had…always been an understanding that a Sith Apprentice was meant to kill their Master eventually. And Maul had not. He had just been left to Crave. Hunger was all he knew.

…All he had known.

Somehow…somehow that was changing. And sometimes Maul still had no idea how he felt about it.

Mace slowly nodded his head. “Right,” he huffed, “well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed…” there was that grin again and Maul found his own amusement starting to rise, “but we don’t tend to do that here. We’re going to let you inside of the Archives, you’ll get to interact with the datapads, the flimsis, all our listings, you can even talk to our Librarian Jocasta Nu – who I’m sure will be pleased to answer all of your questions and get you more information than you can possibly want.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Maul returned.

Mace smiled, “then she’ll give it her best shot. Just be polite, and don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

Maul inclined his head briefly.

Mace turned his attention outside of the ray shield for a moment, obviously questing his senses out, something Maul did as well, instinctively sniffing before he frowned – momentarily annoyed that the ozone and that faint smell of burning from the ray shield made it impossible to smell anything outside of it, and once Maul had acknowledged the smell he could not get it out of his mind. Maul stepped towards the flowers, taking the table they were on and moving it back as a way to quell any questions.

Maul’s first cell did not smell quite as strong.

Maul had known from the smell alone that he could get away with putting his hands through it, that it would not kill him. This cell…this cell would send his hearts into irregularity and crash him to the ground, killing him shortly should he not be pulled out of it by others. It was something he had expected when they moved him to a cell with another ray shield. While it did not seem like it at times, they were keeping him prisoner, and Maul was not allowed to leave freely. If they had allowed the ray shield to remain as it had been, Maul would have thought them fools. To know that they had upped the strength at least upped his estimation of them, and validated his previous attempt.

Maul may not be planning on escaping, but it was…good that they had recognized that he could.

The smell still wouldn’t get out of his nose.

Maul huffed, pausing for a moment before deliberately lowering himself over the flowers without trying to make it look like he was doing so, merely resting against the table.

Maul had grown up with ozone, with the weird metallic and yet sometimes…almost sweet smell in his nose. Maul knew the way it could turn cloying, the awful choking nature of it right before it hit…

“Maul?” Mace asked, and Maul blinked, realizing that he had lowered his face closer to the flowers than he had realized. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” Maul returned, straightening, momentarily cursing himself. “I…am not in pain.”

Mace tilted his head slightly, but eventually simply inclined his head, not…not questioning at all and that… For whatever reason, the lack of question made him want to answer, to…

“It…smells like ozone.”

Mace looked to him again before his gaze drifted to the ray shield.

Maul rolled his eyes. “My Master smelled like ozone.” Those eyes snapped back to him immediately, their gaze sharp, and Maul remembered…in a vague, hazy sort of way…that Mace had been one of the people to collect him after his Master…

“Maul,” Mace said, and his voice was doing that careful thing, that thing where he was not quite sure how he wanted to phrase the question but felt as though he needed to. “Do we need to move you to a different cell? Would the transparisteel be preferable?”

Maul shook his head, for that had been worse. Maul had not liked feeling like a fish in a bowl.

Mace’s eyebrow rose slowly, taking him in. “Maul,” he said, “if it bothers you…”

“It…” Maul huffed, rolling his eyes. “It does not…” he huffed again, irritation burning in him as he tried to think of how to explain… “bother is the wrong word. It merely…” Maul drifted, for a moment completely unsure how to describe, how to… “It is familiar.”

“Oh,” Mace said.

Oh, Maul thought with incredulity.

Like the singular word contained everything within it. Like it contained the awful knowledge of possible oncoming pain and yet… The smell had never left, it had been there when Maul was being punished…tortured, of course, but that was not all… It had been there as he sat on his Master’s knee. It had been there when he had been teaching him of the Sith and his place in the line of Bane. It had been there when his Master had trained him in his Saber forms, when he had congratulated him on a job well done…

It had been there when his Master had told him well done and then sent him to the ground… When he broke him, stripped everything from him, destroyed all that he knew and continually lied and lied and lied and lied…

But ultimately…the smell had simply been his Master.

A part of him had even thought of the smell as…comforting. A familiar metallic burn that clung to his nostrils and told him that Master was there. And he could either be praised by him or he could be hurt by him. And the hurt would be worth it.

Maul hated this part of himself.

Maul hated this part of himself that sometimes sought out the smell still, as a way to ground himself to where he was, to…

Maul closed his eyes, shaking his head as though to physically dispel the thoughts.

It was over.

Maul knew it was over.

Maul was no longer his Master’s… Maul had called it slaverythe last time that he had been talking to Mace in this way, no lessons to keep things…distant. A part of him had burned, the word vile in his mouth, and even now… Even now.

Maul could never escape it, could he?

The thought was sharp, rang against his mind, burned.

Maul couldn’t escape his Master any more than he could wash the marks from his skin or the familiarity of ozone and the desire to be near it, even as he hated it.

Maul hated.

Maul hurt.

“Maul,” the voice was sharp, and Maul looked over to Mace, who had taken a step towards him, looking like he was about to put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Maul shoved it all down, shoved it deep, and then finally, quietly, “yes.”

Mace stared at him for a little longer, his eyes darting towards the ray shield and then back. There was a pause, lingering between them.

“I hated Jogan fruit for the longest time,” Mace said quietly, and Maul hesitated, for a moment his brows lowering, before turning to look at him. Mace was smiling in the way that suggested he knew exactly what he was saying, the amusement in his face. “The smell of it especially. I couldn’t be near the smell for very long without feeling like I was going to vomit.”

“Why?”

“When I was very young…I went on one of my first missions with Master Myr, my Mirialan Master for a great deal of my life,” Mace was quiet for a moment, “it went very wrong.”

“How?” Maul asked softly, recognizing the gentle prompt for what it was, an invitation for Maul to ask for the continuation of the story or to ignore it. Maul didn’t know how to ignore it. Maul didn’t even know if he could.

“We were sent to help a small colony on the moon of a small planet off the mid-rim,” Mace said, and Maul wondered if it was deliberately vague in order to not tell him too much, or whether it was because Mace no longer remembered the specifics. Or perhaps…the moon no longer existed. “They were having trouble with their children going missing. Commonly enough and frightening enough that they called us, and we came. My Master and I spoke, and we decided that due to my age I would be placed among them, but my Master was never far. It should have been easy. It shouldn’t have been an issue…”

“That’s when things always go wrong,” Maul said roughly, and Mace nodded.

“And it did, but it was not in a way any of us expected.” Mace met his gaze evenly. “You see, it was not pirates of the usual sort, and it was not the sort of slavers that were initially expected…because of the man who was selling them.” Mace took a breath. “He was a teacher, one that had been in the community for years, that everyone trusted. It started out with tutoring that was organized, he’d call the parents and ask where their child was while simultaneously selling their children to the highest bidder. Eventually it turned to him making offers to children who were failing in order to keep them from failing. This was only discovered later… Either way, the agreement would stipulate that the child wouldn’t tell an adult or their friends, and because the child was failing they’d accept the offer because everyone trusted this man and they were told to do whatever they could, and most of them did not want to fail.”

Mace took a breath, sighing it out. “Ultimately the fact that I found him was perhaps…the will of the Force,” he smirked, and Maul had to try very hard not to roll his eyes. “I felt a strong sense of distress and I followed it. It led me to the man’s home where I very quickly realized that there was a little boy in there that should not have been, and I have to admit…I acted without thinking. I was young, untested, and when I rolled through that window ready to act I found myself overpowered, chained, and my lightsaber taken from me.”

Maul felt his chin rise slightly.

“The teacher sat there at a small desk, watching, and eating Jogan fruit the entire time the two of us were inspected by the Slavers that had come to take the boy, now with a bonus Padawan they had not expected. For the longest time I watched this man sit at the chair with the juice running down his chin…” Mace shook his head. “No one had suspected him. No one had suspected him, and he had utilized all of his power, his trust, and his influence…to turn children over to slavers. Children he had been given to teach, to help, to guide.” Mace grimaced. “My Master appeared before they could fully work us over, and she was able to break our chains and save us and brought the man to the proper authorities. I believe they utilize public executions on that planet.”

“It was perhaps too good for him,” Maul hummed softly.

Mace huffed, looking away. “Regardless, for the longest time I hated Jogan fruit, the smell of it, the taste, all of it. Do you know what changed that?”

Maul found his eyes narrowing before he shook his head.

“I had a friend that loved it.” Mace gave him the slightest of gentle smiles and Maul blinked, for a moment not understanding. “You’ll find different associations, different memories. Sometimes you might still think of your Master…but perhaps other times you’ll be remembering a storm and the people you were watching it with.”

Maul felt his head jerk up, staring at Mace full-on for just a moment, before letting his head drop to his chest again, thinking, thinking.

He could hear people approaching over the crackle of the ray shield and finally, softly, “would you like your first lesson on your Wodza?”

“What is that?” Mace asked, and the interest was immediate.

Maul hesitated, waited until he knew they were likely just out of earshot and softly, “Sometimes the hate is good.”

And then Plo was the first to round the corner. Maul turned to look at him, watching as the Kel Dor paused on the threshold, looking at the two of them with his hands behind his back, amusement practically palpable. Maul hesitated before looking over to where he kept the collar that would block his connection to the Force. Initially he had hidden it in drawers, or kept it out of sight, but ultimately he had agreed to put it on, and it was better that it was a chain that was his to put on, even if it was not his to take off.

Maul walked over to it, feeling the weight of their stares, and finally took it in his hands before clasping it over his neck. The feeling of the Force cutting off was momentarily a shock, something he had not felt in a while… And that was when he realized that something else had faded.

The bond connecting him to Eeth had gone and for a moment Maul felt a jolt of horror so strong…but the horror faded, realizing that of course it wouldn’t be there, Maul wasn’t connected to the Force and so not connected to Eeth… If…if it was gone, if it had snapped, he had to…he had to assume that Eeth would let him connect again? Maul swallowed, feeling the press of the collar against his throat and closed his eyes. Maul breathed through it, knowing that it would not be forever, and it would be taken off. Maul knew that it was not a chain he would have to wear for long and ultimately it would be worth it to wear it.

It had to be.

He adjusted the collar of his tunic, so it was hidden beneath it, as he didn’t truly want to have the other Jedi’s eyes upon it. He did not want the way they would look at him. It was already going to be hard enough being a Sith.

Maul took his robe and pulled it on out of the desire for more padding, more distraction, and finally turned to meet their gazes.

Maul was never able to truly read them even with the Force, so the lack of emotion that greeted him was expected, but it nonetheless left him feeling off-balance.

The Archives. He was going to the Archives; it would be alright…he would be alright.

“Maul,” Mace said then quietly, just out of earshot, and Maul blinked, looking up to him. “I wanted to reassure you,” he said, “that if something does happen, I do know why. I willadvocate for you. You do not have to be afraid, and while I do believe that nothing will, and I do believe you will be fine…I did want to let you know that it is alright. I know where your reflexes go and what you have been taught.”

And it was a bigger relief than Maul had thought it would be, feeling some of the weight on his shoulders slide off. Maul inclined his head in a bow of thanks and Mace smiled at him when he looked back up.

“Shall we?” Plo asked, and the ray shield dropped, the smell of ozone lingering, and Maul stepped through it with Mace Windu beside him, for a moment wondering whether the other man had shortened his stride to his deliberately, but decided that he would not question.

Plo moved before him as they walked, Maul’s attention sliding towards Eeth as he stepped up also beside him, and then finally, Yoda was waiting at the end of the hall next to a tall Togrutan woman, who was speaking to him. Her attention turned as they approached, and she inclined her head to them, and her gaze when it lingered on him was…curious, but not hostile as she took him in for a moment, and then she smiled.

“I suppose this is Darth Maul,” she said, and her voice was warm and gentle, “my name is Shaak Ti. I must say, you look a great deal better than your picture.” Maul blinked, for a moment not entirely certain what she was saying, and then her smile widened, showing the sharp teeth he knew were there. “We have a mutual friend. She was very excited to show me what she had drawn.”

And suddenly he remembered The Picture.

And immediately wondered if lying down and dying was an appropriate reaction. Ahsoka had asked him for it after she had realized that Maul wouldn’t be able to leave his prison for a while, saying that she wanted to keep it, and she had even traded him the picture that Maul had drawn of her.

Maul had not…for some reason he had not suspected that she would have shown it to people.

Maul was going to die.

“She did say that you said it had a distinct resemblance. The horns and the earring I believe were particularly noticed, which you do have,” Shaak smiled at him. Maul was going to die. He was going to die. Right here. Right now.

Maul had stared death in the face too often to let it truly eat him.

He took a breath.

“Your observation skills, Jedi, are of course unmatched.”

Shaak’s brows shot up before she tilted her head back and laughed, delight in the sound, Maul aware that the others had started laughing as well, quiet, and warm, and Maul…did not quite understand.

He was still going to die.

“Oh, I suppose I deserved that,” she said, wiping her eyes, “I do apologize, Darth Maul, and I wish to assure you that the picture has not in fact been circling everywhere.” Shaak smiled at him. “Merely among her close friends and people she believes she can trust.”

Maul…wanted to die a bit less.

“I don’t know that I would be…soothedby her taste,” Maul said finally.

“Oh no?” Shaak asked and her head tilted slightly, that smile still there. “I believe that she considers you among that number.”

“My point,” Maul stated.

Shaak laughed again, bright, and then smiled, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him closely. “Perhaps,” she said softly. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Darth Maul, but I must be going.”

“The pleasure is all yours, I’m sure.”

Shaak’s eyes shot wide open, and she laughed again and grinned at him, before giving them a brief bow and finally walked away. Maul held himself very still.

“Maul,” Plo said, and Maul found his attention briefly darting to the man, who was smiling at him, the look warm. “Very well done.”

Maul blinked. He blinked again. “What?”

“You handled that remarkably well,” Plo smiled.

“I…” he opened his mouth, closed it again and finally frowned. “I do not understand. Was it a test?”

“A test it was not,” Yoda said shaking his head, “something to discuss with me she had. A matter of poor or good timing it was. Well, you still did.”

Maul frowned, taking that in. “I see,” he said finally. “But why was it well done?”

“Oh, in several categories,” Tiq said, and Maul blinked, not having noticed the Rodian approaching. “First, you expressed yourself without resorting to violence, remained cordial even when expressing your displeasure, and ultimately you have handled your first experience with a Jedi that you have never met very well. How do you feel?”

Maul hesitated, taking all of that in. Maul huffed, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the wheel that Tiq had given him and looking at it for a moment, frowning in thought.

“Mortified.”

There was a loud series of snorts or other inelegant noises at the reply. “I suppose that’s fair,” Tiq smiled, “but it’s also unnecessary.

“You know what’s going to be what people remember about that picture, provided they know about it?” Eeth asked. “And even then, the ones that don’t, you know what they’re going to hear of?”

“What?”

“That conversation,” Mace said then, dipping his head towards where Shaak had left.

“There are lots of us here, true, but the Temple is smaller than you’d think, and there is talk,” Plo smiled. “So, what they’re likely going to hear of is you were…oh…”

“Cheeky,” Yoda said with a grin and Maul blinked.

“I…what?”

“Mischievous, gently sarcastic, perhaps…?” Eeth frowned, looking to the others for confirmation and receiving nods.

Maul frowned. “And this is…good?”

“It is better than a lot of what they know about the Sith.”

“Ah. Boogieman without teeth.” Maul bared his briefly, and then huffed.

“No,” Plo hummed… “There’s an idea of teeth, but they weren’t ever bared, and that’s as important as having them to begin with.”

Maul took that in for a moment head tilting thoughtfully and then finally gave a brief nod. That was acceptable. And now that he knew he still found himself… He…didn’t know how to ask them to keep moving…

“Well,” Tiq said softly, “any further questions?”

“No.”

“Onward we go then,” Tiq winked at him, and Maul felt that brief burst of relief.

They walked through the Temple and Maul found his gaze once again drifting. For the first time he was almost thankful of the escort, keeping a buffer between him and the rest of the populace.

There were so many of them.

Maul had known that and had seen that, usually from the outside, watching them coming and going…but this… This was so many of them and they were all around him and Maul felt a bit as though his skin was going to get up and crawl away from all of the eyes that landed on him.

This was the fourth time that he had been let out among the general populace, but this was perhaps the first that he had been meant to stay around them. The testing chambers and the training room had both been utilized primarily by the Council or by the one that needed testing, there was the possibility of other Council Members entering, but Maul had met most of them by that point. Here…there were so many, and the Archives had the potential to hold more.

But Maul still wanted to go, he wanted to see…

Maul kept his head down and his gaze mostly straight-ahead. It would be fine. Mace had already said he didn’t have to engage if he didn’t want to, and frankly Maul had no desire to.

Though he did want to perhaps talk to their Librarian. He wondered how their organization was set up, what information they would hold. A small part of him was curious about what they thought of him as Sith, but the rest was more curious about how the Jedi wrote about themselves, or even if they did. Maul knew what he had been taught, of what he had not yet spoken, but he was…curious. Maul wondered whether they would be keeping a close eye on what he asked to read. Either way, Maul would at the least look.

And then they stood before it and Maul was momentarily stunned. As well as just slightly wary…

Sith stored their information in hard-to-reach places, hid them behind traps, behind death…though so much had been done to destroy what they had created, be it by the Sith themselves…or the Jedi… To have it all in the open like this…but the thoughts were soon drowned out as they walked forward into the archives, taking in row upon row upon row of shining blue and the long aisles that connect everything. The tall and proud windows at the back let light pour in and Maul was suddenly faced with a very deep desire to just stop and stare.

The only thing that dampened his enthusiasm were the number of Jedi he could see among the stacks…but this was their Library, it was their domain, and Maul had expected that.

Maul would just have to do his best to treat them with…how was that put…cordial, without resorting to violence, and perhaps, if necessary, some light sarcasm.

Maul could do that.

Maul looked to the members of the Council and Tiq that surrounded him, wondering if they were meant to escort him everywhere…

“Come,” Mace said softly, “we’ll introduce you to Jocasta and you can look around where she gives you permission.”

“Thank you,” Maul said.

They continued their initial escort of him, but the deeper they went the more of them broke off until he was following Plo, the others stationed at various points around the archives, all watching him but without making him such an immediate target of interest. Maul’s skin was no longer quite as ready to crawl off. He was still a different figure because he was new, but now he supposed he might look more like a guest. There was also the fact that his signature in the Force was bound.

Maul no longer felt like himself to the others.

Plo led him back towards an elderly human woman, hair up and bound tightly behind her head in a bun, her blue eyes sharp as they turned to look at Plo and then over to him. Maul was expecting for the way those eyes widened in surprise, but he was not expecting for the way they crinkled into something of a smile, her mouth curving up into the same expression.

The woman stepped towards them, folding her hands in her wide bell sleeves, taking them in.

“Madame Jocasta,” Plo said, and his voice was warm.

“Master Plo,” she returned with equal warmth, before turning to look at Maul. Maul who after a moment of hesitation pulled his hood up and over his horns, folding it back around his shoulders.

“This is Darth Maul,” Plo introduced with a smile and Maul was still unused to people smiling when they talked of him. “He is the one we told you about.”

“Madame,” Maul said, giving a slow incline of his head.

“Darth Maul,” Jocasta said, and her voice was also warm. “It is a pleasure. I have heard that you have been interested in our library here.”

“Yes,” Maul said, looking up just enough to meet her eyes. “I have been.”

“That’s very good,” she smiled, “I always appreciate the ones that are after knowledge. Is there a way I can assist you?”

Maul hesitated, trying to find a way to formulate his request. He had to assume that Jedi kept any writings of themselves in Holocrons, but he couldn’t be certain. Maul wondered if he’d be given access to Jedi Holocrons or if he could even open them. He had to assume that they’d be strictly for Light users and Maul…could not. Or at least…he had not tried. But frankly Maul wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

That moment of connection to the infinite and yet nothing at the same time made him pause.

Ultimately though, “Do all Jedi place records of themselves within Holocrons?” he asked.

“Well,” Jocasta said with a smile, “while there are a lot of them that do, some of them have utilized datapads and flimsi. Are you interested in getting an understanding of what the Jedi are like through their own interpretation?”

“If I can,” Maul said after a pause, “I know what my Master has said, and I know what I have been taught, but I am…curious.” He thought that was safe enough, and it was not a big request. Maul was…a bit surprised when he noticed the way Plo was straightening, the way Jocasta had smiled with a look that seemed almost…pleased? Why?

“It is good to get other opinions on something,” Jocasta said in a way that felt as though it was circling something else, “particularly when the things we are taught might have a certain…ah…bias.”

Maul found his brows pulling together, frowning slightly, “Yes…” he agreed softly, “that is what cross-referencing is for, is it not?” Maul was a bit surprised when Jocasta’s brows lifted.

“Cross-referencing,” she repeated softly.

“Yes,” Maul frowned, “that’s…when you check one data point against another…yes? That’s not…there’s not another word…?”

“No, no there is not, my apologies,” Jocasta said, and she had begun to smile, before looking to Plo. “Well,” she said with a sniff, “at least some people seem to understand the importance of cross-referencing. It would be delightful if we could get others to do the same.”

Maul blinked. “Why…wouldn’t people…?”

“I ask myself the same question every day,” Jocasta said with a certain heaviness, sighing. “But it is delightful that at least someone seems to understand the importance. Tell me, if you please, how many languages are you fluent in?”

“Seventeen,” Maul answered easily, “I read more than I speak, and I am fluent in…” he trailed off, recognizing the shock that they were gracing him with.

“Do you want a job?” Jocasta asked and Maul blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get a good research assistant?” Jocasta asked, turning to Plo, who Maul realized had started to laugh. He also had an idea that he was not precisely being ignored as her body language still somehow included him, spreading her hand out to him. “Seventeen written languages and understands the importance of cross-referencing? Master Plo, he is wasted in our cells. I would take him as a research assistant in a heartbeat. Provided of course you would not mind working here, dear?”

Maul blinked, staring at her, staring at Plo, suddenly unsure of what had happened and how. And also, not sure about the dear. What was with these Jedi and their endearments?

…Were they expecting an answer?

“I…I…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure how to respond, “do…not know? I had thought…I had thought I was meant…to be in the cells, I am not…”

Jocasta gave a wave of her hand something almost dismissive, but the smile she gave him belied that and was somehow…warm, and then she turned back to Plo, “There’s no reason he can’t be brought here is there? You cannot expect for him to be able to thrive in a single environment can you? And being able to do outside research on his own is imperative to letting him know that what you speak is truth. He needs to get out more and the Archives provides both the space and the opportunity for outside learning. Let me have him.”

Maul blinked, looking to Plo. Havehim? What did that mean? He didn’t realize that he was starting to get a bit anxious until he noticed that Eeth was approaching. Maul felt a brief rush of calm brush against him and realized that the Zabrak was trying to sooth him without being overt about it. Maul probably wouldn’t have minded it as much, but he knew he couldn’t respond to it, his innate abilities kept from him.

Maul hated it.

“What’s happening?” Eeth asked, “is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, dear,” Jocasta said, and Maul looked to Eeth with wide eyes, noticing that he didn’t seem to flinch over the ‘dear’ comment either. “I was merely telling Plo that I want Darth Maul as a research assistant.”

Eeth beamed, “Truly?”

“Seventeen written languages and the ability to cross-reference? Sith or no Sith, I couldn’t care less…” she paused, and her gaze was suddenly sharp as it landed on him. “Do you read Sith?”

“Chwayatut nu saarai,” Maul answered easily and watched all of them straighten, before Jocasta’s eyes widened.

“I rule truth?” she translated softly under her breath. “How long have you been speaking the Sith tongue?”

“Woyunoksatul nu saarai-kaar,” Maul answered.

“Woyunoksatul…” Jocasta repeated softly, “I do not know what this means, would you translate for me?”

“It is a verbalization of another word,” Maul answered, “woyunoks is Little One, small child. I have been speaking and reading the language since I was very small.”

“Which makes you a keeper of truth,” Jocasta said softly before smiling. “I would have never known. Is all language referred to as truth or merely the Sith? What if one is mute and Sith, can they speak truth as well?”

“Sith,” Maul answered with a slight shrug. “And if they are mute they can still sign, and therefore they also speak truth. But other languages are not tash.”

“Lies,” Jocasta said softly. “Fascinating…”

Maul said nothing.

“Do you have qualms with him being allowed to help me?” Jocasta asked, looking to the members of the Council, and Maul could hear others approaching, recognizing that they had decided to come together as they discussed this.

Tiq immediately turned to the members of the Council as he heard that, his gaze almost…pointed.

“Does he wish to?” Mace asked and turned to him and Maul…was confused.

“Why…would you have me?” Maul asked finally.

“Oh! Oh goodness me, my apologies dear,” Jocasta said immediately, “I meant that I would like you to work for me. It is not ownership. And because you are not a Jedi, I believe I wouldn’t be out of line in paying you.”

Maul’s brows shot way up. “Payingme?”

“Of course,” Jocasta said. “It is a job after all.”

Maul was… Maul…took a step back, feeling very small in a way that he never did, and very crowded, with too many eyes on him and…

“Maul with me, please,” Tiq said suddenly, and his voice was not sharp, but it was firm, and Maul clung to the sound immediately, following after him into a quiet corner. Tiq carefully maneuvered him without ever touching him, so he was standing with his back to the corner, stepping back a few paces and turning his attention elsewhere. Maul pulled his hood over his head lower and found himself impossibly and starkly grateful for the Rodian in a way he didn’t understand.

Maul stood there for a bit, trying to gather everything up.

“I am sorry,” Maul finally said softly.

“Don’t be,” Tiq returned with a smile, and he still wasn’t looking directly at him. “You haven’t been around a lot of people like that in a while and it’s a lot you weren’t expecting.”

Maul huffed, and the annoyance that filled him was welcome. “I just wanted to look at what the Jedi said about themselves,” he said. “Datapads or whatever, I’m aware I likely can’t look at Holocrons.”

Tiq made a soft sound turning to look at him, “Is that what she meant by cross-referencing?”

“I just wanted to compare it with what I knew,” Maul frowned. “I know…a lot of it must be wrong, but I had wondered…”

Tiq laughed. “Seventeen languages and cross-referencing, goodness. How many do you speak?”

“Fifteen,” Maul answered, “I can’t make the sounds required for two of them, but I understand it well enough. Why would it matter how many I know when there are translator droids, or even protocol ones?”

“Well, that explains why she was so excited,” Tiq laughed. “Translator droids are wonderful, but they often have a…ah, literalness to them that belies the actual content. If you can get a sentient to translate then you get a certain nuance and rhythm to the words that you can’t get from a droid. This is especially important in poetry, and we have a lot of that.”

“Oh,” Maul said, blinking. “She’d payme?”

“Of course,” Tiq said, “as she stated you are not a Jedi and thus would be employed by the Jedi. We do not take slaves.”

Maul…said nothing, thinking. “Even if I am currently imprisoned?”

“Oh, prison labor, delightful~!”

Maul stared at him.

Tiq laughed. As Maul continued to stare at him Tiq laughed harder, finally bending over, and putting his hands to his knees, his head lowered and wheezing. “Oh, oh, I’m sorry, that…” he wiped his eyes. “We don’t do prison labor either. Have you ever been paid for work before?”

“I…acted as a bounty hunter for a while,” Maul said finally. “I do not have much, but I do have some.”

“It is an honest enough trade I suppose,” Tiq hummed. “Well,” he frowned, straightening. “It is up to you. And you can very easily tell her no, you are not interested, or you can think about it.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Well, that you might have to ask Jocasta about,” Tiq said, “but I can also tell her to stop putting pressure on you. Was that the first thing she asked you?”

“…Almost…” Maul said softly.

“Goodness no wonder you were overwhelmed,” Tiq sighed. “You don’t have to do it if you do not want to. And if you did decide to do it there would be guards posted. You are still imprisoned.”

“I still am not sure if you know what the word means,” Maul grumbled and Tiq laughed aloud.

“I will admit…there are…oh, Maul, there are several reasons for why your sentence is not perhaps what you would expect. But the most important thing is this is not a punishment. We are not trying to cause you hurt or, really, much stress, though we do make mistakes in this front. I would assume that a lot of your experience with being imprisoned has been with the idea of punishment involved,” Tiq said, and his gaze was…gentle.

“If it…if it is not punishmentthen what is it?”

“Reformation,” Tiq said. “It is…giving you an opportunity to learn how to grow and be better, to change. You cannot do that if you are being forced to fight for your very survival, or confined to a singular room, or not having your very basic needs met. You have to know that there is hope for something better at the end.”

Maul paused for a long moment, taking that in. “Does that change have to lead to being a Jedi?”

“No,” Tiq said, and his voice was firmer than Maul had expected. “All it does…all I would hope that it does, and from what I understand all that we hope it does, is teach you how to do something other than hurt.”

Maul remembered his hands on a rebreather, and a claw at the side of a neck, his hands that did not know how to be anything but violent… Maul remembered asking…

Maul balled his hands into fists, remembering the feeling of holding another to him in a way that did not…it did not hurt, of drawing pictures and being told that there was an entire crèche that was interested in meeting him whenever Maul felt able, of being considered for a research assistant. Maul did not quite know what that entailed, but he did know that he was…he was not wanted for his ability to bring death. Maul was wanted for his ability to understand different languages, for his ability to research.

Maul did not know how to feel when he realized it was the first time anyone had ever wanted him for his mind and not just what his body could do. His Master had always expected him to figure it out, but…but the figuring was not the goal, the death he could bring was, the pain was the goal.

Maul stared at Tiq for a moment, unsure what he was feeling, what he wanted to say. And then finally, softly, “Thank you.”

Tiq smiled at him, “my pleasure. We may not always get it right, Maul. This is…well it’s very new for me I some ways that I did not expect, and similarly very new for the rest of the Council, but I am going to do my best, and I know that they are trying as well.”

Maul nodded slowly before taking a breath. “I…want some time to think about it…and to know more about what she wants from me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll tell her,” Tiq’s smile widened. “And…Maul,” Tiq said softly, “you’re already making amazing progress, I am proud of you.”

Maul blinked, meeting Tiq’s eyes, seeing the warmth there, and finally looked away again, but the warmth for whatever reason seemed to have settled somewhere inside of his chest.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

Maul followed Tiq as they finally left the corner, walking back towards where Jocasta was standing, her gaze alighting on them immediately. Maul was not expecting the way her forehead creased, or the way her mouth seemed to pull into a frown, but it did…it did not seem like an angry expression. She approached them, Tiq standing a little behind and to the right of him, so he was still in his peripheral vision, his hands clasped before him.

“Lord Maul, I would like to apologize,” she said before he could open his mouth. “I had not considered how much pressure I was putting on you, or how little chance I had given you to think about it. I…” she laughed, rueful, “I seem to have gotten a bit excited at the opportunity and did not think about you. It was a failing on my part and I am sorry.”

“That is…that is alright,” Maul said finally, straightening and pulling his hood back again. “Thank you for your apology.”

“Thank you for your forgiveness,” Jocasta said.

“I…would like to think about it more,” Maul said, “and I would like an understanding of what you would like me to do and…what you would pay me, I think.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jocasta smiled, “I will get you a breakdown of what the job entails that will also include a pay range.”

Maul hesitated… “I…” he blinked. “I just…how are you going to pay me?”

“I…” Jocasta paused, staring at him. “Do you have a citizenship?”

Maul stared at her.

Jocasta stared at him.

Jocasta gave a soft sound, clearly thinking, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Well,” she said. “Walk with me, dear?” she requested, gesturing, and standing to the side slightly, and Maul hesitated before finally walking with her as she walked them deeper into the library. Maul was aware that Tiq was not anywhere near them, and then he was aware that…no one was near them.

What?

“Now,” she said, and her voice was not loud, but it was not quiet either, a very careful modulation that made Maul pay attention. He had had briefings like this before, and he found himself moving to keep a step behind her, but a slight gesture brought him up beside her once again. Jedi were strange. “A citizenship is of course, important…and it should be something we get you soon. But, I must say that for now…I do not see a need.” Maul blinked. “Something particularly interesting about our library is it is one of the most widely used – even by those that are not Jedi. We have the most extensive records in the Galaxy.” She paused; her eyes sharp as she looked at him. “This does mean that we are afforded…oh, a great deal of grants. So long as we mark where those grants go, we are able to do what we want with them.” Her smile was sharp when she turned it to him. “I even have a space for a consultant. I do not even have to name them, merely suggest that they…oh…exist. Would you say that you exist, Lord Maul?”

Maul stared at this Jedi who was flagrantly suggesting that they break the law and found his mind reeling. “If I am not dreaming…” he finally agreed softly.

Jocasta laughed, warm and…fond? “Oh, no, this is not a dream, dear,” she said, “but it is a way to avoid getting you a criminal record.” She raised a brow and Maul opened his mouth, closed it, and then softly, quietly…

“Oh.”

“Think about it, dear, I would still be able to pay you,” she gave him a wink. “The datapads written by the Jedi are on the second floor, far left towards the back.”

Maul took that in for a moment, before giving a solid nod, and turning to look at the area indicated. He frowned for a moment, took in the column with the statue before it and looked up to the decorative capital that had distinct grooves that would be perfect for fingers and toes, and up to the banister.

That would work.

Maul tilted his head slightly, judging the distance, and then took a running start. He leapt, catching onto the pillar towards the middle, shimmying up it using his knees and his hands, not touching the pillar with his boots in order to avoid marking it, and then giving another leap up towards the first groove of the capital, it was an angle slide, but that was alright, and his gloved fingers gripped it easily, reaching up to the one above it he pulled himself up using his arms and grabbed hold of the next indentation, shimmying along to the front of the pillar so he was right below the banister and pulling himself arm over arm until his fingers were hooked where the floor would be, shimmying along that until he was no longer hampered by the capital. He swung his legs forward, his stomach just clearing the bottom of the decorative lip of the ground and swung himself backwards, using the muscles in his stomach as well as his momentum to swing himself up into a handstand where he hooked his legs over the banister easily, and sat up on top of it, sliding off onto the ground.

It was then he heard something that sounded a bit like a dying tooka, and looked over the edge of the banister to see Tiq standing by Jocasta, bent over double and…laughing? Jocasta was staring up at him with the widest eyes he had ever seen, her mouth open, and his gaze picked out the rest of the Council that had come with him in states of either open awe or something like hysterics.

The hysterics were winning.

Yoda had slid to the ground leaned against another pillar, his head tilted back, absolutely cackling, his hands over his face. Eeth had leaned against Mace and looked a bit like he was sobbing into his shoulder, Mace staring up at him with a slow grin that seemed to get wider the longer Maul stared at him, and Plo had covered his face with his hands and was also laughing.

“Forget the job, I should have given you a map!” Jocasta cried out.

“For…forget the job?” Maul repeated.

“No, don’t forget the job,” she waved a hand and walked over towards… Oh. That was an elevator.

Oops.

“We have two of these at either end,” she said, waving towards it. “And there is also a stairwell located in the middle at either side. Please refrain from climbing the columns in the future.”

“…Yes, of course, my apologies.”

Tiq gave a brief sob of laughter, and Maul shrank out of sight. He was expecting for when the Masters made their way up towards him, though still not crowding, all of them heading into different parts of the stacks to give him space.

All of them utilizing the…proper method to get to the second level.

Maul followed Jocasta’s instructions, but also looking for any appropriate nooks or places for reading. He found a few that looked like they would be good, and luckily seemed to not have any Jedi occupying them. But…there were a few Jedi that were in the stacks he had not seen. Maul was not expecting for the way they looked at him when he walked by them, something like amusement, something…almost warm in their expressions. The realization that they had probably seen him climb up the banister, or at least heard the reactions to it was high and he supposed…

Maul supposed that that was okay.

If it meant they did not attempt to bother him then it was perfect.

Maul found the section he was looking at, as well as…

Maul frowned thoughtfully, taking in the large Besalisk that occupied the section that he wanted to be in, but… Maul was meant to be getting used to Jedi, he supposed, at least he had to be in proximity. Maul closed his eyes for a moment, bracing himself mentally and then approached, aiming towards the end opposite the Besalisk who looked over from reaching for the highest shelf. Maul watched the reach with an idle sort of irritation. If he had the Force it wouldn’t be a problem, but as it was he didn’t think Jocasta would appreciate him climbing up the shelves. Perhaps he would have to ask if he wanted something higher…

Shrugging the thought off, Maul went up to the shelves, taking in the ones closest to his eye-level. The titles were innocuous, some of them seemed to be of the autobiographical sort, named after the Master or Knight the datapad was written for, but others were such things as Reflections of a Mastership or The Jedi Path. He narrowed his eyes at that one, but eventually let his gaze keep skimming.

Maul wanted a more comprehensive idea of what they had before he began pulling datapads off the shelves… And then he realized that there were heavy-set footsteps moving towards him.

Maul felt the presence looming next to him with idle annoyance, closing his eyes for a moment and then stepping back slightly in order to put the Besalisk better into his peripheral vision and tilt his head back to take in the higher shelves.

The Besalisk was looking down their nose at him. Maul took a quick mental stock of the face he was seeing, the black goatee trimmed into a v-shape that came from his bottom lip, the wattle inflated just the slightest bit in irritation, yellow eyes staring at him with…

Oh, yes…

Maul was familiar with disdain.

Maul gave a mental sigh, and finally pointed up roughly level with where the Besalisk’s head was at a datapad whose contents he didn’t know and whose name he couldn’t read. “Would you mind handing that datapad to me, please?”

The wattle quivered.

Maul sighed. “I suppose not then,” he mumbled under his breath. He turned his attention more directly towards him, frowning, but still not turning directly to face him. “May I help you?”

Those yellow eyes bored into him, and Maul allowed a brow to rise, waiting for a moment, before…

“Oh…” Maul mumbled, before he sighed and tilted his head up to face the Besalisk better, pulling his gloves off in order to reveal the red-and-black of his hands, much easier to see than the black-on-black. He held them up and speaking as clearly as he could, signing along with it, “My apologies, do you sign? I did not mean to be rude.” Though truly if the other signed they could have at least let him know and not staredat him.

Maul was anticipating the way a brow shot up, his expression tightening in a mixture of confusion and then finally…

“I am surprised,” the Besalisk finally said, “that you would be…civilized enough to know how to sign.”

Maul felt his hands ball into fists, his expression falling perfectly flat as he tilted his head back, baring his throat in a mixture of taunt and insult. “Well, I’m rather surprised that you know how to talk, so I would suppose we are both learning new things.” Maul watched as the Besalisk’s mouth pulled into a sneer, revealing those sharp teeth and Maul kept his own carefully contained behind his lips, raising a brow pointedly. “Do you have a name?” Maul asked.

“Master Krell,” he stated, and Maul gave a soft hum.

“Master Krell, then,” Maul repeated. “You may call me Lord.” Krell’s lip curled back, and Maul raised a brow.

“I do not know that I will,” Krell said. “I do not know that you should be afforded the respect of the title. Given that you are a…ah, failed Apprentice, was it?”

And Maul felt that brief desire to flash his fangs, to break the man’s shin and force him to his level, to stop his looming… But Maul was meant to be demonstrating his ability to behave. He was meant to be demonstrating his ability to be among the Jedi populace, even, apparently, the absolute fucking idiots that thought themselves above him.

Maul let the rage go and finally smiled, still completely toothless. “You will find that I am a Sith Lord, Master Krell. It is a title I earned through much blood and pain, and I would appreciate its use.”

“Why should you be awarded for the blood and pain of others.”

“Oh,” Maul hummed, “please let us not get into this hypocrisy,” he sighed.

“Hypocrisy?” Krell hissed softly. “I do not see any hypocrisy when comparing a Jedi that is a keeper of the peace and a Sith who would destroy it.”

“Peace?” Maul repeated. “Peace does not exist, Master Krell, not on its own. Peace is something that can only be won by force, and if I am not mistaken…those sabers on your belt are not there just for show. What do you do but fight for the peace of someone else? Whose peace are you fighting for?” Maul sighed. “An argument can of course be made for fighting against whatever aggressor you come across, for protecting someone and not working to hurt them. But please do not stand there and act as though you have not caused both blood and pain, it does you a disservice.”

Not least by making him look like an idiot, but Maul was not going to bother mentioning that.

Krell’s lips pressed into a thin line before he finally smirked, letting his mouth pull back into something of a smile. “Well,” he said finally, “that was surprisingly well articulated…for a Sith.”

The way Krell said ‘Sith’ reminded Maul of all of the times that someone had looked at him and said ‘Nightbrother,’ of the references to the lack of intelligence, to…otherthings. Maul merely hummed.

“Well,” he said finally, “I cannot say that I speak for all Sith, in a similar way that you could not be said to speak for all of the Jedi…because if you did I do not believe we would be having this conversation.” Maul allowed the very first flash of bared teeth, the slightest curl of a snarl before allowing his expression to return to neutral. “But I would like to believe that we…ah…prize intelligence and articulation, at least to a certain extent…”

“I do not know that I would have guessed.”

Maul laughed. “Funny,” he said, “because you’re rather exactly like I thought the Jedi would be.”

“And I suppose coming from a Sith I should think it an insult?”

“Given what you think of the Sith, I should think it scathing.”

Krell laughed, and Maul had a moment where he thought he might have actually managed to break whatever this was, had managed to make him understand how utterly ridiculous it was… Because it was, this was ridiculous, and Maul had run out of patience for it, recognizing that he was getting impatient, and irritation was rising hot in the back of his skull. He hadn’t even looked at the stupid datapads, where the hell was everyone? Why hadn’t they said anything yet?

“Perhaps it’s because you’re collared like a pet,” Krell said softly, and Maul felt that irritation catch fire into a burning flare of anger and rage and just that slightest amount of hurt, realizing that from his position he could see the collar hidden by his shirt, “but I don’t think that I’ve taken a word you’ve said seriously.”

“You hypocritical, judgmental, and self-inflated Jedi,” Maul hissed, “you think you can stand there as a bastion of honor and Light when your Order steals children from their parents and your orders are given by a Republic that slips further and further every day into a rot you cannot hope to climb out of? You think you can go unscathed when you answer their orders at every turn and the Mandalorians cannot think of the Republic without your name on their lips? You think that they are the only ones?”

“We do not kidnap children, Sith, they are given to us to train…”

“To a department with the legal authority to take away their children? You think I don’t know what the Acquisition department is?”

“They are given,” Krell repeated, “they are repeatedly told that they are not required to give them to us, that we do not wish to steal them from their arms…”

“I am pleased that your moral platitudes supplant your legal authority to take their children,” Maul said, “and I am sure they are as well.”

“And what would a Sith know about morals and legal activities? From what I understand you stand before me a murderer, whose blood-soaked hands are the least of your crimes.”

And Maul, who had had quite enough, had only two words to give him from the depths of his hearts and the deepest depths of his soul. Maul tilted his chin further back, bared his teeth and spat two words in Sith. Those yellow eyes burned, lips peeling back in a snarl and Maul moved into position to fight or to flee, and then suddenly.

“Wait!”

And the Council was approaching, the ones…who were looking at Krell, but were looking at him, and…

And Maul was suddenly aware of what he had been saying.

Maul was suddenly aware of what he had accused them of.

And the fear that was bubbling up within him was colder than ice and sharper than any vibroblade.

What had he done?

#darth maul #maul #mace windu #pong krell #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #jocasta nu #yoda #healer tiq #twin sons #goodness i've missed a good cliffhanger #how you all doing are you good?#show of hands who wants to punch me?#honestly though #the legends acquisition department does give the Jedi legal right to take children from parents #like i do not believe they did #to make this clear #i do think that there was permission granted in these cases #we see that in the clone wars #but that doesn't mean that it wasn't there #and goodness is that a fun predicament #you can't tell me that the idea of them going #wait you literally thought we had kidnapped anakin skywalker and ahsoka tano #and you were okay with that #is not hilarious?#like let's be real the only thing this man can do is shrug like #who the fuck am i to judge #love you!#oh also is anyone surprised that the thing that finally flipped maul’s brain to talk is Jedi stupidity?#I hope not because I’m living for it

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Pretense

Here’s a one-shot fanfic from me, still on Legend of Korra.

- Lin/Tenzin, pre-LOK AU

- One-shot, completed

- Length: Approx 8.9k

Overview:

As far as the Earth Kingdom is concerned, Lin Beifong is in a relationship with the son of the Avatar.

No, not that one.

---

Lin could not believe that they managed to pull it off.

It has been a week since she arrived at Ba Sing Se. So far, it has gone well.

She towel-dried her hair as she moved around the room to get ready. The metalbender has just finished her shower right after coming home from training with the Dai Li.

Lin had always wanted to train with them. She felt that, aside from her mother, they would be a good source of learning different earthbending styles.

As expected, her grandmother Poppy was more than unwilling to have her train – for what good man would indeed wish to be with a brutish young lady like her. On the other hand, Toph Beifong was quite supportive but was hesitant on the grounds that it might hinder her progress with the police force.

Ever the people-pleaser as her pestering sister described her, Lin struggled to come to a solution that would hopefully meet all their concerns. By some fortunate coincidence, someone swooped in with a proposal, which she accepted after weighing the pros and cons.

Sliding into a long deep scarlet dress, Lin quickly pinned up her hair and applied lip stick. It would simply not do for one of the ladies of the Noble House of Beifong to be seen unkempt.

This was the concession of her temporary move to Ba Sing Se: train with the Dai Li by day - attend society events at night.

It was enough to satisfy both her mother and grandmother. Toph hated these events expected from the current head of the Beifong family. Having Lin attend to it in her stead works for both of them - Toph gets to stay in Republic City and Lin gets to show her family (and the world) that she is highly capable in navigating these events. This way, no one need worry about the Beifongs not being recognized within the Earth Kingdom.

There was a knock at the door. Lin took one last look in the mirror and went to open it.

To add to her advantage, showing up with a date every time for these events keeps possible entanglements at bay.

“You look wonderful, Lin.”

After all, what better way to repel unwanted admirers than showing up at the arm of the Avatar’s son?

“Thanks, you look good too, Bumi.”

---

Tenzin unfolded the letter.

This was the address, he confirmed, standing in front of a tall nondescript gate, blocking the view and entrance to a residence in the Middle Ring in Ba Sing Se.

He rang the bell and waited.

The airbender shifted his bag from shoulder to shoulder, his robes billowing in the wind but interestingly not drawing attention from any passersby. He figured it was a good call to leave Oogi at the Air Temple and take a train to the Earth Kingdom instead, less commotion and less accommodations needed. He did not want to unnecessarily impose on others after all.

Tenzin was at the last leg of his travels and it happened to be a stop at the Earth Kingdom, specifically at Ba Sing Se University. Initially having thought that only minimal information documenting the Air Nomad culture survived the genocide, after the deposition of Ozai, more and more have contacted the Avatar to share artifacts and knowledge of the Air Nomads that they had hidden away during the war. Aang had eagerly responded to each of these letters and began to acquire these relics beholden to his culture. When Tenzin became of age and was to embark on his travels as a new airbending master, he sought to continue this practice and exploration. This is what brings him to Ba Sing Se University.

He had been writing to his mother to update her; telling of his plans to stop at the Earth Kingdom before going home to Air Temple Island. Katara had suggested to contact his brother who would be there for a diplomatic assignment. Tenzin was skeptical; he did not have a close relationship with his siblings after all. Nonetheless, to appease his mother, he did write to Bumi asking if he could stay for a couple of weeks with him. To his surprise, Bumi had responded in the affirmative.

“Coming!”

A voice answered the bell, a voice which was obviously not Bumi and was distinctly feminine.

The gate swung open, and Tenzin gaped.

“Hi Tenzin, you’re early!” Lin Beifong stood before him, clad in a gold qipao. For a moment Tenzin was not able to respond, focusing his attention on the curl at her neck that must have escaped the bun on top of her head.

“H-hello, Lin.”

She invited him in. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

We?

“I was able to catch the first train out and so cut a day from my travel time.” He managed to respond as Lin led him to the house.

“I see, we were going to fetch you.”

“So, is it really Tenzin?” A loud voice came from one of the inner rooms of the house.

The metalbender rolled her eyes. “Of course, has my seismic sense failed us yet?”

“One could hope not.” Bumi came into view, wearing a towel tied at his waist and nothing much else. “Tennyboy! Great to see you!” The military man clapped his hands then moved to embrace his brother tightly and lifting him up. “Welcome to Ba Sing Se.”

“Good to see you too, Bumi.” Tenzin gasped out, dropping his bags, and patting his older brother back.

From his peripheral view, he could see Lin watching them with amusement.

“I want to hear all about what you’re up to here, baby brother.” Bumi set Tenzin back on the ground, crossing his arms, unmindful of his still dripping hair from his shower.

Lin cleared her throat and both men turned to her. She simply raised an eyebrow.

“Ah right,” Bumi shrugged. “Lin and I were on our way out for a charity event, would you want to join us?”

“Um, thanks but no.” Tenzin thought it would be the height of poor manners to show up uninvited by the hosts to a formal dinner. “I’ll settle in first.” He gestured to his things.

“Maybe next time, then.” Suddenly aware of his semi-nakedness, Bumi quickly addressed Lin. “Lin, if you could show him to his room? I’ll finish getting ready.”

Lin inclined her head and beckoned Tenzin to follow her.

Tenzin, although bewildered, followed Lin as she showed him where everything was (pantry, kitchen, living room). He also noted the shiny red embroidery on Lin’s dress that crept from the shoulder (is that a dragon?) to the small of her back which then drew his attention to her –

“And here is your bedroom.” Lin pushed open one of the doors.

“Thanks.” He paused just in time not to crash into the woman in front of him.

“If there’s anything you need, well, just let Bumi know.”

And, with a curt nod, Lin left Tenzin to settle in and wonder what he just got into.

---

Tenzin heard the front door open hours later as he sat at the living room, having a cup of tea while going over his notes.

“That was tough.” Bumi’s deep timbre echoed in the silent house.

Both he and Lin came into Tenzin’s view as they entered. Lin removed her heels and all but collapsed at the couch. “Remind me to decline any event that comes right after physical training sessions.”

“I did remind you,” Bumi slid down beside her, nodding at Tenzin to acknowledge his presence. “And you said, and I quote – ‘it’s just a short event, how bad can it be?’”

Lin covered her face with hands and groaned. “I underestimated the amount of networking that they expected during a charity event.”

Bumi laughed good-naturedly, patting Lin’s back. “Hey, Ten – how was your afternoon?”

“Good, good. I managed to unpack everything. All set for tomorrow.” Tenzin waved a sheaf of papers.

The non-bender looked between the metalbender who was slumped on the couch, eyes closed, and the airbender at his other side, clearly up for a long night of paperwork. An idea came to him. “I know, let’s all go out and have a late dinner and some drinks to welcome to you to Ba Sing Se.�� He placed an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “What do you say?”

Tenzin grimaced a bit, having travelled conventionally without his sky bison was tiring. “Thanks for the offer but I’d rather stay in and get some rest.”

Bumi nudged Lin, who gave him a baleful glare. “Okay, no.” He laughed and got up, checking his pockets to make sure he has enough money. “I’ll just get us some take-out and we’ll eat in then.”

“That’s the first time you made sense tonight.” Lin grumbled.

With promises of a well-balanced meal for them of both vegetables, meat, and booze, Bumi loped off.

Lin remained in the couch, sighing as she stretched her legs and then tucked them to herself.

Tenzin adjusted his glasses and surreptitiously observed Lin as he went through his research notes.

He always had a soft spot for this childhood friend. They spent most of their toddler years and early childhood with one another, but Lin (and eventually Su) had been shuttled back and forth from Gaoling and Republic City. This was highly dependent on the Beifong grandparents as well as Toph’s schedule (and how dangerous her cases were). Meanwhile, his education has turned to focusing on Air Nomad culture. Their days intersected less and less as time passed by.

Their friendship dwindled, and they were not as close as they could have been.

Truth be told, as he watched Lin stretch once more then pad over to the kitchen with familiarity, he did not even know what she had been up to recently. He had some inkling to it (mostly relating to the police academy) but he did not expect her to be in Ba Sing Se. And most especially not around in Bumi’s UF provided residence.

He did harbor crush on the earthbender in their adolescence; surely at least Bumi knew about it, if his subsequent teasing during his visits to Air Temple Island were any proof.

Tenzin shook his head.

That was then and this was now; he had grown up and something as silly as a childhood crush was soon forgotten.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself as Lin came back to the living room, placing her own cup of tea on the table then disappearing to Bumi’s bedroom, claiming to retrieve a book she had been reading earlier.

Yes, it was all forgotten, Tenzin convinced himself even as he felt a pit form at his stomach.

---

The next time that Lin was over, Tenzin was lugging with him a large book bag filled with loaned books from the university library. After a couple of visits, he felt that the scrutiny from some of the staff and students made him uncomfortable. There was no denying who he was, with his tattoos brightly announcing to the world his mastery of a long thought to be dead element.

The fawning and the preferential treatment were a little less bad than how the air acolytes had regarded him. That was not conducive to his productivity and so he decided to bring home as much relevant material as he could instead and work from there.

He had only managed to spread out all the books and was in the process of cataloging the references when Lin burst into the house.

“Is Bumi home?” Lin appeared have rushed over, and Tenzin appreciated the flush on her cheeks and neck exposed by the tank top she wore.

Tenzin made a noise and pointed to Bumi’s bedroom and was responded to by a hasty thanks.

---

“You said you had news?” Lin asked without preamble upon entering the bedroom.

“Spirits, Linny!” Bumi shouted, pretending to cover himself up with his blanket when he was obviously doing some mending of his clothes. “What if I had been indecent?”

Lin simply snorted. “I’ve seen you in worse conditions.” She was no doubt pertaining to the time he had gotten drunk, and she had to bail him out. “So, what is this about?” She sat at the edge of the bed, mindful of the sewing basket.

“Eh,” Bumi shrugged unconcerned but grinning. He tossed her an opened letter. “See for yourself.”

Skimming through the letter, a grin formed on Lin’s face as well. “Bumi! This is great!”

Prior to his assignment in Ba Sing Se, Bumi was short-listed for the next round of promotions. While tried and tested in the field, Bumi’s skills in diplomacy were yet to be proven. This latest assignment was a chance to prove just that.

And as in everything in his life, Bumi had to work doubly hard to prove himself. He had been a month in Ba Sing Se, attending meetings in the Royal Court, with the legislature and the kingdom’s security. He felt that he was not making a lot of leeway into reaching the accord that the United Forces needed with the Earth Kingdom. Their queen, Hou-Ting, had recently ascended to the throne and was distrustful of anything linked to the United Republic.

He had taken a couple of days off to visit his mother to take a breather and maybe a change in the scenery would give him more ideas how to approach the dilemma. He was going to sneak into the kitchen for a late breakfast when he overheard a conversation between his mother and Toph Beifong – which ended up with him seeking Lin to discuss a mutually-benefitting proposal…

This brings them to this moment where one of Bumi’s superiors had sent a missive on how one of the Earth Kingdom nobles had revisited his stance on the agreement between the United Republic and the Earth Kingdom. Included in the letter as well as a congratulatory note to continue whatever tactic he has employed as the results were in their favor. It was a simple introduction into the right company, an assistance that came in the form of Lady Lin of the Noble House of Beifong, who knew the Who’s Who in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se and the influential nobility in the Earth Kingdom.

“We should celebrate these little wins.” Lin handed the letter back. From her end, she will know if her presence in the upper-class of the Earth Kingdom has made any impact once she hears from her grandmother (who in turn, would have learned from one of her contemporaries living in Ba Sing Se).

“I don’t see why not.” Bumi merely tossed his mending into his sewing basket.

Grasping Lin’s arm and eagerly bringing her to the living room, he called out to his serious brother. “Tenzin! Get up, man – we’re going out to celebrate!”

---

Tenzin looked up to his beaming brother and Lin who was blushing from Bumi’s arm.

He wanted to decline joining them, fearing an outing of being the third wheel to the couple. At the same time, it had been a long time since he had spent time with Lin (and Bumi for that matter). Additionally, for some reason, that he did not want to dwell on right now, he did not want to leave the couple alone to their own devices.

Seeing Lin’s smile and Tenzin knew his decision was made for him.

It was not too bad, not really.

Lin and Bumi had tossed banter, speaking of nobles and politics that flew over Tenzin’s head. He did not bother to clarify, thinking that it must be some sort of inside joke between the two. Or something confidential related to their fields of work.

They selected a small food court still in the Middle Ring, which catered to the varied crowd with different cuisines. Bumi ordered mounds of varied barbecued meats and sauces.

Tenzin noticed that Bumi did not order anything for Lin and Lin was left perusing the menu on her own.

The waiter stood patiently; pen poised over his notepad ready for their order.

“I’ll have the green mango salad please.”

“The green mango salad for me.”

Bumi looked at them with amusement. “Seems like you’ve finally found someone who enjoys shrimp paste as much as you do, Lin.”

Lin simply pursed her lips and went on to order another entrée on top of the salad (squid ink noodles) and a glass of cold tea.

Tenzin added an order of seaweed noodles for himself.

Once their orders arrived and they have dug in, Lin and Tenzin continued to rib Bumi for not having green mango salad, which in this case, included a healthy dollop of shrimp paste.

“I’m telling you, Bumi, this salad is good.” Tenzin insisted, taking in several bites of the salad. “You can’t know until you try it.”

“No, thank you.” Bumi grimaced with slight disgust. “It stinks high heaven.”

“I find it a good deterrent on a first date,” Lin happily mixed the shrimp paste into the leafy vegetables and sliced mangoes. “Makes it easier for me to weed out those with unscrupulous intentions.”

“Seriously, Lin – unscrupulous? You’re the only other person aside from Tennyboy here who uses words with more than three syllables.” Bumi evaded a slice of mango that the earthbender tossed him. “Well, there you have it Tenzin, if you do find that unique lady who would share this horrific salad with you – you could be rest assured that she’s not after your good name, your esteem or a good time that night.”

Lin chortled. “I doubt anyone who was looking to hooking up will even order it in the first place.”

“Imagine the stink during foreplay…” Bumi waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with a slap upside his head from the earthbender.

Tenzin thought that he would not mind sharing a salad with Lin while on a date.

As Lin reached out her chopsticks to snatch a piece of meat from Bumi’s plate, which Bumi subsequently tapped away lightly, the airbender sneaked two pieces of meat from Bumi to Lin’s plate when his brother was preoccupied.

This was the Lin that he knew, in a plain tank top and loose pants. Not the Gaoling heiress made up with a fancy bun and a tight dress. While she did look beautiful in her formal attire, Tenzin thought that she was especially radiant tonight in her natural state.

The grateful grin that Lin gave him was enough to remind him that maybe his little crush was not all gone.

---

Later that night, after Lin went home, Tenzin made a mistake of hovering in the kitchen as Bumi put away some of their leftovers.

“Something’s bothering you.”

“N-no.” Tenzin stammered out.

“You’re making that face.” Bumi waved a hand in front of Tenzin’s face.

“This is my face, that’s all.” Tenzin knew the non-bender could be stubborn and will not budge unless he gave in. “Fine.” He sighed. “Seriously, Bumi – Lin? She – she’s not even your type.”

“So, I have a type, eh?” Bumi stood up to his full height, sending a critical look at the younger man.

“You know what I mean.” Tenzin crossed his arms. He sought to phrase his thoughts in a way that will not insult either Lin or his brother. “You take her on dates, and she doesn’t seem like the usual girls you go out with.”

A flash of something crossed Bumi’s face and a knowing smile formed. “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Think about it Ten, Lin Beifong has brains, beauty, and brawn – the complete package. Anyone should think that she’s their type.” He flexed his arms, giving his brother mischievous wink. “Now, she’s got Bumi too.”

The sinking feeling that Tenzin felt since the start of the night grew heavier as he watched his brother gleefully say his good night and left him to his thoughts in the kitchen.

What was he thinking? Reviving feelings over his brother’s girlfriend? That just was not gentlemanly to do nor was it right.

---

As much as Tenzin wanted to avoid Lin, he found that it was near impossible with the frequency of Lin dropping by or Bumi coming home with Lin.

The couple would also be very considerate and would often invite him to join them at their formal events. To date, Tenzin had not accepted any of their invites yet.

It was also hard to ignore the earthbender as Lin would usually be the one to initial conversation, usually by poking through his notes and the materials sprawled on the coffee table. If there was anything that Tenzin could talk about all day, it was anything and everything to do with the Air Nation and their nomadic culture.

Lin’s sincere interest in the topics similarly encouraged him to open up to her.

And, hopefully, dare he wished, her to him.

---

Finding more in common with him with their esoteric food tastes compared to Bumi, Lin had taken to bringing some packed food from the food court from time to time.

In one of their conversations, she admitted to Tenzin that while she did enjoy eating out with Bumi, the soirees that they go to tend to serve the usual Earth Kingdom Upper Ring fare and it tends to get a little bit redundant after some time. While she would love to sample more of the dishes in the multi-cultural food court, most of the orders were good for sharing. And, after an ill-advised selection with Bumi (which ended up with the man looking green the entire night, to be fair Bumi was a champ and had not complained all night and had valiantly finished their food), Lin did not have the courage to order more with the non-bender.

To her delight, Tenzin offered to do these taste tests with her. Unfortunately, the schedules that they both adhere to had prevented any outings like the night that they all went out with Bumi.

Lin came up with a solution and would stop by the stalls and the food court to order a dish or two to try. Then, over their paperwork (Lin had taken to bringing over her own paperwork to go through at Bumi’s house), the two of them would share this meal, pretending to review the dishes with posh and snooty language they read in the lifestyle section of the Ba Sing Se gazette.

Lin found herself looking forward more and more to these nights, a reprieve from the arduous Dai Li training and highly decorous hobnobbing with the Upper Ring.

Tenzin’s calming presence and dry wit kept Lin interested to spend more time with the airbender. It was as though they were picking up back from their previously close relationship.

Don’t get her wrong, she also enjoyed the company that Bumi provided when they go out on their dates. He was a good conversationalist and he helped her deftly navigate through the upper echelon of the Earth Kingdom society. Bumi is a good older brother who shared her experience in a similar industry, someone to talk to in terms of career and the practicalities of life.

Tenzin on the other hand…

Lin tilted her head in consideration while the airbender absentmindedly tapped his pen to his chin, a mannerism that she now recognized.

The airbender made her feel heard and seen.

She made a face and turned to face her own papers.

Put it like that makes it sound so sappy and un-Lin-like.

And yet, it felt right.

---

Tenzin had finished his research an hour or so ago.

He was now vacillating between going to bed early and leaving a few books on the table, in the illogical hope that maybe when Lin drops by later with Bumi she will be intrigued enough to stay for a chat. It sounded so stupid.

A beat.

He wants that.

He looked at the clock. Lin and Bumi will not be back for a few more hours.

While he was contemplating this conundrum that he placed himself in, the door opened and in limped Bumi, an arm over Lin’s shoulder.

Tenzin immediately stood up to take Bumi’s other arm to assist. “What happened?” He peered at his brother.

“Genius here decided that he was strong enough to -.” Lin had started to respond but Bumi swiftly twisted to cover her mouth with his hand.

“It’s not important how I got injured- just that I did.” Bumi interrupted as he held Lin’s gaze.

The unspoken communication between the two was too much for Tenzin and was about to leave the couple alone when Lin rolled her eyes and mumbled her agreement.

Bumi placed his arm again on his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s hop to it, Ten-Lin.” He ordered imperiously, nodding towards his bedroom.

“Of course, my liege.” Lin muttered, snark and sarcasm dripping from her words as they assisted the non-bender.

With a bit of maneuvering, Tenzin and Lin were able to place Bumi on his bed. Tenzin then noticed the glint of metal at his brother’s foot.

“Do you need any more help?” He directed his question to Lin rather than his brother who seemed to be smiling loopily at them.

“Ooooh Ten-Lin,” Bumi called out in an odd singsong voice then patted the bed beside him. “Care to have a heart-to-heart with Papa Boomboom here?”

Papa Boomboom?

“I’m good.” Lin shook her head, pulling at Bumi’s shoes and tapping the metal brace that she appeared to have created. “The healer on site was able to give him first aid and painkillers. He’ll be out in no time.” She was resolutely ignoring Bumi’s waggling eyebrows.

Tenzin inched out and quietly closed the door behind him, not wanting to find out what Papa Boomboom was up to, similarly disregarding Bumi calling out “Ten-Lin! Ten-Lin!” as he left.

By the time Lin got out of the bedroom, the airbender was back in his spot in the living room, nursing a warm cup of genmaicha. His things were now in a neat pile on the coffee table. His hope of a conversation with Lin that he had initially looked forward to now a thing of the past. With his brother in semi-lucidity and injured to boot, no doubt Lin would be spending her visit (or even staying over) at Bumi’s bedside.

It was to Tenzin’s astonishment when Lin plopped beside him at her spot on the couch a couple of minutes later.

“Do you still have some of that?”

He blinked before realizing that Lin was pertaining to the genmaicha. “Ah yes, there’s more in the pot in the kitchen – let me get it for you.” He added belatedly, something warm curling within him at Lin’s soft smile as she thanked him.

The airbender got up to get the teapot while the earthbender proceeded to remove her shoes.

Lin was flexing then curling and uncurling her toes when he got back.

“Why do you even wear those shoes if they’re so uncomfortable?” He could not help but ask as he set the tea tray down on the table.

“It goes with the dress.” Lin nonchalantly stated as she shifted in her seat. She tucked both of her legs to her side at the couch and Tenzin had to concentrate on pouring her tea as her green silk skirt hiked a bit.

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence for a few moments.

As always, Lin was the one who broke the quiet. “Aren’t you going to ask about Bumi?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I want to know what happened but I’ll bite – how is he?”

“He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Lin scoffed. “I’ve removed the brace. Nothing else bruised except for his ego. Not going to give everything away but he injured himself because of a dance move.”

Tenzin was mid-sip and had choked on the tea.

“Easy there,” Lin moved to rub Tenzin’s back in circles, in an attempt to help him.

Unknown to her, it only heightened his embarrassment and the soothing movements only contributed to his discomfort.

“Dance move?” He eventually garbled out, having regained his composure.

Lin’s lips quirked up. “Yes, don’t go teasing him on it yet though. Keep that in your back pocket. You’ll never know when you might need it.” She removed her hand on his back and Tenzin felt its absence acutely. She reached for the pot on the table to refill her own cup. She then caught sight of the title of the topmost book that Tenzin had.

As Tenzin had hoped earlier, the earthbender brought their attention to the book and asked about his progress in his research on the instruments of the Air Nomads.

Eventually the pot has been refilled and emptied, their cups left cold as their conversation suitably engaged them until the late hours of the night.

“Wouldn’t that be grand though,” Tenzin had expressed. “If we were able to have enough artifacts to host in a museum. I mean, Dad was able to transport the ancient airbending gates to Air Temple Island. It would be great if we’ll find something more to add.”

Lin, who, by now, did not care that her skirt was wrinkled and was now hugging a throw pillow to her chest, observed. “You really enjoy what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Bits and pieces of it,” He picked at the frayed edges of his notes. “The thing I hate the most about being the Avatar’s airbending son is the travelling.”

“Oh?” The tone was non-judgmental but curious.

“I know it sounds terribly ungrateful.” Tenzin fidgeted. “But I really disliked moving from one temple to the other. I’m not made for this nomadic lifestyle. I sometimes think that being an airbender was wasted on me.” He had never spoken of this to anyone, not even his mother. “I would have been utterly contented spending my days at Republic City or at Air Temple Island even.”

He expected a rebuke or a scathing remark on him being an ingrate (Agni knows how some senior acolytes had spoken behind his back whenever he deviated from Air Nomad culture).

“What would you rather do if this wasn’t expected of you?” Lin’s gentle query and earnest expression was a balm to his anxious soul.

“Maybe a teacher or a scribe.” There was something about Lin that was drawing him in, making him want to be honest as possible. “Nothing fancy, nothing worth writing home about.”

“You’d be a good teacher,” She considered. “You’re very patient and very much willing to impart whatever knowledge you have.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, Lin’s intense grey gaze on him. “How about you? What if… you weren’t born a Beifong?”

He could see the hesitation. “Can you keep a secret?” Lin whispered, inching towards him after a few moments.

Tenzin could only nod. At this point, he will probably do anything for her.

She curled her finger at him, beckoning him closer, close enough to whisper in his ear. “I wanted to be a dancer.”

“I could see it.” There had always been something graceful with how Lin used to manipulate her metal cables. Where her mother was firmly stuck to the ground with rough movements, Lin seemed to be lighter on her feet with more fluid motions. He has not seen Lin metalbend recently; he could only imagine the difference a couple of years training would make on improving her bending.

“Really?” The surprise was apparent on her face.

Tenzin idly wondered if she, like him, thought that their dreams were ridiculous considering the heaviness of the mantle that were their parents’ legacies.

“Why not? I think you’d be good at it.” On a whim, maybe it was the lateness of the hour, the cathartic feeling of telling someone of his dream and insecurities, Tenzin let the words escape before he could even filter them. “Dance with me.” He stood up and extended a hand to the earthbender who was still curled up on the couch.

“What?” Lin’s eyes widened slightly (is that a faint blush he sees on her cheeks?).

“Dance with me.” He repeated.

“But there’s no music.” Despite saying that, she held his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tenzin positioned themselves closer, he was sure it was not an airbending dance position but something he saw on a visit to the Fire Nation. “It’s just you and me now.”

After few false starts, both got into a steady rhythm with Tenzin leading.

As Lin grew more relaxed in his arms, Tenzin knew he would take what he could now. He felt like he was just doused with cold water with the epiphany he had. He was just fooling himself. His crush was not over, far from it.

His feelings were stronger than ever.

His eyes landed on Bumi’s bedroom door.

His feelings which should remain hidden as they were towards his brother’s girlfriend. His feelings which he will never act on.

It never did cross his mind to wonder why the woman was still there in the house, spending time with him willingly hours after her supposed boyfriend had turned in for the night.

---

“Nobleman with a distasteful mustache at three o'clock, Lin.” Bumi whispered at her side, clutching her elbow as they weaved through the crowd.

Lin stood ramrod straight. “That’s the nephew of one of Grandma's friends.”

It was at situations like this that she valued Bumi's presence at her side. Nonetheless, they made sure to act in accordance with proprietary.

She overheard several matrons saying that it was a pity that Lady Beifong appeared to be spoken for; their son/grandson/nephew would have been perfect for her.

However, in all the soirees and events that they have been attending, no one had outright asked them the status of their relationship. Lin was not about to disabuse them of their assumptions as no one was brave enough to confirm anything with her.

This at least left her to freely engage in conversation without fear of misconstrued intentions. This also allowed Bumi to be included in these discussions where he would expertly drop opinions or statements that may influence their thinking in relation to the United Forces or the current political climate.

No one thought twice of the presence of the non-bending son of the Avatar – If the Beifongs approved of this military son of a pacifist, then he was good enough to mingle among the Earth Kingdom elite.

As the two of them navigated their way to the buffet table, Bumi casually asked. “When this is over, aren’t you worried about them vultures descending upon you? Or Republic City gossip rags?”

Lin hummed as she perused the selection. “No, not really. We’re far away from Republic City and this is very exclusive society is not about to dish out to anyone outside of their circle. That’s what keeps them in power.” She picked up a piece of bruschetta. “And besides, maybe I’ll ask Mom to send Su here in the next season – find herself a good husband or something.”

“Lin, she’s barely twenty.” Bumi commented, eyes twinkling in amusement.

The earthbender merely shrugged.

“And, what about you?” He prodded her side as they sat back at their table. “Any romantic entanglements you see in the horizon?” It was to Bumi’s credit that he detected the barely noticeable tightening of her jaw and widening of eyes. “So, there is someone!” He announced gleefully, turning a few heads their way.

“No, there isn’t.” Lin grumbled, stabbing a fork into the plateful of food that she had taken.

“Playing dumb with me never worked, Lin Beifong, even when we were children.”

Lin hated how Bumi was able to read her easily; their equally matched observational skills honed by their respective careers.

“Don’t think I didn’t see it coming or that I did not see it happening.”

She resolutely brushed him off and focused on her plate.

“What are you going to do about it?” Where Lin might be stubborn, Bumi was downright obstinate and pushy.

“There’s nothing I should do anything about.”

Bumi glanced at her pensively over the glass he was sipping from. “Maybe you’re right – you shouldn’t have to do anything.”

“Oh Bumi, you’re reading too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything,” She turned away. “Besides, he probably has some sweetheart waiting for him at one of the temples. We’re just friends.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

We’re just friends.

At least, that was what Lin told herself even as she once again found herself sitting at Bumi’s living room that night long after Bumi had gone to bed.

---

“What did that piece of paper do to offend you?”

Tenzin paused the incessant pen tapping that he had been unconsciously doing as the notice he received was pulled from under the pen. He twiddled with his fingers while Lin read the document. “I got an offer from the university to hold a series of lectures in the coming days.”

Lin congratulated him on the offer. “What are you displeased about then? Surely it’s not about the lack of topics that you’ll discuss.” She raised an eyebrow at the stack of folders on the table, each labelled with meticulous care.

“No, it’s not that.” He waved it off. “I just – I don’t know if I can make it interesting enough for them.”

She handed him one of the folders. “Try me.”

“Come again?”

Lin leaned back in the couch, getting comfortable. “Practice with me, pretend I’m one of those bright-eyed students that you’ll be teaching.”

Yes, pretend.

Little did they know, both were pretending for each other’s sake long before they realized it.

---

“In all honesty, I envy Bumi and Kya.”

“You do?”

A nod. “They get to live their life the way they wanted it to be. There’s not a lot riding on their shoulders. Whatever they are doing now – they wanted it, they’re living the life that they want because they can.”

“Is that what you truly think?” The earthbender’s piercing stare held his gaze. He hoped that whatever she found conveyed his honesty. “Maybe you need to check in with them. They might see things differently.”

---

It was one of the rare weekends that Bumi, Lin, and Tenzin found themselves free from any engagement. They took this opportunity to head to dine at their usual food court.

While Bumi and Lin scouted for an empty table, Tenzin browsed the menu of one of the newly opened stalls.

“Master Tenzin?”

Tenzin turned to who called him and came face to face with a vaguely familiar woman.

“I’m Pema – from the lectures?” The student obviously expected that he would remember her.

“Ah yes,” Tenzin awkwardly responded because he did not really recall a lot from the sea of faces. “From yesterday’s morning session?”

The girl, Pema, beamed at him, nodding. “And the afternoon session from the day before, and the one session lecture the day before that.”

“Oh, so you managed to attend all of them?” There was mild interest in his tone now. Maybe he was able to get through the Ba Sing Se students. “Which topic interested you the most?”

Pema began to explain excitedly when Tenzin saw Lin wave at him from a few tables away.

“Say, are you eating alone?” At the very least, politeness made him invite the young woman.

“I-I-That is to say -no- I mean, yes.” Pema shifted her eyes.

“Would you like to join us?” At her nod, Tenzin motioned to have her follow him to their table.

Upon approaching, Tenzin saw that Lin and Bumi had already given their orders to the waiter.

At Lin’s raised eyebrow and Bumi’s curious look, Tenzin introduced Pema and said that she would be joining them today.

The waiter handed both a copy of the menu while Tenzin pulled the chair in front of Bumi for Pema to sit on.

“Ahh, Pema, is it?” Bumi placed an arm around the back of Lin’s chair. “Any idea what you would be getting?”

“I, um, not sure yet.” She hid behind the menu, brows furrowing.

Bumi grinned mischievously while catching his brother’s eye.

That can’t be good, Tenzin thought silently.

“Might I make a recommendation?” The non-bender leaned forward and at Pema’s nod, pointed on an item on the menu she was holding. “Tenzin loves this.” Bumi winced subtly that Tenzin could surmise was because Lin must have kicked him under the table.

“Oh, yes of course!” Was Pema’s immediate reaction and ordered.

Tenzin was surprised and ordered his food as well. When the waiter had taken all their orders and left, the airbender turned to the student. “You like the green mango salad?”

“Yes, I do – I enjoy it a lot.” Pema enthusiastically agreed.

“Even the shrimp paste?” Bumi asked innocently but sending a sly look at Lin, who steadfastly kept silent.

“Especially the shrimp paste. It gives it the texture and distinct salty taste.”

“Indeed.”

Tenzin finally caught Lin’s eye and there was an odd expression on her face that he could not explain.

Bumi proceeded to liven up the table with conversation and even make Pema feel at ease. It was one of the traits of his brother that Tenzin envied.

The rest of their meal went by uneventfully and they all got to know Pema a little bit more and her interest in the lectures from the past days. As Bumi did not draw attention to the unusually taciturn earthbender beside him, Tenzin did not attempt to draw her into conversation as well despite his confusion. Lin would commonly be a little bit more talkative during their small outings like this.

Maybe she had a bad day?

As the meal winded down, Tenzin thought he rather wanted to see more of Pema. At least, to not remain as a third wheel to the couple in front of him.

“So, we might have, uh, tea after dinner. Would you like to join us?”

Pema’s effusive acceptance became garbled to his ears as he detected the sudden screeching of the metal chair in front of him being pushed back.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

Both Bumi and Tenzin turned to Lin, who was only maintaining eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Oh right, your… report.” Bumi motioned to stand up as well. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

His brother’s unexpectedly gentle tone made Tenzin think if there is something else that he missed. A subtext that passed known only to the couple.

Lin tilted her head and smiled weakly. “No need, I can manage.”

Nonetheless, Bumi stood up, made their excuses to Tenzin and Pema.

Tenzin looked on as Lin allowed herself to be escorted by Bumi. The lie of having a report waiting for her tasting bitter in the airbender’s mouth.

But why?

“I suppose tea is out of question now.” Pema said shrewdly, moving to stand up as well when Bumi and Lin was out of their line of sight.

Maybe she was more perceptive than Tenzin gave her credit for.

If Pema thought that he was about to invite her elsewhere, she was mistaken, and Tenzin extended his hand to shake hers. “Pleased to meet you, Pema, thank you.” He paused and somewhat awkwardly added. “And good luck on your studies.”

Tenzin closed his eyes for a moment, a headache already forming.

He froze.

There on the table, beside Pema’s empty plate of what used to contain her order of skewers, was a full bowl of green mango salad, mixed but not a single bite taken out of it.

---

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s too young.”

He knew his older brother was right, but it stung to be called an idiot.

Ever since Lin urged him to talk to his siblings, Tenzin had consciously made time to connect to Bumi.

Along the way, he learned about how different their views of their childhood were. Bumi, on his part, was quite candid and the airbender appreciated that. More than once, Tenzin was tempted to evade some of their talks that were bordering on painful (cut-and-run much?). He felt that he owed it to his brother though to power through.

But tonight, there were emotions that were too raw to filter. If the couple just wanted some time together, they need not fabricate Lin having to work on a report. They need not pity him for being their third wheel.

“Lin is too young for you too and you don’t hear me berating you for it.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it, really?”

“Well, if you get your head out of your behind, maybe you’ll see what’s right in front of you.”

---

Letters swapped hands.

“Training’s almost done and as you can see there, Grandma has already received news from the grapevine about what an asset I am to the Beifong line.”

Bumi refolded the letter after reading. “I suppose your time in Ba Sing Se has come to an end then?”

“Only if you think you don’t need me anymore.” Lin paused and gave a short laugh, finding her phrasing funny. “I mean, if you think you don’t need help anymore with your assignment?” She leaned back, tapping the letter from Bumi’s superior in her hand.

“I should say mission accomplished to us both.” Bumi drew Lin into his arms. “Thank you.”

It was most unfortunate that it was in this good-bye scene that the airbender arrived to.

---

The raindrops continue to fall, leaving staccato beats on the roof top.

The entirety of Ba Sing Se was coated in a haze that enveloped the typically green and brown place in a blueish gray hue.

The peaceful scene should have relaxed the airbender.

Tenzin sighed.

But it did not.

Not when he could hear characteristically feminine giggles from his brother's room.

He checked the clock, too early to have visitors over unless it were visitors who never left the night before.

His knuckles turned white, tightly grasping his mug.

As much as he felt that he should come clean to Bumi about his feelings for Lin (his girlfriend), his head was telling him not to. It would be another thing that Bumi might hold against him (on top of a lot of other childhood insecurities that their father inadvertently caused).

He just wants both Lin and Bumi to be happy. Even if it means hearing what they have been up to in the early hours of the day.

“Ah, Spirits what a turn out – it’s as though Tui and La decided to inundate the entire Earth Kingdom by flooding it.”

Tenzin’s head jerked up.

Lin Beifong was standing in the edge of their kitchen, hair dripping wet.

His mind was sluggish in realizing, shocked as it was to see the earthbender.

“Do you still have some of that?” Lin waggled her fingers towards Tenzin’s mug of genmaicha.

“Oh, yes – where are my manners –.” Tenzin tripped over his words and hastily poured her a cup. Then reaching over to the coat rack and draping his coat over her, he admonished her lightly. “What were you doing out in this deluge anyway? You’ll get sick!”

“Well, Bumi told me that you intend to leave in a few days’ time and as I was preparing for my trip back to Republic City, I thought that -.”

A door creaked open. “Lemme grab us a bite from the pantry; we need sustenance if we want to last all the way to noon.”

Damn.

“Oh.” Bumi stumbled into the room, completing their peculiar tableau of a dripping earthbender cloaked in red and yellow, a pale shock airbender standing at the edge of the room and a military man that, for whatever intent and purposes he may have, was wearing nothing.

Tenzin’s pale skin started to redden, comprehension dawning on him. “Oh – that’s all you have to say?” If Lin was here – then who was with Bumi the entire night/morning back in his bedroom?

The non-bender scratched his bum. “What did you want me to say?”

“Oh, for Spirits’ sake, Bumi cover yourself!” Lin averted her eyes. “I may not act like it the whole time, but I still am a lady!”

“Ah Beifong,” Bumi smiled devilishly, his hand moving from his head to his legs. “Come take a look at what you’re actually missing out on.”

Lin pointedly faced the ice box, her back to the naked man. “No way, I’m not missing on anything.”

“Come on, Linny!”

“No, Bumi.” Lin snorted a laugh then bent her head over her cup of genmaicha.

Tenzin felt like he was going to explode.

How dare Bumi disregard Lin Beifong just like that? Flaunting his floozy---

How dare Lin not call him out – it was beyond disrespectful!

What’s more: being in a relationship with Lin was something he personally wanted for himself - not because of his father, not because he is an airbender, but because he wanted this. To see Bumi taking her for granted was like a knife twisting in his chest.

“Get yourself some clothes before you catch a cold.”

“You dry yourself before you catch a cold.”

Why were they skirting over the obvious issue?

Tenzin let out a strangled sound.

“Something wrong, Tennyboy? Your vein is about to burst on your forehead.”

“Something wrong?” The airbender’s voice went a pitch higher. “Something. Wrong. You –.” He pointed aggressively at his brother. “Just spent the night with some,” He clenched and unclenched his fist as he tried to select the appropriate word. “Woman that is not your girlfriend!”

Lin’s eyes shot to Bumi’s. “You have a girlfriend?”

Bumi raised both hands. “Wait a minute, you know I don’t. This,” His shoulder gestured towards the bedroom. “Is a recent development and it’s just for fun, you know, and she definitely knows.”

“What!” Tenzin’s gasped out.

“Wait a minute,” Bumi snapped his fingers. “Lin, you didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell him what?” The earthbender scrunched her face thinking before it cleared as she seemed to have concluded something. “Oh. No. I didn’t – I didn’t think I had to –!”

Tenzin felt he was watching a ball go back and forth between the other two.

“You’re the one talking to him often.” Bumi crossed his arms.

“You’re the one living with him.” Lin pointed at the airbender.

“You’re the one in love with him!”

A stunned silence followed.

Surely… Bumi was mistaken?

---

Bumi ran a hand over his face. “I think you both have a lot to talk about.” Then, he grabbed the nearest food on the table (a loaf of sweet mung bread). “I’ll leave you both to it.” He waved the loaf then exited the kitchen.

Lin considered the tea in her cup, focusing as though it could lend her the fortitude for the upcoming conversation.

Tenzin sat on the chair opposite her, taking a sip from his own genmaicha. “Feel like explaining what that was?”

As an earthbender, Lin went into it head on. “Bumi and I are not – were not – in a relationship – we – I thought that was clear.” Then she proceeded to explain the arrangement that she had with his brother. “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable with this.” She waved her hand uselessly.

Lin bit her lip anxiously. She blew on her cup, waiting for the airbender to process the information that was dumped on him.

---

Two things ran through his mind.

Firstly, Bumi and Lin are not (never were!) in a relationship.

That key revelation echoed, unlocking several objections that he had repeatedly told himself to tamp down his feelings for the earthbender.

Secondly, it did not escape his notice that Lin did not say anything to refute Bumi’s claim.

His heart beat loudly, feeling like it was up in his throat. Excitement and nervousness made it difficult for him to breath, ironic for an airbender.

“Lin,” Tenzin cleared his throat. “And what Bumi said,” He leaned forward to tilt her head up so he could look at her eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath. “Is it true?” He felt Lin pull back for a second before she slowly nodded.

Without a hint of hesitation, Tenzin stood up to gather Lin in his arms, feeling complete and contented, something alien to him, something he had not felt for the longest time.

“I take it you like me too?” A muffled voice at his chest murmured.

“More than.” Tenzin bent his head, putting his forehead against Lin’s, unmindful of how her wet clothes now clung to them both. “I love you too.” He then closed the gap between their lips.

They would have gone longer if Lin had not shuddered involuntarily. They separated slightly, arms still around each other.

“I’m sorry, I probably need to get dried.”

Tenzin peered down at Lin’s now translucent attire. “Better yet, let’s get you out of those wet clothes. That is – if you don’t have any objections to it?”

“None whatsoever.” Lin tiptoed, pressing her lips to him. “No boyfriend, no rumored beau…Care to help me out?”

“Gladly.”

#linzin #linzin fanfic #lin beifong #tenzin #legend of korra fanfic #bumi is a good bro #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina completed

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raviotherabbit · 3 years

Text

royal pain in the ass - chapter 4

Chapter 4: Era of Twilight Queen Zelda heads out for the night.

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

△ ▲△

“Are you sure this is alright?” The young Hero of the Four Sword trailed Zelda through the halls of her castle, their shoes clicking on the smooth tile below them. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to bother you…”

“I could never be bothered by a hero,” Zelda clarified. “Besides, I believe you of all people should appreciate our collection.”

The pair stopped at a grand set of doors, towering over them with the crest of the royal family, depicted in gold, right in the middle. Before Four could voice any more concerns, Zelda pushed the doors open, dividing the crest in two.

Forgetting his manners, Four rushed past the queen and into the armory. Zelda couldn’t help but chuckle as he admired the vast array of weaponry, hands hovering with a fear to touch. She was struck by how dorky the heroes she grew up hearing legends of actually were, but perhaps she should have guessed they’d be much like her own…

Zelda’s heart dropped at that thought. Oh, Link…

“This battle-axe…” Four marvelled, mouth agape. “I could only dream of making something so well-crafted…”

Forgetting her troubles for a moment, Zelda caught up to Four. “This one is a bit old, actually. I’ve been considering having it hung up somewhere, for posterity.”

“You can never go wrong with an axe on a wall,” Four added.

“Come,” she beckoned him further into the armory. “Let me show you my personal collection.”

Delighted at the notion, he followed her. Eventually, the two came to a wall more tastefully decorated, with several bows and swords hanging.

“I’ve used all of these, at some point,” her hand traced the wooden edges of a bow. With a fond smile on her face, she pulled her rapier from its display. “But I’ve always been fond of my swords.”

Zelda held the rapier out to Four. He hesitated for a moment, looking up to her as if to ask for permission. When she nodded, he took the sword from her with a child-like glee, inspecting it thoroughly.

“I’ve been training with it since I was young,” Zelda explained. “It’s been my favorite.”

And yet, it hadn’t been enough. When the time came, to either fight or die, Zelda had instead chosen to surrender. Her burden went to Link, almost carelessly so, and now…

Noticing her distress, Four placed the rapier back in its display. “Twilight will be fine,” he insisted. “If he’s not back by tomorrow, I think Time is planning on going after him.”

Twilight. The name always throws her for a loop when she hears it. How could Link be so fine with it?

“I’d like to apologize to him, if I can,” she revealed cautiously. “I owe him that much.”

“I think he’s just a bit stressed out,” Four frowned, looking off. “All of us are. Legend got a bit snappy yesterday, and Twilight had to physically stop Wild from pouncing on him.” He sighed wearily.

“I wish he didn’t feel as though everything were his responsibility,” Zelda admitted. But, truthfully, who was she to talk? After all, she was the one who gave him such ideas.

Maybe she deserved what he said to her.

△ ▲△

“Stay safe, Zelda,” Gaepora instructs his daughter, doing his best to remain stoic as he holds her close. “The places you’ll travel will be unfamiliar, but I know that you’ll be able to find your way.”

“We’ll be home soon,” Sun promises, arms tight around her father. “Both Link and myself.”

Gaepora pulls away from Sun, glancing back at the portal. It appeared just after breakfast, right in front of the Sealed Temple. “Keep those granddaughters of mine safe.”

Sun laughs at that. “I will, father.”

Meanwhile, Artemis and Flora stand waiting by the portal. The glowing, golden light still has a draw on them, but they resist enough to allow Sun her goodbyes. It tugs at Flora’s heartstrings, digging that pit in her stomach a little bit deeper. Her only thought is, ‘Why?’

Karane, one of the knights of Skyloft, marches up to the two queens, dragging Pipit by his collar behind her. She releases him just as she reaches them, and Pipit struggles to right himself.

“Pipit,” Karane asks him. “Do you have anything you’d like to say to these two?”

“Er, yes,” Pipit clears his throat. “Your majesties-” he bows awkwardly. “I’m sorry I pointed my sword at you and called you demons.”

“Uh, well.” Flora shifts from one foot to the other, glancing up at Artemis.

Artemis places a hand on Flora’s shoulder, smiling sweetly down at the two knights. “Thank you for your apology, sir Pipit. It’s greatly appreciated.”

Pipit looks back at Karane, who nods in approval. The two bow for them before making their leave.

“That was very diplomatic,” Flora notes, watching as the knights bicker amongst themselves.

“He made a mistake, and he apologized for it,” Artemis explains coolly. “I don’t see a reason to keep being upset.”

The two are interrupted by Sun, who approaches as she waves back to her father. With one hand gripping her satchel’s straps, she asks, “Well, are you guys ready?”

“It’s been lovely staying here, but we need to get moving,” Artemis asserts.

“Then let’s go.” Flora offers a small wave before she steps backwards into the portal. With a bright flash of light, she disappears.

Artemis smirks. “Oh she’s getting sure of herself, isn’t she? Come one-” she waves Sun along to follow her. “We have to catch up before she gets herself lost.”

Side-by-side, Artemis and Sun walk through the portal. Travelling through time is always disorientating, even though both of them have done it before. Sun’s not very surprised to find that these portals aren’t much different than the Gates of Time, but still, she squeezes her eyes shut as they travel. The world warps around her, a chaotic mess until it stops very suddenly.

Sun peeks her eyes open, just as the portal sputters to a close. She finds herself in the middle of a field, Artemis recuperating for a moment with her hands on her knees. On the other hand, however, Sun feels alright, if a little tired. Flora stands a few feet away, using a hand to block the sun from her eyes as she looks off into the distance.

“That must be the castle, just ahead there,” Flora gestures out, and Sun can just see the silhouettes of a city against the daylight as she makes it to her side. “We can get there in no time.”

“Wow, a real, actual city!” Sun utters in awe. “I mean, Sky’s told me about the ones he’s been to, but seeing it now…”

Flora gasps. “I didn’t even realize-!” She eagerly takes Sun’s hand and guides her towards the city hurriedly. “You have so much to see! Come on, let’s-”

“Hold on.”

The pair barely make it a few steps before Artemis stops them, still hunched over nausea. Flora grits her teeth, breathing in sharply. “Artemis, are you okay?”

“Just…” Artemis plants herself on the ground, but it isn’t long before she lays back, staring up at the bright blue sky. “Just give me a second.”

△ ▲△

“Castle Town is… a lot,” Sun comments, subtly shifting to hold onto the cloth of Flora’s cloak. “I’ve never seen so many people before in my life.”

The trio are making their way through the streets, weaving their way through the city’s crowds and passing exuberant vendors. A Goron shouts into the masses, advertising fresh spring water, and Sun covers one of her ears.

“Don’t worry, the castle’s right up there,” Flora points up above the buildings, where the spires of walls are visible. “I’m sure when we explain the situation to the Zelda of this time, she’ll give us a nice, quiet place to spend the night.”

“Hm,” Sun hums in response, noticing Artemis frown slightly at Flora’s words.

“Now that you’ve said it…” Artemis mutters to herself, but she doesn’t finish the thought.

The crowd seems to thin as they approach the castle, which makes sense since the gate is guarded by two heavily armored individuals, both wielding some rather sharp spears. Flora, however, is unfazed, and marches right up to the guards. While Sun tries to follow her, Artemis places a hand on her shoulder, holding her back a few feet. Her hand slips from Flora’s cloak.

“Wait,” Artemis commands.

“Hello,” Flora greets the guards, ignoring their scrutinizing glares. Her hands are folded gently in front of her, the picture of politeness. “We would like to see the queen.”

The soldiers both look towards each other, before both burst out laughing.

“You want to see the queen?” the one on the right, gangly and tall, jabs at her.

“Who are you to demand an audience with her majesty?” the one on the left, shorter than his partner, continues.

Flora scoffs indignantly. “Well I never-!”

“Hold on.” Artemis raises a hand, silencing both guards. “Flora, remain dignified,” she reminds her descendant. “We have information about Link that her royal highness must hear immediately.”

“Uh…” the tall guard idly scratches his face. “What’s link?”

Artemis blinks, taken aback. “Th-the hero.” She composes herself. “Link.”

The guards exchange another glance with each other. “The hero’s name is Link?” the tall one asks, only to receive a shrug from the short one.

“Oh for Hylia’s sake,” Flora sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, listen ladies,” the short guard steps forward, flipping his spear so the blunt, wooden end is pointing out. “You’re not seeing the queen today, so scram.” He pokes Flora with the spear.

“Well I never-!” With rage in her eyes, Artemis grabs onto Flora’s arm, dragging both her and Sun away from the castle gates.

“Artemis, wait!” Sun protests. “I think this is still salvageable!”

Ignoring her, Artemis shouts back over her shoulder at the two guards. “Listen to this! You two are going to be in big trouble soon!”

△ ▲△

Flora, with a book in hand, disappeared into the depths of Castle Town. After her display on the battlefield, Artemis doubted she’d be in too much danger in the city. Besides, exploring their surroundings seemed to be a good alternative to meeting this time’s Zelda, and that was way easier when they split up.

Of course, Sun came with her. Artemis didn’t necessarily trust Sun to be on her own in this kind of setting, not yet at least. Judging by the fact that she was currently latched onto her arm like a sloth, she may have made the right choice.

“I have an idea of when we are,” Artemis explains to her.

Sun’s head snaps to Artemis as though she’d been broken out of a trance. “Oh, you do?”

Artemis nods. “I think there’s a business around here where we may find some help.”

“Time war stuff?”

“Time war stuff.”

Sun perks up and begins scanning the buildings up and down the street. “I can help. What does it look like?”

“Well,” Artemis paused. She’d never actually seen the place, had she? She just heard about it late at night when her troops made camp, and she was always about five seconds from punting Little Link into the forest by that time. Which is to say, her attention hadn’t always been there.

“It has to do with bugs,” she finally settles on.

Sun tilts her head. “Bugs?”

“Bugs,” Artemis affirms. “Agitha, the owner, and she loves them. I think it’s a zoo of some kind?”

“A bug zoo in Castle Town,” Sun remarks. “I think I understand cities even less now.”

Artemis shrugs. “I don’t understand it either, to be honest.”

Sun hums to herself, before suddenly pointing to a building across the road. “Agitha’s Castle?” she reads the sign aloud, “Is that it?”

“Right, that’s what it was called!”

When Artemis pushes open Agitha’s wooden door, they’re both immediately hit by a wave of warm air. The chirping and buzzing of several insects greet them, a butterfly going so far as to flutter over and land on Sun’s head.

“Artemis there’s a tree in here,” Sun states, eyeing the bugs climbing all over it with concern.

“Agitha!” Artemis cups her mouth with a hand as she shouts. “Are you here?”

“Is that who I think it is?” a voice rings out from the second floor. A young girl appears, leaning over the railing to peer down at her guests. “The other Princess Zelda!” She races to the stairs with heavy footfalls.

“Well, it’s Queen Zelda now,” Artemis informs Agitha as she bounds down the stairs. Her smile is warm and pleasant, like a fire on a chilly day.

Agitha takes the queen’s hands, holding them in her own, buzzing with energy as an excited smile graces her face. “Then you’re the other Queen Zelda! I can’t believe you’re here! I thought the War Across the Ages was finished?”

“It did,” Artemis nods. “My friend Sun and I are here on separate business.”

Hearing this, Agitha’s eyes snap to Sun, as if noticing her for the first time. “Oh, hello there! I’m Agitha.”

“Uh, hi,” Sun awkwardly responds. “I’m Sun, I suppose.”

Though Agitha squints at her words with suspicion, she’s quickly drawn away by Artemis. “We need to see this era’s Zelda, but the guards haven’t let us into the castle,” she explains. “Do you know of a way we can arrange a meeting?”

“Those guards are tricky.” Agitha slowly draws her hands away, bringing a finger to her chin as she thinks. “There may be something,” she reveals. “Why don’t you come have some tea? I’ll tell you everything I know.”

△ ▲△

While their visit to Agitha’s Castle was by no means short, the subsequent search for Flora ended up being way longer than anticipated. Eventually, they find her laying against one of the buildings bordering the castle wall,

“Breaking and entering is not an option, Flora,” Artemis reprimands, picking up her exhausted descendant off the city streets and slinging her over her shoulder.

“I… ran the whole… perimeter,” Flora pants out, book still clutched tightly in her hands. “We can climb it.”

Sun, standing behind Artemis, pats Flora’s head in consolation.

“We’re heading to dinner,” Artemis says. “Agitha recommended a nice little bar we could eat at.”

△ ▲△

The bar, thankfully, isn’t too far from where Flora collapsed. Sun breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it’s mostly deserted, save for a couple of patrons sitting at a table past the bar. One is a redhead, a drink by his side as he converses with the girl next to him. She’s black-haired, and curiously enough, her ears are rounded. Both perk up when they see the trio enter.

“Telma!” the black-haired lady calls out towards the back. “You’ve got some customers!”

“Er, is she alright?” the redheaded man points with his pen towards Flora, who’s still being carried by Artemis.

“She’s fine, just tired,” Artemis clarifies. She unceremoniously deposits Flora at the nearest table. “My sisters and I were wondering if we could get a meal here?”

“Well you certainly came to the right place, I’ll tell you that!” He offers her a thumbs up, only to be jabbed in the side by his companion.

Just then, a woman pushes through the back door, leaving it swinging behind her. “Well hello there, girls. Can I get you something?”

Artemis places a hand on Sun’s shoulder. “Wait here with Flora, I’ll order for us.”

Sun nods, sliding into the seat next to Flora, who’s currently laying face down on the table. Quietly, she slips Flora’s notebook away from her.

“So what is this?” Sun asks, thumbing through a few of the pages. There’s a lot of writing, but she also notices some drawings of diagrams. “Is it your diary?”

“Of sorts,” Flora murmurs. “It’s a research journal.”

“Oh!” she realizes. “I remember you seemed very interested in some of the monuments of my time. I could tell you more about them, if you’d like.”

“Sun,” Flora pops her head up, resting her chin on the wooden table. “I would love that more than anything. But I currently don’t have the stamina to write a single sentence.”

With a frown, Sun pats her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll have lots of time later.”

Her sympathy brings a small smile to Flora’s face. “How was your time with Artemis, today?”

“We met one of her Time War friends,” Sun explains. “She mentioned her before, Agitha? She told us about this place.”

“And I bet you like it much more than the rest of the city.”

Sun’s neck grows hot, as she awkwardly tries to refute that. “Well- I-”

Flora reaches to place her hand over Sun’s. For a brief moment, her heart races at the thought that the glow might return. When nothing happens after a few seconds, she relaxes again. Never has she been so happy about a lack of anything before.

“Don’t worry,” Flora says, oblivious to Sun’s panic. “I know it can be a bit of a jump, from so little to so much. It was the opposite for me, but I felt similarly when I returned to my Hyrule.”

“Where did you go?” Sun asks, as if it were the most innocent question in the world.

“It was-” Flora tries to explain, but she just sighs. “I sealed a great evil away for a long time. When Wild eventually came to my side, so much time had already passed.” She looks away. “I didn’t recognize anything, anymore.”

“You didn’t- you didn’t have to say that,” Sun says. “I mean, I also sealed away an evil, the Demon King, but at least I went to the past to do it-” She takes a deep breath, composing herself. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. It must have hurt.”

“Well-”

The pair are interrupted by Artemis, returning to the table with the barkeep, Telma. She places her own bowl of soup in front of her while Telma serves Sun and Flora.

“Hope you girls enjoy,” she smiles, glancing over at Flora. “I made this special, I hear it’s supposed to help after a long day.”

“Thank you,” Flora responds automatically. She sits up slightly, eagerly yet carefully bringing a spoonful of soup to her mouth. There’s a buzz of excitement in her chest as she recognizes the blend of flavors; it can only be cream of vegetable soup. In fact, it’s almost like-

Wait.

Flora’s eyes go wide, and she almost drops her spoon. “Carrots and honey.”

“What?” Sun tilts her head at her.

“This is a carrot and honey cream of vegetable soup, I-” She remembers the night she first tried it. After one hundred years of fighting, she was so tired, and that night, Wild brought her to a stable. He showed her how to make it, explaining where he got every ingredient. And the way it warmed her stomach after so long, especially when he followed it up with a fruitcake dessert…

“This is Wild’s recipe,” she reveals, looking up at Telma. “Did he- how did you get it?”

Before Telma can respond, the door to the bar opens, and in steps a figure in a long, black cloak.

△ ▲△

Honestly, all Queen Zelda Elaine Hyrule wanted was to relax at Telma’s after a long day of courting nobles and other queenly business. She knew at least a few members of the Resistance would be there, and what better way to get her mind off things than to listen to Shad ramble on about the sky beings for hours?

What she didn’t expect, however, was a young girl looking like she was going to cry about her soup while grilling Telma about the recipe.

“Uh,” Artemis looks between Telma and the girl, befuddled.

Telma grimaces when she notices her. “Honey, why don’t you go sit with Shad and Ashei in the back? I’ll have this handled in a second.” The pair of them are standing just a few feet away, Ashei with a hand ready to draw her sword.

“How did you get Wild’s recipe?” the girl demands, standing as one of her companions tries to reach for her.

“I didn’t take it,” Telma counters. “He gave it to me-”

“Wild?” Zelda asks. “As in, Link’s friend, Wild?”

A silence passes over the girl, she and her friends staring at Zelda. One of the other patrons at the girl’s table, seemingly the oldest, speaks up. “You know Link.”

“He’s-” Zelda almost calls him her friend, but truthfully, she doesn’t know if he would call her such at the moment. “Yes. I know him. And how do you know Wild?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“He’s my best friend,” the first girl says, crossing her arms.

“We’re friends of Link’s friends,” the older one says. “The ones he’s travelling with now.”

Very suddenly, it clicks in Zelda’s mind. These aren’t just any visitors, now are they?

“Ah, I see,” Zelda replies. “You all are quite far from home, are you not? Tell me, what is it that brings you to the Era of Twilight?” She slides up to their table, resting her hands on its wooden surface.

“Link and his friends may be in danger,” the last one, a girl with a feather on her belt, reveals. “We need to see this time period’s Zelda.”

“Well then, you’ve found her.” Zelda pulls down the hood of her cloak. She takes one of the empty seats at the table. With her hands folded in front of her, she narrows her gaze at her counterparts. “Telma, give us a moment. What’s wrong with Link?”

“Dusk, I presume?” the older one asks, receiving a nod in response. “I’m called Artemis, these are Sun and Flora.” She gestures to the other two. “We encountered a monster that could change shape, primarily taking the form of our heroes. He taunted us with their safety, and since we haven’t seen them in quite some time, we can only assume he’s done something to them.”

“That’s… concerning,” Dusk admits. “So why have you come to me, then?”

“We want your help,” Sun continues. “We’ve been going through the portals, and they’ve brought us… Zeldas? They’ve brought us all together.”

Flora plops back down in her chair. “The shadow creature is strong. We’ll need as many hands as we can get to defeat it.”

Dusk’s first instinct is to refuse them outright. Though she’s not sure about the rest of them, she has a kingdom to run! She can’t just leave on a journey across time on a whim, not when her people need her. She isn’t Link.

Oh.

But this is for Link, isn’t it? Link, who she let do everything while she was trapped in the twilight of Hyrule Castle. Link, who saved a land that wasn’t his without question. Link, who deserved more than she had given them.

“Ashei, Shad!” she calls out, beckoning the two Resistance members to her side. “Tomorrow, I’m going to make an announcement. As trusted advisors and saviors of Hyrule in your own right, I will leave you both, as well as Auru, in charge of all royal duties until further notice.” She turns her attention back to the other Zeldas. “I’m coming with you.”

“Thank you,” Sun smiles at her sweetly. “All of our Links mean a lot to us, I’m sure you understand.”

“Sorry you had to see me, er,” Flora gestures to her soup, which she stirs with her spoon. “It’s just… I haven’t had this soup in a while, you know?” She suddenly turns towards the bar, where Telma is cleaning some dishes. “And sorry for yelling at you, miss!”

“Don’t you worry, honey!” Telma calls back. “Tell Wild thanks for the recipe when you see him, alright? I think he could use the pick-me-up.”

“Pick-me-up?” Flora echoes quietly.

“Now.” Artemis slams her hands on the table lightly. “Dusk, I should tell you. We had the worst experience with a pair of guards outside the castle, earlier today.”

“Oh, did you?” Dusk leans in, resting her elbows on the table. “Well, we’ll have to handle that.”

#linked universe #lu dusk #lu flora #lu artemis #lu sun #fanfic #rpita #rav's writing

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smutbymia · 4 years

Note

Omg can u pls make another nipple sucking fic but w jeno 🥺

You sat on the floor of Jenos dorm room in a fit of soft giggles as the two of you passed your third bottle of soju between each other.

The moonlight bore through the only open window in the little room and you tried your hardest to stifle your laughter since you had already gotten noise complaints from the other dreamies after returning from the barbecue place that you and Jeno had gone to for dinner.

Jeno loved moments like this more than anything in the world. Lately it seemed as though he was happiest around you and it wasn’t until his group members pointed it out that he realized that he may have possibly found what the rest of the boys often joked about and called — the “girl” best friend.

Basically it was a running jokes among idols that at some point during their career they’d stumble across a girl. A perfect girl who seemed to lift your spirits despite the hectic routine of your career. Jaemin had found and then lost his girl best friend all within the span of a couple of months as their friendship progressed into a whirlwind romance that was doomed from the start; another trait of the dreaded “girl” best friend.

The legend stated that the idol and the girl would always teeter between a platonic and romantic relationship, eventually causing conflict between the two and thus dooming the perfect relationship. The only way things seemed to work with these relationships was if the idol was to give up their career and dream to lead a normal life with their partner.

You and Jeno started hanging out quite frequently about 5 months prior to this very night on the bedroom floor. Usually when you hung out it was late at night, after practice or on his days off when you’d take walks by the Han river at 6am to stay discrete and watch the sun rise. Of course these could be seen as dates but the energy between you two wasn’t that heavy. It felt easy — for you.

Jeno was a bit of a nervous wreck. He didn’t think it would be so easy. He really did see you as a friend at first but he messed up. He started seeing you way too often and it was only inevitable that his feelings for you would develop just as quickly. It didn’t fully register until he found himself doing things boyfriends did, like taking you out on frequent dinner dates, or the ease of roping his hands in yours whenever you guys took your morning walks. It all seemed quite normal and natural for him until the rest of his members had grilled him about your situationship after the night of Chenles birthday party.

The two of you had lots to drink (as usual) and were carrying on like your normal selves — which apparently wasn’t very normal at all. Jeno leaned back in his seat with his hand stretched across your bare thigh. You sat next to him with your legs crossed as you sat silently, nursing at the drink in your hand while the boys engaged in an animated conversation about some drama they were binge watching back at the dorm.

Jeno rubbed circles against your leg with his thumb as the rest of his fingers gripped at your thighs. The other members certainly took notice of their friends hand placement but ignored it as they continued speaking. It wasn’t until you leaned over to rest your head against Jeno’s shoulder and he turned his head to plant a quick kiss on your forehead that the conversation at the table went quiet, momentarily.

Needless to say, Jeno was bombarded with questions that night after the boys had come to the conclusion that he was being far too reckless in public, and above all else — he had fallen for you.

Ever since then he struggled to keep from crossing the line drawn between the two of you but that line always became far too blurry when he was drunk. And boy was he drunk tonight.

The boys had warned him against it but he couldn’t resist inviting you over to spend the night. He wanted to hang out longer than you usually got to, and wanted to be able to let loose somewhere where he knew you’d be away from prying eyes.

Now here you were, a drunk and giggly mess on Jenos floor. The other members were hanging out with the two of you before but they had retreated to their rooms for the night to get rest — which apparently you were stopping them from doing with your laughing over the last hour. For you and Jeno the party was only just starting.

“Hide and seek?” Jeno suggested.

You shook your head vigorously before shutting him down, “too drunk and definitely too loud!”

Jeno covered his hand with his mouth as he muffled a laugh at your shaking head and rosy cheeks.

“Truth or dare!” said Jeno after uncovering his mouth and not even attempting to keep his voice down. Your hand flew over his lips as you shushed him, tumbling forward a bit as his arm flew out to your waist as he steadied you infront of him on the floor again. You felt his warm breath tickle your skin as he giggled against your palm.

“Fine but we have to be quiet!” you whispered, your faces inches from his as you carefully removed your hand from over his mouth.

“Okay, y/n... you first. Truth or dare?” asked Jeno. You hesitated before speaking. “Dare... no truth!” you squeaked. This time it was Jenos turn to cover your mouth is he pressed forward into you, sending the two of you slipping onto the floor.

His body was directly on top of yours as you felt the cool wood of the floor against your back. He winced as he waited for the inevitable to happen.

A soft ping filled the room and you and Jeno both turned your heads to peer at the phone that was on the ground next to you. The first ping was followed by 4 more as messages from the NCT Dream group chat spilled in — complaining again.

Jeno texted the group back to apologize, with only one hand because he still needed to muffle your laugh with his other. When he was finished he turned back to you with a stern expression on his drunken face.

“Truth— what are you thinking of right now?” he whispered, still above you.

“You’re not as heavy as I thought you’d be,” you answered without missing a beat.

“Truth or dare?” you asked Jeno.

“Truth,” he responded.

“What’s your biggest secret?” you asked.

“Honestly, you. You’re my biggest secret,” he said. He was right. If fans knew about the two of you spending so much time together he really could be in trouble.

“Truth or dare?” he said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Truth again,” you answered.

“How many people have you slept with?” Jeno asked carefully... his eyes narrowed and his lips pouty.

“Jeno!” you gasped quietly. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you and letting you know that he was expecting an honest reply.

“Fine,” you said before confessing, “just one!”

Your cheeks flushed red as you shifted your gaze away from him but you could see a small smile dance on his lips before it disappeared. “Wait, do I know them?” he asked suddenly.

“You only get one question each turn,” you teased, “now truth or dare!”

“Truth again!” he said.

“Uh... okay,” you pondered for a while, “what’s your biggest kink?”

Jeno’s eyes went wide as you watched the heat rush to his face. You were almost certain that you felt him begin to harden before he shifted above you in a position that allowed him to be a bit more discrete about his excitement.

“Ah, y/n... don’t be so shameless,” he scolded. Your mouth dropped open as the shock set in. How dare he make up such and excuse to avoid your question when he had asked you a personal one first.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that! Give me a dare instead” he said as he flashed a smile down at you before finally moving and drawing you up into a sitting position as he poured the final shots of soju for the night.

You cheersed and downed them quickly before you stacked the shot glasses and pushed them aside. The alcohol was flowing through your system and you were beginning to feel a little mischievous so you decided to challenge your friend once more.

You watched as Jeno ran his fingers through his dark hair and looked at you expectantly, thinking he was off the hook. Inside, he was feeling a little overwhelmed. He had just narrowly escaped popping a boner with you right under him and the alcohol was starting to cause words to slip from his mouth carelessly. And you. You looked so beautiful that he could barely keep away from you.

“I dare you to show me,” you said. Jeno could have sworn your lips had began moving in slow motion as his own fell open.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he stammered.

“If you won’t tell me then show me. What’s your biggest kink?” you asked as you moved closer to sit directly in front of him. Your voices had dropped to a whisper lower than any volume you had been in speaking all night.

“Y/n... you dont know what you’re saying,” he warned.

“Truth,” you said randomly.

“What?”Jeno said, confused by your sudden interruption.

“Truth,” you repeated before continuing, “you look really handsome tonight.”

Jeno opened his mouth to respond as a smile spread across his lips but you cut him off before he could get a word out.

“Another truth,” you began, “I’m not sure if it’s just the alcohol but having you on top of me like that made me... feel things.”

“So,” you continued, “I’m just a little curious. I want to know what your biggest kink is. What turns you on?”

Jenos eyes were locked with yours. Even in the dark room, he held your gaze before letting out a deep breath. “So I guess this is it then,” he said under his breath.

You cocked your head to one side, waiting for him to elaborate on that random thought, but he never did. Jeno thought to himself, this was the moment where he’d have to choose wether or not to cross the line. He was nervous. Nervous about what you’d think of him but the more his eyes trailed across your body, the harder it was for him to hold back.

He watched as your chest rose and fell in anticipation for his next words — hoping to learn a dirty little secret about your best friend. He watched as your nipples pressed against the cotton fabric of your white shirt, as he caught sight of the faint outline of your areoles.

“Y/n... I don’t know,” he said as he tore his eyes away from your skin and shut them.

“I-it won’t change anything. I promise,” you said. “I know. I know all about that stupid story about having girls as friends that you all keep spreading around the company!”

Jeno froze as he opened his eyes again. You had reached out and landed your hand on his crossed legs. He reached out, slowly wrapping his hand around your wrist before jerking your arm forward, and pulling you closer to him so your faces nearly touched.

“Promise me. Promise me that you’ll still be my best friend no matter what,” he said as the words spilled quickly from his mouth.

You nodded your head and before you could register what was happening, your best friends lips were pressed firmly against yours.

“Truth,” he said as he broke the kiss. “I’m in love with you.”

You froze in front of him as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and planting a peck on your lips. You roped your hands around his neck as you climbed into his lap, deepening the kiss.

Jenos hands rubbed along your sides, down to your waist and across your butt until he squeezed at your ass through the fabric of your shorts. You could feel him grow hard under you as you let soft moans escape from your lips.

Jeno brushed a finger across your lips.

“Shhh..” he whispered under hooded eyes. You nodded silently as you pressed your lips back together.

“So what is it then? Your kink,” you whispered.

Jeno scratched at the nape of his neck, still feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Come on, you can’t go back on your dares!” you warned.

He sighed before signalling for you to get on the bed as he followed. He ran his thumb across your cheek before lifting at the hem of you shirt and leaning you back onto the bed so you were laying flat against the pillows, topless.

Jeno snuggled into your side before looking up to meet your gaze — not saying anything. You watched as he opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to dart across his lips, wetting them, before planting kisses across your chest and drawing a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh —“ you said as the sensitive bud met the warmth of his tongue while he suckled away. You could hear Jeno’s breathing increase slightly as he grew hard against your leg. This time he pulled his pants down and jerked at his length softly, whining against your skin.

You wrapped an arm around him, supporting his neck as continued to work at your flesh as you ran your fingers through his hair — soothing him as he pumped at his length.

You could feel the pre-crum that had gathered at the head of his penis drip against your leg. Your arousal became too much for you to ignore but you couldn’t interrupt Jeno.

This was it, clearly. He had shown you his vulnerable side and now the pretty boy was fucking himself right infront of your eyes while he nursed at your nipple. You watched as the pretty pink head of his member disappeared between the fist he had formed with his slender and pale fingers.

You couldn’t take it anymore as you allowed your free hand to trail down your body and settle between your legs. You circled at your clit, groaning at the contact that you had been yearning for.

You whimpered as your fingers massaged at your center, causing wetness to pool against your fingers. Jeno suckled harder against your skin as you slipped your fingers inside of yourself. He jerked at himself faster this time, aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself while he was occupied with your soft nipples.

Your orgasm ripped through you as your insides throbbed against your fingers. You bit down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out as Jeno gazed up at you, loving every second of the show you were putting on. He loved the sight of your face as you finally reached your climax. He himself was close but it wasn’t until you slipped your fingers out of yourself and into his mouth in place of your nipple, that he was able to finally cum. His lips circled your fingers as he sucked at the juices that coated them while warm spurts of cum splattered across your thighs.

Jeno collapsed at your side, lifting his fingers up to your lips where you drew them into your mouth to have a taste of him. When you were done licking his fingers clean, he planted a soft kiss on your lips before snuggling back into your chest and licking at your nipples in silence.

“You really like doing that, don’t you baby?” you whispered against his hair as you combed your fingers through.

Jeno hummed against your skin. “It’s my favourite thing in the world,” he whispered as he lulled off to sleep, shortly followed by you.

The next morning, the two of you woke up tangled together beneath the sheets. Jeno was the first one up, and drew circles softly along your back as your eyes began to flutter open.

He paused his movements before nervously speaking. “G-good morning,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sit here and watch you or anything I just didn’t want to leave you alone on your first morning here,” he stammered.

You groaned as you snuggled up closer to him, feeling his body relax at the contact. “How are you feeling,” he asked you.

“Frustrated,” you responded before dropping your voice to a whisper, “someone spent hours sucking on my nipples and I’m almost certain it’s the reason why I’ve been dripping wet all night long!”

Jeno giggled while he planted kisses down your neck as you rubbed softly at your eyes, trying your best to fully wake up.

“I’m sorry,” said Jeno as he flipped you over onto you side to spoon you. He drew your body close against his before slipping his hands back down to your hips and pulling them against his front so you could feel the erection that had grown in his pants.

“Let me make it up to you,” he cooed in your ear as he touched at your body. And he did. He made it up to you all morning long.

thank you to the anon that came up with the truth or dare concept for this mini blurb! ❤️ I haven’t written in so long so forgive me if it takes a while to get into the swing of things again. I feel a bit rusty haha.

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines #nct smut #nct127 #nct #nct scenario #nct dream blurbs #nct dream smut #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream au #nct jeno #jeno smut #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct hard hours #nct asks

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queenof-literature · 3 years

Text

Hero of Wild - Chapter 6

I’m sorry about the delay… again… life really does get in the way sometimes doesn’t it? Anyway, I’m kinda planning my timelines/series as I go along, so if things don’t correlate I will try to fix them later. There’s also been some confusion about my story timelines and why Wild can talk in some stories and not in others. Sorry for the confusion! In my stories if WIld can talk then it takes place after this series which is a work in progress. For any questions to the order of my stories, please visit my Masterlist on my Tumblr, @queenof-literature. Thank you as always for the insane amount of support. Love you all and hope you’re doing well!

**This fic portrays Selective Mutism and trouble with speech how I and my peers have experienced it**

TW: Taunting/Bullying (No slurs), Minor Panic Attack

Wild was still a mystery. It had been more than a week since Wild had joined their little crew. Sky and everyone else thought they were done receiving heroes, but Hylia still had surprises for them it seemed. Oh well, Hylia did what she thought was best, and Wild was a good person to have around. After the first time they saw him fight that Lynel, no one could deny that. Yet Sky couldn’t help but wonder why Hylia waited so long. Why make Wild more of an outsider than necessary by waiting more than two months to introduce him? Sky knew he would probably never know the answer, Hylia did what she needed to, but it was still something he questioned. They were back in Wild’s Hyrule once again, even though they were just here a week ago. After Wild’s Hyrule the first time, they went to Sky’s, then a random one, then back to Wild’s again for seemingly no reason. Sky hadn’t even gotten to see Zelda before he left his own Hyrule… it was just frustrating. But Sky tried not to let it show, getting mad wouldn’t help anyone. Sky looked back at Wild, who was doing his best to keep his distance from the group. Well as much as he could, Warriors and Twilight seemed to be worried that him and Hyrule would wander off again to ‘shield surf’.

“Hey Wild?” Sky called out lowly. Wild looked up, eyes full of question and apprehension. He didn’t seem to be in a talk- signing mood today. “Are we still going down the right path?” The Links were currently traveling through a small patch of trees after what Wild had called Proxim Bridge, heading straight towards what seemed to be two large mountains, or one that was split right down the middle. Wild nodded, lifting his hands to sign.

‘The path is straight through the mountains to the stable.’ Sky remembered Wild telling Time there was a stable after the mountain, but it was unusual for Wild to direct them down a large path. Even knowing him for a little over a week, Sky knew that Wild absolutely hated traveling main roads on foot.

“Okay, thanks Wild.” Sky smiled back at him. Wild had seemed to come out of his head slightly, awkwardly coming up to walk a shorter distance from Sky. The older assumed it was in case anyone else had questions. He didn’t mean to make Wild uncomfortable, he just wanted to be sure they weren’t lost. Wild glanced at him, as if expecting him to make small talk the boy obviously wasn’t comfortable at the moment. “We don’t have to talk, we can just walk.” Sky offered, low enough so only Wild could hear him. The other boy simply nodded, though Sky could see the grateful look in his eyes.

The group walked in, a mix of lulled conversation and comfortable silence sweeped over them, and it was moments like these that Sky could simply appreciate his surroundings. As they approached the looming cliffs, Sky couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of it all. Wild’s Hyrule was savage and massive and overwhelming, but it was also beautiful. The tall rocky walls reflected the bright afternoon sun, the rocks a deep navy blue instead of ominous gray.

Sky felt a small tap on his shoulder and looked towards his companion.

“Yes, Wild?” Sky questioned softly, doing his best to not draw attention to them.

‘There’s some monster camps between the cliffs. They usually leave people alone but we need to stay on the path.’ Wild signed to Sky. Even after that small of a conversation, Wild seemed to slump down a little further. It was almost unnoticeable, but Sky was always good at reading people. Wild said the stable was almost directly after the end of the mountain path, so hopefully he would be able to run off and recharge while the rest of the group stayed at the stable for the night.

“Guys.” Sky called out, gathering the other’s attention. “Wild says that there’s monster camps coming up, but we should be ignored if we stay on the path.” Wild looked slightly flustered that Sky had spoken up for him, but he sent a grateful nod in the older’s direction.

“When isn’t there a horde of monsters in this Hyrule.” Legend grumbled. No one could really tell if he truly hated Wild’s Hyrule or if he was just being sarcastic. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Thanks for the heads up, Wild.” Time interrupted, nodding his thanks to Sky for relaying the message.

The group continued on along the river, looking up in wonder when they finally entered the enclosed path.

“Is that a shrine up there, Wild?” Wind pointed widely to the blue glow in the distance. The rest of the group turned their attention on Wild, who squirmed slightly under their gaze.

‘Yes. One here, two on top.’ Wild signed quickly to get their attention somewhere else. Sky wanted to ask about their challenges, since Wild’s trials really interested all of them, but thought better of it when he remembered how uncomfortable Wild seemed in their large group today.

“We sure we should just leave those camps there?” Legend asked, glancing between the screaming Bokoblins and the Lizalfos swimming in the rushing river.

“If you want to fight them all, be my guest.” Warriors snarked.

“Wild said it’s fine.” Time gruffed, halting that argument before it started. As much as Time wanted to kill any monsters possible to avoid future incidents, in Wild’s land they just seemed to keep coming. Plus the boys were all weary. Even Legend seemed to dread the very idea he brought up.

Wild felt a cold hand squeeze his heart. If they got attacked after Wild explicitly that it would probably be safe, then would they ever trust Wild again? Even if they did, Wild would never forgive himself…

“Is that the stable ahead?” Hyrule asked, glancing at the rustic horse head in the distance. Wild nodded a little dumbly, not noticing how far they had made it.

“Yes!” Wind yelled, and the group sped up with newfound energy. Stops on their journey were always a relief, no matter how brief they were.

After the group finally emerged from the cliffs above, the stable was in plain sight. The group crossed a flat rickety bridge. It reminded Twilight of the bridges the other children in Ordon would claim had trolls beneath. Wild called it Big Twin Bridge, although it certainly wasn’t big compared to some of the bridges the other Links had seen.

As they approached the group felt the same warm aura that Wild’s stables seemed to radiate. The first thing Twilight noticed was the pen of animals every stable seemed to have.

“Are those goats?” Twilight asked Wild, thinking back to the apparent sheep the last stable had. Wild nodded with a small smirk, already knowing Twilight well enough to know the older would go greet the goats when there was time. There were few people at the stable besides the group of nine, but that seemed to be normal for Wild’s Hyrule. Once again, they saw a scrawny young man carrying a beetle shaped bag three times his size.

“Is he everywhere?” Legend whispered incredulously to Warriors.

‘Beetle.’ Wild finger spelled to them.

“Is that his name?” Warriors laughed, only laughing harder when Wild nodded.

“Wild? Are you coming inside?” Four asked, nodding his head to the other Links filing inside the stable to relax around the small table within. Wild shook his head and gestured vaguely to the fire pot.

“But… Dinner isn’t until a lot later?” Four’s brow furrowed, looking towards the sun in the middle of the sky.

‘Has to simmer.’ Wild signed fingerspelling the last word Four didn’t recognize, and Four mentally shelved the word for ‘simmer’ he just learned.

“Okay… but will you come inside after it starts to simmer?” Four questioned, genuinely confused as to why Wild seemed hesitant about going inside. Wild bit his lip then nodded slowly. “Wild… you know that you can do what you need to do in your Hyrule? If you have someone you need to see or something, just let Time or Warriors know. We’ve all had to take care of business in our Hyrule.” Four assured. He couldn’t tell for sure why Wild seemed quiet. Well… more than usual. It didn’t just seem like a bad day like when he and Hyrule went shield surfing, it felt like far more than that. He thought back to his conversation with Hyrule. Perhaps Wild had something to do, but he was too scared to say anything. It was worth a shot. To his dismay, Wild simply smiled a little and nodded. So that wasn’t it, it seemed.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Four finished, shoving down his disappointment. Hopefully Wild would be able to let someone know if he got too bad… as slim of a chance as it was. Wild signed a quick thank you before heading to the cooking pot.

Hylia, he hoped they weren’t here, but he knew they would be. The ‘Treasure Hunting Bros’, still looking for treasure Link had found in under an hour. Link had made the grave mistake of trying to tell them that he had already found it. They gave him the riddle, teasing him, not expecting him to really find it. Even if their arrogance was infuriating, he didn’t want them to spend months, if not years, wasting their time for treasure that wouldn’t even be there if they found it. When he attempted to sign, they rudely waved him off. He hadn’t tried to talk that much to others verbally since he left the shrine. The times he did it didn’t go… well… but he could feel the words on his tongue if he could just push them out, he’d be fine! He tried to approach them, tried to warn them.

“I…” The first word tumbled out of his mouth, hot streaks of pain clawed up this throat. “I… f-foun… I foun-” Link felt frustration and fear only closing his throat more. Why was this so hard? He could feel the words, he could feel his mouth form to say them, why couldn’t he just get them out?

“Uhh, are you okay?” Prissen, the one on the right asked with a laugh.

“Tre-rea-” Link’s words bubbled in the back of his throat only to slur and stutter and eventually die before they even had a chance to leave.

“You sound like a demented toddler, man. Have some water or something.” Prissen giggled out, and Wild felt his throat flame up even more. Somehow the white hot pain was still so cold.

“I don’t have time for this.” Dak snapped. “Either say whatever you’re babbling about or leave.”

So Wild left.

Sky didn’t know whether or not he should be worried about Wild. The boy was quiet, but that wasn’t unusual. The newest Link reminded Sky so much of himself it actually hurt some days. Sky had his bad days, but it was better now.

Wild however, he never spoke a single word. No one could touch him without him panicking and reaching for his sword. The group didn’t want to approach him like a spooked animal, but no one was quite sure what to do. Wild didn’t need to talk, or accept hugs and pats on the back to be truly a part of the group. They would accept their Brother of Courage no matter what, but Sky truly was worried there was something deeper going on. Something the Hero of Sky couldn’t fix.

Looking at the boy sitting by the fire outside the stable, Sky felt more lost than he had in a long time. Sky’s eye twitched as once again the two men conversing in the stable got too loud. Their constant whispering and occasional yell was even getting Sky slightly irritated, but there was nothing to do, they were in a public place.

“It’s him.” The one in blue snickered, now that he was paying attention Sky realized that their ‘whispers’ weren’t even secretive at all. Sky wondered who they were even talking about. It seems the one in red had the same question.

“Who?” The one in red snapped irritably.

“That one!” To Sky’s confusion and worry, he not-so-discreetly pointed directly at Wild outside. The entire group subtly perked up at the mention of their new member. Some in the group were used to praise and whispers, however, this didn’t sound like praise.

“Is that the one that you said sounded and I quote ‘like a demented toddler’.” The one in red asked in a deadpan voice, much to the group's shock. Did that mean what Sky thought it meant? He heard shuffling and expected Warriors to be holding Legend back, he did not expect to turn and see it was the other way around.

“Just wait a second you idiot.” Legend snapped in a low whisper. “We need more information first.” Warriors took a deep breath and sagged slightly. Legend was right, not that he would ever admit it.

“That’s the one!” The one in blue laughed heartily, and Sky felt a rock in his stomach.

“I don’t have time for you to antagonize an imbecile that can’t even talk back.” The one in red warned, and Sky felt his worry turn to anger.

“He was the one that came up to us last time! Not my fault he couldn’t even get a thought out! Tr-tre-” The one in blue mimicked. Sky felt his ears heating up in anger on behalf of their friend that was clearly being insulted. Glancing over, it seemed not even Time knew if he should speak up or keep quiet. They all seemed to have one thought running through their head: Maybe if they didn’t cause a commotion, Wild wouldn’t notice. But these two certainly weren’t quiet about their hatred towards their new friend.

“You talking about Link?” Four piped up, masking the deadly look on his face. The two patrons in front of them either didn’t notice the glares of the other Links, or they were too stupid to care.

“That the one cooking out there?” The one in blue asked, smiling arrogantly at the boy outside.

“Yup.” Four confirmed in a clipped tone. Sky admired him trying to scope out the situation, but it was obvious the hero’s patience was running short.

“Then yeah. That’s the one.” The blue on, Sky had given up on learning his name, smirked. “Dumbass kept interrupting us, stuttering and slurring. Hell, I would have felt bad for the guy if he wasn’t so annoying. There’s obviously something wrong with him.” The loud one luaghed, finding the situation far funnier than eight furious Heroes of Courage.

“That’s it-” Wind growled before lunging forward, letting out a loud ‘oof’ when his middle was caught by Time.

“If I were you, I’d keep your mouth shut.” Time leveled the man with a glare.

“Don’t tell me you’re friends with that fre-”, Sky couldn’t tell which glare was more terrifying, Time’s, or Wind’s.

“I suggest we make a deal.” Warriors’ stone cold voice spoke up. Even the one in red shot out of his thoughts for a moment. “You two stay on the other side of the stable from us, and keep your mouths shut, and we might just do the same.”

“I suggest you take that deal.” Legend spoke up, icy blue eyes trained on the two men before them. Sky could see the man’s gears turning, the one in blue glanced at the one in red, who was masking his fear far better.

“Fine.” The man in blue spit out, following his brother to the corner of the stable with his tail between his legs, not deeming the fight worth it.

“Where’s Wild?” Twilight questioned. Sky’s gaze snapped over the place where Wild sat, finding it vacant. Before Twilight could move Sky was getting out of his seat, his chair screeching against the wood floor.

“I’ll talk to him.” Was Sky’s only declaration before he was outside. He knew where this would lead, and he wasn’t going to let Wild suffer alone.

Wild tugged his hood further up, as if that could make all the bad thoughts disappear. They knew now. They knew. Of course Wild knew they would find out eventually. They surely had their doubts about Wild’s lack of speech with the scars on his neck, but Wild wanted it to be on his terms. Not some random assholes in a stable! Wild forced himself to take a deep breath from where he sat on a log that was covered in overgrown moss. He had fled to one of the nearby patches of trees after the conversation that no one even bothered to hide. Four had asked if they were talking about Link. They knew it was him, and they asked to make sure. Would they think he could talk and just… didn’t? Now that they knew would their disappointment in him begin? They had been so nice, too nice. On the other hand, that’s what Wild thought before they made name signs. For him. They made name signs specifically to make it easier on Wild. Deep down he knew the others wouldn’t be so shallow to discard him for this, but it made battles dangerous. If he saw a monster all he could do is let out a pathetic croak as one of his teammates went down. It made conversations around the fire harder too. They were nice enough to try and include Wild, but it sometimes died off when they gave him room to sign. They were trying, and Wild was trying so hard but it’s not enough-

“Wild?” He heard a calm voice call out through the woods. That was Sky. Wild mentally smacked himself. He just left them! No note, no dinner instructions, he just ran away again. Self loathing wasn’t worth it, it never had been, so why did he always run? Maybe he should make some sort of noise to let Sky know where he was, but Wild didn’t even have the energy to do that, as selfish as it was. He just hoped his cloak would stand out against the trees and moss so Sky wouldn’t be searching for long. A few minutes later his hope came true.

“Wild?” A gentle voice asked behind him. Wild didn’t respond, of course he didn’t. He heard footsteps approaching and he pushed down his panic, it was an ally, not an enemy. Wild wanted to look up, but some of him was too ashamed to do so.

“Wild? Can I sit down?” Sky said when he was finally next to the log. Wild liked Sky, he seemed kind and always asked him things. Questions, opinions, permission to do something like sit down next to him or put his bedroll near his, it made Wild feel a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. Or perhaps a certain kind of warmth he had never truly felt before. Wild simply nodded, not ready to come out of his curled position under his cloak.

“I just came to check on you.” Sky spoke as he sat down on the other side of the log, giving Wild the space the boy needed to think through everything. “What they said… it wasn’t okay Wild. Far beyond okay, it was disgusting.” Wild peered up in surprise at the venom in the other’s voice. Sky took a deep breath and continued. “Wild… can I ask you something? If that oversteps just tell me and I’ll stop or leave you alone.” Sky reassured. Wild thought for a moment. Sky wouldn’t push him, Wild could refuse to answer and the other hero wouldn’t push at all. That was just the type of man Sky was. Wild nodded once again.

“Wild… Can you talk?” Sky asked. It was just a question, just a simple yes or no should have been okay, but instead a rush of ice invaded Wild’s body. Without thinking he lifted his hands into his hair, clutching near the scalp like a lifeline. There it was. He was a damned coward, not even being upfront about why he didn’t talk to the other Links. Wild forced himself to nod his head.

“Does it… Does it hurt you?” Sky asked hesitantly. Wild nodded again, refusing to meet the other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wild. I know it doesn’t help but I’m sorry. I know how frustrating it is.” Wild once again glanced up in shock. He what? “Yeah.” Sky rubbed the back of his neck. “Speaking was hard for me when I was younger. I was left at the Knight’s Academy in Skyloft, my home, when I was a baby.” Sky began, looking over to see curious eyes peering from under Wild’s cloak.

“I was quiet, and even when I talked I barely said anything. It took the teachers a while to figure out that sometimes I just couldn’t get the words out. I don’t know, they just couldn’t make it past my thoughts sometimes. The other kids called me stupid or said my head was in the clouds, but Zelda spoke for me on those days and I appreciated it. It never felt like she was babying me, she just always understood what I wanted to say. I’ve gotten better at getting the words out, but it’s still hard sometimes. The other Links understand, Wild. I know our situations are different, but we’re here for you. I’m here for you.” Sky finished. His final statement said as if it were a fact Hylia herself could not dispute. There was no doubt or uncertainty. ‘We’re here for you. I’m here for you.’ The words echoed in Wild’s head. Wild had thought himself weak, but Sky wasn’t weak. Sky was one of the strongest people he’s ever met and he’d only known the man for over a week. Wild’s hands released his hair slowly, coming to rest in his lap before he raised them.

‘I feel the same. I don’t even know if it’s my scars or if it was always like that.’ Wild panicked at the mention of what was before the Shrine of Resurrection, but Sky didn’t question him. ‘But the words don’t come. I can feel them, I can think them, but they don’t come out!’ Wild finished angrily, his hands flinging to his lap once more.

“It’s frustrating.” Sky stated. It wasn’t a question, nor was it pity, it was a fact they both knew. “If you want, we can work on it.” Sky offered, smiling slightly at the pure shock on WIld’s face.

“Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Sky assured. “But Zelda and I practiced talking over the years and it helped me. Me, or any of the other Links are willing to help, Wild. It’s an option. Otherwise, none of us mind that you sign. We all have things to work around, it comes with a team.” Wild didn’t even know how to respond. Help him? Team? Those were all new to him.

‘Can I…’ Wild trailed off for a moment. Did he want that? Wild couldn’t even really imagine himself talking. What did he sound like without the claws in his throat? Perhaps Wild wanted to find out.

‘Can I think about it?’ Wild asked, forcing his hands to steady, meeting Sky’s eyes. Eyes that held no judgement or malice, just understanding.

“Of course you can!” Sky assured brightly. “Just let me know if you ever want that, or if you just never want to speak of this again. It’s completely up to you Wild.” It was up to him, not Hylia, or the King, or a destiny he never wanted, it was Wild’s choice. That felt nice.

‘Thank you.’ Wild signed simply, and they both felt the emotion behind it. A few quiet moments passed before Sky spoke up again.

“Do you want to go back?” Sky asked. Wild bit his lip.

‘I don’t want to face them.’ Wild signed honestly.

“I’m sure the others have made sure you won’t have to deal with those idiots anymore.” Sky thought back to Wind snarling.

‘Not them. The others.’ Wild corrected before turning away. Coming back to an entire group after running away in shame sent cold waves of panic through Wild.

“Oh… Yeah it’s scary, but after the amount of times Legend has left huffing and cursing I think you’ll be okay.” Sky laughed, feeling ten pounds lighter when he saw Wild’s shoulders shake a little with silent laughter. Wild finally stood slowly, followed by Sky. They began the short trek back to the stable, but one more question still plagued WIld’s mind no matter how much he tried to get rid of it. Wild snapped his fingers to get Sky’s attention.

“Hm?” Sky questioned from his place beside Wild.

‘Why help me? You don’t know me.’ Wild questioned shyly.

“What do you mean? You’re a Hero of Courage.” Wild winced at that.

‘You don’t know me.’ Wild emphasized. ‘Not well.’ Sky seemed to think for a moment.

“That’s true.” Sky confirmed. “But one day or two months, you’re one of us. We’re a group of nine now and it wouldn’t be nine without you.” Sky stated simply, waving at the distant group waiting for them at the stable.

A group of nine. Wild could live with that.

On this episode of: I Think I’m funny. “Four confirmed in a clipped tone. Sky admired him trying to scope out the situation, but it was obvious the hero’s patience was running short.” Cuz Four… short… anyway.

I love Wind so much. He is ready to fight entire armies of Ganon himself to protect his siblings old or new he will square up.

Also does this mirror my other fic “The Tavern”? Perhaps ;)

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #link #loz #legend of zelda #wild #sky #twilight #time #four #Warriors #legend #hyrule #wind #hero of wild #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

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